Itsuki finished his ramen, paid, and left without another word.
The exchange with Tsunade had been sharp, but contained. It was a matter of history and temperament, not recklessness. He had no intention of provoking Jiraiya or Orochimaru as well. Antagonizing all three Sannin in one afternoon would have been stupidity, not confidence.
Behind him, the three legends remained seated.
Jiraiya watched the boy's back disappear down the street and scratched his cheek. "Talented, sure. But he's got a mouth on him."
Orochimaru's lips curved faintly. "Confidence at that age is rare. It usually breaks… or evolves."
Tsunade said nothing. Her irritation had cooled, replaced by contemplation.
They had all sensed it—the protective presence in the shadows around the ramen stand. At least three jōnin-level chakra signatures had lingered nearby, subtle but ready. The Uchiha clan did not leave a prodigy unattended.
Had Tsunade made a move, she would not have struck only a child.
None of them were foolish enough to escalate that situation.
Itsuki did not return to his own house.
Two days earlier, his parents had departed on a high-level mission outside the village. The details had not been shared with him, only that the rank was substantial.
Until their return, he was staying at his grandfather's estate.
The Uchiha compound loomed ahead, lanterns beginning to glow in the evening light. A guard appeared the moment he crossed the gate.
"Young Master. Lord Kazuma has been waiting."
Itsuki nodded. "Take me to him."
He was led through familiar corridors into a quiet room lined with scrolls and low wooden shelves. Uchiha Kazuma sat near the far wall, posture straight, eyes sharp despite his age.
"Sit."
Itsuki obeyed without ceremony, reaching for a slice of fruit from a nearby plate.
"You wanted to see me?"
Kazuma studied him for a moment before speaking.
"Do you intend to graduate early from the Academy?"
Itsuki paused mid-bite.
"Graduate? Why?"
Kazuma's brow twitched faintly. "Because you've already surpassed the curriculum."
Ah.
So that's it.
"Is this about the practical assessment?" Itsuki asked.
Kazuma exhaled slowly. "The Hokage suggested it."
Itsuki blinked once.
Sarutobi Hiruzen.
"He believes there's little point in keeping you in a classroom when you already possess genin-level combat capability," Kazuma continued. "After today, perhaps more than that."
Itsuki set the fruit down.
"And what do you think?"
Kazuma's gaze hardened slightly.
"I think," he said carefully, "that you were far too conspicuous."
There it was.
Itsuki folded his hands loosely in his lap.
"You and the Hokage observed the match," he said.
Kazuma's silence was confirmation enough.
Itsuki leaned back slightly.
"So you were watching."
"The Hokage insisted," Kazuma replied flatly. "I accompanied him."
Itsuki exhaled through his nose.
Two Kage-level observers, concealed during a five-year-old's sparring session.
That explained the faint scent of smoke.
Kazuma continued.
"You defeated the Hokage's son cleanly. You displayed advanced control of the Body Flicker Technique. You spoke boldly."
He paused.
"You did not moderate yourself."
Itsuki considered that.
"If I had drawn it out, would that have been better?" he asked calmly. "An artificial struggle?"
Kazuma's eyes narrowed.
"Yes."
Itsuki did not laugh.
"I didn't know we had an audience," he replied. "And even if I had, should I deliberately underperform?"
"This is Konoha," Kazuma said quietly. "Strength attracts interest. Interest attracts pressure."
Itsuki met his gaze directly.
"And weakness attracts elimination."
For a moment, neither spoke.
The air between them felt heavier than any chakra surge earlier that day.
Kazuma finally sighed.
"The Hokage's proposal is simple. Graduate you early. Place you under a jōnin instructor. Accelerate your growth."
"And?"
"And I declined."
Itsuki blinked.
Kazuma's voice remained steady.
"You are five."
Silence stretched.
"The Academy is not just about technique," Kazuma continued. "It is about time. Relationships. Observation."
Politics.
He didn't need to say it aloud.
If Itsuki graduated now, he would enter the shinobi system directly—missions, visibility, scrutiny.
Remaining in the Academy provided cover.
A prodigy in training.
Not yet a deployed asset.
"I prefer staying," Itsuki said after a moment.
Kazuma's eyes flickered faintly with approval.
"Explain."
"I can refine fundamentals without pressure. Build a network quietly. Measure my peers."
He paused.
"And pretend to be less threatening."
Kazuma's lips twitched.
"You are already failing at that."
Itsuki allowed himself a faint smile.
"I'll adjust."
Kazuma studied him for a long moment.
"You understand that today placed you on several radars."
"Yes."
"The Hokage."
"Yes."
"The Sannin."
A slight pause.
"Yes."
"And others."
Itsuki's gaze sharpened subtly.
"Yes."
Kazuma nodded once.
"Then we are aligned."
The old Uchiha leaned back slightly.
"You will remain in the Academy."
Itsuki inclined his head.
"Understood."
As he rose to leave, Kazuma added quietly:
"Strength is not the problem."
Itsuki paused at the doorway.
"It's timing."
Itsuki nodded once.
He understood perfectly.
Power revealed too early becomes a target.
Power revealed too late becomes irrelevant.
The balance was narrow.
And he had just stepped onto it.