"What kind of offer?" Ayako asked, settling back into her chair with focused attention.
"He wants me to graduate early," Hikaru replied, fidgeting with the edge of his blanket.
Ayako's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Early graduation? How early?"
"Immediately, once I'm cleared from the hospital," Hikaru said, taking a deep breath. "But that's not all. He also offered to personally teach me any technique within his power—regardless of classification level."
"Any technique within his power to teach," Hikaru said quietly, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Including the Flying Thunder God Technique."
The silence that followed was profound. Ayako stared at him with an expression that mixed disbelief and concern, her hand slowly covering her mouth.
"The Yondaime-sama's legendary jutsu?" she asked finally. "Hikaru-kun, that's... that's incredible. But also incredibly dangerous."
"I know," Hikaru replied, running his thumb along the hospital bracelet on his wrist. "The condition is that I have to reach Jōnin rank within ten years to prove I can handle it responsibly."
"And you accepted?" Ayako asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.
"I did," Hikaru confirmed, clenching his jaw slightly. "I know it was probably a trap. The Hokage was too quick to agree to something as legendary as the Flying Thunder God Technique. But..." He paused, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even knowing I was being manipulated, I couldn't bring myself to refuse. My greed for that jutsu overcame my better judgment."
"It was too good an opportunity to pass up," he added quietly.
Ayako was quiet for several moments, processing the implications. "This changes everything, doesn't it?"
"Yes," Hikaru agreed. "My academy life is over. I'll be assigned to a genin team under a Jōnin instructor."
"Are you ready for this?" Ayako asked with concern. "Real missions, real dangers?"
"I don't know," Hikaru admitted honestly. "But I have to try. This is what our parents would have wanted."
Another knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Koji-sensei entered with the careful demeanor of someone bringing news that was both celebratory and bittersweet, adjusting his chunin vest nervously.
"The paperwork has been processed," Koji said without preamble, settling into a chair. "Your early graduation is officially confirmed, effective immediately upon your medical clearance."
The announcement carried finality that made the morning's negotiation feel suddenly concrete and irreversible.
"How are my classmates handling the news?" Hikaru asked, picking at the edge of his blanket with obvious concern.
"Mixed reactions," Koji replied honestly. "Some are excited about the possibility that exceptional advancement is achievable, while others are concerned about increased expectations for their own development."
The answer highlighted exactly what Hikaru had been hoping to avoid through careful performance management.
"I've spoken with your study group members individually," Koji continued. "They're proud of your achievement, though naturally sad about the separation. They've committed to continuing their sessions despite your advancement."
The information provided relief mixed with melancholy about friendships that had enhanced his academy experience.
"Your parents would be proud," Koji said quietly. "They always believed you had exceptional potential, and this advancement proves their assessment was accurate."
"Thank you for everything, Koji-sensei," Hikaru said with gratitude. "Your teaching and guidance made this advancement possible."
As Koji-sensei prepared to leave, he paused at the doorway. "Remember that advancement is opportunity, not burden. Your parents wanted you to have choices they never had. Use this training to become the ninja you want to be, not just what others expect."
After Koji-sensei left, Ayako looked at Hikaru with serious expression. "Are you sure about this decision?"
"I'm sure," Hikaru replied. "It's scary, but it's also exciting. I'll finally be able to learn techniques that could make a real difference."
A soft knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Ayako smiled with warm amusement. "You have some very persistent visitors who refuse to leave until they confirm you're actually conscious and coherent."
Before he could respond, familiar faces appeared in the doorway with expressions that mixed relief, concern, and barely contained curiosity. Kenta practically bounced on his toes with nervous energy. The study group had clearly been maintaining their vigil throughout his recovery period.
"You scared us," Kenta said with emotional honesty as he approached the bedside. "When they carried you off after the match, we didn't know if you were seriously injured or just exhausted."
Yuki followed with her characteristic analytical approach. "The medical staff mentioned complete chakra depletion. What exactly happened during that final technique sequence?"
"I pushed too hard trying to end the match properly," Hikaru admitted. "Sometimes doing the right thing requires risks that aren't strategically optimal."
Ryōta settled into the chair that Ayako had vacated, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "That match was incredible, but watching you collapse was terrifying. The techniques you used—where did you learn to integrate basic jutsu like that?"
"Advanced study of my parents' notes," Hikaru replied carefully, scratching his temple awkwardly. "They left detailed instructions about technique integration and tactical applications."
The explanation satisfied immediate curiosity while demonstrating family legacy that his friends could understand and respect.
"We heard about the early graduation," Yuki said with analytical fascination tempered by genuine concern. "You'll be starting real ninja training while we're still working on basic academy exercises."
"I'm going to miss our study sessions," Kenta admitted. "You taught me that struggling doesn't mean failing—it means growing toward something better."
"This isn't goodbye," Ryōta declared with determination. "We'll still be friends, even if our training takes different directions. Graduation doesn't end relationships—it just changes how we maintain them."
"Monthly meetings," Yuki suggested with systematic planning. "We can share experiences, continue learning from each other, and provide support through whatever challenges we face individually."
The proposal created immediate enthusiasm among group members who had feared that advancement would necessarily mean abandonment of relationships that had become central to their academy experience.
"Promise me you'll be careful with advanced training," Kenta said with worry. "Don't let them push you too hard too fast, especially after today's exhaustion."
"Promise me you'll all continue growing at your own pace," Hikaru replied with conviction. "Success isn't about speed—it's about becoming the best version of yourself through dedicated effort."
As their conversation continued, the group naturally processed both the competition's outcome and its implications for their continued friendship.
"You know," Ryōta said with growing excitement, "this means you'll probably learn techniques we've only read about in theory classes. You could teach us things that normal academy curriculum never covers."
"If my instructors permit it," Hikaru replied with caution. "Legendary techniques probably come with confidentiality requirements that limit what can be shared."
"Even general principles would be valuable," Yuki observed. "Understanding how complex techniques work conceptually could improve our foundation training."
"The important thing is that we stay connected," Kenta said with wisdom that surprised everyone including himself. "Individual achievement only matters if you have people to share it with."
As visiting hours drew toward their conclusion, the study group began preparing for departure with the understanding that this represented transition rather than ending.
"We should have a proper celebration once you're discharged," Ryōta suggested with enthusiasm. "Something to mark the end of academy life and the beginning of whatever comes next for all of us."
"Ichiraku Ramen," Yuki said immediately, her suggestion creating unanimous agreement. "Good food, comfortable atmosphere, and the kind of casual setting that makes serious conversations possible."
"Next weekend, after I'm cleared for normal activities," Hikaru agreed with gratitude. "We can plan our monthly meetings and talk about whatever goals we want to pursue individually."
As they prepared to leave, each study group member offered final words of encouragement and support.
"Take care of yourself, Hikaru-kun," Yuki said with affection that softened her usually analytical demeanor. "We're proud of what you've achieved, but we're prouder of who you've become as our friend."
"Don't forget us when you're learning impossible techniques from legendary instructors," Kenta added with humor that masked genuine concern.
"Never," Hikaru assured them with conviction, reaching out to squeeze Yuki's hand briefly. "You're part of everything I've accomplished and everything I hope to achieve in the future."
As the study group departed with promises to visit again soon, Hikaru settled back against his hospital pillows, absently tracing patterns on the blanket. Through the hospital window, he could see the village beginning to settle into evening routines.
The market district was closing down for the day, with vendors packing up their stalls and heading home to their families. He could just make out the familiar red banner of his sister's yakitori stand in the distance, now a successful business that had grown from their desperate need into something that brought joy to the community.
Further away, the Academy building stood silhouetted against the setting sun. Students from all years would be heading home now, some excited about tomorrow's lessons, others worried about upcoming tests. The instructors would be preparing materials for the next day, evaluating progress, and making decisions about which students showed promise for advancement.
Beyond the Academy, the Hokage Tower rose prominently in the village center, its windows glowing with warm light as the village's leadership worked late into the evening. The Third Hokage would be reviewing reports, making decisions that affected thousands of lives, and planning for threats that most civilians never even knew existed.
The sight reminded Hikaru of how much larger the ninja world was beyond the Academy's walls. Hidden villages throughout the elemental nations were training their own shinobi, developing new techniques, and preparing for conflicts that could reshape the balance of power. The recent loss of Orochimaru had weakened Konoha's position, making every capable ninja more valuable to the village's survival.
Soon, he would be part of that larger world. No more practice exercises with wooden kunai and predetermined outcomes. Real missions meant real enemies, real consequences, and real dangers that could end his life if he made the wrong choice.
The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.
A gentle knock interrupted his thoughts. Ayako peered around the door with a warm smile. "The medical-nin said visiting hours are ending soon. Are you ready for dinner?"
"Yeah," Hikaru replied, managing a smile. "I'm ready."
His Academy days were over.