Chapter 20 – Summer Break, Orphanage, and Danzō on the Move
The school days passed in carefree rhythm, everyone following their own routines as time trickled by like a steady stream.
Before anyone realized it, July had arrived. Exam results were out, and with them came the long-awaited summer break.
Of course, this news brought joy to some and misery to others. Taichi had performed brilliantly, tying with Kakashi for first place in the class. Right behind them were Asuma and Hyūga Yuchu — both prodigies from distinguished clans who, besides their natural talent, put in significant effort behind the scenes.
They might look inattentive in class — some even napping or daydreaming — but back home, many had private tutors drilling them day and night.
Obito, however, was not among these fortunate few. He didn't even make it to the middle tier. His pitiful theory score had once again shattered expectations — barely breaking into the twenties.
And that was with Rin creating every possible opening for him during the exam. But no matter how much you helped him, Obito could still find a way to fumble.
When results were handed out, students slowly filtered out of the school.
At the gate, parents clustered to pick up their children. Those whose kids had done well chatted and laughed; others wore stony expressions, their cold presence alone enough to make you shiver — these were the ones holding back their anger until they got home, where scoldings surely awaited.
Watching the scene, Taichi couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. These children all had someone waiting for them… unlike himself.
He was about to turn and head home when he froze. Through the crowd, he spotted Nonō and Tsunade smiling at him.
Warmth flooded his chest.
He ran forward and grabbed Nonō's hand.
"Nonō-neesan, Tsunade-neesan! What are you two doing here?"
"Summer break starts today," Nonō replied with a smile. "We came to take you back to the orphanage so you can spend some time with everyone."
Taichi turned to Tsunade.
"I'm here to deliver this," she said, producing a document from her robe. "Perfect timing — now that you're on break, you can start right away."
Taichi took it and looked it over. His eyes widened — it wasn't just a referral letter to help out at the hospital as he had imagined, but a formal paid internship, signed personally by the Hokage.
It was clear Tsunade had pulled some serious strings to get this for him.
Without hesitation, Taichi bowed deeply.
"Thank you so much, Tsunade-neesan."
"Hah, think nothing of it. It was no trouble."
"In that case, why don't you come with us to the orphanage?" Taichi suggested, exchanging a glance with Nonō. "You should see how it's grown — you've had a big hand in that."
"Alright, let's go have a look."
---
The three chatted casually as they walked. By the time they reached the orphanage, the sunset had painted its brick walls in a warm orange glow. Nonō pushed open the iron gate, and a swarm of children came rushing out.
They wore clean, bright cotton clothes; their cheeks were rosy, their smiles like little lanterns lighting up the evening.
"Taichi-nii!" cried a little girl with pigtails, wiping her nose on his trouser leg. "Did you bring us something yummy today?"
"Even better," Taichi grinned, pinching her cheek. "I'll cook for you myself."
Cheers erupted.
"Yaaay! Taichi-nii is the best!"
Tsunade bent down and poked the girl's cheek. The last time she'd visited, these kids had been wearing patched-up hand-me-downs. Now the smallest girl sported a pink bow in her hair. The courtyard had a new orange tree sprouting tender leaves, the swing's ropes had been replaced with sturdy hemp, and the yard itself had been expanded.
Taichi set down a bamboo basket brimming with groceries — bought on the way. Soon he was wearing an apron crookedly tied by several eager little hands. From the doorway, Tsunade watched him chop vegetables, his knife tapping out a lively rhythm on the cutting board. Three children squatted by the stove, eyes fixed on the pot, one small hand reaching for a taste only to get gently tapped by Taichi's wooden spoon.
---
"Dinner's ready!"
Eight long tables had been pushed together into a horseshoe shape. The fragrant tomato soup simmered in the pot, while golden piles of tempura formed small mountains. Children banged their spoons on their bowls like they were playing instruments.
A chipped clay bowl appeared in front of Tsunade. A bespectacled boy placed his last chicken drumstick into it.
"This is the last one," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Taichi-nii says guests should have the best."
Under the warm glow of the oil lamps, twenty-some pairs of tiny hands came together in unison.
"Let's eat!"
Tsunade bit into the crispy tempura shrimp, the seaweed's aroma blooming on her tongue. Just months ago, these children had been living off thin porridge; now even the miso soup was dotted with soft tofu.
"Try the plum onigiri, Tsunade-sama!" Twin sisters pushed a rabbit-shaped rice ball into her hands. The warm glutinous rice carried the faint tang of pickled plum that made her eyes crinkle.
Across the table, Nonō was wiping the mouth of the smallest child. A few grains of rice clung to her deep-blue apron, like someone had scattered stars across the fabric.
After dinner, the children crowded around Tsunade, begging for ninja stories. Taichi sat cross-legged on the veranda, paring an apple, the peel curling down in one long spiral. Tsunade glanced over and saw him smiling gently at the children — and, for a heartbeat, she was pulled back to another day, returning from a mission to find Nawaki breaking his last piece of sugar pastry in half to share with a stray cat, his eyes curved into crescent moons.
"It's getting late," Taichi said, glancing at the wall clock.
As they stepped outside the orphanage gate, Tsunade looked back and spotted a small head bobbing in the upstairs window. The bespectacled boy was fogging up the glass, then drawing a crooked little heart.
On the walk back, Taichi hummed a children's song — badly off-key. Tsunade brushed a stray grain of rice off her sleeve and chuckled. The medical department's annual report might boast a "47% budget increase," but it felt far less real than that bowl of miso soup still warm with tooth marks on the rim. Perhaps this was the kind of village her grandfather had truly wanted to see. The night breeze carried the faint scent of smoke past the rooftops. She ruffled the boy's soft hair and, for the first time, began to understand why her teacher loved peeking into the crystal ball — though, of course, the women's bathhouse was another matter entirely.
"Taichi, remember to report to Director Biwako at the hospital tomorrow. I'll be heading off now."
"Got it, Tsunade-nee."
Watching her figure vanish into the distance, Taichi turned toward his personal training ground — the little riverside clearing.
Two months of summer vacation lay ahead. According to the internship certificate, he would spend each morning at Konoha Hospital, which meant his afternoons and evenings were entirely free for self-training — far more time than during school. He was sure he could push his skills to the next level.
Drawing the short blade from his back, he stilled his breath and began flowing through a full set of Hatake-style sword forms. The practice of recent weeks had borne fruit: his swordsmanship had reached Level 3, each strike more precise and fluid than before.
With every swing of the blade, his status screen chimed in his mind:
[You practice Hatake Kenjutsu. Related insights deepen!]
[Your Hatake Kenjutsu skill increases. EXP +1]
[Focused sword training — Ninja Apprentice job EXP +1]
…
[Congratulations! Ninja Apprentice Lv. 7 (0/1200)]
[+1 Attribute Point, +1 Skill Point]
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Stronger skills meant more security — and more security meant survival.
---
Meanwhile, in the shadow-drenched base of Konoha's Root Division…
The flicker of guttering candles cast warped silhouettes across the stone walls. Danzō's fingers slid slowly over the intelligence scroll, the parchment's sheen reflecting in his lone eye, cold and predatory.
"Perfect scores in theory… taijutsu beyond chūnin level…" His voice rasped like a snake over moss. "Even Hatake's sword style — mastered so quickly."
The kneeling Root operative heard the old man's mutter. Suddenly, the scroll slammed onto the heavy wooden desk with a dull thud.
"…And he's already awakened two chakra nature changes." The corner of Danzō's mouth twitched into something between a smirk and a snarl.
"A gem like this — why leave it to Hiruzen's gentle, wasteful polishing?" The candlelight flared and swayed. His gaze drifted toward the surgical table in the corner, its steel instruments gleaming coldly; countless "tools" had once lain there, each branded with a cursed seal.
"Prepare the Tongue-Cursing Seal before dawn," he ordered, the words slick with menace. "I'll show that boy myself — darkness is the finest soil in which genius grows."
In that moment, Danzō had made up his mind: he would claim this "tool" for Root.