At dawn, light spilled through the paper-slat windows of the Anbu operations wing, casting long shadows across the tatami floor.
Tatsuya stood by the training ground, the hum of chakra still buzzing faintly in the air from early morning drills. Mist curled along the stone paths outside, dampening the sound of footsteps and masking the scent of steel. A familiar figure approached.
Uzuki Yugao.
She moved with purpose—still wearing her flak jacket, but with a strange intensity burning in her eyes. Her long purple hair was tied back tighter than usual, her breath quick from sprinting.
"Captain Hoshino!"
Tatsuya raised an eyebrow beneath the shadow of his blindfold. "Uzuki."
She dropped to one knee without hesitation. "Please train me."
That was... unexpected.
He had anticipated a mission report. A requisition request. Even idle chatter. But not this.
Tatsuya crossed his arms. "Training? Anbu's daily regimen isn't exactly lacking."
"I know." Her voice didn't waver. "But it's not enough. I want more."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and unwavering. Not desperation—but something close. Determination forged by something personal. Maybe fear.
"I want to follow in your footsteps," she continued. "To be strong enough that I'm never left behind."
Tatsuya paused. Her sincerity wasn't fake. She was young, yes—twelve, maybe thirteen—but already carried a shinobi's burdens. He could see it in her posture, in how tightly she clenched her fists to stop her hands from trembling.
He remembered now—Uzuki had always been strong-willed. In the original timeline, she'd hovered near Kakashi for a while before settling with Moonlight Gai. But here? Kakashi was often distant, and Tatsuya himself had become the center of many whispered stories.
The battle with the Fourth Raikage. The Byakugan pickup. His rising influence within Anbu.
Strong.
Handsome.
Wasn't that the exact type she admired?
And now she was here. Willing to risk humiliation, kneeling on the floor of the Anbu compound asking for guidance.
Tatsuya let out a silent breath.
"I won't lie to you," he said at last. "It'll hurt. You'll suffer. I won't go easy on you."
"I'm not afraid," she replied instantly. "No matter the pain—if I can become stronger, it's worth it."
She bowed again, forehead pressing to the floor.
Tatsuya closed his eyes. So stubborn. And yet... it reminded him of someone.
"Fine," he said. "You'll start tomorrow morning. Four hours before first light. Be here. Don't be late."
Uzuki looked up, eyes shining. "Yes, Captain!"
She turned and sprinted off, her joy almost palpable. For a moment, it felt like the oppressive weight of war and politics had lifted.
But only for a moment.
Tatsuya sighed. Twelve years old. What am I doing...
---
Later that day, a knock at the office door broke his concentration.
Kurenai Yuhi entered, holding a slim folder in one hand. Her crimson eyes scanned the room before landing on him.
"Kazu—Tatsuya-kun," she corrected herself, tone neutral. "I just saw Yugao. She looked... weirdly happy."
"She was here," Tatsuya replied, gesturing to the folder in her hands. "This is the new intel batch. I need it sorted and filed. You know how to handle the cross-references."
Kurenai didn't move.
"You're giving me that look again," Tatsuya said without turning.
"I'm your assistant," she said dryly. "Not your secretary."
"You're Kurenai Yuhi," he said with mock-seriousness, "future elite genjutsu master of Konoha. Sorting documents is just chakra-free mental training."
She narrowed her eyes, stepped forward, and pinched his cheek.
"I swear, if you keep dumping work on me—"
Tatsuya held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. But you're good at this, and you know it."
"Ugh. Flattery from a war criminal in the making," she muttered, then took a seat at the desk, the paperwork already unfolding before her.
The room fell into a familiar quiet as she got to work.
It wasn't just delegation—Tatsuya had come to respect Kurenai's discipline. She was sharp, methodical, and far more competent than her peers gave her credit for. She wasn't flashy like Anko or brutal like Yugito from the Cloud. But she was steady.
And she never complained when things got real.
He leaned against the wall, arms folded, scanning the metal walls of the Anbu office. It had once belonged to a now-retired branch captain—a man whose name had faded with time. Tatsuya had inherited it after the Raikage battle. Along with more responsibility.
Too much responsibility, sometimes.
A small wooden box sat on the low shelf across the room. Forty custom kunai, modeled after Minato Namikaze's legendary Flying Thunder God formula.
The shopkeeper had recognized the design the moment Tatsuya placed the order.
"I owe the Yellow Flash my life," the man had said, voice low. "During the Nine Tails attack... he pulled me from the rubble. You look like him, you know. Tall. Confident. Scary."
The shopkeeper had given him a 50% discount on the spot, plus ten extra kunai.
Each blade was engraved with Tatsuya's personalized mark—a stylized "紋" (crest) etched along the edge in blackened chakra ink. Stealthy, fast, and lethal.
Tatsuya ran a finger across one of the hilts.
Flying Thunder God—level three. It's not Minato's mastery, not yet. But in this timeline, there's no one who can match it except maybe Obito or Madara.
Even if he couldn't overpower the enemy... escape was always guaranteed.
And survival, in the ninja world, often mattered more than victory.
---
That evening, just as the sun dipped behind the mountains, the quiet broke again.
A knock on the door.
Tatsuya didn't move. "Come in."
The door creaked open. Sarutobi Shinnosuke entered, face tight with tension.
"Captain Hoshino. An S-rank mission."
Tatsuya stood instantly. "What happened?"
Shinnosuke handed him a scroll marked with the Hokage's seal. "You're to summon all Jōnin-ranked members of your Anbu unit. Briefing is in thirty minutes. Room Zero."
He didn't say more.
But he didn't have to.
Tatsuya's mind worked fast. If it required a Jōnin-level response from his entire team... this wasn't internal. This was bigger than Konoha's borders.
"Understood."
Shinnosuke turned and left without another word.
Tatsuya closed the door slowly. His fingers tightened around the scroll.
This is it.
The shift. The inevitable trigger.
Something had happened.
Whether it was tied to Orochimaru's descent into darkness, or the secret movements of the Akatsuki—he didn't know yet.
But the storm had arrived.
And Konoha's shadows would move again.
---