Three years later
Three years. Just like that, they had passed. Akira couldn't tell when days blurred into months, or months into years. And now, standing on the edge of his Ninja Academy graduation, he realized life in Konoha had quietly shifted while he had been busy calculating his own growth—and occasionally, wondering if the world was plotting against him.
Some things had changed. Some things hadn't.
The Konoha hospital, for instance, had changed a lot. Not just a few extra beds or a fresh coat of paint, but a serious upgrade—more wards, better equipment, and a bigger, better-trained team of medical ninjas. Akira had noticed it the first time he rushed someone in for a minor injury and found the hallways buzzing with efficiency. It pleased him. Lives could actually be saved. And to him, saving lives wasn't just about reacting to accidents—it was about preventing them.
Which was exactly why he had written to Tsunade. A polite, well-worded letter, recommending a branch class for Medical Ninjas at the academy itself. If students could learn medical ninjutsu from the beginning, they wouldn't just be skilled fighters—they'd be lifesavers. A mission wouldn't have to end in tragedy just because no one knew how to patch up a wound quickly. Akira hadn't sugarcoated it; he simply framed it as a suggestion for the village's future.
And Tsunade had implemented it, practically without a thought. That was Tsunade—if an idea made sense, she acted. No delay, no drama. Just action.
But that wasn't all. Akira had another letter, sent around the same time, more strategic than practical: a Taijutsu class focused on the Eight Gates, reserved for students with exceptional talent in physical combat. His reasoning was simple: some abilities—raw strength, stamina, body technique mastery—couldn't be ignored. If a prodigy like Might Guy emerged in the future, the village would already have a training framework ready. Contingency planning, Akira thought with a small smirk. Always thinking ahead.
Once again, Tsunade agreed. A new class, a new branch of Taijutsu specialization. Akira allowed himself a private smile. Perhaps it was a small victory, but to him, it meant the seeds of the future had been sown. The village, quietly, was moving in the right direction.
Yes, three years had passed. Slowly. Quietly. But in that quiet, careful measures had been taken to protect lives and prepare for the unknown. And all the while, Akira's own growth had continued in parallel, silently, patiently waiting for the future to catch up.
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This afternoon, Akira wandered through Konoha with Ino. The sun hung lazily overhead, bathing the village in warm light, and highlighting the subtle changes that had crept in over the years.
Akira's friendship with Ino had grown steadily, though not romantically. They were companions in the truest sense: comfortable silences, shared laughter, occasional teasing glances. And though Akira suspected their paths might eventually diverge, he didn't dwell on it. For now, they simply enjoyed this rare free afternoon.
Graduation was just a month away. After that, freedom would become a luxury. The first year of missions would belong entirely to their teachers, with no room for personal choice. Only after a month or so could students form their own teams. Until then, moments like these—wandering, laughing, discovering new corners of Konoha—were precious.
Today, they were headed for the village's newly opened flower garden. Ino's excitement was evident in her sparkling eyes and light step, eager to explore every bloom, scent, and hidden corner.
Their stroll was abruptly interrupted. An ANBU ninja appeared, silent and shadowy, like he had dropped from the clouds. His voice, emotionless as ever, cut through the afternoon calm:
"Akira Uchiha. The Hokage requests your presence."
Akira froze. For a fraction of a second, confusion flickered over his calm expression. He had written to Tsunade many times before—but always as Chronarch, his other identity. Tsunade didn't know they were the same person. By all logic, there was no reason for this personal summons.
Possibilities ran through his mind. A mistake? Coincidence? Or perhaps he had left some trace of his other self in the threads of his communications.
"Akita, hurry up!" Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Maybe Tsunade-sama is taking you as her disciple!"
Her suggestion, though playful, wasn't so far-fetched. Akira was the top student of his class, a prodigy so talented that whispers claimed he even surpassed Kakashi at the same age. For Tsunade, taking him as a disciple wasn't unimaginable.
He nodded slightly. "The flower sanctuary can wait. Another day."
Ino smiled, nodding knowingly, and Akira followed the ANBU through the streets. Their path led to the new Hokage building—a sharp, modern structure, angular and impressive, standing out among Konoha's familiar skyline. It spoke of a village in evolution: new designs, new plans, a new Konoha quietly rising.
Security was tight but unobtrusive. Akira moved confidently, leaving Ino behind for now, guided by duty rather than curiosity.
Finally, they reached the Hokage office. Akira's hand lingered on the door for a brief moment before knocking.
"Come in," Tsunade's voice called from within.
Akira straightened, adjusted his uniform, and stepped forward. Whatever awaited him inside, he knew he wouldn't be surprised—not truly.
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