The next morning, the sun streamed into Classroom A, illuminating dust motes dancing in the tense, silent air. The room, usually a chaotic hub of childish energy, felt more like a courtroom. Squeezed into the small wooden desks designed for five-year-olds sat the parents, a comical yet intimidating assembly of some of Konoha's most notable figures.
At the front of the room stood Daikoku Funeno, his arms crossed, his face a granite mask of solemn duty. And sitting quietly in a chair beside the teacher's desk, a gentle smile on his face and his pipe resting in his lap, was Hiruzen Sarutobi. The presence of the Third Hokage had instantly transformed the meeting from a simple disciplinary hearing into an event of village-level significance.
Ryu, Itachi, Hana, and Izumi stood in a line before them all, a row of very small defendants facing a very large jury.
Daikoku cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the stillness. "Thank you all for coming. As you know, we are here to discuss a serious, long-term transgression committed by these four students." He let his gaze sweep over them. "For a period of five months, they have used the Shadow Clone Jutsu, a forbidden technique, to feign attendance at this Academy while they engaged in their own unsanctioned training."
He paused to let the weight of the accusation sink in.
The silence was shattered by a loud, booming laugh.
"Hahaha! That's my boy!" Kizashi Haruno slapped his knee, his face beaming with unrestrained pride. "A forbidden jutsu to make more time for training! The ingenuity! The sheer guts of it! Hahaha!"
Every head in the room turned to stare at him. Daikoku's eye twitched. Fugaku Uchiha's stony expression somehow became even stonier. But it was the look from the woman sitting beside Kizashi that had the most immediate effect. Mebuki Haruno didn't say a word. She simply turned her head and fixed her husband with a placid smile that did not reach her eyes. It was a look of serene, terrifying promise, a silent vow of unspeakable consequences.
Kizashi's laughter died in his throat, replaced by a nervous gulp. He sat up ramrod straight, cleared his throat, and adjusted his collar. "Ahem. That is to say, a very serious, and frankly, appalling breach of conduct. Appalling!"
Mebuki's smile finally reached her eyes as she turned back to the front. She stood and gave a graceful, apologetic bow. "Daikoku-sensei, Lord Third. Please, accept my sincerest apologies for my son's—and my husband's—behavior. I assure you, Ryu will be reminded of the importance of respecting the Academy's rules. It will not happen again."
Beside her, another form of discipline was being administered. Tsume Inuzuka, the fierce matriarch of her clan, was rhythmically rapping her knuckles on her daughter's head with a dull thump, thump, thump.
"No discipline, this one," Tsume grumbled, her voice a low growl. "All instinct, no sense. Apologies, Sensei. I'll be sure to drill some manners into her." Hana just winced with each impact, gritting her teeth but accepting her punishment.
The Uchiha contingent was a study in quiet contrasts. Fugaku sat rigid and imposing, even in the ridiculously small chair. He gave a curt, formal nod. "My son has dishonored himself and the Uchiha name with this deception. I offer my apologies for his lack of judgment."
Next to him, Mikoto's expression was far more complex. A gentle sadness swam in her dark eyes. "He is just… in such a hurry to grow up," she murmured softly, more to herself than anyone else. "He forgets he is still a child." Throughout it all, Itachi stood perfectly still, his face betraying no emotion, accepting his father's judgment without a word.
Izumi's father, meanwhile, mirrored Fugaku's stern demeanor, nodding along with a deep frown. "This is unacceptable behavior. She will be dealt with."
When the parents had finished, Hiruzen finally spoke, his voice gentle but carrying an undeniable authority. "Their methods were… unorthodox," he began, a twinkle in his eye. "But their desire to grow stronger for the sake of the village is undeniable. Talent like this must be nurtured, not just punished."
Daikoku nodded. "Indeed, Lord Third. Which is why the punishment will fit the crime." He looked at the four children. "You have disrespected this Academy. So, you will learn to respect it. For the next month, you will all remain after classes every day to clean this building. Every classroom, every hallway, every training dummy. Until it shines. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Sensei!" they chorused.
"And let me be perfectly clear," Daikoku added, his voice dropping to a low, serious growl. "If I ever, ever discover another shadow clone sitting in one of your chairs, the punishment will be far more severe than a mop and bucket. You will be expelled. Dismissed."
The meeting concluded. As the families filed out into the hallway, the stern mask on Izumi's father immediately melted away. He broke into a wide grin and began ruffling her hair. "Five months! And you didn't get caught until now? That's my girl!" Her mother pulled her into a tight hug. "We're so proud of your dedication, sweetheart. Just… try not to get caught next time."
As the Haruno family turned to leave, Hiruzen's voice called out. "Ryu Haruno. A word, if you please."
Ryu froze, his parents looking on with a mix of pride and anxiety. He walked back and stood before the old Hokage, who was now lighting his pipe.
"I was there for your entrance exam," Hiruzen said, his voice casual as he puffed a smoke ring. "I saw the fire in your eyes then. I see it now. Tell me, boy… what is it that you are in such a hurry to become strong for?"
Ryu looked into the wise, ancient eyes of the man they called 'The Professor,' a man who could see through any lie. He thought of his parents, of his unborn sibling, of the terrible future he was fighting against. He gave the only answer he could. The truth.
"I have things I need to protect, Lord Third."
Hiruzen Sarutobi studied the boy for a long moment. He saw no arrogance, no lust for power. He saw only a deep, unwavering conviction. A fire. He smiled, a genuine, warm smile. "A fine answer. The finest answer of all. See that you don't forget it." He gave a nod to Daikoku. "It seems the future of the Leaf is in very capable, if somewhat troublesome, hands."
As the Haruno family prepared to leave the Academy, Hiruzen's kind voice stopped them. "Young Ryu," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Tomorrow is Sunday, a holiday for you, I believe. I would be delighted if you would join me for tea at my home in the morning."
Kizashi looked as though he might faint from sheer pride, while Mebuki's face lit up with a gracious smile. Ryu, for his part, could only manage a stunned, respectful bow. "I would be honored, Lord Third."
The next morning, the Haruno household was a whirlwind of controlled chaos.
"Now, remember, Ryu," Mebuki said, straightening the collar of his best high-collared shirt for the tenth time. "You will address him as 'Lord Third' or 'Sarutobi-sama.' You will not speak unless spoken to. You will accept whatever is offered with two hands and a proper thank you. And you will not, under any circumstances, mention your father's ridiculous idea for a jutsu that involves weaponized bread dough."
"Hey! It's a work in progress!" Kizashi boomed from the kitchen, where he was offering unhelpful advice. "And tell him your dad says hi! Tell him we should get a drink sometime! Ask him if he wants to arm-wrestle!"
Mebuki shot a withering glare over her shoulder that silenced him instantly. She turned back to Ryu, her expression softening as she handed him a small, beautifully wrapped box. Inside was a slice of her finest strawberry shortcake. "A humble gift, to thank him for his time."
Ryu took the box, his own mind a swirling vortex of a thousand thoughts. Why me? Did I do something wrong? Is this about the clones? Does he know something? The pressure of meeting the living legend known as the 'God of Shinobi' in his own home was a heavier weight than any of his gravity seals.
He found his way to the Sarutobi estate, a traditional compound that felt like a quiet, peaceful island in the bustling sea of the village. The air here was serene, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth. He took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and knocked on the large wooden gate.
The gate was opened not by a guard, but by a woman with kind, warm eyes and a gentle smile. Biwako Sarutobi. "Ah, you must be Ryu-kun," she said, her voice like a soothing melody. "Hiruzen is waiting for you in the garden. Please, come in."
Ryu bowed deeply, just as his mother had instructed. "Thank you for having me, Sarutobi-sama. My mother asked me to give you this." He presented the cake with both hands.
Biwako's smile widened as she accepted the gift. "How very thoughtful of her. Please, thank her for me. Come, I'll take you to him."
She led him through the house to a veranda that overlooked a stunningly beautiful garden. Hiruzen sat on a cushion by a low stone table, meticulously tending to a small bonsai tree. He looked up as they approached, his old face breaking into a welcoming grin.
"Ah, Ryu-kun. Thank you for coming."
Ryu bowed again, his heart pounding. "The honor is all mine, Lord Third."
Biwako set a tray with tea on the table and retreated quietly, leaving the two of them alone in the tranquil garden. Hiruzen gestured for Ryu to sit.
"Your teacher speaks very highly of your potential, despite your recent… creative approach to attendance," Hiruzen said, a humorous twinkle in his eye. He poured a cup of fragrant tea and pushed it towards Ryu. "I also heard some wonderful news from your parents yesterday. How is your mother doing? I understand she is with child."
The personal question helped ease Ryu's nerves. "She is doing very well, thank you, sir. She says she's tired a lot, but Dad is taking good care of her. It will be two months soon."
"Excellent, excellent," Hiruzen nodded, his expression warm. "A new life is the greatest treasure a village can have." He took a slow sip of his tea, his gaze becoming more focused, more serious. The friendly grandfather was gone, replaced by the wise, perceptive leader. "Ryu, your instructor assigned you an essay on the Will of Fire. I would like to hear your answer now. In your own words, what is it?"
Ryu met his gaze, his mind clear. He thought of the lecture, but also of the feeling he got when he saw his parents laughing over a slice of cake, the warmth of Itachi's friendship, the promise of a tiny, new life on the way.
"The Will of Fire… is family," Ryu said, his voice quiet but firm. "It's the idea that everyone in this village—the shinobi, the bakers, the blacksmiths, the children playing in the park, the elders telling stories—are all one family. And my duty… my purpose… is to protect that family. All of it. To be a shield for our loved ones, for the weak, for everyone who calls this place home."
Hiruzen Sarutobi stared at him, his pipe held halfway to his lips. The garden was silent save for the buzzing of a lone bee. A long moment passed, and then a low, rumbling chuckle started deep in the old man's chest.
"Heh, heh, heh," he laughed, a sound of pure, surprised delight. "Incredible. You are exactly the same as Minato when he was your age. The very same words, the very same fire in your eyes." He set his pipe down and leaned forward, his expression now one of profound interest. "A fire like that needs careful tending, lest it burn out of control. Tell me, Ryu Haruno, would you like to train under me?"
The world stopped. The air left Ryu's lungs. Train… under the God of Shinobi? The man who had trained the legendary Sannin? The offer was so immense, so far beyond anything he could have imagined, that for a moment he couldn't speak. A tidal wave of pure, unadulterated joy crashed over him, washing away all the fear of Danzo, all the weight of his secret mission.
"Yes!" he blurted out, his voice cracking with excitement. He bowed his head so low his forehead almost touched the table. "Yes, Lord Third! More than anything! I accept!"
Hiruzen chuckled again, a warm and fatherly sound, clearly pleased by the boy's genuine, explosive happiness. "Very good. The path will not be easy. I will demand more from you than you believe you can give." He stood, the morning sun casting his long shadow over the garden. "Meet me here tomorrow morning. At dawn. Your real training begins then."