Chapter 85: The Academy Heats Up; A Shadow Watches Obito
It wasn't just Minato Namikaze who was pushing his limits.
Deep within the training grounds of the Azure Dragon Brotherhood, the Academy's young prodigies were grinding harder than ever, and they had recruited the ultimate "outside consultants": their parents.
Following the High Commission meeting where the profits of the Sovereign Sage Pills were distributed, Hiruzen's [Authority] metric had begun a slow, unstoppable climb. Every word he spoke—even the casual ones—was now scrutinized by the village's elite for hidden meaning.
When word got out that the Hokage had personally assigned Minato Namikaze to "mentor" the Academy students, the parents started doing the political math.
If the Leader of the Brotherhood is Asuma Sarutobi—the Hokage's own son—and he's bringing clan scrolls personally annotated by the Third... then this isn't just a club, the clan heads realized. This is the future High Command.
The parents couldn't let their children be left behind.
In the wake of the massive payouts—a million Ryo in hazard pay and death benefits—the shinobi of the Leaf were feeling a strange mix of gratitude and restless energy. A million Ryo was the payout for a high-risk S-rank mission. Receiving it as a "stipend" made the ninjas feel a deep sense of "unearned debt" to the office.
To pay that debt, they threw themselves into the village's new initiatives. Hizashi Hyūga and Hiruko were constantly seen walking through the village in their embroidered High Commissioner mantles, stopping to ask civilians if they had any grievances or if the infrastructure needed repair. They were acting as the Hokage's direct line to the people, and they were receiving standing ovations wherever they went.
The other Jonin were practically grinding their teeth in envy. How do I get one of those mantles? they wondered. The answer was obvious: align with the Hokage's reforms.
Since they couldn't get a face-to-face with Hiruzen, they did the next best thing: they coached his son's "gang."
Led by Sakumo Hatake, the elite parents began holding "Extracurricular Combat Seminars." Every clan head brought a "Signature Move" to teach. It wasn't just for the geniuses; even the average kids were benefiting from specialized drills. Mid-tier Chunin were teaching "utility tricks"—low-difficulty, high-reward skills that the Academy curriculum usually ignored.
The hype for Minato Namikaze's "Demonstration Day" reached a fever pitch. Nearly every parent in the village promised to be there to cheer on the kids. Even Hiruzen had sent word: "The Principal will be in attendance. I want to see if the next generation can make me feel old."
With the Hokage and his Assistant both attending, the "sparring session" was quickly becoming the social event of the season.
The Academy Grounds.
Obito Uchiha was currently demolishing a massive, meat-filled rice ball, his cheeks bulging like a squirrel's.
It had been prepared by the mother of one of his classmates. Since the fathers were busy teaching combat, the mothers had taken over "Nutritional Logistics," providing high-quality, protein-rich meals for the entire "Brotherhood."
Obito had put on a noticeable amount of muscle in the last few weeks.
"Man, I finally get why Kakashi didn't want to graduate," Obito said, letting out a satisfied burp. "Only an idiot would leave this place! It's like a resort."
"I'm staying here forever. When I grow up, maybe I'll just become an Academy teacher."
"Moron," Kakashi muttered, though he was eating his own gourmet bento with uncharacteristic speed.
Internally, Kakashi was relieved. The atmosphere at the Academy was light-years better than the "Genius-shaming" environment of the past. Every day brought a new master to learn from and a mountain of good food.
Compared to the prospect of facing a dozen "Minato-tier" monsters in the real world, this was indeed a sanctuary.
Sakumo Hatake was leaning against a nearby wall, watching the children train with a soft smile. He was the "Parent-on-Duty" for the morning rotation.
Though he was busy as the Anbu Vice-Commander, he found these sessions deeply therapeutic. It was better than any meditation.
Lord Hashirama said he built this village so children could grow up to drink sake together, Sakumo mused. If he could see this, he'd know Hiruzen is the true heir to his dream.
After a moment, Sakumo cleared his throat, his expression turning mock-serious. "Alright, listen up, 'Azure Dragon' elite! It's time for a formal Strategic Briefing!"
"Objective: Prevent the Yellow-Haired Monster from making landfall at the Academy!"
"Mission Goal: Do not let Minato Namikaze look cool in front of the Hokage!"
The students snapped to attention, forming disciplined rows. The "Elite Strike Team"—voted on by their peers—sat in the front. Even the kids with less talent were listening; they had been assigned to the "Pressure and Distraction" units.
Kakashi rolled his eyes at his father. A High Commissioner and Anbu legend... playing 'General' for a bunch of six-year-olds. He's clearly been spending too much time with Danzo.
But the kids loved it. It made them feel like they were part of a real military operation.
"A one-on-one duel is tactical suicide," Sakumo lectured, a playful glint in his eye. "Minato has more experience and more chakra. Fighting him individually is 'Un-Shinobi-like.' It's unfair."
"To take down a target of this grade, you must work as a Hive Mind. You hit him together. You cover each other's blind spots."
"Once you graduate, you can challenge him one-on-one. Until then, use the Brotherhood!"
Sakumo was a master of the "Soft Flex." He casually mentioned how he, Commissioner Hizashi, and Lord Orochimaru were all working together to coordinate the event's "atmosphere," ensuring Minato wouldn't back out.
Kakashi huffed, but he stood a little straighter. Having a "cool dad" was starting to have its perks.
"Yes, Uncle Sakumo!" Asuma shouted. "You're right! I'm going home to ask my dad to let us all attack at once! I don't believe for a second he can take down fifty of the Brotherhood's best at the same time!"
The children erupted into cheers. "Will the Hokage really come?!"
Sakumo laughed. With Asuma asking? Hiruzen won't just come; he'll probably bring a camera.
"Alright, back to the plan," Sakumo said, unrolling a large tactical map of the training field.
"We are dividing into functional units: Projectiles, Genjutsu, Ninjutsu, CQC, and Support."
"Minato is fast. To counter him, you must control the terrain. You stand here, here, and here..."
The atmosphere grew intense. Asuma looked like he was already visualizing the victory parade. Fifty-to-one? The odds were definitely in their favor.
Later that evening. The Uchiha Compound.
Obito hummed a tuneless song as he walked home, mentally reviewing his assignment. Sakumo had put him in the "Frontline Assault" squad. His Fire Style was still a bit erratic, but under the guidance of a Special Jonin parent, his Great Fireball was finally looking like a real jutsu. He had even managed to parry Kakashi twice during their afternoon spar.
He couldn't wait for the showdown with the "Yellow Demon."
But as he entered the clan gates, the mood shifted.
The Uchiha compound felt heavy. He passed groups of adults whose faces were masks of confusion and conflict. It wasn't the usual "Uchiha Arrogance"; it was as if they were undergoing a collective identity crisis.
What's going on? Did something happen?
Obito spotted Elder Isshin sitting on a stone bench, looking ancient and weary.
"Elder! What's wrong with everyone?" Obito asked, rushing over.
Isshin looked up, his eyes dull. "Go home, Obito. See for yourself. Just... remember. Do not let 'small favors' shake your loyalty to the clan's grander destiny."
"But—" Isshin held up a hand. "Do not be blinded. But also... do not hate the village. Not today."
Obito stared at him, confused. Don't hate the village? Is the Elder sick?
Given Isshin's cryptic tone, Obito's imagination went wild. Did a disaster hit our family? Is something wrong with Grandma?
A wave of panic surged through him. He sprinted toward his house, his heart hammering against his ribs like a war drum.
Grandma! Please be okay!
The anxiety reached a breaking point. The stress of his "Sovereign" upbringing and the fear for his only family triggered a biological cascade in his brain.
His vision suddenly sharpened. The world slowed down. Colors became more vivid, and he could see the individual fluttering of a moth's wings across the street.
Obito burst through his front door, his eyes glowing a predatory crimson. A single black tomoe spun in each iris.
"GRANDMA!"
He found his grandmother sitting at the kitchen table, looking perfectly healthy. She was smiling, her eyes fixed on the table.
"Obito? Why are you shouting, dear? And what's wrong with your eyes?"
She gestured to the table. "I sent a messenger for you, but you must have run past him. Look! The village sent a stipend! They said it's because of your parents' service and my status as a 'Valued Elder.'"
"We're rich, Obito! I can buy you those fancy goggles you wanted. And I'm going to make the biggest feast for your friends! It's been so long since someone cared about us like this. The Third Hokage... he's a good man. A truly good man."
On the table were thick stacks of high-denomination bills. More money than Obito had ever seen in his life.
Obito stood there, his Sharingan still active, staring at the cash. He felt a massive weight lift off his heart, replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated love for the village.
"Grandma... I... I was so scared," he whispered, his eyes returning to normal. "The Hokage... he really did it."
In the shadows of the roof...
A pale, leafy-headed creature watched the scene through the floorboards, its yellow eyes wide with interest.
"Oh?" a raspy, dual-toned voice whispered.
"An Uchiha who awakens his eyes through love and worry rather than hatred? And at such a young age?"
"He's perfect. We need to report this to Lord Madara immediately."
The creature sank back into the wood, vanishing as if it were never there.
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