The snowfall had turned Konoha into a serene, white wonderland, each flake softening the village’s edges. Masaki couldn’t help but notice how harmonious Fugaku and his young son, Itachi, seemed—more so than he remembered. As the snow blanketed the entire village, Masaki felt a sense of calm that had been rare lately. After some time spent walking in the cold, he decided to indulge himself and stepped into a cozy barbecue restaurant he frequented.

It had been a while since Masaki had treated himself to some barbecue, and his stomach rumbled with excitement at the thought. He picked a quiet corner table, wanting a peaceful spot to enjoy his meal without interruption. Although he was dining alone, he didn’t feel lonely; his older mindset let him fully savor the moment, just him and the delicious smell of grilling meat.

With ease, he ordered a few side dishes and two pounds of meat. Knowing he was growing fast, he understood the importance of fueling himself properly—a strong shinobi couldn’t afford to skip meals. As the meat sizzled on the grill, juices crackling and popping, Masaki’s mouth watered in anticipation. Watching the slices slowly turn golden, he carefully sprinkled on some seasoning, bringing out an even richer aroma that filled the air.

After a satisfying meal, Masaki reminded himself not to slack off. He was planning to apply for the graduation exam as soon as the new semester began. Confident in his abilities, he knew preparation was key. Wrapping up some grilled meat to take back to Ayame, Masaki headed toward the woods for training.

The canopy was covered in snow, and the air was thick with a biting chill, but the icy weather only motivated him further. Standing among the frosted trees, Masaki began his regimen. He practiced each skill with dedication: kunai and shuriken throwing, swordsmanship, ninjutsu, taijutsu, and even a bit of genjutsu. The cold did nothing to drain his energy; if anything, it only pushed him to work harder. With each move, he sharpened his skills, determined to overcome the limitations he had felt in his sparring with Shisui.

Taking a deep breath, Masaki activated his Sharingan, the two tomoe in his eyes gleaming red. He gripped several shurikens in one hand and sprinted up the trunk of a tree, his feet latching onto the bark with chakra. As he reached a high branch, he kicked off, leaping into the air. Twisting his body midair, he unleashed the shuriken, each one spinning toward targets he had set up around the training ground.

The metal rang out as each shuriken hit its mark. As he landed gracefully on his feet, Masaki couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. His aim had improved remarkably, and his ability to assess and hit targets with precision was reaching new heights.

Satisfied, Masaki gathered his shinobi tools and dusted off his clothes, preparing to return home.

A few days later, at the shinobi Academy, Masaki found himself in the office of the academy’s bald-headed leader alongside Shisui. They were there to apply for early graduation. The academy leader looked at the two young Uchiha with astonishment.

“So, you two want to graduate early?” he asked, eyebrows raised. The man looked as though he was questioning his own understanding of the world. “When did so many geniuses start appearing?”

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Seeing that Masaki and Shisui were serious, he sighed and promised to seek permission from his superiors. “I’ll need to ask for approval on this. Head back to class, and I’ll let you know the outcome as soon as I hear back.”

Shisui thanked him politely, and Masaki gave a respectful nod. Back in class, Iruka, one of Masaki’s first friends at the academy, noticed the two sneaking back in.

“Masaki, Shisui, where did you two disappear to?” Iruka whispered, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Masaki, not one to keep secrets from his friend, replied casually, “We just applied for early graduation.”

Iruka’s eyes grew even wider, his hands covering his mouth in shock. “What!? Already?”

Realizing he shouldn’t be too surprised, Iruka let out a sigh. “Well, I guess that’s normal for you guys. You’re both from such talented families.”

Masaki could sense a hint of sadness in Iruka’s voice. Despite his hard work, Iruka often struggled to keep up, making him envious of the talent that seemed to come so naturally to Masaki and Shisui. Masaki placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, silently acknowledging his friend’s efforts. Without another word, he and Shisui took their seats at the back.

Meanwhile, the academy leader, Kawashima, approached the Hokage’s office with a sense of urgency. Knocking on the door, he waited until he heard a familiar voice from within.

“Oh? Kawashima-san, what brings you here?”

The Third Hokage looked at the bald, middle-aged man before him with curious eyes. It was unusual for Kawashima to seek him out, especially so soon after the start of the shinobi school semester. The school should be brimming with activity, leaving little reason for Kawashima to make such a visit.

Setting down the document in his hand, the Third Hokage lifted his pipe, placing it thoughtfully between his lips as his gaze settled on Kawashima.

“Today, two children from the Uchiha clan have applied for early graduation exams,” Kawashima began.

The Hokage remained silent, waiting as Kawashima explained further.

“These two Uchihas only started school earlier this year,” Kawashima continued. “In fact, one of them missed several months last semester.”

The Third Hokage set his pipe down, exhaling a puff of smoke as his expression turned serious. “Who are these students?” he asked.

“Shisui Uchiha and Masaki Uchiha,” replied Kawashima.

The names sounded familiar. The Third Hokage remembered seeing them on the list of new enrollees earlier that year. They’d both shown early promise. Contemplating the situation, the Hokage leaned back, deep in thought. “If they’re following the standard application process for early graduation, we don’t have a reason to deny it, correct?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama,” Kawashima replied, bowing respectfully before leaving.

The Hokage’s office returned to its usual silence, broken only by the occasional sounds of his pipe. Later that afternoon, Kawashima stood before two young boys, both only six years old. Though they were mere children, he saw no trace of childishness or uncertainty in their eyes. Instead, they seemed calm and resolute.

“The graduation assessment is set for two o’clock,” Kawashima informed them. “To pass, you must last ten minutes in combat without being defeated.”

Masaki and Shisui nodded, thanked Kawashima, and left to prepare. With lunchtime approaching, they didn’t have long to wait before the afternoon challenge.

“It should be manageable, Shisui,” Masaki remarked.

Shisui tilted his head, a confident smile playing on his lips. “We’ve got this.”

When the afternoon finally arrived, the assessment began.

“Who will go first?” the examiner asked. He was a Chunin, likely in his twenties, with two other shinobis standing behind him. The Chunin seemed ordinary but held the responsibility for this crucial graduation test.

“I’ll start, sensei,” Shisui said, stepping forward confidently, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger.

“Very well. Choose one of these two Chunin as your opponent,” the examiner instructed, nodding to the two shinobi standing behind him.

Shisui pointed to one of the Chunin carrying a sword. “I choose him.”