Inside the Hokage building.
Sarutobi Hiruzen worked through a stack of papers, thin smoke from his pipe drifting through a shaft of light.
BANG!
The office door flew open. Shimura Danzō strode in, face dark.
A dangerous glint flashed in his single eye. The bandages on his right arm quivered with his movement.
"Hiruzen, how long will you let that Uchiha brat run free?" Danzō's voice rasped like sandpaper. "He has no intention of heeding your warning."
Hiruzen exhaled a ring of smoke, calm. "The child attends class as usual. As for his dealings with Kushina, that is the freedom of youth."
"Freedom?" Danzō sneered and slapped the desk hard.
"Do not forget he is Uchiha. Uzumaki Kushina concerns the Nine Tails. You know better than anyone what those Sharingan mean to a tailed beast."
The pipe's ember pulsed, lighting the deeper furrows on Hiruzen's face.
He paused, tapped ash, and let the sharp scent of tobacco fill the space between them.
"Hand him to me," Danzō said, voice dropping, a chill flickering in his eye. "Root's conditioning is more than enough to strip the Uchiha brand and make him ours."
"No."
Hiruzen refused without a heartbeat's hesitation.
"Stoking conflict with the Uchiha now would be a disaster for the Leaf."
As a veteran of the First Great War, he knew the shinobi world had enjoyed peace for a long time.
That long rest had let nations gather strength. It had also let hardliners raise their heads. War had not broken out yet, but border skirmishes grew by the day. Hiruzen felt certain a new war could come within years.
In such a climate, he would not provoke the Uchiha.
Danzō narrowed his eye and shifted tack. "Then give Kushina to me for training. The future jinchuriki of the Nine Tails needs stricter discipline."
"She is Lady Mito's kin." Hiruzen's voice spiked, his pipe tapping the desk with a sharp click.
He knew exactly what Danzō wanted: to turn the Nine Tails into his private soldier.
Others might not know what Root was. Hiruzen knew all too well.
If he handed Kushina over, and Lady Mito demanded answers, would he as Third Hokage take the blame for Danzō?
Absurd.
"Hiruzen, will you sit by and watch the Nine Tails fall into Uchiha hands?" Rebuffed on every point, Danzō seethed.
"Enough."
Hiruzen set down the pipe and fixed him with an unflinching stare. "I am the Hokage."
They faced off, tension hardening the air.
"You will regret this."
Danzō snorted, wheeled about, and slammed the door behind him.
After a long moment, Hiruzen sighed and signaled into the shadows.
An Anbu appeared without a sound.
"Go to the Academy." The Hokage's voice carried weariness.
The Anbu bowed and vanished, leaving Hiruzen at the window.
He looked toward the distant school, eyes complicated.
As one who had lived through the wars, he could already see the storm clouds gathering on the horizon.
...
At that moment, Uchiha Jin had just finished training and was drinking in the Holy Master's black vapor, his drained chakra refilling with astonishing speed.
He opened his eyes, three tomoe turning slowly.
The Horse talisman's power ran through him. The Holy Master's haze replenished any loss. He now possessed a body that shrugged off death like the Ōtsutsuki and stamina to rival a jinchuriki.
He almost hoped the Third or Danzō would try something.
It would be best if they sent a few Anbu or Root fodder to test his current measure.
But the next few days passed in quiet.
He went to class and home on schedule, then into the sealed space to train, and at times to the grounds for Elder Hikaku's instruction.
Until today, when the elder summoned him with word of a suitable sparring partner.
...
"So that is why Elder Hikaku asked me personally?"
Uchiha Fugaku stood in the training field and looked Jin over, an appraising glint in his eyes.
He had heard of the youngster the elder favored, but this was their first face to face.
"I am too long in years," Hikaku said with a light smile. "My experience can guide the boy, but real combat is another matter. I thought of you, Fugaku."
"Among the young in our clan, you are without question the finest."
"You flatter me. Compared to you, I still have much to learn."
Fugaku took the praise with modesty, returning a compliment of his own.
Jin watched the polite exchange in silence and studied the younger Fugaku.
Even in a clan of striking faces, Fugaku's was its own cast, a handsome calm that spoke of composure.
Fugaku seemed to sense Jin's gaze and turned.
They met eyes. He spoke.
"Since the elder asked me to spar with you, I will treat it seriously. I hope you can keep up."
He walked to the center. Jin followed without a word.
Fugaku wasted no time. His Sharingan opened, scarlet blooming, three tomoe turning in his eyes.
Jin's own three tomoe surfaced to meet them without a trace of fear.
"Three tomoe..." Fugaku's pupils tightened, surprise cutting across his crimson gaze.
His easy look hardened. Black hair lifted in an unfelt breeze.
They raised their hands at almost the same time. With Sharingan aid, they mirrored the signs perfectly.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique."
Two blazing spheres collided midair with a deafening roar.
Elder Hikaku narrowed his eyes. Jin's fireball clearly had the edge.
It was not only the volume of chakra, but exquisite mastery of Fire nature.
Yet as the elder had said when teaching the technique, Great Fireball excelled at masking sight.
Sure enough, when the smoke thinned, Fugaku was gone.
An instant later he ghosted behind Jin, kunai flashing for the heart.
"A shadow clone. When did he..."
The blade pierced only smoke. Fugaku's heart lurched. He leaped back and swept the field with his eyes, searching for Jin.
"Looking for me?"
The voice came from behind. Fugaku turned on reflex to block, but the clash of kunai sent a jolt through him and hurled him back.
"Take it a little more seriously, Fugaku-senpai, or the loss will be ugly."
Jin did not press, simply stood where he was.
Fugaku steadied and stared, cursing in his heart.
"He is six?"
Even after seeing the Sharingan, he had tried to rate Jin higher than most children.
He now realized he had still underestimated him.
A clone even he had not noticed. A losing exchange in Fire Release. The brute force in that last clash.
Fugaku understood. He could not treat Jin as a child. Across from him stood a fighter who could threaten, even kill.
"I apologize for my earlier slight. Jin, you are a true prodigy. It will not happen again."
His pupil force surged, flooding the space. He was done holding back.