To Senju Mayū, time slipped by without warning. Six years passed in what felt like a blink. He was born in Konoha's twenty-third year, and before he fully realized it, the day to enter the Academy was already close.
He remembered the ninja world, vaguely. Enough to know names and outcomes, not enough to rely on them. That kind of half-knowledge was useless here. This was a place where people died young, quietly, and often without meaning.
"Mayū, dinner's ready."
Mizuho's voice drifted through the house, gentle as always. Their home was large, with a small water garden tucked inside, a sign of quiet comfort rather than excess. His mother's red hair caught the light as she moved. Uzumaki blood ran strong in her veins, carrying a vitality that once made her clan famous.
That same vitality had also doomed them.
The Uzumaki were gone now, scattered or dead. Their destruction had happened shortly before Mayū's birth. Konoha had helped, as much as an ally could. His parents had likely met during that chaos.
From that angle, his position was… not bad.
A Senju by name. The child of an Uzumaki survivor. Even if the clan had faded from power, the weight of history still lingered. Enough to grant protection. Enough to grant expectations.
He rose from the yard, brushing dirt from his clothes, and answered lazily, "Coming."
That laziness was earned. Six years of quiet disappointment had a way of dulling ambition.
He felt no surge of chakra tied to legends. No warmth of Yang Release. No whisper of Wood Release. Whatever blood remembered, his body did not answer.
Dreams of summoning forests with one hand and crushing enemies with the other quietly died.
At the table, Mizuho tilted her head, smiling as if she were still a girl herself.
"Mayū, you remember we need to wake up early tomorrow, right?"
He paused, thinking. "Is it the anniversary of you turning thirty-plus?"
Something cracked.
Mizuho's smile did not change. Her hands appeared on his cheeks.
"So playful," she said sweetly.
Then she pinched.
"Ah! That hurts!"
She twisted.
"I get it, I get it!"
He straightened instantly, sat properly, and bowed his head. "I'm sorry."
The punishment stopped.
"Tomorrow is your first day at the Academy," she said. "Don't forget."
The Academy.
In this village, it was the natural path. Dangerous, yes. But respected. Even those who did not become ninja left with skills useful for life. Or survival.
Peace was fragile. Treaties existed, but distrust lingered. The great villages still gathered strength beneath the surface, waiting.
Children like him were being prepared for a future no one spoke aloud.
The Third Hokage stood at the front of the Academy grounds, dressed in ceremonial robes. He looked strong, his age worn lightly, scars from war marking him more than time ever could.
Hiruzen Sarutobi was already a name to fear.
Mayū felt nothing in particular.
The Senju no longer ruled. Their influence had thinned with each generation. There was no reason for the Hokage to notice him among the crowd, especially surrounded by prodigies from clans still burning bright.
He listened with half-lidded eyes as the speech went on. Around him, children stared in awe, inspired, stirred by words of duty and pride.
He was just tired.
Being dragged out early for a morning of speeches was not his idea of progress. Still, the Academy was necessary. Knowledge meant options. Options meant survival.
He scanned the crowd instead.
Familiar faces were hard to pick out at this age. Legends had not yet grown into themselves. Still, one stood out. A boy so round he bordered on spherical.
Akimichi, most likely.
A reliable ally, if nurtured early.
Mayū shifted, planning his approach, then stopped.
Someone else caught his eye.
Messy blond hair. A soft, open smile. Even as a child, the warmth around him was unmistakable, like sunlight given shape.
A small sun.
Mayū's lips curled upward.
That one was impossible to mistake.
He edged closer, careful not to draw attention, eyes still forward as if listening. Then he leaned in.
"My name is Senju Mayū."
The blond boy blinked, surprised, then smiled wider.
"I'm Namikaze Minato."
Mayū chuckled softly. "From today on, we're friends."
Minato nodded, shy but sincere.
Just like that, it was decided.
Neither of them knew what that choice would mean. How war would test it. How history would bend around it.
For now, they were only children.
And the shadow of the future crept closer.