The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the bustling grounds of Konoha Academy. The grounds were filled with excited families, proud teachers, and eager students, all gathered to celebrate the graduation of the Academy's newest generation of ninjas. The air buzzed with animated conversations and bursts of laughter, creating an atmosphere that was both celebratory and relaxed.
Today marked a significant milestone for the young ninjas who had spent countless hours training, learning, and growing together. Years of hard work had led to this moment, and the sense of accomplishment was palpable. The graduates, dressed in formal attire, stood out amidst the crowd, their faces a mix of nervous excitement and pride.
Among the sea of graduates sat Raijin, his legs dangling casually from the bench as he observed the proceedings.
The ceremony continued with one of the instructors stepping forward, clearing his throat to capture the attention of the crowd. His voice, steady and commanding, carried across the courtyard with practiced ease. "Before we begin with the Hokage's speech," he announced, "I'd like to take a moment to introduce our valedictorian, a student who has demonstrated exceptional skill, dedication, and leadership throughout their time at the Academy."
All eyes turned toward the stage as one of the graduates rose from their seat and made their way to the podium. The valedictorian, a young ninja with a determined expression, unrolled a scroll with slightly trembling hands.
The crowd fell silent, anticipation hanging in the air as the graduate began to speak.
"Good morning, everyone – Hokage-sama, sensei, family, and friends…"
As the speech continued, Raijin's attention drifted to the crowd. His eyes scanned the faces, spotting a few Chūnins scattered here and there, maybe even a couple of Jōnins among them. But there were no signs of ANBU—at least, none that were obvious. He briefly considered switching to his 'sensory mode' to check if they were hiding in the crowd but quickly dismissed the idea. He didn't want to risk drawing attention to himself.
The valedictorian's voice grew stronger, pulling Raijin's focus back to the stage. "Today, we stand here not just as graduates, but as the future shinobi of Konohagakure. These past years have taught us more than just ninjutsu—they've taught us teamwork, perseverance, and the strength of bonds. We've fallen, we've failed, and we've struggled—but we've always risen, stronger than before."
In the crowd, parents wiped away proud tears, their faces glowing with emotion. Among the crowd a young girl from the Academy—likely someone's little sister—sat high on her father's shoulders, trying to get a better view of the ceremony. Her small hands gripped his hair for stability, her wide, curious eyes darting eagerly across the scene as if trying to memorize every detail. The faintest gasp of wonder escaped her lips as she pointed toward the stage, her voice a hushed whisper of excitement. Around her, the crowd buzzed with quiet murmurs of encouragement and shared pride.
The speech reached its climax, the valedictorian's voice steady: "As we leave the Academy and take our first steps as Genin, let's carry with us the will of fire, the belief that together, we can protect what matters most.
Thank you to our sensei for your guidance, and to our families for your unwavering support. Congratulations to us all. Our real journey begins now. Let's make it count!"
Applause erupted from the gathered crowd, and Raijin joined in, clapping along with them.
Though he could now officially wear the ninja headband, Raijin cringed at the thought. Having seen countless cosplay versions of it online, even in this world the symbol had lost some of its significance in his eyes. To him, it felt more like a prop than a badge of honor. For now, he chose to keep the headband tucked in his pocket, deciding he'd wear it only when absolutely necessary.
With that decision made, Raijin made his way toward the food stalls, figuring he could at least enjoy some sweet dango on his graduation day. The stalls were still bustling with activity, the aroma of grilled meat and sugary treats filling the air. As he approached, he noticed a few of his fellow graduates laughing and chatting nearby, their headbands proudly displayed. Raijin couldn't help but smile faintly.
By the time Raijin finished his dango, the ceremony grounds had mostly emptied. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Most of the newly graduated Genin had already left, eager to celebrate their first day as official shinobi with family and friends.
…
From his vantage point atop the Hokage Building, Danzo watched the graduation ceremony unfold below with a rare, calculating interest. Such occasions typically fell beneath his notice, but this year's graduates had several intriguing prospects. His visible eye narrowed as he studied the proceedings below.
The Academy grounds buzzed with the usual festivities—proud parents embracing their children, newly minted Genin adjusting their headbands with a mix of pride and nervousness, and that insufferable atmosphere of optimism that always permeated these events.
To Danzo, it was all a display of naivety. How foolish they were, reveling as if achieving the rank of Genin marked some grand accomplishment. True shinobi, he knew, were not forged under these cheerful skies but in the battles, where the weight of duty and sacrifice shaped them into tools of necessity.
His attention shifted through the crowd, settling on one particular graduate—Raijin Sarutobi. Danzo's gaze fixed on the boy with an intensity that betrayed his interest. Initially, it had been Raijin's peculiar academic record that caught his attention: a pattern of deliberately average performance despite clearly possessing the skills to excel. It was a calculated mediocrity, one that suggested the boy was hiding something—or perhaps, hiding from something.
But now, watching Raijin in person, something else drew Danzo's scrutiny. The way the boy carried himself and the way he observed his surroundings were not with the wide-eyed wonder or exuberant curiosity typical of his age. Instead, Raijin moved with a careful, calculated awareness, his eyes sharp and observant, his demeanor calm yet alert. It was a quality Danzo recognized all too well, for it mirrored his own.
In Raijin, Danzo saw a reflection—not just of himself, but of his dear friend Hiruzen as well. The boy seemed to embody a blend of light and shadow, a duality that intrigued Danzo. Was it because Raijin bore the Sarutobi name? Or was it because the boy was truly exceptional? Danzo couldn't yet say, but he was determined to find out.
The inconsistencies in Raijin's records told their own story. Minor discrepancies and major anomalies that didn't align, following patterns Danzo himself had often constructed to obscure certain things or truths. These weren't the random variations of a typical student's file – they showed the deliberate precision of someone covering their tracks. Someone… Hiruzen—or perhaps Raijin himself—had gone to such lengths to ensure certain details remained hidden. Why?
And the boy was a Sarutobi, a member of the clan that had produced Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, and the legendary Sasuke Sarutobi. That alone made him a figure of interest, but Raijin's peculiarities elevated him to something more… his potential. Danzo's mind churned with possibilities, his interest piqued by the young Sarutobi.
Danzo waited patiently, his presence unnoticed by the jubilant crowd below. He observed as Raijin left the Academy grounds with unhurried movements. It was only then that Danzo made his approach, emerging from the shadows with the silence of a specter.
As he drew closer, he noted how quickly Raijin detected his presence—a subtle shift in the boy's posture, a flicker of awareness in his body. Most Genin wouldn't have sensed Danzo at all, but Raijin did. It was a small detail, but one that pleased Danzo immensely.
The boy had potential—potential that could be shaped, honed, and directed toward a greater purpose. Danzo's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he stepped forward, his presence looming like a storm cloud. He would watch Raijin closely, for the boy was more than he appeared.
In time, Danzo would determine whether Raijin Sarutobi was a tool to be wielded or something to be neutralized.
***
Before departing after the ceremony's completion, Kaiyo caught Raijin with a reminder, his voice a mix of pride and instruction. "Return the day after tomorrow at 8 AM for team assignments," he said, his firm grip on Raijin's arm emphasizing the importance of the message. Raijin's black hair, neatly tied back, swayed slightly as he nodded in acknowledgment.
As Raijin stepped outside the Academy, his thoughts drifted to the possibilities of team formation. That's when he felt it.
The footsteps were too perfect, too measured—completely silent to his ears. It wasn't until he sensed the faint displacement of air, a nearly imperceptible shift in the atmosphere, that Raijin turned.
Standing a short distance away was a figure who exuded an aura of quiet menace. The man wore dark robes, his face partially obscured, with only a single exposed eye regarding Raijin with calculating coldness. His mere presence seemed to drain the joy from the graduation day atmosphere, replacing it with a heavy, almost suffocating tension.
Danzo Shimura.
Raijin's instincts screamed danger, every fiber of his being on high alert. Danzo's reputation preceded him, and his sudden appearance was anything but coincidental. The air grew still as if the world itself was holding its breath.
"Congratulations on your graduation," Danzo spoke, his voice low and measured, carrying a weight that made Raijin's skin prickle. "Not all who enter the Academy succeed in becoming shinobi. You've done well."
The words felt less like praise and more like an assessment as if Raijin were being weighed and measured. Raijin remained silent, his expression neutral, though his mind raced. He very well knew why Danzo was here, it was because he was set to graduate early. But was the early graduation the only reason?
Raijin kept his composure, his posture straightening almost imperceptibly under Danzo's scrutinizing gaze. "Thank you... sir," he replied, his tone respectful and guarded against a stranger.
"I suppose you are Raijin Sarutobi," Danzo said, his voice smooth and deliberate. Raijin nodded, allowing a subtle flicker of surprise to cross his features—just enough to appear genuine but controlled.
"I am Danzo Shimura, one of the Village Elders," Danzo continued, his single eye never leaving Raijin's. "I wanted to see how the young graduates are shaping up." He paused, the silence stretching as he studied Raijin with an intensity that felt almost invasive.
Raijin maintained his façade, his expression a careful blend of curiosity and respect.
"Tell me," Danzo said, stepping closer, his presence growing more oppressive with each movement, "Do you truly understand what it means to be a shinobi?"
Raijin frowned, playing the role perfectly. "To protect our loved ones... and the village, right?" he replied.
Danzo's eyes narrowed slightly. His response was a philosophical jab. "Yes. But protection takes many forms. Some guard the village from the shadows, doing what others cannot. They remain unseen, unacknowledged—yet without them, the light cannot exist."
Raijin knew exactly what Danzo was implying—The Root, Danzo's clandestine and morally ambiguous organization, which had destroyed countless lives and continued to do so. Being recruited willingly wasn't even one of the rare aspects of the organization. It was all about eliminating the pawns he had created at his whim; for the village.
"I... don't understand." Raijin's voice was carefully measured. "But the same unseen, unacknowledged protectors who make the light exist may also be capable of evil—evil enough to stray from their purpose, letting greed cloud their minds." His response, though seemingly innocent, was laced with subtle defiance.
Danzo moved closer still, now looming before Raijin like a shadow that threatened to consume him. He let the silence stretch, the weight of his presence pressing down on Raijin like a physical force. Then, slowly, a smile spread across Danzo's face—a smile that didn't reach his eye and sent a bolt of unease down Raijin's spine.
"You have potential," Danzo said, his voice low and ominous. "The village needs shinobi who can act without hesitation, who place duty above all else—even their own existence."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Raijin held firm, maintaining his mask of naïve uncertainty, though his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He knew what Danzo was offering—or rather, what he was demanding. But Raijin had no intention of becoming another pawn in Danzo's game.
"If you wish to serve Konoha in a way that truly matters," Danzo continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "seek me out."
With those words, Danzo turned and walked away, his dark cloak rippling in the breeze like a shadow retreating into the night. Raijin watched his departure, his expression betraying nothing. Only when Danzo's presence had completely vanished did he allow himself a bitter smile. The tension in his shoulders eased ever slightly.
'Seek me out...' Raijin laughed internally, his voice barely a whisper, "Only in death."
He turned and began walking toward home, feigning nonchalance about his encounter with one of Konoha's most dangerous and highly regarded figures.
Still, beneath his composed exterior, worry gnawed at him. Being marked by Danzo on graduation day—this would become more complicated than he'd anticipated. And Raijin knew this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.
Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind, Raijin continued towards his home.
…
The sight of Elder Haruko standing before his house gave him pause. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air after Danzo's suffocating aura. She was dressed in her formal robes, and in her hands, she cradled a bundle wrapped in deep blue cloth, tied neatly with a simple black ribbon. The way she held it suggested it was something of great importance.
"Elder Haruko," Raijin greeted her, forcing a calm tone as he tried to shake off the lingering tension from his earlier encounter. The familiar sight of her grounded him, pulling him back into the present moment.
As they removed their footwear at the entrance, Raijin noticed how carefully Haruko handled the cloth-wrapped bundle, her movements deliberate and reverent. Once inside, they settled in the main hall, and Raijin's gaze kept drifting to the mysterious package.
"Clan Elder?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Haruko didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, her eyes locking with his. In that brief exchange, Raijin thought he caught a flicker of emotion—pride, perhaps, or maybe pain. Or was it understanding? He couldn't quite tell.
With deliberate care, she extended the bundle toward him, her expression unreadable. "Open it," she instructed, her voice soft but carrying a weight that made the words feel heavier than usual.
Raijin reached out, his fingers brushing against the fabric. As he carefully undid the knot and unfolded the cloth, a glint of steel emerged. It was a sword—a katana, exquisitely crafted, its hilt adorned with the intricate symbol of the Sarutobi Clan.
For a moment, Raijin was speechless, his attention wholly consumed by the weapon. He reached out, his hands closing around the hilt as he stepped forward. The weight of the sword felt perfect in his grasp, as though it had always belonged there. It was lighter than he'd expected, yet it balanced beautifully. Had it been forged specifically for him?
The blade was long and slender, its surface gleaming faintly in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Raijin stood transfixed, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of the sword. The sheer beauty and craftsmanship left him breathless.
A grin spread across Raijin's face, a smile so wide and pure it felt almost immaculate. "It's perfect," he muttered, barely able to contain his excitement. "I don't know how to thank you…"
Haruko watched him, her eyes softening with the faintest hint of pride. "You'd better thank me," she said, a playful edge to her tone. "You've earned this, Raijin. It's yours now. Take care of it, and use it well."
Raijin nodded, his gratitude evident. Unable to contain his enthusiasm, he began demonstrating a few stances and slashes, testing the sword's balance and feel. Though Haruko wasn't skilled enough in swordplay to offer technical advice, she remained silent, content to watch him revel in the moment.
She smiled softly, her heart swelling with pride. Raijin is a Genin now.
***