Murakami's POV
The sun was still dragging itself lazily over the horizon when I left the orphanage.
A fresh breeze swept through the village, carrying the smells of freshly baked bread and the distant cries of families beginning their days with various level of trauma-inducing incidents.
Konoha always felt like it was alive, even before most people were out of bed.
I liked that about this place.
It had grown on me, more than I ever thought it would.
Especially now.
I scratched at the back of my head, trying to shake off the warmth threatening to creep up on me.
"Tch. I'm getting soft."
Even if I told myself that, I knew the truth.
I'd been taking care of them the best way I knew how... quietly.
I reached the Academy just as the morning bell rang, slipping into the large walk way casually, like I hadn't just spent the past two years juggling business, training, and school like some overworked salaryman in a child's body.
Most of the students were already gathered, stretching or sparring lightly to shake off the early chill.
"Yo."
I turned just in time to see him, Katsuro Nara, hands stuffed into his pockets, posture so lazy you'd think he'd rolled out of bed five minutes ago.
Which, knowing him, he probably had.
We met last year, got grouped together for a team project on battlefield formations. He carried the strategy, I carried the execution, and somehow we managed to scrape a perfect score.
Since then, we just sort of... stuck.
He wasn't some kind of clan heir, and surely, you didn't think it's only the clan heirs that go to the academy, right?
Wrong!
In actual fact, clan heirs don't actually go to the academy. And by clan heir, I mean, actual clan successor and future clan head.
Those ones receive personalised training from the clan itself.
"Late night?" Katsuro drawled, eyeing the faint ink smudges still on my fingertips.
Another annoying thing I disliked about the Nara kid was his extreme attention to detail. I tucked my hands into my haori, scowling. "None of your business, Nara."
He smirked, completely unbothered by my scowl. "Speaking of Business… Must've been a busy break."
Cheeky bastard.
Before I could retort, a familiar voice cut in.
"You two going at it again?"
Aiko strolled up, hands behind her back, her pale brown hair tied into a short ponytail.
I raised an eyebrow at her. "Shouldn't you be off dazzling the fourth-years? Little miss early promotion?"
She rolled her eyes but couldn't quite hide the grin tugging at her lips.
"You're just jealous I got promoted and you didn't."
"Tch. Please. I refused promotion, remember?" I drawled in the same manner as Katsuro.
But inwardly?
I was proud of her.
Looking back to when I first met Aiko, she was just another scrappy orphan who tagged along with the others whenever I snuck out to train behind the building.
They'd copied my exercises and turned them into a game, badgered me for pointers so they could do better, and somehow, without me even realizing it, they had actually gotten better.
Not genius level like some fanfic would make their side characters, but they were decent enough. Aiko was the only one lucky to have been promoted…or unlucky as a matter of fact…depending on how you look at it.
And I hated that it made me feel... proud.
"Tch. Brats, the whole lot of them." I muttered inaudibly to myself
As we walked through the academy field that buzzed louder as the morning wore on, I caught glimpses of upperclassmen showing off their elemental ninjutsu at the far end of the field, fireballs, wind bursts, even the occasional lightning spark.
Our class wasn't there yet.
This year would be the first time they'd allow us to learn Ninjutsu.
Finally,
It was about damn time.
The village library which was also the academy library placed restrictions on the books certain people of status can read, directly defeating the purpose of it being a library, but hey, who am I to complain, right?
Katsuro stretched lazily beside me, arms raised over his head. "You think they'll let us try fireball jutsu this year?" he asked, eyes sparkling with misplaced optimism.
I snorted. "Yeah, sure. And maybe they'll let you light the entire academy on fire while you're at it."
He clicked his tongue. "Hey, I could handle it."
Right. I thought as I rolled my eyes.
Katsuro was clan-born, yes, but clan-born in the same way a house cat is technically part of the animal kingdom.
His clan had jutsu, alright… just not the kind they bothered teaching someone his age. Or someone like him.
Honestly, the anime always made it seem like every clan kid had a secret scroll under their pillow. Really messed with our expectations. In reality?
Every Nara has the potential to awaken the Shadow Release, but not every Nara awakens or ends up mastering it when awakened.
The Shadow Manipulation ability is considered a clan-inherited ninjutsu, sometimes treated like a pseudo–kekkei genkai. It isn't a bloodline limit like the Sharingan, but it is tied to their hereditary chakra nature.
Every Nara is born with chakra that naturally aligns with Yin Release, making the shadow techniques possible. So by default:
All Nara have the genetic potential for Shadow jutsu.
Not all are prodigies, and not all reach Shikaku- or Shikamaru-level mastery.
Look at the Ino–Shika–Chō trio of Naruto's era.
Bright kids. Talented. Future elites. And still, not a single flashy elemental jutsu was shown before their teen years.
So for Katsuro here to be dreaming about blasting a fireball…
Well. I wasn't shocked. Kids will always have wild imagination.
Still, I couldn't deny the curiosity nibbling at the back of my mind.
He was clan-born. Maybe he'd awaken something interesting later?
Considering the timeline, I have little to no information on the people who are alive. I only knew that Tobirama was still alive, which means Sarutobi Hiruzen and his group were still in their 20s.
Which means the Sannin were in their early childhood considering they became genins when Hiruzen was in his 30s.
This also meant that the parents of the generation that birthed the konoha 9 were not even married yet…
This went further to cement the fact that I've still got some ways to go.
Anyways, Katsuro was a smart kid with good instincts, so who knows how his chakra nature would react once it actually manifested?
I would've loved to make him my person but I'm not secure enough in my own strength to begin making moves…not to mention the fact that he's a clan kid.
He'll probably have the same ideology drilled into him since birth; clan first, clan loyalty, clan priorities.
Nothing wrong with that, but it made him unpredictable in the long run. Clan kids weren't raised to follow. They were raised to protect the interests of names older than the village itself.
It isn't until the wars to come force another ideology into them; the ideology of survival over tradition, of comrades over clan doctrine, of the village over ancestral pride.
But right now?
Right now, Katsuro was still in that delicate space where innocence and indoctrination overlap. Too young to question his clan's teachings, too old to be ignorant of them.
And that made him… volatile.
Not in a dangerous way, but in an unpredictable growth trajectory kind of way.
Kids like Katsuro were the ones who could become Leaders… or tools.
Shinobi who transcended their clans… or shinobi who died for them.
And I couldn't gamble on that.
Not yet.
I needed stability. People who were grounded, loyal to something real, not inherited dogma.
People who weren't tied to ancient politics. People whose lives could grow alongside mine, not be pulled away by family summons or clan decrees.
People like Aiko.
Like Daichi.
Like the kids at the orphanage.
People who chose me because they wanted to, not because tradition demanded it.
I glanced at Katsuro, who was now poking Aiko's cheek and arguing about how big his future fireball would be.
Before I could tease him again, Aiko smacked his hand away, "Knowing you two, the academy could be on fire, and you'd just stand there debating whether it was worth putting out."
The Nara kid yawned, stretching lazily as if he wasn't just harassing the young lady.
"I mean, yeah. Do you know how much energy I'd expend doing something one of the higher-ups could handle more quickly and with less effort? It's just efficient."
I shook my head with a smirk. "Efficient, my ass. You just don't want to move."
Aiko rolled her eyes but smirked. "And what about you, Mura-chi? You'd probably just watch the flames and mutter, 'Not my problem,' before walking away."
Murakami crossed his arms. "Please, if the academy was on fire, I'd at least take a moment to appreciate the warmth before leaving. It'd probably be rebuilt the next day."
Why bother making an effort that will bear no fruit? Of The multitude of people that saw the fire, why should I be the one to make an effort in quenching the fire
I know they would say my intention to make an effort will awaken that in others, but if they're at that level, then that is the right place to be in.
We continued exchanging banter for a while before the others continued buzzing about ninjutsu training and my mind turned elsewhere.
Only for Katsuro to yawn beside me, pulling my attention to him.
"Another year of blending into the background, huh?"
I gave him the purest smile I have practiced in front of the mirror countless times.
"You know me, Nara. I'm just here for the education."
He snorted. "Sure you are, Mr. I'm-Definitely-Not-Up-To-Anything-Shady."
Aiko giggled again.
"Whatever you're not up to," she said, her eyes narrowing, "just don't forget to teach us how to do it too."
I smirked. "Maybe if you pass this year without tripping over your own feet, I'll think about it."
As the instructor finally called us to attention, I calmly fell in with the others, arms tucked inside my haori.
The year ahead stretched out before me like a blank scroll, and I already knew what would make the most part of it.
Training.
Business.
And more secrets.
And maybe, just maybe I can see how long it would take to carve out a place for myself in this world without getting dragged into the spotlight.
One step at a time