Danzo tossed the black file onto the desk, his gaze fixed on the subordinate standing before him. The figure wore a white fox mask, its surface glinting ominously in the dim moonlight. The angular red markings on the mask seemed to glow, and the narrow eye slits concealed any trace of emotion.
"Sarutobi, hmm..." Danzo muttered under his breath, his voice low and calculating.
The file included a photo of a young boy, no older than nine. His sharp brown eyes were filled with a bright glow, and the irises had a hint of a bluish tint.
"He completed the graduation examination two and a half years after he began his studies," the Fox-masked subordinate reported, his voice steady. "He is scheduled to graduate in the spring."
Danzo's eyes scanned the file, his attention lingering on the last detail: Guardian: Haruko Sarutobi. He paused, curiosity piqued. Something was intriguing about the relationship between one of the Sarutobi Clan elders and this orphan. Danzo found the situation interesting.
Noticing Danzo's lingering gaze on the guardian's name, the subordinate continued his voice almost as if anticipating the question. "Haruko Sarutobi occasionally trains him. This includes physical exercises and sparring, focusing on Taijutsu."
Danzo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "We conducted a check on him after the Nine-Tails attack, did we not?"
"Yes," the subordinate replied, his tone crisp. "Tiger was sent to evaluate the children at the Sarutobi compound. The report from that day indicated that his chakra levels were minimal—if not nonexistent. Consequently, his name didn't make it to the top of the list."
The Fox-masked figure handed Danzo a second file, bound in violet paper. He flipped it open, revealing another set of documents, this time focused on Raijin.
"And when Rabbit went to the academy to assess the talented students..." the subordinate hesitated, his frustration leaking through his composed exterior. "There's nothing. The boy had been absent for two entire weeks since the start of his third year."
Danzo's gaze remained fixed on the files, his mind calculating the implications. "Didn't Rabbit also provide assessments of the students as marked by their class teachers?" he asked, his tone measured.
"I believe so, but they're... average," the subordinate replied. "In fact, he received the same assessment as the class's top performer."
Danzo's lips twitched in mild interest. He glanced at Rabbit's report, which indicated that Raijin's evaluations were, indeed, unremarkable. The points assigned by Kaiyo, the instructor, showed a pattern of mediocrity—at times even on par with the student Rabbit had identified as the highest achiever.
Satoru Takahashi. Unfit for the Root. Kageyuki Uchiha. Fit for the Root.
Danzo's expression remained unreadable as he sifted through the information. After a moment of contemplation, he set the files aside with deliberate calm, his mind already made up.
As he placed the file of potential academy candidates on the desk, Danzo's voice was cool, and his decision was final. "Very well. Let's meet this Sarutobi."
,***
As the sun began to peek over the horizon, casting its first light on Konoha, Satoru was locked in a sparring match with Kaiyo. The once cheerful and carefree expression on Satoru's face had been replaced with a serious and frustrated look.
Something was clearly bothering him, and Kaiyo knew exactly what it was. Before the training began, Satoru had asked about Raijin's absence from class. The truth had hit him hard, like a sudden fall from a mountain peak, leaving him rattled. Now, he was taking out his frustration in the spar.
With a sudden shift in the air, Kaiyo dashed forward, faster than Satoru expected. His movement was almost a blur, and before Satoru could react, Kaiyo closed the gap. He swung his fist, aiming for Satoru's chest.
Satoru barely managed to jump back in time, his feet slipping on the uneven ground as he narrowly avoided the strike. But Kaiyo didn't stop there. In a smooth, seamless motion, he hurled a kunai at Satoru's midsection.
Satoru's heart raced. I can't dodge that!
Instinct kicked in, and he raised his arm just in time to deflect the kunai with the edge of his forearm. The weapon grazed his skin, leaving a deep gash that sent a jolt of pain through his body. He gritted his teeth but knew there was no time to focus on the wound.
"Focus, Satoru," Kaiyo's voice cut through the tension. "You can't just react. You need to properly deduce it upon your opponent's slightest movement."
Satoru's mind raced as Kaiyo pressed the attack. He closed in again, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks. Satoru did his best to block and dodge, but his movements felt sluggish compared to Kaiyo's fluid, precise strikes.
Kaiyo feinted a punch aimed at Satoru's head, and in an instant, he dropped low, sweeping Satoru's legs from beneath him. The young Academy student hit the ground hard, pain shooting through his back.
"Ugh…" Satoru groaned, pushing himself up, dirt covering his hands and knees.
Determined to recover, Satoru lunged forward, throwing a quick jab at Kaiyo's face. But Kaiyo was already sidestepping, his body moving like water, effortlessly evading the blow. Satoru's fist connected with nothing but air. Before he could react, Kaiyo's leg swept out again, knocking him off balance. Satoru crashed to the ground, his body skidding across the dirt.
"You're overthinking, Satoru," Kaiyo said, his voice distant, almost bored.
Frustration surged within Satoru as he pushed himself up. He had been training for what felt like an eternity, and yet, he still couldn't land a single hit on his teacher. It was as though every time he tried to predict Kaiyo's next move, it was the wrong guess. A sense of failure began to weigh heavily on his shoulders, suffocating him.
"Stop running from me!" Satoru shouted, his voice tight with anger.
Kaiyo didn't show a hint of surprise. He simply didn't react. His calm demeanor remained unwavering as he stepped forward. Without warning, his fist shot out, landing with a resounding thud against Satoru's stomach. The force of the blow knocked the air from Satoru's lungs, and he staggered back, struggling to keep his balance.
"I'm not running," Kaiyo said, his voice as steady as ever. "I'm waiting for you to act. You're the one who's unable to land a hit."
Satoru's chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath, his head spinning, but there was no time to stop. He couldn't afford to hesitate. He had to keep going—he had to land a hit.
With a determined grunt, Satoru pushed forward once again. This time, he moved in with a series of rapid strikes—left hook, right jab, low kick. But each attack was met with a quick dodge or counter. Kaiyo moved with such fluidity, that it felt as if he could anticipate Satoru's every move before it even happened.
Satoru's fist aimed for Kaiyo's chest, but the older ninja shifted with blinding speed, and the punch sailed harmlessly past him. Before Satoru could react, Kaiyo's leg shot up, slamming into Satoru's side with bone-crushing force. Satoru gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, crumpling to the ground in pain.
"Focus!" Kaiyo barked. "You'll never catch Raijin like this."
The words struck a chord. Raijin had always been elusive, but now the reality was clear. Satoru had once believed that, with enough time, he would catch up to him—especially once the Academy started and Kaiyo began tutoring him. But the harsh truth was that the gap between them seemed to grow wider, not narrower.
Satoru gritted his teeth, pushing himself up, his body sore from the blow. His frustration was palpable, boiling over. Every move he made today felt wrong. His mind raced, trying to piece together a plan, but it wasn't working. Every time he tried to anticipate Kaiyo's movements, Kaiyo was already one step ahead—out of reach. Just like Raijin.
"I can't do this," Satoru muttered under his breath, the weight of failure pressing down on him.
"What did you say?" Kaiyo's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.
Satoru lifted his head, meeting Kaiyo's gaze for the first time since the sparring began. The disappointment in Kaiyo's eyes cut deeper than any physical wound.
"I said I can't do it," Satoru spat, his voice laced with frustration. "I can't beat Raijin. No matter how hard I try, he just keeps getting further away."
Kaiyo stepped closer, his expression unchanging but somehow more intimidating today. "Why do you want to catch him?" Kaiyo's voice was low but firm, piercing through Satoru's swirling thoughts. "What makes you think you need to catch him?"
Satoru flinched, as though the question itself had struck him physically. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words faltered. He didn't even have an answer to his own question.
Kaiyo didn't give him a chance to retreat into silence. He stepped even closer, his eyes fixed on Satoru with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "Improve yourself, Satoru. Stop worrying about his pace. Stop comparing yourself to Raijin or anyone else. You're caught up in someone else's shadow, and it's holding you back."
Had he been measuring his worth by Raijin's achievements all this time?
"You'll never surpass him if you're too busy chasing his footsteps," Kaiyo continued, his voice colder now, cutting through the fog of frustration clouding Satoru's mind. "You think you're not good enough because you're not where he is yet? That's a lie. And you're letting that lie control you."
Satoru's chest tightened as the weight of Kaiyo's words sank in. He had been so focused on catching up to Raijin, believing that only by reaching Raijin's level could he be strong. But in doing that, he had failed to see the truth: it wasn't about catching up to anyone—it was about surpassing his own limits.
Kaiyo's gaze was unwavering, and his voice was unwavering as well. "I've trained you, Satoru. I've seen what you're capable of. You've got strength and technique—but none of that matters if you're not willing to take ownership of your own path. Don't let Raijin's speed fool you. It's not about rushing to get somewhere. It's about how you get there."
Satoru's pulse quickened as the weight of Kaiyo's words settled in. It wasn't about Raijin's achievements. It was about his own ability to grow and master what he already had.
Kaiyo's voice softened, but the conviction remained. "You've been hiding behind that frustration, letting it keep you from seeing the bigger picture. It's time to stop."
"You'll catch him, Satoru. But only when you stop chasing him and start walking your own path."
For a moment, Satoru closed his eyes, letting the noise of doubt and comparison fade away. The world around him quieted, and in the stillness, something shifted.
He snapped open his eyes. In that instant, Kaiyo moved.
Like a blur, he threw a feint—a quick, deceptive strike aimed at Satoru's chest. His speed was almost impossible to track, a blur of motion in the dimming light. But this time, Satoru didn't try to anticipate or predict. He didn't think about counters or the perfect technique. He just reacted.
Satoru's body twisted instinctively. He ducked under the incoming strike and countered with an elbow aimed at Kaiyo's side. It wasn't perfect—not by a long shot. The strike lacked the fluidity of someone completely in control, and the impact wasn't as precise as he'd hoped. But it didn't matter. It was fast.
Kaiyo staggered back slightly, caught off guard by the speed and unpredictability of the counter. Satoru's breath was heavy, his muscles aching from the intensity, but the clarity in his mind was undeniable. He wasn't chasing Raijin anymore. He wasn't chasing anyone. He was moving at his own pace.
Kaiyo stepped back, his expression softening for a moment, a flicker of approval crossing his features. "That's more like it."
…
Satoru let out a frustrated sigh, collapsing onto the ground, his arms bracing him as he gazed up at the blue sky. The wheels of his mind were still turning, the internal conflict as clear as day. Kaiyo could see it, too.
"Raijin's just... different," Satoru muttered, his voice heavy with doubt. "And now, he's graduating already? What does that even say about me?"
Kaiyo's eyes narrowed as he considered Satoru's words. "You know, you're comparing again."
Satoru shot him a sharp look. "I'm not comparing. I'm just... wondering why he's always been so far ahead. What am I missing?"
Kaiyo smiled softly, crossing his arms. "You think you're missing something? You're missing some grueling training…"
Satoru shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "But still... how am I supposed to catch up with someone like him? Will training really make me strong?"
"You'll be ready when the time comes," Kaiyo said simply. "But only if you keep your focus on your own growth. Raijin's journey is his own. Yours is yours."
Satoru sighed again, casting a glance at the window. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just hard not to feel left behind."
Kaiyo's gaze softened, and he nodded. "I understand. But you won't catch up if you don't take those steps forward. And, if you're truly friends with Raijin, the best thing you can do is congratulate him and support him."
He paused, his voice steady but thoughtful. "Be happy for him. His achievement doesn't diminish yours, Satoru."
Satoru's expression softened, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I suppose I should congratulate him. Maybe I've been too focused on my own frustration."
Kaiyo's smile widened slightly, his satisfaction clear at the shift in his student's attitude. "It's okay to be frustrated. But you have to remember why you're here. And that means moving forward, not staying stuck."
Satoru stood up, a sense of resolve creeping back into his chest. "Thanks, Kaiyo-sensei." His voice was steadier now, the weight of his doubt lifted just a little. With each word, he felt the start of something new—something that was his own.
…
Satoru stood at Raijin's doorstep, a strange mix of nerves and determination swirling inside him. This wasn't about competition or proving himself—he was here to acknowledge something that had been weighing on his mind. Despite the tightness in his chest, he forced himself to stand tall as he met Raijin's gaze.
Raijin's eyes flickered with surprise before settling into his usual casual smile. "Satoru? What's up?"
Satoru hesitated for a brief second, gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. "I came to congratulate you," he said, his eyes meeting Raijin's. "Graduating early... That's impressive."
"Thanks, Satoru." Raijin raised an eyebrow, catching the tension in his friend's tone. "Come inside. Let's have some tea."
Satoru gave a small nod and stepped inside, his smile flickering for a moment. The warmth of Raijin's home contrasted sharply with the coldness that seemed to hang over Satoru's mind.
"I've got one more thing to ask," Satoru said, his voice shifting slightly, more serious now. "I want to spar with you."
Raijin paused, a small flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Spar?"
"Yes," Satoru replied, his gaze firm. "I need to know where I stand. I need to see how far I have to go."
Raijin studied him closely before letting out a slow breath. "Alright. If you're adamant about it."
They moved outside, tension crackling in the air as they took their stances. Satoru launched forward first, his movements quick and controlled. He unleashed a series of punches and kicks, trying to overwhelm his friend. But each strike met only air or solid blocks, every attempted close-quarter attack countered with effortless precision.
This dance was familiar—Satoru attacking while Raijin dodged—but today, the gap between them was glaringly obvious. How had he been so blind to it before? Every time Satoru thought he'd found an opening, Raijin shut it down instantly, making their spar feel like a one-sided game.
Frustration building, Satoru snapped. "I want you to use everything you've got. No holding back. I need to know how far I have to go."
Well, this is new. Raijin watched his agitated friend, and he nodded slowly. "Alright. If that's what you want, then I won't hold back. Brace yourself."
What happened next was barely comprehensible to Satoru. Raijin became a blur of motion, his fist connecting with Satoru's chest like a cannon blast. Before Satoru could recover his balance, a kick sent him crashing to the ground. He barely registered being grabbed before finding himself thrown across the yard, the impact driving the air from his lungs.
Despite his body's protests, Satoru tried to rise—but Raijin was already there. A swift, controlled strike to the back of his neck, and darkness claimed him.
…
When consciousness returned, it came with a throbbing head and aching body. Through blurred vision, Satoru could make out Raijin standing nearby, watching him quietly. There was no mockery in his friend's eyes—only understanding and a touch of sadness.
Satoru clenched his fists, his chest swelling with an emotion stronger than defeat—determination. "I swear... I'll never give up. I won't let you be ahead forever." His words came out with a quiet intensity, his eyes hard with the promise he was making.
***
Hidden in the shadows, a figure stood motionless, eyes carefully tracking every movement with precision. The Root operative had been observing from afar, having received orders from Danzo to monitor the two, particularly Raijin.
He was a silent watcher, concealed in the trees near Raijin's house. His standard-issue armor and porcelain animal mask blended seamlessly into the darkness, and his focus never wavered as the fight unfolded before him.