Inside the Hokage's office.
Sarutobi Hiruzen regarded the boy now wearing a shinobi's forehead protector, his smile warm and grandfatherly. "Makoto, starting today, you're an official ninja of Konohagakure. Standard procedure would have you assigned to a three-man squad with two other genin under a jonin instructor for missions. What do you think about..."
"Sarutobi-sensei, I don't think that's necessary." Makoto cut in without hesitation.
"Oh? Why not?" The old man's eyebrows rose with genuine curiosity.
"Under normal circumstances, a fresh genin like me would start with D-rank missions. But you know my family's situation, sensei. I have a lot of mouths to feed. I'd rather get stronger as fast as possible so I can take on higher-ranked missions and earn enough to support everyone. And besides..."
"Besides what?"
Makoto's expression turned solemn. "I want to grow strong enough to one day serve as young master Konohamaru's right hand, and help him become the Fifth Hokage."
Sarutobi Hiruzen's eyes lit up like lanterns.
Coming from anyone else, he might have suspected flattery.
But after reading that essay of Makoto's, he harbored no such doubts.
And really, how much scheming could an eight-year-old possibly be capable of?
He chuckled and waved a hand. "Makoto, I'm glad you feel that way. But you know, you could aim for the title of Hokage yourself."
Makoto shook his head. "You don't have to console me, sensei. I know my limits. Without a Kekkei Genkai, the best I can hope for is elite jonin. I wouldn't dare covet the Hokage's seat. All I want is to one day stand beside Konohamaru and do my part for Konoha."
This answer struck Sarutobi Hiruzen right in the heart.
He studied his new disciple, and the more he looked, the more he liked what he saw.
Talented. No powerful backers. No hunger for authority. And loyal to the bone.
The boy was the finest gift the heavens could have sent him in his twilight years.
"Heh, it's far too early to worry about all that. Your sensai has high hopes for you." Sarutobi Hiruzen's mood soared. He made a sweeping gesture. "In that case, forget about missions for now. Head to the Sarutobi clan compound's scroll vault and pick out whatever jutsu you think suits you. I'll have the finance department send five million ryo your way."
Five million ryo. Roughly equivalent to two full years of a jonin's salary.
Clearly, Makoto's flattery had landed with surgical precision, because the old man was hemorrhaging money.
The last disciple who'd received this kind of lavish treatment was probably Orochimaru.
"Yes! Thank you, sensei!"
Makoto called out with enthusiasm and turned to leave.
The instant his back was to the old man, the corner of his mouth curled upward.
No wonder the corporate world was crawling with bootlickers. A little lip service, and the returns were staggering.
Sarutobi Hiruzen had called ahead, so Makoto encountered no obstacles along the way.
The Sarutobi clansmen knew the boy was their patriarch's newest disciple and treated him accordingly, escorting him to the scroll vault with all due courtesy.
As the current Hokage and an all-element shinobi, Sarutobi Hiruzen naturally possessed a vast collection of jutsu scrolls.
Makoto focused on scrolls matching his own affinities: fire, wind, and water.
He was careful not to take too many. Moderation was key. The last thing he needed was to come across as greedy.
Mid-search, his gaze snagged on a particular scroll. Compared to the others, this one was enormous.
The chunin escort noticed where he was looking and spoke up. "Makoto, that's our clan's summoning scroll. It allows you to form a contract with the Monkey tribe. Interested?"
Since Makoto was already Sarutobi Hiruzen's disciple, inheriting his summoning beast would be perfectly natural.
Makoto blinked.
Right. Sarutobi Hiruzen's summon was a monkey that could transform into a staff: the Monkey King, Enma.
After a moment's thought, he smiled and shook his head. "No, thank you. I've already picked enough scrolls to keep me busy. Better not bite off more than I can chew."
The chunin nodded approvingly. Steady and grounded. Worthy of Lord Hokage's newest disciple.
What was actually going through Makoto's head:
Enma's whole thing is turning into a stick. That's it. That's the highlight reel.
Compared to the Sannin's summons? Not even close.
Still...
The Summoning Technique itself might be worth looking into.
After all, each of the Sannin's summoning beasts was linked to one of the three great sage lands, and those were the places where you could learn Sage Mode.
Jutsu selected, Makoto headed to Training Ground Three on the village outskirts to begin his practice.
As a side note, this was the same field where Naruto's future Team 7 would one day play their infamous bell-snatching game.
Meanwhile, Sarutobi Hiruzen took in Makoto's every move through his crystal ball.
The old Hokage nodded in satisfaction.
A genius, through and through.
Makoto had claimed his ceiling was elite jonin, but Sarutobi Hiruzen didn't buy it for a second.
Orochimaru, Jiraiya, Minato Namikaze... none of them had come from prestigious backgrounds either, and they'd all reached Kage-level.
He was confident Makoto would climb just as high.
The thought sent him reaching into his desk drawer to pull out Makoto's essay yet again, reading it over for the hundredth time.
He was already planning to have a master calligrapher copy it down to frame on his wall.
Oh, and it was going in the curriculum, too.
Twenty more years on the job. Then I'll compare how Konohamaru and Makoto have each grown and decide who becomes the Fifth Hokage.
He leaned back in his chair, thoroughly pleased with himself.
Perfection.
Evening. Training complete.
Makoto arrived at the Yukinoshita family's small house.
Having grown accustomed to the family's lavish estate back in the real world, the shabby little dwelling in front of him felt jarring. The gap was... considerable.
He knocked.
The door swung open to reveal Mrs. Yukinoshita wearing her usual gracious smile. "Makoto! Come in, come in."
He'd barely stepped into the living room before his eyes landed on the dining table, which was packed edge to edge with dishes, so many the table itself seemed ready to buckle.
This was clearly beyond anything the Yukinoshitas could afford in their current circumstances. Mrs. Yukinoshita had spared no expense for tonight.
The head of the Yukinoshita household and both daughters were already waiting.
"Nishikado."
The family patriarch stood, greeting him with an awkward, ingratiating smile, the kind of expression a man wears when addressing someone far above his station.
"Nishikado, I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to speak since arriving in this world."
Haruno offered a smile that mirrored her father's, though where his came off as fawning, hers felt more natural, more polished.
And then there was Yukinoshita Yukino.
Her lips twitched several times. She stayed silent, clearly at a complete loss for what to say.
"Yukino, greet our guest." Mrs. Yukinoshita's voice carried an edge of impatience.
Yukino bit her lip. Still nothing.
"What is wrong with you? Have you forgotten every shred of Yukinoshita manners?"
Mrs. Yukinoshita raised her hand, ready to slap her youngest daughter across the face.
But Makoto caught her arm.
"Don't force her. I don't take a child's attitude personally."
The words landed, and Yukino felt worse than if he'd insulted her.
Honestly, she would have preferred it if Makoto had acted like some arrogant, obnoxious rich kid, looking down his nose at her and barking orders.
That, at least, she could have processed.
But this? This casual dismissal, this complete lack of acknowledgment that she even registered... that was what stung.
Mrs. Yukinoshita, meanwhile, felt the warmth of Makoto's hand on her wrist.
Something flickered behind her eyes. The impulse to discipline her daughter evaporated.
She pressed her lips together and sat back down.