Konoha.
As the shockwaves of the Nine Tails incident faded and the borders stabilized, the village slowly regained its rhythm. Streets grew lively again, and the air carried a sense of cautious renewal.
Near the forest edge, a training ground under the Military Police's jurisdiction rang with the sounds of combat. Blows landed. Weapons clashed.
Mitarashi Anko staggered back, gasping for breath. Sweat soaked through her mesh armor, her bangs plastered to her forehead as she bent forward, hands on her knees, drawing in air in rough gulps.
"Y-Yoru… how did you get this much stronger?"
Across from her, Uchiha Yoru stood relaxed, barely winded, a faint smile on his face. They'd sparred hard, but the gap between them was painfully clear.
"It's not that I improved overnight," Yoru replied calmly. "You've been slacking lately. Orochimaru-sensei specifically asked me to keep an eye on you."
Anko clicked her tongue, irritation flashing across her face.
"Tch. You and Orochimaru-sama are always sneaking around, doing who knows what."
Despite the complaint, she still looked like her old self. Straightforward. Loud. Unpolished.
And still untouched by the storms ahead.
Yoru watched her carefully. He knew what was coming. Orochimaru's eventual fall would shatter the network around him, and Anko would be one of the first to take the hit. In another timeline, she would stall, trapped by the past, relying on techniques she learned as a child and never truly moving forward.
He wasn't letting that happen again.
"From today on," Yoru said lightly, "you're training with me every day. Or you can keep cutting corners. Your choice."
He paused, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"By the way, my little brother Itachi is only six, and he's already progressing fast. At this rate, he'll graduate before long."
Anko snorted.
"Oh please. That cheap provocation won't work on me."
She waved him off, though the challenge clearly struck home.
"I get it. I'll train seriously."
Yoru chuckled and pulled out a scroll, tossing it to her.
She caught it, blinking. "What's this?"
"Orochimaru-sensei's training plan for you," Yoru said. "Whether you follow it or not is up to you."
Anko unrolled the scroll. Her eyes widened as she read through the carefully structured regimen. The momentary fatigue vanished, replaced by raw excitement.
She snapped the scroll shut and lifted her chin, fire back in her gaze.
"Hah. You're only ahead because of your Sharingan. I'll catch up."
Then, with all the confidence of a born troublemaker, she grinned.
"I'm Mitarashi Anko. A real genius."
Yoru smiled.
Orochimaru didn't take students lightly. Anko's chakra reserves, learning speed, and combat instincts were the real deal. She'd just never been guided properly at the right moment.
"This next three years matters," Yoru added. "It's your prime growth period. Orochimaru-sensei believes that if you don't waste it, you can reach jonin."
That did it.
Anko straightened immediately, eyes burning with determination. Orochimaru's words carried weight for her. Idol-level weight.
"Fine," she said sharply. "I'll prove it to him. And to you."
"Good," Yoru replied. "Focus on chakra conditioning first. Snake techniques as your core. Fire Release as support."
Anko crossed her arms, smirking. "Just wait, Uchiha prodigy. I'll show you what I can really do."
Watching her storm off to start training again, Yoru let out a quiet breath.
Time was tightening around him. When everything fell apart, only those with real strength and real connections would survive the fallout. He needed allies. Not tools. Allies who wouldn't crumble when the ground shifted.
His gaze drifted toward the forest behind him, a sharp glint flashing through his eyes.
The board was already moving.