"Are you sure you're okay?" Minato asked, voice laced with quiet concern. "You don't have to come if it's too much."
Kushina turned, hands resting on her hips, her expression caught between amusement and exasperation. "Minato," she said with a grin, "I'm pregnant, not bedridden. I can handle standing for a speech."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Just making sure you don't end up lecturing the students harder than I do."
Her laughter filled the room like sunlight; it was the kind of sound that made the house feel alive. She stepped close enough to poke his chest lightly. "You're just scared I'll make a better impression."
Minato smiled, catching her hand in his. "Maybe you would." His gaze softened, his tone lowering. "Still… I'd rather you not overdo it."
Kushina tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Says the man who's already gone through half a pot of tea because he's too nervous to sit still."
He blinked. "Nervous?"
"You're fidgeting more than when you met the Daimyō," she teased.
A quiet laugh escaped him; the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Please. I'm only addressing Academy graduates, not the Daimyō. I think I'll survive."
"You say that," she said, "but I can tell when you're overthinking. Don't worry; they'll love you. Everyone does."
He pretended to sigh. "Now you sound like you're giving me a pep talk."
"Maybe I am."
A gentle knock came at the door, and a young academy instructor stepped in, bowing respectfully. "Hokage-sama — everything is ready at the Academy. The students are assembled for your address."
Minato nodded, slipping his Hokage cloak over his shoulders. The fabric, white with red flame patterns licking the hem, caught the light as he fastened it. Kushina moved beside him, smoothing his collar with deft hands.
"Perfect," she said softly. "Let's go show them what a real Hokage looks like."
He smiled, reaching for her hand as they stepped out together.
The Academy courtyard was alive with sound and colour. Rows of students stood in neat formation under the morning sun, their new uniforms crisp, their faces flushed with excitement and nerves. The air smelled faintly of dust, flowers, and freshly oiled weapons. Instructors moved among the ranks, straightening postures, muttering reminders to breathe and not faint during the Hokage's speech.
Parents and families filled the sidelines, a low buzz of conversation rippling through the crowd. Somewhere near the front, a young boy sneezed; another nervously adjusted his sandals.
When Minato appeared, the shift in atmosphere was instant.
The Fourth Hokage walked to the podium, his blond hair catching the sunlight like gold. The flame-trimmed cloak trailed behind him, its edges whispering against the ground. Kushina stood a few paces to the side, her smile radiant yet gentle, the faint swell of her belly visible beneath her loose red dress.
Conversations stilled.
The murmurs faded into silence as hundreds of eyes turned toward the man who had ended the war and brought peace to the village.
Minato's expression was calm; his voice, when it came, carried clear and warm across the field.
"Three years ago," he began, "each of you took your first steps into the path of a shinobi. You learned your first jutsu, failed your first drills, and for some of you —" he smiled faintly "— survived your first explosive tag mishaps."
A ripple of laughter passed through the students. Even a few instructors chuckled.
Minato waited for the sound to fade before continuing. "Today, you stand here not as students, but as the next generation of protectors of this village." His gaze swept across the rows, meeting eyes wherever he could. "Each of you carries the Will of Fire within you — the spirit that binds us together, that keeps this village strong through every trial."
He paused briefly, the wind tugging at his cloak. Kushina watched him with quiet pride; there was something magnetic about him when he spoke — calm, confident, utterly sincere.
"It's easy to think that strength comes from jutsu or talent," Minato continued, "but the truth is simpler. Real strength comes from the people beside you. From your friends, your teammates, your teachers… and the bonds you build as you walk this path."
His voice lowered slightly, each word measured. "The world outside these walls isn't gentle. But you are not alone in it. Remember that. Protect not just this village, but each other."
For a moment, silence stretched across the courtyard — the kind of silence born from genuine emotion. Even the wind seemed to hold still.
Then Minato's tone lifted, bright with warmth. "You are the future flame that will keep Konoha burning bright. Protect it — and each other."
Applause erupted. Parents cheered, instructors nodded approvingly, and the newly minted shinobi-in-training stood a little taller. Kushina clapped softly beside him, her eyes shining with something tender and proud.
Among the rows of students stood Satoru, hands loosely clasped behind his back, a polite smile curving his lips.
He clapped with the rest, though his thoughts ran elsewhere.
'Second class to graduate under the Fourth Hokage,' he mused. 'He's found a much more efficient way to spread the Will of Fire nonsense than the old man ever did.'
The thought wasn't bitter; it was wry, quietly analytical. Minato had a charisma that was impossible to ignore. He spoke with the ease of someone who genuinely believed every word — and somehow, that sincerity made it all sound less like propaganda and more like conviction.
'Still… he's got presence,' Satoru admitted. 'No wonder people follow him.'
The applause faded into the next phase of the ceremony.
An instructor stepped forward, scroll in hand, voice ringing out as he began to read names.
"Oba Sugiura!"
Cheers erupted as Oba bounded up the steps, grin wide enough to split his face. The instructor tied the silver forehead protector around his head with a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.
"Next — Azumi Kirishima!"
Azumi approached more composed, bowing politely as she received hers. Her eyes sparkled as she returned to her spot, clutching the band like it was a treasure.
Satoru's turn came several names later.
"Satoru."
He stepped forward, expression calm, every motion deliberate. The crowd's noise seemed to fade for a moment as he climbed the platform. The instructor handed him the forehead protector; the engraved leaf symbol caught the sunlight, gleaming like liquid silver.
"Congratulations," the man said warmly.
Satoru inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, sensei."
He accepted the band, fingers brushing over the cool metal. The faint reflection of his eyes shimmered against it — and for an instant, the subtle glint of red tomoe flickered before fading away.
The ceremony stretched into midday. Laughter and cheers filled the courtyard as friends compared headbands, showing them off like trophies. Parents called out names; instructors congratulated students; the air itself felt alive with pride and promise.
As the laughter swelled around Satoru, his gaze drifted toward the podium again. Minato was speaking quietly with Kushina, her hand resting briefly over her stomach as she smiled up at him. It was a small, peaceful moment — one that looked almost fragile in its perfection.
Something in Satoru's chest tightened.
'The calm before the storm,' he thought. 'How long before this peace shatters?'
He looked away, exhaling slowly. Around him, life carried on — joy, laughter, the promise of new beginnings. But his mind lingered on the weight behind those promises; the knowledge of what history still had waiting just over the horizon.
'Genin,' he thought. 'Finally. But the real work starts now.'
He untied the cloth, fastening it properly around his forehead. The metal gleamed faintly, catching a fragment of sunlight — and in that reflection, his Sharingan flickered once, subtle and sharp, like a spark of crimson fire.
He stood a little apart from the noise, eyes fixed on the horizon beyond the Academy's walls. The sound of celebration blurred into background hum; laughter, shouts, the clinking of forehead protectors being tapped together like cups.
For a moment, he closed his eyes and let the sunlight wash over his face.
'Let them celebrate, he thought. I'll save the cheering for when I survive the world that waits beyond these walls.'
The courtyard began to empty as the afternoon waned. Minato and Kushina lingered briefly, exchanging polite farewells with instructors before disappearing into the swirl of departing families.
Satoru remained until the crowd thinned completely. The wind rustled softly through the trees, carrying with it the faint echoes of laughter now fading into the distance.
He looked down at the gleaming symbol of Konoha on his forehead and smiled faintly — not with joy, but with quiet resolve.
The next chapter of his life had begun.
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