The moon hung high when Enji arrived at Training Ground 36. The forest around it was silent, except for the whisper of the night wind brushing through the trees. Moments later, Itachi appeared, his footsteps light and measured. Both boys exchanged a glance, excitement visible in their eyes.
From the darkness, a figure stepped out. Yasu - this time not as the strict but caring mentor Enji remembered, but cloaked in the dark uniform of the ANBU, a white wolf mask concealing his features. His voice, when he spoke, was flat and mechanical.
"Follow."
No explanations, no warmth. Just the weight of command.
They moved through the forest, Yasu ahead, gliding noiselessly between the trees. Suddenly, senbon needles whistled down from above. Enji swiped them aside with a kunai, barely shifting his stride. A tripwire shimmered in the moonlight,Itachi's hand flicked to snap it before it could activate. A barrage of shuriken hidden in branches spun down, but both ducked in unison, their movement seamless.
Yasu never looked back. But beneath his mask, a proud smile formed.
They reached a massive, ancient tree stump deep in the forest. Strange markings of fuinjutsu glowed faintly across its bark as, Yasu placed his hand over the seal, chakra rippling through his palm. The seal flickered, then dissolved.
"Inside."
A hollow cavity appeared, revealing a narrow tunnel leading downward. The boys followed Yasu, the passage growing darker as they descended. Traps were everywhere,pressure plates, kunai slots, wire triggers,but Yasu walked with precise steps, and the two boys mirrored him perfectly.
At last, the tunnels opened into a wide underground hall. Torches lit the cavernous space, shadows dancing on the walls. Around the hall stood a group of masked trainees, each wearing the plain, featureless white mask of the uninitiated. Their eyes flicked toward the newcomers measuring and invasive.
But none of them spoke or even moved a muscle,showcasing thier training and discipline.
The sound of boots echoed as an instructor wearing a monkey mask entered. His mask bore deep scars across its surface, and his chakra presence weighed heavily in the hall. He scrutinized the two new comers for a second.
When he spoke, it was with the cold clarity of someone used to commanding shadows.
"You two are here for one reason. To learn what it means to walk in the dark for the sake of the light. From today, you will be stripped of weakness. You will be broken and rebuilt. You will forget comfort and embrace vigilance.
Your victories will be buried in silence, but your failures will echo through the village.
And for Anbu, failure means death. Do not forget this."
The instructor gestured to a stone dais at the front of the hall. A scroll was unrolled across it, inscribed with ink. The two of them were called forward, one by one, to place their hand upon the scroll and swear their vow.
"We are not one.
We are a legion.
Masks without names,
Blades without glory.
Our triumphs forgotten,
Our failures eternal.
I pledge my life to unseen triumphs and unforgiven failures.
For Konoha - till death!"
The trainees repeated the words in unison, voices echoing dully beneath their masks. When it came to Itachi and Enji, their voices were steady, unwavering.
Then the curriculum was laid bare:
Unarmed and armed combat drills until their bodies broke.
Stealth and infiltration training in pitch black tunnels.
Spy craft: blending into villages, false identities, learning to observe without being seen.
Encryption & decryption classes: memorizing ciphers, sealing coded scrolls, breaking enemy messages under time limits.
Psychological conditioning: classes in resistance to interrogation, followed by exposure to it themselves.
Torture & interrogation methods - lessons in pressure points, breaking an enemy's mind without killing them.
Surveillance: shadowing a target for days without ever being noticed.
Weapons mastery,not just kunai and shuriken, but poisons, and specialized tools.
The schedule was brutal: dawn-to-dusk drills, mid-day tactics and spy craft, evenings for deception, nights reserved for endurance missions or interrogation exercises.
The hall emptied slowly, but Enji and Itachi exchanged a brief look before following the instructor.
The instructor took them towards a store room and gave them three sets of Anbu uniform and a plain featureless mask, then they were taken to a weapon supply station and given a set of each tool present.
" These will be provided for free,for only this time. So be careful and do not squander.
Now move onto the training areas and join the rest. Tiger, take them to the training areas."
Enji and Itachi nodded and exited following the Anbu ninja who stepped out of the shadows, on hearing the command.
" Wolf, is it a good idea to expose them to this, at a such young age?"
The monkey mask Anbu asked after the young kids were escorted out.
" Don't be concerned. You feel that because you don't know them.Even though they are young, the small one was praised for ' thinking like a Hokage ' and the bigger kid is my pupil. Your father personally met them and even sparred with them. And his evaluation was , in his own words - ' As prodigious as my students '.
So don't worry. This is the best for them, as well as the village."
The monkey mask Anbu just stayed silent.
They didn't linger any longer and flickered away, to complete their respective duties.
...
The Uchiha compound lay still under the moon's pale light, the hush of night broken only by the faint rustle of leaves. Mikoto stirred awake, her hand brushing over the empty side of the futon.
"Fugaku?"
Silence.
She wrapped a shawl over her shoulders and padded softly through the hall. At the far end, the faint glow of the veranda lantern revealed her husband, seated stiffly, arms crossed, his gaze lost somewhere in the darkness. The faint lines etched into his face seemed deeper in the cold light.
"You're awake again," Mikoto whispered, lowering herself beside him. "You haven't rested well in weeks."
Fugaku exhaled, not quite a sigh. "The clan gives me little room for rest."
Mikoto studied him for a moment, then asked the question pressing on her heart. "Itachi. Will he be alright at the Anbu training camp? Should we ask the Hokage to give our boy some more time?"
Fugaku didn't answer immediately. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly at the mention. " It's good that Hokage is interested in training him. Both for Itachi as well as the clan." he said finally.
Mikoto's brows knit. "But he's still just a boy. Our boy. To push him so far so soon…"
Fugaku's gaze flickered. "You underestimate him, Mikoto. Itachi is not like us. Our boy is a genius.
He has already noticed the tension between the clan and the village.
He is way stronger than when I was his age.
He is capable enought to handle it.
Yet…Our Hokage never does things on a whim. Every move of his is calculated and multilayered.
What I fear is Hiruzen took him into ANBU not only because of our boy's skill but because he wanted to shape him into a weapon, as a counterbalance against the clan if needed."
At that, Mikoto fell silent. She hated the truth in his words. "And what of Itachi's friend?" she asked softly. "Itachi speaks of him often. For the first time… I see him smile when training with anyone other than Shisui."
" That Sarutobi kid, as per Itachi's opinion,is as talented as our son, he is likely to be selected as well."
Fugaku turned his head, his sharp eyes glinting faintly in the moonlight. His tone was measured, calculated. " I feel his presence is not a coincidence.
The Hokage places a descendant of his own clan so close to our son? The Uchiha clan hier....
He ensures his influence lingers, even here."
Mikoto shook her head. "Maybe to you, it's politics. But to Itachi… Enji is simply a friend. His first real one. That alone is reason enough for me to want him here." She offered a faint smile. "I'd like to invite him to dinner someday. To meet him, as Itachi's mother."
Fugaku's lips pressed into a line. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, finally: "Perhaps. It would be wise to judge the boy myself."
Mikoto sighed softly, not arguing further. She knew this was his way of agreeing. "Then it's settled," she murmured, her tone gentler.
"For me, as a mother, I'll invite him to share a meal with our family. For you, as a clan head… you may judge him as you see fit."
For the first time that night, Fugaku's lips twitched - not quite a smile, but close.
For a long while, Fugaku said nothing. His eyes remained distant, fixed on the silver arc of the moon rising higher through scattered clouds. Then, slowly, almost stiffly, he let one arm slip around Mikoto's shoulders. She blinked at the rare gesture, but relaxed into it, resting her head lightly against his chest.
Together they sat in silence, husband and wife, their differences in outlook quieted beneath the shared burden of parenthood. The moon shone full above, bright and unyielding, yet softened as a passing cloud drifted across it. Mikoto leaned closer, her heartbeat racing, and Fugaku allowed himself, just for that moment - to let go the burdens of a clan head, and just be himself.