In a dimly lit room somewhere in Konoha Village.
This was Kabuto Yakushi's hideout. The air carried a pungent mix of disinfectant and dust.
He adjusted the round glasses on the bridge of his nose. The lenses reflected the faint candlelight from the scroll.
As one of Orochimaru-sama's deepest planted pieces in Konoha, gathering and verifying intelligence was his primary duty.
His pen flew across the paper, recording the latest noteworthy movements within the village.
"The Uchiha clan has significantly reduced activity recently. Elite clan ninjas are returning in batches, adopting a defensive contraction posture. Reason unknown."
"The Ino-Shika-Cho trio has partnered with a jonin to open 'Konoha Premier Pot.' Business is booming, and ties are growing closer. The jonin's name is..."
Kabuto's pen paused. He pressed down heavily on that name.
Sora Akashi.
This name had been appearing in Konoha's intelligence circles with abnormal frequency lately.
He started a new page dedicated entirely to compiling all information about this boy.
"Sora Akashi, war orphan, current jonin instructor of Team 7, former subordinate of Kakashi Hatake."
"Rumored to have been taken as a direct disciple by one of the Legendary Sannin, Jiraiya-sama."
"Village rumors are wildly exaggerated, calling him a 'once-in-a-century sage arts genius' with talent even surpassing the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze."
"Additional rumors claim he not only masters all five elemental natures but also possesses the Fourth's signature techniques like Rasengan, earning him the playful nickname 'Little Fourth' from gossipers."
Kabuto wrote this far, the corner of his mouth curling into a barely noticeable cold smile.
Overpraise.
Such a clumsy yet surprisingly effective tactic.
He finished organizing all the intelligence, carefully rolled it into a specially prepared scroll, and sealed it with wax.
Then, with a single-hand seal, he gently pressed his palm to the floor.
"Summoning Technique."
A small, pitch-black scaled poisonous snake slithered out from the array beneath his hand, flicking its tongue, its cold vertical pupils fixed on Kabuto.
Kabuto tied the scroll to the snake.
"Go. Deliver this to Orochimaru-sama."
The little snake nodded as if it possessed intelligence, then the next second melted into the ground and vanished without a trace.
The basement returned to dead silence once more.
...
Land of Rice Fields, Otogakure.
Or rather—Orochimaru's underground lair.
The light here was eternally dim, the air forever thick with a sickly sweet blend of blood, chemicals, and earth.
Orochimaru reclined lazily on a stone throne, his pale face carrying a trace of indolence.
A small black snake slid quietly from the shadows at his feet and respectfully presented a scroll.
He extended pale, slender fingers, unrolled the scroll, and leisurely read the latest intelligence from Konoha.
When his golden snake pupils fell on the dedicated report about "Sora Akashi," a flicker of amusement passed through them.
Jiraiya's disciple?
Heh.
In Orochimaru's mind surfaced the image of his white-haired, boisterous, foolish teammate.
That idiot's greatest stroke of luck in life was stumbling upon a raw gem like Minato Namikaze.
What now?
Did heaven drop another pie for him?
Was he going to raise another Hokage?
As for those rumors of "surpassing the Fourth" and "sage arts genius," they struck him as utterly laughable.
This was nothing more than that foolish teacher's clumsy attempt to hype up his new disciple.
Thinking he could pave the boy's future path with this kind of nonsense?
Naive.
Orochimaru's tongue flicked lightly across his lips like a snake's.
A so-called genius built on nothing but hot air wasn't worth much of his attention.
He casually tossed the report on Sora Akashi to the ground like useless scrap paper.
His gaze fell on another document detailing the arrangements for the Chunin Exams.
The plan had reached its most critical phase.
No one could—or would—stop it.
"Konoha Crush Plan..."
Orochimaru murmured softly, excitement and cruelty glittering in his golden snake eyes.
Chunin Exams, first stage: written test.
Inside the exam hall, the atmosphere was thick and oppressive, like congealed glue.
Sora Akashi stood idly behind the one-way glass in the monitoring room, flanked by Iruka and several other supervising jonin.
His gaze precisely locked onto his three students.
Sasuke wore his usual cool expression, his pen flying across the scroll—clearly at ease.
The Uchiha genes were undeniably strong when it came to academics.
Karin looked a bit nervous, but she occasionally closed her eyes, seemingly using some sensory ability to "eavesdrop" on the top students' answers. Her little tricks were constant, yet she always managed to avoid trouble.
Sora mentally gave her approval. Cheating by leveraging your own advantages was also a form of strength.
And then there was Naruto.
Uzumaki Naruto sat ramrod straight, expression solemn, eyes resolute.
He gripped his pen so tightly it seemed ready to snap.
The scroll before him was pristine, spotless.
Not a single word written.
Sora nearly burst out laughing.
As expected of you, Naruto.
An hour later, Naruto turned in a blank sheet.
But with his final passionate speech about "comrades" and "belief," he somehow managed to convince the chief examiner Ibiki. The entire group passed.
In his mind, Sora silently graded his own teaching results.
Sasuke and Karin passed on raw ability; Naruto maxed out his talk-no-jutsu skill.
All-around development in morals, intellect, physique, aesthetics, and labor.
I, Sora Akashi, am indeed Konoha's number-one gold-medal teacher.
He was already starting to ponder what position he should arrange for Senior Kakashi once he became Hokage.
...
Second stage: Forest of Death.
For the current Team 7, this place was more like a backyard.
Dozens of Naruto's shadow clones cleared the way; Great Ball Rasengan swept everything.
Sasuke's Chidori Current escorted them—wherever the lightning passed, not a blade of grass remained.
Karin handled scouting, detection, and rear-line healing, occasionally lashing out with Adamantine Sealing Chains to bind would-be ambushers into dumplings.
They tore through the forest with overwhelming dominance, obtaining both the "Heaven" and "Earth" scrolls in just half a day.
When they emerged at the final tower radiating an aura of "we're ridiculously strong," Anko Mitarashi—the proctor waiting to receive them—dropped the dango from her mouth in shock.
The following preliminary matches turned into Team 7's personal showcase.
Naruto vs. Kiba Inuzuka: one enhanced Great Ball Rasengan sent both Akamaru and his master flying out of bounds.
Sasuke vs. the chakra-absorbing Yoroi Akadō: pure physical speed ensured the opponent couldn't even touch his clothes. Easy victory.
Karin's opponent was a random Oto genin.
The girl never once used Adamantine Sealing Chains. Relying solely on outstanding taijutsu, she struck with surgical precision at joints and nerve nodes. Within three minutes, her opponent was completely paralyzed and incapacitated.
The entire arena fell into dead silence.
Everyone stared at the supervising jonin standing at the sidelines with an expression of "just routine, everyone sit down"—Sora Akashi—as if looking at a monster.
Senior Kakashi, did you see that?
This is the true value of a top-tier teacher.
...
One month remained until the finals.
That evening, Sora was supervising his three disciples—who had already entered full grind mode—at Training Ground 3.
A familiar, somewhat slovenly figure dropped from the sky, landing heavily on the grass beside him.
"Yo, Sora, my good disciple—did you miss your teacher?"
Jiraiya landed with his wild white hair, wearing his signature bold grin.
"Sensei, if you'd come back any later, I might've ended up representing Konoha at the Five Kage Summit," Sora drawled lazily.
Jiraiya's mouth twitched, pretending not to hear the boy's teasing.
His gaze passed over Sora and settled on the blond boy in the distance, who was practicing Rasengan alongside dozens of shadow clones.
In the sunset, that young yet stubborn face slowly overlapped with a certain memory.
Jiraiya's expression grew complex.
Nostalgia, guilt, and a faint, barely noticeable relief.
"So that's... Minato's son?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah." Sora followed his gaze. "Uzumaki Naruto—a noisy but hardworking idiot."
"You've taught him well," Jiraiya said sincerely.
He could feel that while Naruto's chakra was immense, it wasn't violent—clearly properly guided.
"Of course. Don't look at who his teacher is." Sora shamelessly took all the credit while slipping in a compliment to his own master.
Jiraiya laughed heartily, his mood noticeably improved.
He brought up another matter: "I heard about those rumors in the village about you—they're getting pretty convincing. 'Little Fourth,' 'sage arts genius'... Kid, you're even better at self-promotion than I was back in the day."
Sora spread his hands innocently. "Sensei, don't slander me. I'm just an ordinary jonin. Those are just affectionate nicknames from the people—what can I do?"
Jiraiya looked at that face practically screaming "I'm the mastermind behind it all" and helplessly shook his head.
He stood up and dusted himself off.
"Alright, I just came to check in. Remember—the future of Konoha rests on you young people."
He looked deeply at Naruto in the distance, then at Sora beside him.
"Don't disappoint me."
With that, he vanished in a flicker—coming and going in a hurry.
Sora watched Jiraiya's disappearing figure, his smile gradually fading.
He knew this legendary Sannin had, in his own way, cast a vote of support.
And now, everything was in place.
All that remained was waiting for the venomous snake lurking in the shadows to draw back the curtain on this grand festival.