Enrollment matters were wrapped up in a single morning.
The afternoon was declared a holiday—essentially a grace period for the newly admitted students to return home, prepare their school supplies, or simply savor their final moments of leisure.
From tomorrow onward, they would officially become Ninja Academy students.
Reserve forces for future shinobi.
Soldiers who would one day wield extraordinary power.
Perhaps when Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara first founded the Hidden Village system, their intention had been pure: to give everyone a stable place to live, to end the endless cycle of killing, to unite scattered clans, and to protect future generations so that children would no longer be forced onto the battlefield by their elders.
But once the Hidden Villages fused with nation-states and formed the "One Country, One Village" system, that ideal became impossible to sustain.
Small-scale conflicts between ninja clans over mercenary missions evolved into full-fledged military competition between nations and villages.
During the Warring States era, ninja clans still possessed a degree of autonomy. They could refuse employment. They retained some control over their fate.
Once bound to the machinery of the State, that freedom vanished.
When war broke out, it no longer came in short bursts—it expanded in scale, dragged on longer, and claimed far more tragic casualties than even the Sengoku era ever had.
And when adult ninja fell in great numbers, the younger generation was inevitably pushed onto the battlefield.
Nothing had truly changed.
Perhaps Uchiha Madara had seen this clearly even back then realizing that the dreams he and Hashirama shared as children were too naïve. Ninjas could not escape the destiny imposed upon them.
So he chose a different path.
He sought to go further than mere villages, to completely unify the Ninja World alongside Hashirama, to end a thousand years of war and tear humanity free from this cursed cycle.
But Senju Hashirama had already become trapped in the illusion of peace he himself had built, stubbornly refusing to allow anyone to disturb it.
For the sake of the Village, he was willing to kill anyone who threatened it—whether that was his closest friend, Uchiha Madara, or even his own blood.
As long as Hashirama lived, peace endured.
The moment he died, the First Ninja World War erupted—followed by the Second.
And now, the Third was underway.
From deep underground, Uchiha Madara watched everything unfold with cold detachment. Each new war only reinforced his conviction that he had been right all along.
But by then, his body was broken, his strength spent—and Hashirama, the only man who could have stood beside him, was long gone.
To pursue his ideals, Madara was forced to rely on other methods.
And in doing so, he fell into yet another snare—becoming nothing more than the chief project manager for Black Zetsu, the true architect behind a conspiracy layered within conspiracies.
Even he had not escaped the fate of being controlled.
At noon, Higashino Megumi and Uzuki Sakura gathered their children, planning to grab a casual lunch.
At that hour, neither of them felt like heading home to cook.
At the school gate, the four of them spotted Gekkō Hayate and Uchiha Shisui exiting with the crowd.
Hayate, predictably, was angling for a free meal. Shisui, on the other hand, was preparing to return to the Uchiha compound.
Uzuki Yūgao waved her fair, chubby little hand enthusiastically.
"Over here, Hayate-niichan! We're over here! And Shisui-kun—do you want to come eat with us?"
Shisui, who had been about to excuse himself, froze in surprise. "Eh? Is that really okay? I won't be a bother… will I?"
Megumi smiled gently. "What trouble could there be? Aren't you friends with Shin and the others? Or is someone at home already making lunch?"
Over the past year or two, Shin and the others had spent plenty of time with Shisui.
Naturally, the adults of all three families were aware of this—and none of them objected.
Those who truly harbored hostility toward the Uchiha were certain high-ranking officials.
Ordinary ninja and villagers, at worst, found the clan aloof or difficult to approach, perhaps nursing a mild dislike.
After all, as the clan in charge of the Konoha Military Police Force, the Uchiha interacted frequently with the populace.
Their pride as the "number one clan," combined with their often cold and impersonal demeanor, had inevitably bred resentment.
Yet anyone who had actually fought alongside an Uchiha knew the truth: they were reliable comrades.
At the very least, given their temperament, they would never even consider using an ally as a scapegoat.
As for whether the Uchiha had their share of bastards—of course they did.
But then again, which clan didn't?
When Shisui heard Higashino Megumi mention family, his head lowered slightly.
"My parents… aren't around anymore," he said softly. "It's just me at home."
Uzuki Sakura's expression softened immediately. "What a responsible, sensible child. Come along with us."
Originally, the two women had planned to take the three children to a simple set-meal restaurant.
But now that their friend had joined them, there was only one reasonable destination.
Yakiniku Q.
During the meal, as Shisui watched his two friends being doted on by their families, a faint flicker of envy and longing passed through his eyes.
He quickly lowered his head so no one would notice.
Then, suddenly—Several generous slices of freshly grilled meat landed on his plate, releasing a rich, irresistible aroma.
Megumi smiled warmly and urged them on. "Eat more. You too, Hayate. Both of you are a bit thin—you need to grow as sturdy as Shin."
Shisui looked up, his eyes bright, and smiled happily. "Mm. Thank you, Auntie Megumi."
Hayate glanced at Shin's solid build and silently complained in his heart. I want to… but my body just won't cooperate.
Higashino Shin, for his part, couldn't quite figure Hayate out either. His strength had improved a lot, yet he stubbornly refused to put on any weight.
Is he secretly using the Transparency Technique to sneak into the women's bathhouse every day?
That didn't seem right. After all, the guy didn't even have that god-tier technique yet.
After the meal, everyone went their separate ways.
As Shisui's figure disappeared down the street, Higashino Megumi spoke softly, almost to herself.
"Actually, in every war, the Uchiha suffer heavy losses. Yet it feels like no one ever talks about it.
The Village only sends them to the battlefield when manpower is lacking. I really don't understand how things ended up like this between them and Konoha."
Ninja was a profession built on secrecy, and the Hidden Villages were even more so.
The grievances between the Uchiha and the Village—especially matters like the final battle between Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama—were all classified secrets.
The Higashino family were merely civilian ninja. How could they possibly know the full story?
"Why, Mom? Do you want to know the reason?"
Megumi was startled. "Do you actually know? That's not something a child your age should understand."
"It's because of fear," Higashino Shin said calmly. "Those in power fear what they can't control. They're afraid another Uchiha Madara will appear—because Konoha no longer has a God of Shinobi."
Megumi had always thought her son was just precocious. At that moment, she realized she didn't truly understand him at all. A chill ran through her, and she glanced around uneasily.
"Shin, those words don't align with the Will of Fire at all. Don't ever say things like that again."
"Don't worry, Mom. No one's eavesdropping. But you shouldn't discuss things like this outside in the future. Not even at home—it could cause trouble."
She sighed. "Are you lecturing me now? Fine, fine, I understand."
"So… are we going home next?"
"No. Come with me."
Megumi led her son to a flower shop, bought several bouquets, and then took him to the Konoha Cemetery on the back mountain.
They placed fresh flowers before two graves that were not next to each other.
Those buried here were ninja who had died in the line of duty for Konoha. Their names were engraved on the Memorial Stone—among them, Higashino Shin's grandfather and uncle.
The cemetery for ordinary civilians lay elsewhere.
Among the many festivals in the Land of Fire, three were devoted to honoring ancestors, so Shin came here often.
As Megumi brushed dust from the gravestones with careful hands, she spoke quietly. "Your grandfather died at the end of the First War. Your uncle died at the end of the Second."
"They both fell just as the wars were about to end. Your uncle had planned to marry afterward and use the rare time of peace to help the Higashino family grow… but in the end, he couldn't escape it."
She paused, then continued, "Seeing how clever you are, your father and I once thought about having another child—a little brother or sister for you. But then the war came again."
"The Higashino family's luck always seems a bit… lacking."
"Now your father is on the battlefield, and his fate is uncertain. That leaves only you, Shin."
"Mom… are you worried about something?"
"Your father told me about your strength. You're a true genius, son. But if possible, don't graduate early like Kakashi. Stay in school. Have a few more quiet years."
"No problem," Shin replied evenly. "But sometimes, it's not up to us. If this war becomes too brutal and drags on for years, draining the Village's strength, our generation will eventually be sent to the front."
Megumi nodded slowly. "I know. Perhaps this is the destiny ninjas can never escape."
"Destiny?" Shin echoed. "Maybe. But if people with extraordinary power willingly reduce themselves to tools and weapons, then that destiny really can't be escaped."
Higashino Megumi was, at heart, a traditional ninja. She didn't fully grasp her son's meaning.
"Aren't ninjas weapons? It's been that way for a thousand years."
"No, Mom. Just because something has always been that way doesn't mean it's right. That's what you call a mental seal."
She looked at him steadily. "Then why do you still want to be a ninja, Shin?"
"Because I haven't experienced it yet," he answered honestly. "I want to taste the excitement of this profession. But that doesn't mean I agree that the current state of ninjas is reasonable."