After breakfast, Grandfather called her to his room.
"How did the certification go?"
"All good. They'll hand out the headbands at tomorrow's graduation ceremony."
"Scores?"
Sarada silently handed Grandfather the folded exam results printout. Maximum across all stages. His face stayed grim, but his gaze warmed slightly.
"As expected from..." he began and trailed off.
Her heart fluttered joyfully. It didn't matter that Grandfather didn't finish. The important thing was that he started. Started saying what he always told Itachi and her dad: "As expected from my son." Instincts told him he and the adopted girl weren't strangers. Blood ties made themselves known. But he couldn't imagine that his own granddaughter sat before him, and his tongue wouldn't call a stranger's child his daughter. Grandfather pondered for a few seconds and repeated, this time to the end:
"As expected from my daughter."
It sounded dry and unconvincing. He'd adopted her, so now treat her accordingly. It was more courtesy: Fugaku didn't consider Sarada his daughter, though he felt a strange bond between them.
"Sarada!" Mikoto called.
Sarada looked questioningly at Grandfather.
"You can go."
She bowed slightly and ran to the kitchen.
"Mikoto-san, do you need help?"
"No-no, Shisui's waiting for you."
Sarada was surprised. They rarely saw each other, and he never called her out just to hang out. She dashed to the entryway and saw Shisui. The guy leaned on the open door frame, arms crossed over his chest.
"Yo, Sarada!"
"Shisui-san?"
"Shall we walk?"
Sarada put on her shoes and went outside with him.
"How were the finals? All good?"
"Yeah. Perfect score across the board."
"I never doubted it," Shisui grinned. "I can imagine their faces. You used the Sharingan, right?"
"Well, yeah. You weren't there, Shisui-san."
"Huh?"
"You forbid sparring with Sharingan."
"Hah, that's what I meant. Come on, tell me everything. I want to know how it went."
Sarada felt unexpectedly pleased. No one at home asked about her finals. Grandma was glad it ended well; Grandfather said, "As expected..." Itachi hadn't been home overnight for two days straight, and she wanted to share with someone...
"The first two fell to genjutsu. And the third was Michi."
Remembering his post-fight glare, Sarada darkened.
"What went wrong?"
"I think he hates me now."
"Because of the Sharingan?" Shisui guessed.
"No. I didn't use Sharingan on him."
He smiled.
"I was going to suggest that, but looks like you figured it out yourself."
"Michi talked like all my strength comes from my eyes. But Sharingan isn't everything."
"I'm glad you understand that. You're doing great, Sarada."
Shisui ruffled her hair, messing up her hairstyle.
"How's that group? They bothering you?"
"No, I haven't seen them since."
She brushed the strands from her face and tucked them behind her ears.
"Good. I'm not worried about you. One-on-one, you'd beat any of them even without dojutsu. With Sharingan, maybe all of them. But... If anything happens, please hold off on fighting them. It's important."
"Why?"
Shisui was unusually serious.
"Because you're the face of your family. You're Fugaku-san's adopted daughter. And his position as clan leader has noticeably weakened since that meeting."
Worry... That damn feeling again. Tension, unfounded and endless.
"We understand each other?"
"Yes," Sarada forced out.
More than clan meetings, Itachi hated only watch duty in the observation post. A room with screens streaming live feeds from cameras covering every corner of the Uchiha district. He felt like a thief spying on his clansmen's unsuspecting lives, thinking no one saw them. But a mission was a mission. Shisui's plan worked; Father canceled the coup, but surveillance continued. The rift hadn't gone away.
Beside Itachi sat a shinobi in a tiger mask with red patterns—Suguru, a Root member. Danzou "loaned" him to Hokage Anbu.
*An Uchiha in Anbu, and so young. It'll breed envy. Your life is in danger, Itachi, and I don't want to lose you early.*
Yes, if he "accidentally" died on a mission, Father and the others would suspect the village, making civil war inevitable. Living knowing death lurked at every turn and your death could doom the whole village was hard. So Danzou assigned Suguru to Anbu for Itachi's protection.
Or to watch me.
Itachi glanced at the tiger mask. They'd been on duty four hours without a word. Itachi clicked through the screens quickly: training his attention. Familiar faces flashed on the monitor, and he went back. Shisui and Sarada strolled down the district street. His niece animatedly told Shisui something; he listened and smiled. Then he ruffled her hair. Itachi smiled involuntarily too. Lately, missions kept him too busy; he'd neglected both her and Sasuke. Shisui knew that. Maybe that's why he checked on Sarada.
Thanks, Shisui.
Itachi switched the view. Clan street gave way to the Naka Shrine torii gates. His finger was about to hit the button for the next feed, but Itachi caught something odd: a faint movement right over the road under the red ritual gates. It vanished instantly. Any other watcher would dismiss it. Wind jiggling the camera, maybe. But Itachi had seen it before. The day Tenma died, the masked man used a teleportation technique ending exactly like that. And Sharingan through the mask slit...
You're definitely Uchiha. But who? And what are you doing in Konoha?
"You didn't even ask how certification went, Uncle," Sarada reproached.
Itachi looked at her surprised.
"But it went well."
"How do you know?"
"Obvious."
"You could at least ask out of politeness."
"What's the point if I already know the answer?" Itachi wondered.
Sarada slapped her forehead.
"Forget it."
He barely showed up home, and in those rare moments they crossed paths, he showed zero interest in her life. Itachi didn't ask about exams, how things were, if she had problems. Even Shisui paid more attention to her than her own uncle and knew more about her life. In particular, Itachi had no idea his niece had issues with local kids.
Sarada stormed out of the entryway without goodbying her uncle and headed to the academy. Today they'd divide into teams.
Sarada remembered her future team: Boruto, Mitsuki, Konohamaru-sensei...
Konohamaru-sensei was probably still a little kid. Wonder what my new past team will be like? And how will this team—which shouldn't exist at all—change the future?
The foreign smell of school corridors, patches of sunlight on the wooden floor. Her forehead was bound with the protector again, but this time on a black headband: that was the style this year. Sarada arrived in the classroom early. Others trickled in gradually—faces familiar from the exam: light-haired Moshiko, chubby Akimichi, Yoro. The last looked lost; spotting Sarada, he flinched and turned away hastily. Soon Michi arrived with his entourage. Glaring venomously at Sarada, he sat at the other end of the class.
The pudgy-cheeked examiner from before appeared and read team rosters from a sheet. Probably their homeroom teacher, like Shino-sensei in the future.
*Please not Michi. Anyone but Michi.*
Hard to believe two Uchiha would be teamed up, but Sarada worried anyway. What if the other teams were perfectly balanced, leaving her and Michi as extras to lump together? She nervously fidgeted her fingers; her palms grew damp.
"Ninth team: Toneki Yoro, Inuzuka Hodeki, and... Uchiha Sarada."
She was thrown onto a team with the boy whose hand she'd melted with genjutsu. Hearing her name on his team, the boy flinched again and glanced back warily.
Well, crap, that was unnecessary.
Sarada briefly regretted the cruel illusion on the boy but snapped out of it. He was a shinobi. Academy was over. Real missions wouldn't just be genjutsu. If he was so fragile, if he didn't learn after two tries not to meet an Uchiha's eyes, if he didn't grasp genjutsu—better he dive in early. Sarada suddenly realized she'd become like adult Dad. Ruthlessness awakened in her.
She could have drowned Yoro in any illusion. Crows swarming him, landscape shift, imaginary enemy fight. Why go overboard and terrify him to death? Simple illusions were boring. Sarada wanted more. Itachi showed her genjutsu as art. And with a willing victim for once, she eagerly tested an old idea.
Michi got teamed with Moshiko and some unfamiliar boy.
The pudgy teacher gathered his sheets, told them to wait for mentors, and left. The moment the sensei's door slid shut, one of Michi's entourage boys yelled:
"Hey, Yoro! You're lucky, though."
Sarada examined her future teammate closer. Skinny, round-faced, short gray "hedgehog" hair, shadows under his eyes: illness or sleep deprivation.
He looks scrawny.
Michi's group exploited that Sarada knew no one in class. They felt at home and started bullying the new girl who'd humiliated their friend at finals.
"You too, Hodeki!" Michi's friend continued.
"Whoa, you're just jealous," lisped the boy sitting a row higher, right behind her.
No fear in his voice. Sarada turned to him. Hodeki was Inuzuka clan; telltale combat makeup marks on his cheeks.
"If you think I'm scared of Sarada, you're dead wrong. We'll have a super strong ally. Not like you guys," he snorted and added: "Pussies."
"What'd you say?"
Michi's friend jumped up and slammed fists on two neighboring desks. Suddenly, a skinny wolf pup appeared on Hodeki's desk and growled threateningly.
"Sit," Michi growled, grabbing his shirt.
"Michi, what?"
"Sit."
The pup kept growling.
"Quiet, Taki. See, he's calmed down."
The pup whined, trying to tell his owner something, and slid off the desk. Conflict over. Classroom noise settled into steady chatter. Hodeki leaned over his desk to Sarada.
"I know you. My sister told me about you."
"Sister?"
"Yeah. She's friends with Uchiha Shisui."
"Kirei?" Sarada marveled, recalling the medic-nin girl who'd healed her arm after Danzou's torture. "You're Kirei's brother?"
"Twin. I'm not scared of you, FYI."
He offered his fist. Sarada smiled and bumped it back.
The door slid open; a tall young man in a green Konoha vest peered in. Stranger clenched a senbon between his teeth, rolling it side to side under his lower lip. Strands of hair escaped his dark blue headband.
"Ninth team," he muttered through his teeth. "Out."
The senbon shifted to the other side of his mouth. The jonin scanned the class, guessing which fresh genin were his.
"That's ours," Hodeki sighed. "First one. Aw, and I wanted to see the other sensei."
"You'll see plenty," Sarada replied. "Let's go."
The jonin-mentor led them to the nearest park. The whole team sat in a row on a bench; the jonin stood before them. He eyed them with a dull, bored gaze, like he didn't want the team and only agreed under Third Hokage torture.
"Name's Genma Shiranui; I'll be your sensei," he said dryly. "Introduce yourselves and say something about you."
Sarada and Hodeki exchanged glances.
Easier with Konohamaru-sensei—they'd known each other forever. But this stranger was aloof and indifferent.
Hodeki started, since Yoro stayed silent and Sarada signaled she wouldn't go first.
"Uh... Inuzuka Hodeki. This is my pup Taki. He's a bit grumpy. Uh... That's it."
"Life goals?"
"Uh..." Hodeki scratched his head puzzled. "Become a strong shinobi like my aunt."
"Commendable."
Genma turned to Sarada.
"Uchiha Sarada. No dog, but I have Sharingan."
"And what do you aspire to?" The sensei raised a questioning brow.
"I'll become Hokage."
Genma blinked rapidly. She'd clearly shocked him.
"And you?"
"Toneki Yoro," the boy muttered sullenly.
"Goal?"
"Not die early."
The sensei, hearing his charges' intros, was mildly dumbfounded.
*Congrats, Genma-sensei,* Sarada thought sympathetically. *Your team's got an Uchiha who wants to be Hokage, a lisping kid with a cowardly pup, and a wimpy boy who can't resist genjutsu but dreams of not dying.*
Lanterns were lighting up in the district as Shisui headed home. He knew every inch of Uchiha turf was watched; Anbu on duty tracked him right now. Itachi told him. Moreover, Itachi even explained how to move through the district without hitting cameras—but Shisui had no desire to bother hiding now. The evening was warm as milk; he just enjoyed it.
"Psst. Shisui."
He turned at the call. In the gap between neighboring houses, in the dusk, stood the familiar trio: Yashiro, Inabi, Tekka. Radicals. They'd tasked him with watching his best friend, betting he'd pick clan loyalty over friendship with Itachi.
They were wrong.
Shisui approached and stepped into their shadowy hideout, noting the spot was perfectly covered by a camera.
Idiots. Of course Konoha suspects them.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
The radicals nodded curtly at his cool greeting. All three had Sharingan active. Shisui didn't like that.
What were you discussing that emotions are overflowing?
"We have a matter. What do you think of Fugaku's decision?"
"Which?"
"About canceling our... plan."
There it was. Damn. My answer decides their trust.
"He made sound arguments."
"And you agree?"
Shisui peered intently at their faces, clan dojutsu blazing in their eyes.
"As clan leader, he acted prudently and wisely."
Yashiro snorted.
"From you, of all people, Shunshin—no surprise."
"You disagree?"
"It's not a sage's decision—it's a coward's," Inabi hissed. "It'll lead the clan to stagnation and rot."
"At least it'll save it from falling," Shisui snapped back.
Now he'd clearly picked a side. Maybe wrong, but radicals were licking wounds after Fugaku's refusal, gathering strength. Cozying up now would validate them. Can't do that.
"Don't you think the captain should retire?"
Shisui's cheek twitched nervously.
"We have the majority. I'd rethink your views if I were you," Yashiro declared, "and figure out whose side you're on, Shisui of the Body Flicker."
Sharingan flared in Shisui's eyes in response.
"Blackmailing me?" he challenged.
The men stayed silent, frowning, boring into him with hate-filled stares.
"I think I've made my position clear. You're wrong, Yashiro. Your politics will doom the Uchiha."
"You're the clan genius," Inabi scoffed. "But you'll get arrogant, Uchiha Shisui. The clan's still damn strong; not easy to destroy. We can stand up for ourselves."
Shisui pressed his lips tight.
Damn. Danzou was right.
"Never thought young Uchiha Shisui would show cowardice."
"It's not cowardice—it's common sense! Why can't you see?"
"So you're not with us?"
"Never were. You're deluded, and I hope you see it before it's too late."
"Ditto."
Clenching his fists, Shisui stepped from the shadow gap. In the dark, three pairs of red eyes glowed. Shisui long suspected radicals hated Fugaku's decision, but now they were dead set on ousting him.
This is bad. Very, very bad.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan