Four years passed in the blink of an eye.
The world was unrecognizable now.
Nations, borders, daimyo authority — all gone.
In their place stood the Imperial Council of Shinobi, and Konoha had naturally become its capital.
Former countries were now simply states, and the once "hidden villages" had turned into open metropolitan centers, welcoming civilians as well as shinobi.
Infrastructure had exploded.
New trade routes, chakra-powered transport lines, engineered rivers, and reinforced highways connected every region.
Chakra Engineering became an accepted discipline — something unheard of before Akira's reforms.
Massive chakra generators dotted the landscape, turning energy into construction, irrigation, and weather influence.
New jutsu were born — not for war, but for engineering, agriculture, architecture, and climate shaping.
Elite ninjas could generate new crop templates, terraform zones, or stabilize deserts, although these techniques remained limited to high-level users.
Education evolved too.
Ninja academies expanded. Civilian universities opened for carpenters, blacksmiths, engineers, lawyers, architects, medicine — anyone who wanted skills beyond combat.
Students could learn and then walk straight into work, something no shinobi world had ever offered before.
Yet… there was a price.
Reports piled on Akira's desk over these four years:
ninja capability was dropping fast.
No wars. No missions requiring death. No rival villages. No desperation.
Power dulls without pressure.
Some feared this decline. After all, Akira himself had warned the world at the summit — Ōtsutsuki are coming.
But Akira didn't panic.
He knew the truth:
even at their peak, most ninjas would be useless against beings like Kaguya or Momoshiki. Only Naruto and Sasuke mattered then — and even they struggled.
So the decline of ordinary ninja strength?
Akira barely cared.
Let them become peaceful. Let them become craftsmen, scholars, cultivators of land. The real threats would always fall on him anyway — like they always did in history.
He sighed once, closed the report, and looked outside.
Four years of peace had softened the world.
But peace was never permanent.
---
Knock knock knock
A soft knock snapped Akira out of his thoughts.
"Enter," he said, voice returning to its usual calm authority.
The door slid open and Yamanaka Ino stepped inside. Seventeen now, she had served as his secretary for two years — poised, efficient, and familiar enough to walk in without hesitation.
They were in the Headquarters of the Imperial Council of Shinobi, deep within Akira's office — the nerve center of this new world.
Ino bowed lightly.
"Akira, your class schedule for today is active. Shall you attend personally or assign a proxy?"
Akira leaned back, thinking for a moment. Then he smiled.
"What class is it?"
"Class 5A," Ino replied with a matching smile. "Topic: Chakra Engineering—specifically Cloud Manipulation. "
Akira nodded. "I'll go."
Ino chuckled. "Class 5A… that's Hanabi's class. Time really flies. Last time I saw her she was seven — now she's graduating next year."
Akira's expression softened.
"Four years gone just like that."
Those years had not been idle. Between survey approvals, infrastructure monitoring, financial reviews, and constant communication with engineers and council heads — time slipped away. Yet he enjoyed it; shaping the world was work he never tired of.
Akira rose and motioned for Ino to follow. The two walked out of the building, moving through the polished corridors of the headquarters.
Staff members straightened at his presence.
"Good morning, Akira-sama!"
"Good morning!"
Akira returned each greeting with a brief nod and easy smile.
He was fifteen now — physically appearing older, taller, sharper. In the shinobi world, maturity arrived early. Whenever he smiled, half the female staff stiffened, cheeks red, spines tingling as if struck by a genjutsu. Akira barely registered it anymore. It happened too often to care.
Probably the side effects of Ōtsutsuki bloodline influence, he thought idly. Divine traits bleed through into presence.
He allowed the joke to amuse him as they approached their destination — the wide gates of the Imperial Shinobi Academy, the most prestigious institution in the ninja world.
It had only existed for three years, yet had already surpassed every academy in rankings and competitions. That was by design — Akira made sure academies across the world competed yearly: written tests, field trials, engineering challenges, even controlled combat when required.
Competition birthed growth.
And Akira enjoyed watching people grow.
He stepped through the academy gates — ready to teach.
---
Class 5A
Akira stepped into Class 5A.
Instantly, thirty students stood and bowed in unison.
"Good morning, Akira-sensei!"
He gave a small nod and replied, "Good morning. Sit."
The students obeyed immediately—quiet, attentive, posture straight.
Akira always noticed how different these children were compared to old Konoha's academy students… or even school students from his previous life. No pranksters, no chatter, no one trying to skip class. They didn't waste time—especially his time.
He liked it.
What he didn't know was that this seriousness existed only when he was here.
In the current ninja world, Akira wasn't just a teacher—he was a myth.
A living god of progress. Parents proudly told children, "Akira-sama is teaching you—do not waste that chance." If a student dared to misbehave, their parents would probably break their legs first and move towards the Academy dragging their kid behind them, begging forgiveness.
Even if that wasn't the case, these students wanted to be here. Given a choice between a normal instructor and a legend, anyone would pick the legend—even if the material was basic.
Akira wrote the topic on the board.
Cloud Manipulation Theory — Introductory Overview
He began.
"Cloud manipulation is the coordinated use of Wind and Water Release to shift cloud masses. It sounds simple, but you cannot just push clouds around—you must control direction and moisture."
He turned to the class.
"Moving even a Level-1 cloud requires over a hundred coordinated shinobi."
He tapped the chalk.
"Clouds are measured in degrees. Zero—largest. Three—smallest. The details are more than you need now. This is simply exposure to the field."
The students listened as if the words were precious.
Akira continued speaking—sometimes drawing parallels to his previous life.
"It's like learning calculus in high school," he thought casually. "Most students never use it later. But for the ones who do, the basics matter."
Two hours passed.
Akira closed the marker.
"That's it for today. As usual—no homework."
The class stood and bowed again.
"Sayonara, Akira-sensei!"
He nodded once and walked out, sunlight greeting him as he stepped outside.
He was in an unusually good mood today.
The reason was simple:
His Rinnegan ability was opening today.
The system had notified him earlier in the morning.
He hadn't truly needed a Rinnegan ability these past four years, but curiosity alone made the moment exciting.
Something new was about to awaken.
And Akira wanted to see it.
---