Hanekawa pushed his legs harder, the wind whipping past as he ran through Konoha's streets. The key to being a good spy was staying alert—always thinking two steps ahead, always prepared for the unexpected.
His plan was simple: run until he reached the Konoha Knowledge Bookstore, then slip inside as if exhausted. If anyone questioned him, he'd just claim he needed a rest. Perfectly innocent. Totally normal six-year-old behavior. Definitely not suspicious at all.
"Hanekawa!"
A familiar voice boomed from somewhere behind him. Hanekawa turned to see a figure that could only be described as aggressively green sprinting toward him—upside down, no less.
Might Guy.
"Good morning," Hanekawa called back, offering a polite wave. After a week of training together, they'd become... well, acquainted wasn't quite the right word. Guy had a way of making an impression.
"Don't slow down!" Guy shouted, his voice carrying the kind of enthusiasm that made nearby pedestrians instinctively flinch. "Keep pushing! This is the springtime of youth!"
Please no. Not today.
"I'm going to speed up!" Guy announced, taking a corner at a speed that defied physics and disappearing from sight.
Hanekawa continued running in blessed silence.
An hour later, he finally stopped in front of the Konoha Knowledge Bookstore, his body screaming in protest. His chakra reserves felt completely drained, his muscles burning with the kind of fatigue that came from pushing too hard for too long.
"Hanekawa!"
No. No, no, no.
Guy's voice came from down the street. The man was jogging back toward him, his fists clenched, his entire body trembling with what could only be described as youthful determination.
"Is your backup energy activated?" Guy demanded, striking a pose that made several nearby villagers take an instinctive step back. "We must push ourselves to the limit! We must fight until the very end! This is what it means to live up to our youth!"
Hanekawa stood perfectly still, his expression blank.
I'm back in high school. I'm standing in front of the school before the college entrance exam. Everyone's shouting motivational slogans. I want to die.
The disadvantage of becoming familiar with Guy was that he kept dragging Hanekawa back to memories of his previous life—memories he'd rather leave in the past.
But he couldn't afford to indulge in nostalgia today. He had a meeting to attend.
"I appreciate the encouragement, Guy," Hanekawa said carefully, "but I really need to rest."
He walked into the bookstore before Guy could launch into another speech about the flames of youth.
To his credit, Guy didn't seem offended. In fact, he seemed almost pleased that Hanekawa had treated him normally instead of with the awkward tolerance most people showed. Only Kakashi usually manages that, Hanekawa thought as he watched Guy turn and jog away, presumably to continue his youthful journey elsewhere.
The bookstore was empty—he'd timed it perfectly. A young woman with a pleasant smile approached him almost immediately.
"Hello there, little one. What book are you looking for today?"
Hanekawa had prepared for this. "Do you have 'Intimate Paradise'?"
The woman's smile didn't waver, but she shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not."
Of course not. That masterpiece won't be published for another thirty-six years. Hanekawa had momentarily forgotten that Jiraiya wouldn't write his famous novel until he was in his forties. The disappointment was real, though.
He recovered quickly. "What about 'When Thunder Roars'?"
The woman's expression shifted—just slightly, but enough. She'd recognized the code phrase.
"That book belongs to the manager," she said, her voice taking on a different quality. "Come with me."
She led him upstairs to a small office. After she left, a middle-aged man with an unremarkable face stepped forward.
"Number 9527," the man said, his tone carrying an odd mix of relief and something darker. "I'm glad you're alive."
Hanekawa studied him carefully. I have no idea who this person is.
"I'm your contact," the man continued, reading Hanekawa's confusion. "You can call me Tsuchihashi. As for my greeting—not long ago, the Hidden Cloud attempted to kidnap Uzumaki Kushina. The operation failed, and Lord Hiruzen responded with a comprehensive investigation. Every orphan in the village was examined. You were the last survivor of our group."
The weight of those words hit Hanekawa like a physical blow. If the system hadn't appeared when it did, I'd be dead right now.
He'd known intellectually that being a spy was dangerous, but hearing it stated so plainly made it real in a way theory never could.
Tsuchihashi poured him a glass of water. "How have you been managing?"
Hanekawa took a few sips before answering, carefully omitting any mention of the Ability System. He gave a general overview of his training, his progress, his integration into the village.
"You have that kind of talent?" Tsuchihashi's eyes widened, followed immediately by a flash of regret. "I shouldn't have sent you in. A genius like you could accomplish so much more in the Hidden Cloud."
"I want to stay," Hanekawa said firmly. "Both Lord Hiruzen and Danzo have taken an interest in me. If I try to leave, it would raise too many questions. I'm willing to remain here for the Hidden Cloud."
It was the truth, though not for the reasons Tsuchihashi might think. Hanekawa had no desire to leave Konoha now. He had a life here—training, friends, a mentor in Tsunade. The spy mission had become secondary to simply living.
Tsuchihashi took a deep breath, composing himself. "Your situation is quite different from what we anticipated. The original plan—infiltrating the orphanage to gather intelligence—is no longer viable."
He fell silent, thinking.
"Hanekawa," he said finally, "your new mission is to become a true genius. A genuine prodigy of Konoha."
Hanekawa understood immediately. They want me to climb the ranks. To become someone important enough to access sensitive information.
It was actually the perfect role for him. He'd already passed Hiruzen's inspection. As long as he didn't reveal his true allegiance, he was a legitimate Konoha ninja with every right to advance through the system.
"If you ever need to contact me, come to this bookstore," Tsuchihashi said, his hand briefly touching Hanekawa's shoulder. "Be careful. The hopes of the entire village rest on you now."
"I understand," Hanekawa replied seriously.
"Good work." Tsuchihashi smiled. "There will be rewards in the future. Perhaps even the chance to learn some of the Hidden Cloud's signature jutsu. The Fourth Raikage's techniques are quite remarkable."
Hanekawa's eyes lit up. That would actually be incredible.
"When you leave, take a few books with you," Tsuchihashi advised. "It would look suspicious if you came to a bookstore and left empty-handed."
"Could I take several?" Hanekawa asked, already thinking ahead. "I could give them to the children at the orphanage. It would also help explain why I was here."
Tsuchihashi nodded approvingly. "A good instinct. But not too many—you're only six. People would wonder how you could afford it."
Smart. He's definitely experienced at this.
Downstairs, Hanekawa selected seven picture books that would appeal to children, paid for them with money Tsunade had given him, and stepped back out onto the street.
He stopped immediately.
Obito Uchiha was helping an elderly woman cross the street about fifty meters away. The old woman glanced in Hanekawa's direction, and for just a moment, her eyes sharpened with something that looked like recognition before returning to their kind, gentle expression.
Hanekawa's instincts screamed at him to keep moving, to not draw attention. He turned and walked toward the orphanage without acknowledging Obito.
Behind him, he heard the old woman say, "Thank you for helping me, Obito. You're such a kind boy."
That was close, Hanekawa thought as he walked. Too close.
He filed away the image of that old woman's sharp eyes. In the spy business, you learned to notice the details others missed. And something about her had felt... off.
But that was a problem for another time. Right now, he had books to deliver and a cover story to maintain.
The life of a double agent was exhausting.