[Author's Note: Welcome back! Thank you for the support on the previous chapters. If you are enjoying Matsuri's journey, don't forget to leave a comment and drop some Power Stones! It really helps the novel grow. Enjoy the read!]
The morning light invaded the room, but Matsuri had been awake for hours.
Standing in front of his mirror, he was making the final adjustments to his outfit for his first day at the Ninja Academy. This wasn't just another day; it was the official start of his path as a shinobi.
Unlike the casual, colorful clothes that most civilian children wore—like the bright red dress his twin sister, Sakura, had excitedly picked out—Matsuri opted for a very specific and intentional look.
He wore a dark blue long-sleeved shirt with a high collar, matching dark blue pants, and, most importantly, a dark cloth mask that perfectly covered the lower half of his face, from the bridge of his nose down to his neck.
It was comfortable, practical, and hid his expressions perfectly.
On his back, secured by a rustic leather strap, rested his newest creation: a short wooden sword.
Since he was only six years old and his family didn't have the resources or connections to forge a true chakra-conducting blade, Matsuri had taken matters into his own hands. He had spent weeks carving a perfect replica of the Hakkou no Chakura Tou—the White Light Chakra Sabre.
He had used the densest, most resilient wood he could find in the Nara clan's outer forests, sharpening the edges with meticulous precision. He knew better than anyone that, in the right hands, a well-carved piece of wood could shatter bones just as easily as steel.
Finally, he adjusted the holster strapped to his right thigh, feeling the familiar, reassuring weight of his two greatest treasures.
They were two exotic kunais, noticeably heavier and completely different from the standard issue. They featured three sharp blades and a thick handle wrapped in ancient, faded sealing tags.
These were the famous Flying Thunder God Kunais, used exclusively by the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze.
His parents, Kizashi and Mebuki, had found them amidst the rubble of a devastated battlefield while searching for survivors on the night of the Kyuubi attack. They had kept them as relics of the village's fallen hero. Recently, seeing Matsuri's relentless dedication, they passed them down to him.
Matsuri knew exactly what he was doing. His outfit wasn't just a matter of style; it was a meticulously laid trap. A bait for the right eyes.
"Matsuri, are you absolutely sure you want to go dressed like that?"
Mebuki's voice broke his concentration. She was standing at his bedroom door, a mix of maternal pride and utter confusion on her face.
"You look like a mini-Anbu," she added, sighing.
"It's comfortable, Mom. And it commands respect," Matsuri replied. His voice was slightly muffled through the fabric of the mask, but filled with an unshakeable determination.
Mebuki just smiled, shaking her head. She had long accepted that her son was anything but ordinary.
Downstairs, after a quick breakfast, Matsuri and Sakura stepped out of the house. The contrast between the twins was stark. Sakura was vibrant, energetic, and completely focused on looking pretty, while Matsuri looked like a shadow moving in the daylight.
The courtyard of the Ninja Academy was packed. Proud parents, anxious children, and future shinobis formed a sea of voices and colors.
As Matsuri walked silently beside Sakura, he unconsciously activated his Nature Breathing.
Inhale deeply. Exhale slowly.
He calmed his heartbeat and sharpened his senses. Since unlocking his chakra a month ago, his perception had drastically improved. He could feel the distinct presences around him.
Over there, a loud, blonde boy with whiskers sitting alone on a swing. A bit further away, a brooding young Uchiha leaning against a tree, surrounded by whispering girls. These were the children who would shape the future of this world.
Suddenly, the loud chatter in the courtyard ceased.
On the main platform, the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, assumed his position. Dressed in his official robes and the hat bearing the kanji for Fire, he emanated an overwhelming, suffocating presence. The aura of the "God of Shinobi."
Matsuri narrowed his eyes. He knew Hiruzen wasn't alone.
Pushing his heightened senses, he caught a subtle shift in the wind. The faint sound of leaves rustling where there was no breeze. The hidden presences on the rooftops and in the shadows of the nearby trees.
The Anbu Black Ops were there, guarding the Hokage.
As Hiruzen began his traditional speech about the Will of Fire—talking about how every dancing leaf carries the spirit of Konoha and how the youth are the kings of the future—his wise, observant eyes swept over the crowd of freshmen.
The old Sarutobi was known for never letting a single detail escape his gaze.
Mid-speech, Hiruzen's eyes paused for a fraction of a second on the Haruno family. More specifically, on the pink-haired boy standing beside the civilian parents.
The Hokage blinked, almost in disbelief.
The boy wasn't wearing standard civilian clothes. The mask covering half of his face, the relaxed yet alert posture, and... a short sword strapped to his back?
The shape of that wooden sword was unmistakable to anyone who had lived through the Second and Third Great Ninja Wars. It was an exact replica of Sakumo Hatake's blade.
And as if that wasn't enough, Hiruzen's sharp eyes noticed the peculiar handles sticking out of the boy's thigh holster: Minato's three-pronged kunais.
Without moving his lips, maintaining the posture of a wise leader giving a speech, Hiruzen murmured into his hidden radio communicator in a tone only his personal guard could catch.
"That pink-haired boy in the third row... He looks quite familiar to me," the Hokage whispered. "He seems to be actively trying to imitate you, Inu (Dog)."
On the roof of the Academy building, hidden perfectly in the shadows, an Anbu captain wearing a porcelain dog mask and spiky silver hair looked down.
Kakashi Hatake fixed his solitary visible eye on the boy.
Behind the ceramic mask, Kakashi's expression was unreadable, but a sharp pang of surprise and deep nostalgia hit him like a physical blow.
Seeing the silhouette of his father's sword, even carved in wood, and his late sensei's kunais being proudly carried by a six-year-old child was something he definitely hadn't expected to wake up to.
"He is the eldest son of the Haruno family, Hokage-sama," Kakashi replied through the internal comms, his monotonous, cold voice masking the whirlwind in his mind. "They are the civilian family who provided medical aid to me on the night of the Kyuubi attack. I spent a short time recovering in their home."
Hiruzen offered a small, knowing smile beneath his hat as he continued addressing the children. "I see. So he saw you during your recovery."
"Yes, sir. The boy was just a baby at the time, but he and his sister saw me around the village several times over the past few years. Since the parents didn't hesitate to protect a shinobi, even being civilians, I... used to check on their safety from afar from time to time," Kakashi admitted dryly. "He must have noticed my presence. Perhaps he took a liking to the style."
"Took a liking to the style..." Hiruzen murmured, finding amusement in the situation. "He is carrying a piece of wood carved exactly like the White Fang's blade, and Minato's legacy weapons. He isn't just liking the style, Kakashi. He is making a statement."
The Hokage took a brief pause to let the crowd applaud a segment of his speech before finishing his thought.
"Keep an eye on him. We might have a very interesting young man on our hands."
"Hai," the Anbu Captain replied, keeping his eye locked on Matsuri.
Down below, in the middle of the crowd, Matsuri felt the exact moment when two heavy pairs of eyes fixed entirely on him.
The pressure in the air shifted subtly. Using his enhanced sensory perception, he knew the hook had been bitten.
He hid a smug smile beneath his dark mask. The plan was flowing flawlessly.
In a world where powerful bloodlines, Dojutsus, and ancient clans dictated your worth, grabbing the attention of the right people was the greatest weapon a civilian-born ninja could have.
And now, the Supreme Commander of the village and the feared "Cold-Blooded Kakashi" knew exactly who he was.
The game has officially begun, Matsuri thought, clapping along with the rest of the children as the Hokage's speech concluded, ready to walk through the doors of the Academy.
Olá pessoal, espero que estejam gostando da jornada do Matsuri! Escrever e planejar cada capítulo exige bastante tempo, dedicação e esforço (ainda mais lidando com dores nas mãos por causa do teclado!). Se você curte o meu trabalho, acredita no potencial dessa história e quer me incentivar a continuar postando com frequência, considere me apoiar com qualquer valor. Toda ajuda faz uma diferença enorme e me motiva demais! ☕ Para apoiar (PIX[Mercado Pago] ou PayPal): [email protected] Muito obrigado por lerem, comentarem e por todo o apoio! ❤️
[End of Chapter]