By the riverside where he used to train, Sato lay on the grass, watching the sky and clouds as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world, with no desire to get up or look away.
"Get up."
Suddenly, a sharp voice made his body tense up. With a tired sigh, he got to his feet and looked at his tormentor—Naori Uchiha.
'Damn it, she was supposed to be a kind and patient woman. Why is this Naori-sensei so cruel?'
Sato wanted to cry, but his tears had long since dried up from the countless beatings Naori had given him.
Naori watched him silently, a faint smile on her lips, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking—and in fact, she did.
After looking into Sato's eyes and listening to how she had trained him, she quickly realized that they had never truly been master and student—not really.
Sato told Naori how he had been pulled from the academy due to his personality, and how the elders had chosen her as his mentor.
However, as he recounted his past life, Naori noticed some subtle details that revealed that, although she had taught him ninjutsu and other techniques, she had never truly taught him the way a real teacher should.
Maybe he hadn't noticed because he was still a child at the time, but from the way he described it, Naori realized that she had never genuinely cared to teach him back then—and as for why, she had no idea.
"That's enough for now," Naori said after knocking Sato down once more. "It's nearly noon. Go get our lunch."
"What? What about the bento my mom made?"
"I ate it," Naori said casually as she walked off with light steps, leaving Sato lying on the ground in shock.
'Who the hell eats a child's lunch?'
Dragging his feet with hunger and exhaustion, Sato walked toward the river and immediately threw himself into the water.
He remained calm as he sank, feeling the cold water against his skin, bringing a strange sense of comfort.
Meanwhile, Naori lit a small fire and sat down, waiting for Sato.
"How long do you plan on hiding?" Naori suddenly asked as she poked the fire—and just like that, a figure appeared nearby.
Neither of them said anything at first. After a few seconds, Naori finally turned to face the visitor—Mirai Uchiha.
"Why are you doing this?" Mirai asked.
"Doing what?"
"Why are you training my son?"
"I already told you. He's a talented boy."
"No. You don't care about that. Someone must be behind this. Was it Taka?"
"Hmph. As if that idiot could order me to do anything."
"Then—"
"I already told you. I'm interested in the boy. I have no desire to get involved in the mess your father left behind with the new generation."
"…"
"The boy has talent, and I don't want him to die young because of your arrogance. His early awakening is concerning, especially now that his Sharingan has evolved."
"What?" Mirai was shocked. 'Sato's Sharingan… evolved?'
Mirai knew her son had awakened the Sharingan—already an anomaly in the clan—but to evolve it? If other members of the clan found out—
"I know what you're thinking," Naori said, noticing Mirai's expression. "But don't worry. As my student, no one will touch him. You have my word."
Mirai remained silent. She knew Naori's reputation and understood that she was the last person who would ever harm a clan member.
"Fine. I'll trust Sato to you, Naori," Mirai said, then turned and left.
Shortly after, Sato emerged from the river holding two large fish and rushed toward Naori, eager for a meal.
---
**Two days later**
Sato, accompanied by Naori, walked toward the ninja academy with a hint of nervousness.
Normally, he would be accompanied by his mother, but she had worsened during the night and was still in bed. Sato wanted to stay with her, but she insisted that he go to school—it was his first day, after all, and he couldn't afford to miss it.
Though concerned, Sato agreed and went alone. By chance, he ran into Naori on the way, and she decided to walk with him.
"Nervous? You've been through this before, haven't you?" she asked.
"Yeah, but last time I was an arrogant, cocky brat who didn't understand the consequences of my actions or what it meant to be in this class."
"Hm."
They fell silent again. Naori observed Sato quietly before turning her gaze to the academy, which was now in view.
A place envisioned by Hashirama and Madara to teach all children, regardless of their origin—civilian or from a clan.
She knew this class would be different from the ones before. It would be made up of children who were destined to become future clan leaders—or at the very least, influential figures within their clans.
Bringing all of them together in the same environment wasn't just about creating harmony. It was about forming future alliances—and, above all, fostering loyalty to the village above their own clans.
Naori knew this, but didn't care. As founders of the village, the Uchiha couldn't act against it—unless the village acted against them first.
The other clan heads, however, were different.
Konoha was founded by the Senju and Uchiha. The others? Mere tenants. At this stage, any misstep could lead to a clan being expelled and made nomadic again—and that was the last thing they wanted.
These clans had already tasted the peace and prosperity that Konoha offered, and they would do anything to preserve it.
Of course, integration was still a slow process. Many harbored doubts. If not for the strength of Hashirama and the Senju—combined with the Uchiha—a civil war might already have broken out in the village.
"We're here," Sato said suddenly, snapping Naori out of her thoughts.
Both stared silently at the academy. Children were arriving with their parents or other relatives.
The children's excitement was obvious, but Sato and Naori could both feel the hatred in the air—directed not only at them, but at others as well. It mostly came from older members of other clans.
Naori felt a woman from the Sarutobi clan glaring at her with hatred—she had killed both her brothers.
An Akimichi man glared at a member of a smaller clan, still bitter that he had lost his eldest son to him.
A Hyuga stared fearfully at a Hatake clan member while clutching his severed arm.
'After all, hatred doesn't just disappear,' Sato sighed. But before he could brush it off and head into the school, he felt the atmosphere shift, and everyone turned in the same direction.
There, they saw a man wearing a long white robe with red details. His long black hair framed a calm face with a faint smile.
'Hashirama,' everyone immediately fell silent, staring at the man before them with reverence and fear in their eyes.
Naori did the same, bowing slightly in respect.
She then turned to see how Sato was reacting to the presence of the "God of Shinobi," but instead of fear or awe, he was staring at someone else.
A blonde girl about his age—cute, with bright brown eyes. She walked proudly, chest out, at Hashirama's side.
Naori had never married or had children, but she immediately recognized the look in Sato's eyes and couldn't help but be startled.
'This boy… is in love with Hashirama's granddaughter.'
---
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