"Today, you will face the Graduation Exams. If you pass, you'll receive this forehead protector—the symbol of a Konoha shinobi—and you will officially become a ninja of the Hidden Leaf Village."
Standing at the podium, Iruka's face was awash with emotion and reluctance. Without question, this was the class that had cost him the most blood, sweat, and tears—and the one he'd formed the deepest bonds with. Sure, there was no shortage of problem children among them, but from a teacher's perspective, that only made them more endearing.
"Come on! Iruka-sensei's still going on and on! Whatever the exam is—just bring it! Let's go!"
Arms folded, Naruto struck his usual couldn't-care-less pose, prompting Iruka to press a hand to his forehead. "Honestly... Naruto, your test scores have always been dead last in the class. I have no idea where you're getting this confidence from~ Never mind..."
Lifting his head again, Iruka looked at his students with genuine warmth. "Good luck, my students."
"And to you, Iruka-sensei—thank you for everything!"
Without needing any cue, the entire class rose and bowed to their teacher in unison. Whether it was the perpetually cool Sasuke, the chronically lazy Shikamaru, or the outwardly indifferent Hinata—every last one of them stood and bowed alongside the rest without a shred of hesitation. Iruka swiped discreetly at the corner of his eye, then straightened up again. "All right! Don't think acting sweet now is going to make me go easy on you. Steel yourselves—anyone who fails this time is not graduating. Period!"
In the Hokage's office, the Third watched this scene through his crystal ball with a deeply satisfied expression. Even as Hokage, this was still his favorite thing to witness—the moment a class of Academy students graduated.
This was the living proof that the Will of Fire was being passed from one generation to the next. The First, the Second, the Fourth—none of their efforts had been in vain. Surely a scene like this would bring them comfort too.
"Lord Hokage, the report you requested is ready."
An ANBU agent politely knocked before entering. The Third didn't look up from his crystal ball. "Ah~ Good work. So—what do the numbers show?"
"According to our calculations, the first episode of Fox Tales that aired on Konoha TV Station last night received unanimous praise. Viewership was close to one hundred percent, and many villagers are already requesting a rebroadcast today."
What the ANBU was reporting was none other than the ratings for Fox Tales' television debut the previous evening. As the only show of its kind, backed by the crew's formidable connections, the episode had been filmed and calibrated by five o'clock yesterday afternoon and aired at seven that same evening. Thanks to advance word-of-mouth from workers at the Konoha Publishing House, virtually every household with a television had tuned in on time—which made every household without one deeply envious. Word was that today's hottest items at every electronics shop in Konoha were, without question, television sets.
Those who'd watched wanted more. Those who'd missed it were clamoring for a rebroadcast. On top of today's Graduation Exams, the village was buzzing at twice its usual volume.
"I see. Seems the little white cat predicted this too. But from what I understand, the supply of electronics is currently facing severe shortages, isn't it?"
The Third's expression turned a shade more serious. "Based on your reports—those factory incidents weren't natural disasters, were they?"
"No, Lord Third. Preliminary analysis confirms deliberate sabotage. However, the perpetrators appear to be highly skilled shinobi. Very little evidence was left at the scenes."
The ANBU's report deepened the furrow in the Third's brow. He took a long pull from his pipe, then shook his head. "Never mind. You're dismissed."
As the supreme leader of a village, a Kage's responsibilities went far beyond simple protection. They encompassed every aspect of village life—and yes, that included civilian welfare and the economy. The council of elders and advisors helped, but that didn't lighten the load by much.
"So you're saying—could it be the other hidden villages trying to sabotage Konoha's Fox Tales shift to television?"
Inside a small tavern, Inoichi Yamanaka held a cup of sake with a grave expression. As Konoha shinobi, they all possessed a keen sensitivity for this kind of conspiracy.
Electronics manufacturing wasn't exactly a high-margin industry in this world. Television sets and similar devices existed, sure, but poor distribution networks and underdeveloped supply chains meant few people bothered buying them. When your entire country had a single TV station with nothing worth watching, owning a television was mostly pointless.
And now, right when Fox Tales had finally given people a reason to tune in, the factories producing the hardware had suddenly been hit by deliberate sabotage. It was impossible not to connect the dots.
Factor in the recent precedent of Fox Tales art books being maliciously destroyed in other countries, and the suspicion wrote itself.
"Exactly. We finally get a show worth watching, and right when demand for electronics should be spiking, every factory simultaneously breaks down. I don't know who's behind it, but the sheer nerve is impressive."
Choza Akimichi chewed on a skewer of dango, equally displeased. "If this isn't directed at Konoha, nobody's buying that story. Hey—why aren't you saying anything? Shikaku?"
Among the Ino-Shika-Cho trio, the highest intelligence had always belonged to Shikamaru's father, Shikaku Nara. He handled the strategic thinking for all three. But today, he was unusually quiet.
"Ah... How do I put this? You both make solid points, but... for some reason, something about this doesn't sit right with me."
Rubbing his forehead with a puzzled look, Shikaku could sense a thread of something off behind the whole affair. Inoichi and Choza's analysis was logical, and it dovetailed neatly with the earlier incidents. But he just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it.
"Yeah? Your gut's usually reliable too, but... it's not as if those factory owners are going to come asking shinobi for investigation or protection. We're not going to run out of electronics entirely, are we?"
Inoichi scratched his chin with a helpless sigh. "Honestly—Ino's been secretly practicing her lines and dance moves every day. I really don't want to see all that effort go to waste."
"I don't know who's behind the sabotage, but I think you can relax. That boss lady of the Hinata Group—there's no way she'd be stumped by something this simple. Push her hard enough and I wouldn't be surprised if Konoha ended up with its own electronics factory."
Shikaku raised his cup with an easy, confident sweep. "Come on, enough with the doom and gloom. Let's enjoy ourselves. Our kids graduate today—that's something worth celebrating."
"Oh! You're right. I wonder how far they'll go on the shinobi path compared to us~"
Fox Tales—Act Seven: Residual Pain
[No matter what it takes—please, Master, save my betrothed!]
Princess Qingji's face was flushed with raw emotion, her voice ringing with the authority of one declaring her station: [I don't care what manner of creatures those yōkai clinging to Zuorin are. In the end, they're nothing more than ghouls and monsters who have no place among the living! This era—this reality—is not theirs to touch!]
[...You make a fair point. I'll accept your commission.]
Kyoya adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose, his tone carrying the cold precision that was the hallmark of an onmyōji: [After all, sending creatures who have no business consorting with humans into the cycle of reincarnation—that is the Ootori family's sacred duty.]
Humans and yōkai were different. As different as their lifespans.
Human lives were finite, yet their souls flowed endlessly through the cycle of reincarnation.
Yōkai lives were virtually infinite, yet their souls were granted only a single existence.
After crossing the River of Forgetfulness, humans forgot everything from their previous lives. No matter how desperately a yōkai clung to the memory of a former lover, that person—reborn, remade—would never again be the one they'd known.
Between yōkai and humans, an uncrossable chasm had always existed. Anyone—human or yōkai—who tried to bridge it was...
[A hopeless fool!]
A clear, proud voice—a young man's. He landed between the onmyōji and Ahri. Overhead, the moon poured silver-white light across the earth, illuminating his silhouette.
A blazing crimson cloak that seemed to burn like living flame. Sleek silver hair that caught the moonlight in a sheen of haughty, defiant brilliance. And set in that handsome face—a pair of molten-gold eyes. The eyes of a yōkai.
Shock and a soft sigh stopped Ahri in her tracks. Her voice dropped to a murmur of quiet remorse: [...Inuyasha.]
[Hmph~! So you do remember me! Then you should know what's coming, you sneaky little thief! This time, I'm catching you for sure!]
The yōkai boy snarled with proud fury, then launched himself off the roof's curved eave like a bolt of crimson flame. Claws sharper than any human's tore through the air with a shrieking hiss: [Take this!! You lowly thief! Iron Reaver Soul Stealer!!]
Stone shattered. Debris erupted in a billowing cloud of dust. Through it, Ahri's silhouette darted backward—and as she moved, her form shifted dramatically. A long, snow-white tail unfurled from behind her, and atop her head, a pair of white fox ears emerged.
[Stop, Inuyasha... If it's you, you should understand why I've done what I've done...]
She gazed at the yōkai boy with a sigh, her eyes and voice both weighted with quiet pleading.
[Everything I've done was only to repay the man who once swore to spend his life by my side. And your father—wasn't he a yōkai who once felt the same way I do?]
[A child born of both human and yōkai. A half-demon. Inuyasha.]