Mount Myoboku was blessed with eternal spring. For those who devoted themselves to training there, time flowed so gently it was easy to forget it was moving at all.
Yet for boys at Shisui and Satoru's age—still growing fast—years could not help but leave their mark. In the blink of an eye, both had grown into young men.
Spring of Konoha Year 59.
After two and a half years of tireless effort, Kushina had finally mastered Sage Jutsu. Not only that, she had learned to wield its power skillfully in real combat.
Though her progress could not match Minato's astounding pace, she was still far faster than Jiraiya had been. Thanks to her enormous chakra reserves, Kushina could gather far more senjutsu chakra, allowing her to maintain Sage Mode longer and fight with greater power.
Her natural talent was also exceptional—so much so that even after entering Sage Mode, the signs of toad transformation were barely visible. In the eyes of Fukasaku and Shima, Kushina was a far more perfect sage than Jiraiya.
The training had yielded enormous gains for Kushina, and now she was ready to step into a new stage of her practice.
During these two and a half years, Jiraiya had returned to Mount Myoboku only a handful of times. Orochimaru's defection had struck him deeply, and ever since, he had roamed the world searching for his former comrade, hoping to bring him back. They had even clashed a few times—but every time, Jiraiya had been forced to retreat.
And yet, perhaps out of lingering sentiment, Orochimaru never struck the killing blow. He merely warned Jiraiya not to follow him again.
The bond between those two ran far deeper than outsiders could ever guess. Even a man like Orochimaru—who could mercilessly kill comrades from the same village—found himself unable to do so when facing Jiraiya.
Repeated failures left Jiraiya weary and disheartened. Lately, he had drowned himself in drink and women, writing novels to pass the empty hours.
Ironically, those novels—born from boredom—became bestsellers, each outselling the last, and soon writing turned into his new passion. His words even began to influence Konoha's younger generation…
"Satoru, have you finished packing? We're heading back soon."
The voice came from outside a small stone hut built from coral rock—barely six square meters, but neatly furnished with a bed, wardrobe, and table.
Inside, Hyuga Satoru was busy packing. After living more than two years on Mount Myoboku, he had gathered quite a few things to bring back.
Outside the door, Uchiha Shisui leaned casually against the frame, a short blade strapped across his back. He smiled as he knocked lightly.
At eighteen, Shisui had spent over two years at Mount Myoboku, guarding Kushina during her training—time that had distanced him from the political strife of the village. He had also successfully survived what had once been foretold as his destined death.
Inside, thirteen-year-old Satoru was stuffing old clothes into his bag. Perhaps because of the mountain's dense Natural Energy, he had grown fast—already 171 centimeters tall, the softness of boyhood giving way to the sharp lines of a young man.
"Almost done," he replied. "If we weren't leaving, I wouldn't even have realized how many old clothes I've piled up here… and half of them don't even fit anymore."
With a wry smile, he pulled a tattered shirt from the wardrobe and tossed it onto the bed.
For a boy his age, outgrowing clothes every few months was normal. Add to that his role as Kushina's sparring partner during her Sage Mode training—fighting her often meant torn sleeves and shredded fabric.
Still, Satoru wasn't one to throw things away lightly. Over time, the wardrobe had filled with unwearable, ripped garments.
He couldn't just leave them littering Mount Myoboku, of course, so he'd decided to bring them back.
The rest of the team had already finished packing—even Kushina, despite being the only woman among them. The slowest, ironically, was Satoru.
"Heh… you really do have a lot of junk," Shisui said. "How about I use a Fire Style to burn them for you? No point dragging all that back."
He stepped inside, glancing at the overstuffed wardrobe, then picked up the torn shirt and shook his head.
Satoru looked up, expression sincere. "Burn them? No need. The smaller ones can be altered for my little brother, and the torn ones can be cut up for cleaning rags. They're still useful."
That reply caught Shisui off guard. Though he'd grown up an orphan, he had never truly known want. The way Satoru thought about reusing everything was new to him—he didn't even know how to respond.
"…Then I'll help you pack. Kushina-sama's getting impatient."
With a small sigh, Shisui joined in. He was a kind soul—gentle in manner and thoughtful in all things. Spending time with him, Satoru often felt as though he had gained an older brother.
It was a feeling he'd never experienced, not even in his past life.
Working together made quick work of the task. Once everything was packed, Satoru activated the Flying Thunder God Technique, teleporting the full load of baggage straight to the Hyuga compound.
Even here on Mount Myoboku, he could still cross space freely using the technique. At this point, distance meant little to him—as long as his marker existed, he could sense it.
He didn't know if other users of the Flying Thunder God could do the same, but to him, it all came naturally, without effort.
When Satoru and Shisui stepped outside, Kushina and Yamato were already waiting in the clearing. Sage Fukasaku and Sage Shima were there too—reluctant to part with them after these long years of companionship.
After exchanging respectful farewells, Satoru joined the others. Kushina, all smiles, was already urging him to activate the teleportation seal.
Before they departed, Fukasaku waved and called out cheerfully:
"Kushina, bring little Naruto to visit sometime!"
"Satoru, once your chakra stabilizes when you're older, come back! I'd love to see how far you can go with Sage Jutsu!"
"Shisui, Yamato—if you ever run into trouble on missions, don't hesitate to call us!"
In over two years, the young shinobi had grown close to the sages. Through Kushina, all of them had even signed summoning contracts with the toads, becoming part of Mount Myoboku's extended family.
Satoru had expressed interest in learning Sage Jutsu, but after examining him, the sages had decided his chakra wasn't yet stable enough. He trusted their judgment and didn't push the issue.
Even without Sage Arts, his growth hadn't slowed in the slightest.
"Don't worry, I'll bring Naruto often!" Kushina said with a grin, waving as she signaled Satoru.
In the next moment, as their chakra linked together, the four of them vanished from sight, leaving the clearing silent once more.
The two sages watched the spot for a long time before turning back toward their dwellings. Life at Mount Myoboku would once again return to its quiet rhythm—but it would feel emptier now.
Konoha Village – Hokage's Office
A sudden ripple of space caught Minato's attention. Looking up from his paperwork, he saw Kushina and the others materialize before him.
"Kushina!"
It had been half a month since he'd last visited Mount Myoboku with Naruto. As Hokage, even with the Flying Thunder God Technique, he couldn't afford to be away long. If anything happened to the village in his absence, he would bear the blame.
So he had always been careful not to overuse the technique.
The moment she saw him, Kushina ignored the setting, vaulted over the desk, and threw herself into his arms.
"Minato…"
He held her instinctively, smiling softly at her whispered words of longing. Then, remembering they weren't alone, he glanced past her with a slightly embarrassed grin.
"Ah—sorry about that, haha. Welcome back, everyone. You've worked hard these past years."
His gaze lingered on Satoru. Minato knew well how much the boy had contributed during Kushina's training—sparring tirelessly, helping her control the overwhelming force of Sage Chakra.
Through Kushina's reports and his own observations, Minato had come to recognize Satoru's extraordinary potential. For some time now, he'd been wondering how best to make use of such a powerful asset.
After all, the Hyuga main house couldn't shelter him forever. A ninja's place was on the field.
Now, perhaps, was the right time.
"Yamato, Shisui—this mission will be logged as S-rank. Your payment will match that grade, and since it was a direct village assignment, no fees will be deducted."
"You'll both have a month of rest, then you'll join my newly formed Anbu."
He gave Kushina's hand a gentle pat before turning to the young men.
"Jonin?"
Both Shisui and Yamato looked stunned. Until now, their ranks had been chunin.
"Yes—jonin," Minato confirmed with a smile. "I've already written your recommendations. The Jonin Council approved them by majority vote. Congratulations."
He paused, then added, "That goes for you too, Satoru. Once the formal notice is issued, all three of you will be full jonin of Konoha."
It was both recognition and a gesture of trust.
Shisui and Yamato's faces lit up with excitement. Even Satoru, usually calm, looked surprised.
"Thank you, Minato-nii," Satoru said without hesitation, using the same familiar tone as always.
Minato chuckled, waving a hand modestly. "It's because you've all earned it. Especially you, Satoru—your record may be short, but the Byakugan recovery mission alone was enough merit for promotion."
His words slipped out casually, but Shisui and Yamato froze.
"Recovered… the Byakugan?"
They had heard of a Kiri jonin who'd obtained a stolen Byakugan and later vanished mysteriously, causing a stir within the Mist. Piecing things together, the truth dawned—Satoru had killed that man.
And at the time… he had only been a boy.
The revelation left them shaken. Minato realized his slip and lightly tapped his forehead, adding with a grin:
"Oh, right—keep that bit confidential, all right? Classified mission."
Shared secrets forged stronger bonds. And just as Minato expected, the others took it as a sign of trust.
Satoru merely shrugged—it didn't matter much to him.
"Satoru," Minato continued, "would you consider joining the Anbu?"
"Masks, covert missions, your identity kept hidden. It's good experience—and you'd have plenty of chances to hone your combat skills."
Satoru blinked. He hadn't expected that. After a moment's thought, he shook his head slightly.
"I'll have to discuss it with my clan first. You know my situation, Minato-nii. There are things I can't decide alone. I carry more than just my own name."
It was a calm, thoughtful refusal.
Minato hid his disappointment well, nodding with understanding. "Of course. If you change your mind, come to me anytime. If you do join, I'll see that you have full freedom—no unnecessary restrictions. I trust your judgment."
He smiled faintly. "But that's for later."
Minato could read him well. The Anbu he envisioned needed not just soldiers, but a true leader—someone he could rely on absolutely.
For now, he had placed Kakashi in charge: talented, intelligent, but still haunted by the past. That worried him.
Satoru, on the other hand, was different. Perhaps not as worldly as Kakashi, but undeniably strong—strong enough to command through sheer presence.
And in the shadowed world of the Anbu, absolute strength often mattered more than anything else.
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