"Is this really your first time refining chakra?"
Kurenai stepped forward as Hanekawa finished his training session, her ruby eyes wide with disbelief.
"First time," Hanekawa confirmed with a blink.
"Damn it!" Kurenai clenched her fists, her cheeks puffing out. "But it's not that easy for you to surpass me!"
"I'll work hard," Hanekawa said, offering her a smile.
She looked away, suddenly flustered. Appearance really does affect perception, she thought irritably. It wasn't fair that a boy his age could smile like that and make her feel all confused.
Yuhi Shinku emerged from the house, holding out a sealed envelope. "Hanekawa."
Hanekawa opened it to find his official admission letter to the Ninja Academy. Class A, first year. He hadn't taken any assessment—Hiruzen had simply used his authority as Hokage. Of course he did.
"Take him to meet your homeroom teacher tomorrow," Shinku instructed his daughter.
"No problem!" Kurenai straightened up, suddenly serious. "I promise to complete the task!"
Shinku turned to Hanekawa. "I'm going to buy supplies you'll need for school. Is there anything you want?"
"We're family now," he added gently. "No need to be restrained."
Hanekawa considered this. "Three-color dango, if you don't mind."
"Three-color dango!" Kurenai blurted out. "Me too!"
Shinku nodded and left. The moment he was gone, Kurenai crossed her arms and lifted her chin smugly. "If you need help with chakra training, just ask me."
Hanekawa couldn't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" she demanded, pouting.
"I thought of something happy."
"What happy thing?" Kurenai frowned, convinced she'd been insulted somehow.
"When's your birthday?" Hanekawa asked suddenly.
"June eleventh. Why?"
"Then I'm older than you," he said with a slight smile. "You should call me brother."
Kurenai's eyes widened. "Absolutely not! I'm your sister!"
"But you're younger."
"That doesn't matter!" She snapped her fingers, inspiration striking. "You need to prove it with strength! Big fists make the rules!"
"So if I beat you in a match, you'll accept it?" Hanekawa raised an eyebrow, already grinning.
Kurenai opened her mouth to agree immediately, then hesitated as she remembered his chakra refinement speed. She bit her lip. "...Wait until you actually defeat me."
His smile widened. Teasing a six-year-old girl is surprisingly entertaining.
The sound of footsteps interrupted them. Hanekawa turned, expecting Shinku to have returned—
His expression froze.
It wasn't Shinku. It was Yakushi Nonō, the orphanage director. But the gentle woman he remembered looked different now—her face was heavy with worry, her usual warmth dimmed by something darker.
Danzo.
It had to be.
"I'll be right back," Hanekawa told Kurenai, moving to meet the director.
Nonō reached out and gently touched his head, her smile sad. "I'm glad you're safe."
"Thank you for your concern, Director," Hanekawa said carefully. "Is something wrong?"
She hesitated, clearly wrestling with something. Finally: "What are Lord Hokage's plans for you?"
"He's sending me to the Ninja Academy."
Nonō's eyes brightened slightly—a flicker of relief. "Hanekawa, listen to me. No matter what happens, you must graduate normally. Promise me."
Translation: Stay in the Academy. Danzo won't touch you there.
"I promise," Hanekawa said, understanding the subtext perfectly.
The Academy would buy him time. Danzo wouldn't risk moving against him while he was under Hiruzen's direct protection. But the old war hawk would wait. He always did.
Join Root? Not happening. Hanekawa had no interest in becoming another brainwashed puppet. Danzo didn't just want loyalty—he wanted to erase who you were. And unlike some people, Hanekawa had no intention of trading his free will for power.
Besides, if he was going to be someone's tool, it'd be Tsunade's. At least she had better aesthetics.
Nonō touched his head again before leaving. Hanekawa watched her go, his mind already working.
Kabuto wasn't in the orphanage yet. That gave him at least ten years. Ten years to grow stronger, to build influence, to find a way to save her from Danzo's grip. The director had shown him nothing but kindness—he wouldn't abandon her to that monster.
Operation Gardenia Project: Commence.
"Hanekawa!" Kurenai called from inside. "Are you coming?"
He turned back to find her bouncing impatiently. "Kurenai, can you teach me how to throw kunai?"
Kurenai's entire demeanor changed. She straightened up, puffing her chest out proudly. "Of course! I'm actually really good at it."
"Then let's start now," Hanekawa said.
Ninja Tool Throwing was a necessary component for synthesizing 'Genius Genin.' The system didn't specify trigger conditions, but based on experience, the answer was obvious: he needed to actually practice it.
As Kurenai dragged him outside, already launching into an explanation of proper throwing technique, Hanekawa's internal monologue ran in overdrive.
Okay. New plan: Graduate the Academy, get stronger, save the director, avoid Danzo's clutches, and maybe—just maybe—convince Tsunade to adopt me. In that order.
Also, I really need to stop getting my head patted. It's becoming a thing.
Kurenai demonstrated her throwing form, her movements sharp and precise. Despite her age, she had genuine talent. "See? You keep your wrist straight, but loose. Too tense and you lose accuracy."
"Got it," Hanekawa said, accepting a practice kunai.
His first throw was perfect.
Kurenai's jaw dropped. "How did you—"
"Good teacher," Hanekawa said simply, already reaching for another kunai.
She crossed her arms, looking both annoyed and impressed. "You're really something, aren't you?"
If only she knew, Hanekawa thought, releasing the kunai. It spun through the air and embedded itself in the target tree with a satisfying thunk.
"Not bad," Kurenai admitted grudgingly. "But don't get cocky. I've been training longer."
"I know," Hanekawa said, and meant it.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Hanekawa continued his practice. Each throw was calculated, each movement precise. Somewhere in the village, Danzo was plotting. Somewhere else, Tsunade was probably losing money at cards.
But here, in this moment, with Kurenai shouting corrections and the satisfying weight of kunai in his hands, Hanekawa allowed himself to feel something close to peace.
Tomorrow, the Academy. Tomorrow, the real game began.
Tonight, he'd practice.