Chronicles of the Yondaime
Chapter 1
Namikaze
There was an air of excitement surrounding the academy, and the graduation process that would be happening later that day could only claim a small part in the cause of this. Even the recent festivals celebrating the coronation of the Sandaime paled in comparison to the rumour that had spread through the shinobi settlement like wild fire. It could be heard whispered all over the sizable village; Jiraiya and Orochimaru, the world famous Sannin of Toad and Snake, would finally be taking on Genin cells of their own. And while naught had been said of Tsunade, the third of the Legendary Trio, this was enough to send the Village Hidden in the Leaves into an uproar of sorts.
Hideyoshi flicked through his administration papers with practiced ease, absently sliding open the classroom door as he glanced over some last minute adjustments. The soft murmuring of children’s voices greeted his ears, quickly dying down as he crossed the space to his desk. A quick glance from his coal orbs was all it took to tell him all were in attendance. Not surprising, what with some of the tales he had heard on the short walk from his apartment to the academy. Any adult with a child in this class would doubtless be hoping for their heir to be placed under the two Sannin, if the general gossip was to be believed.
“Good morning, class.”
“Good morning, Hideyoshi-sensei.”
The Chuunin nodded vaguely, closing the folder and placing it on his desk, “Today we will be doing some basic history revision, before moving onto the exam later on this afternoon.”
A few groans greeted his announcement, followed by a loud shout from the back row, “You’ve got to be kidding me. We’ve been doing that history crap ever since we got here. I mean, we would be better off practicing for the exam.”
Several noises of agreement followed the outburst, many of the shinobi in training turning questioningly toward their teacher. Hideyoshi cleared his throat before turning to look at the offender sternly, “Anko, you know as well as everyone else here that history can often give us insights into the minds and strategies of our opponents. It is an important part of a ninja’s education, almost as important as the combat itself.” The young Mitarashi scowled, but did not reply.
Hideyoshi continued, “As for your exam, well, there would be little point in administering it if I gave you a chance to practice only several hours before it actually commenced. If you truly wanted to excel as shinobi of Konoha, I would have thought that you would have practiced in your own time.” Several mutters broke out, but the Chuunin silenced them with a look, “And now, if you will all turn to the board.”
Picking up a long indicator, the teacher pointed at a map of the known ninja world, “Now, who can tell me the purpose of the shinobi villages?”
Several hands shot into the air straight away, followed more slowly by others. Hideyoshi looked around for a moment, at last selecting a young Uchiha, “Yes, Katashi?”
“The shinobi villages are a symbol of a country’s military power,” the young boy answered, “And therefore are a show of that land’s strength in the world. They are also a source of manpower for a variety of tasks, which can include anything from simplistic, low difficulty chores, to life threatening tasks such as war and assassinations. Through the completion of these tasks, the villages earn an appropriate income, thereby allowing them to maintain their economies.”
In the back row, Anko scoffed, “I could have told you that.”
“Be quiet, Anko,” the Chuunin said severely, and glanced apologetically at the boy, “That was good, Katashi. Alright, who can tell me who founded this wonderful village we live in?” To his surprise, it was the young Mitarashi who raised her hand. Usually, Anko wouldn’t hesitate to call out an answer if she had even the slightest inkling as to what it was.
“Anko?”
“Hashirama, Head of the Senju Clan, and Madara, Head of the Uchiha Clan, founded the Village Hidden in the Leaves after coming to a truce in the conflict that had been going on between the two groups for years. As such, Senju became the Shodai, the first Hokage and leader of Konoha. A monument was built in memory of their work at the Valley of the End.”
“Good,” Hideyoshi said approvingly. In spite of her unruliness and boldness, there was no doubting the talents of Anko Mitarashi both in and out of the classroom. Her skills with kunai and shuriken were something to be marveled at, as was her undoubted abilities with ninjutsu. Even though the Chuunin had his misgivings about her behaviour, he was certain she would grow into an amazing kunoichi, “Very good, but there was one mistake. Would anyone like to help her out?”
A few hands rose, and the teacher looked around, settling on a student in the middle row, “You, Namikaze.”
The boy nodded, his dawn eyes unwavering as he returned the stare of his teacher, “A few years after the formation of Konoha, Madara Uchiha was forced to leave the Hidden Leaf. Nobody really knows why, but the grounds for his departure have been speculated from a planned treason against Konoha, to a story that he stole his brother’s eyes. In any case, Madara left the Hidden Leaf in disgrace, and the Shodai tried to retrieve him. They fought at the Valley of the End, where Senju eventually achieved victory. Thus, the monument there was erected in their honour.”
The instructor nodded, eyeing the young student with professional interest. Minato Namikaze. Like Anko, he was one of those talented students that came from a nondescript family in the village. Despite this, Minato had worked hard during his time at the academy, even outdoing the skilled Mitarashi. All of his pursuits under the academy’s tutelage had yielded positive results, and Hideyoshi was certain that the Namikaze was headed towards a bright future.
Looking back to the rest of his class, the teacher continued, “So, does anyone know the cause of the uprising in Kumogakure ten years ago?”
XXXX
The shinobi-in-training all displayed unrestrained relief as they poured out onto the lawns of the academy, instantly separating into their own segregated groups. Anko and a couple of the other girls headed towards the shade of the tree at the back of the open area, while most of the others spread out in the sunlight, many leaning back to enjoy the peace of the day. Even though the lesson had been relatively uneventful, the tension in the young students was unmistakable. And with the graduation exam on that afternoon, it wasn’t difficult to understand their anxiety.
Minato yawned as he stepped out into the bright daylight, blinking once or twice as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. He would be the first to admit that history was his least favourite activity at the ninja school, yet he also knew the value of the accursedly boring lectures. And if listening to his teacher talk about people who lived and died decades ago would help him become a great shinobi, he was more than willing to put up with it.
“Hey, Minato! I thought I told you to stop showing off in class so much.”
The Namikaze grinned as he caught sight of his friend leaning against the walls of the academy, “You would be showing off too, Inuzuka, if you could only be bothered to put in the work.”
“Like I would be bothered studying something as useless as that junk,” the lanky Tsume snorted, “That’s meant to be Koga’s field. I think you’re wasting your time with your head in all those books; you could use it so much better by learning some really cool ninjutsu, or working up on your taijutsu.”
“I’m already better than you are in both of those fields,” the Namikaze pointed out.
Tsume snorted, “A bit of an arrogant fellow aren’t you? I think Kuromaru and I could take you down if we wanted to. It’s never good to get too overconfident, Namikaze.”
“With you, I don’t need to worry about being cocky,” Minato chuckled, “I know for a fact that I would be able to beat you, hands down, with my eyes closed. After all, Kuromaru would probably be at knee height by now, right?”
His fellow classmate scowled, obviously displeased by her friend’s victory. Her gaze wandered past his shoulder for a moment, and then nodded in the direction of the entrance, “I think Masaru has been sucking up to Hideyoshi-sensei again; here he comes now.”
Raising a single blonde eyebrow, the Namikaze glanced absently over his shoulder. Sure enough, Masaru was standing alone in the doorway, a disgruntled expression visible on the young Koga’s pale features. He was not exactly what some would call the picture of good health, constantly presenting a sickly visage, and a skinny frame. From his first day in the academy, it had been apparent that his skills with the pen far outweighed his skills with a weapon. In stark contrast of this, however, the budding ninja had a ferocious temper, and had a strong distaste for those who chose to mock his abilities.
“Hey,” Masaru grunted, joining them by the wall.
“Have you been trying to get Hideyoshi-sensei on your side again?” Minato inquired, frowning at the older boy’s nod, “You know you’re not going to get anywhere if you try and manipulate others into doing what you want all the time.”
“You could have told me that an hour ago,” the Koga growled, his dissatisfaction obvious as he glared off into the distance.
Tsume snickered, “Let me guess, Hideyoshi ignored you again. I warned you not to try going after him anymore. You got into enough trouble the last time you tried to convince him to give you special treatment.”
“It was worse today,” Masaru muttered, “He threatened to fail me if I tried to influence my final result in any way apart from the standard procedures. The old fool even put a penalty on my exam.”
The Namikaze shook his head, “It serves you right for trying to weasel out of the work, Masaru.”
“Thanks for the support, Minato,” the boy in question said sarcastically, sending a glare at his longtime friend. But infuriatingly, the younger student merely clapped him on the back, giving him a cheerful grin.
“Don’t mention it.”
“I’ll remember not to.”
Minato rolled his eyes at his friend's childish reply, instead turning to Tsume, “Are you ready for the exam this afternoon? From what I’ve heard about the instructors, they mark quite harshly.”
Tsume groaned at the mention of the graduation test, “Am I prepared? Father kept me up until midnight, just to make sure I had the Henge down right. He made me practice that damn thing twenty times. Twenty times! Then he made me Kawarimi with almost everything in the entire clan house. You would think that I’d been learning nothing in my whole time here, from the way he worked me.” She sighed, “Am I ready? Yeah, and a hell of a lot more on top of that.”
Minato chuckled softly, earning a dark look from the Inuzuka. Hurriedly stifling the urge to laugh, he turned to his pale friend, “How about you, Masaru?”
Unsurprisingly, the young Koga scowled, “I have a decent grip on the Henge, and Kawarimi, and I have a passable Bunshin, but my taijutsu and weapons practice are hardly what you would call acceptable Genin material. If I’m going to pass this thing, I’m going to have to be able to impress them with the basics of ninjutsu.”
The Namikaze grinned, “Well, your skill in that field is pretty basic anyway.”
The other two cast him a withering look, and were just about to speak when a loud voice rang out from the door, “All students are to return to their classes, with examinees moving to the presentation hall.”
Minato’s roguish demeanor faded instantly, replaced by a serious expression, “Good luck, to both of you.”
Sensing the change in their friend, Tsume and Masaru simply nodded, “You too.”
And with that, the three companions joined the throng of Genin hopefuls that were rushing back inside.
XXXX
“Everyone, move into the designated order.”
Hideyoshi’s voice rang out through the high-roofed chamber, echoing over the crowd of students gathered there. For a moment, nobody moved. But a sharp look for their teacher sent the young ninja-in-training scurrying, confusion breaking out as the children struggled to find their correct places. A small smile played on Minato’s lips as he found his place in the line, directly behind the boisterous Mitarashi.
“What are you looking at, Namikaze?” the dark haired girl said scathingly, catching his glance.
Minato quickly shook his head, a silent apology evident in the action. As he and Anko were always vying for the top place in the class, a rivalry of sorts had quickly developed between the two Genin. One that was never spoken aloud, and yet everyone knew about. The two were often paired in sparring exercises by their observant Chuunin instructors, and over the years, a grudging friendship had grown between the two. Neither of them would admit it, but each held the other in high regards.
Anko snorted as the first student stepped through the entrance to the exam room, “You would think that they would be a bit more selective about the people who could even take this exam.”
“With the increasing hostilities between Konoha and Iwa, the village council can’t be as picky as they used to,” Minato reminded her, “Besides, the more shinobi and kunoichi that we have, the less likely it is that we will be attacked at all.”
“If the exams are this easy, I don’t think the Hidden Leaf will have to worry about lack of numbers,” the Mitarashi muttered, watching as the boy who had entered several minutes ago emerged from the examination room, a Konoha Hitai-ate clutched proudly in his fist, “The only thing they have to be concerned with is the quality.”
Finding no reply to that, the Namikaze merely watched as the long line of students slowly dwindled. At first, a large number seemed to be passing, with only one or two failing to achieve the Hitai-ate. But as time went on, fewer and fewer seemed to come out of the small room with the symbol of the Leaf. Minato tensed when Tsume disappeared into the small room, only relaxing several minutes later when she returned with her own forehead protector tied firmly around her neck.
“Koga, Masaru!”
The pale boy visibly steeled himself, giving Minato a quick glance before hurrying on into the next room. The Namikaze crossed his fingers behind his back, inwardly praying for his academy friend to pass. Time passed slowly, the only noise to break the silence being the nervous shuffling of feet on the wooden floorboards. Several minutes passed, before at last, Masaru emerged with his own Hitai-ate, and a relieved expression displayed on his sickly features.
“Makioka, Kaori!”
Anko groaned impatiently, “This damn thing is taking forever.”
“It’s a pity your patience doesn’t match your skills, Anko,” Minato chortled, “You would probably be one of the best.”
The Mitarashi flashed him a quick grin, “I already am one of the best, Namikaze. And if you didn’t have your head in the clouds so often, you might actually come close to reaching my level someday.”
“On the contrary,” he murmured, a small smile on his lips “I think that it’s a good idea to just stop and consider a problem sometimes. Better that than just jumping straight in with your eyes closed.” The younger girl opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by a shout from the back room.
“Mitarashi, Anko!”
Settling with a sharp look at her rival, the potential kunoichi moved quickly towards the veil that hid the exam room from the main hall, leaving Minato at the front of what was left of the long line of Genin hopefuls. He was relatively confident about the examination, but even so, the slight flutter in his belly was enough to betray his apprehension. And so, when Anko came out of the small room, undisguised delight apparent as she fastened the Hitai-ate around her forehead, his unease grew.
“Namikaze, Minato!”
Releasing a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, the shinobi-in-training stepped forward slowly, as if in a dream. In the back of his mind, he vaguely realized that Tsume and Masaru were waving encouragingly from the other end of the hall. Even Anko gave him a curt smile as she passed him. But he barely noticed any of this, his dawn grey eyes fixed on the door ahead of him. With a slight hesitation, he slid it open and stepped through into the room beyond.
Target boards lined the walls of the small room, while various weapon racks leant against the back wall. In some places, scorch marks could be seen on the polished floorboards, signs of the exams that had taken place here over the years. Behind a wooden desk at the centre, Hideyoshi was looking at him contemplatively, while his fellow Chuunin, Hiroshi, hurriedly began jotting down the Namikaze’s details onto a long form. His instructor stood as Minato approached the desk, quickly clearing his throat, “Minato, if you would please perform the Henge first, forming an image of the current Hokage.”
The Namikaze nodded, and as suddenly as it had come, his nervousness vanished. This was what he had been trained to do; he would not fail. Placing his fingers in the correct form, the boy focused his chakra carefully, and murmured the word, “Henge.” There was a soft popping noise, and the Sandaime Hokage stood in the spot where Minato had been only moments before.
Stepping around the desk, Hideyoshi moved closer to examine the form of the technique. To say that he was impressed would be a severe understatement. The student had gotten every inch of the transformation jutsu correct, from the intricate embroidery on the hem of the white robes, to the few lines of grey in the dark head of the Fire Shadow. It was amazingly detailed, right down to a small scar just beneath the chin. Nodding his approval, he returned to behind his desk and scribed down the results. There was another soft pop as the Namikaze released the Henge.
“Next, we would like you to perform the Bunshin, if you could.”
Smiling confidently, Minato formed the required seal, “Bunshin.” Several poofs accompanied his cry, and Hideyoshi nodded his appreciation once more as four carbon copies of Minato appeared next to the original. He bent his head for a moment, his pen dashing across the page as he filled in the results. The four Bunshin vanished, leaving the original Minato standing alone in front of the table, his grey eyes gleaming with anticipation.
At last, the instructor stood up once more, also lifting a fist sized stone from the desk, “I am going to throw this towards the other end of the room, and you have to Kawarimi with it before it reaches the wall. Understood?”
The academy student nodded slowly, his intent gaze fixed on the stone. Putting a moderate amount of strength behind the throw, Hideyoshi hurled the heavy object, aiming it directly over the boy’s shoulder. Minato seemed to turn with it as it shot past, watching as it flew towards the wall at his back. And in that split second the Namikaze was gone from the floor in front of them, replaced instead by the stone. Hideyoshi smiled as the boy made his way back to the centre of the room, “Very well done, Minato. All that’s left is the physical exam.”
The blonde nodded neutrally, watching as Hideyoshi lowered himself into his seat to finish his marking, while Hiroshi rose after a final glance at the paper, “Alright buddy, let’s see what you can do with a kunai. Show me the basic stance first please.”
Reaching into the pouch that was attached to his thigh, the Namikaze quickly retrieved a kunai and slipped into the standard defensive stance, with both feet firmly planted on the ground, and the small weapon raised at a distance from his body. Hiroshi smiled, marking something down, and then looked up again, “Now, how about a normal throw?”
“Which target?” the boy asked respectfully.
“Any one will do,” the more experienced shinobi chuckled, amused by the Namikaze's deference.
Casting his gaze around, Minato finally settled on one of the targets at an average distance. Aware that his teacher’s eyes were watching his every move, he took a deep breath, readied his throw, and released. The pitch was perfect, the stance and trajectory both more than efficient. And so the kunai buried itself in the target with a dull thunk. Even Hiroshi whistled appreciatively.
“I think you’re going to do just fine, Namikaze.”
The taijutsu teacher lowered himself into his chair, his pen racing across the surface of his papers as he completed the last of the marking. He conferred with Hideyoshi for a moment, before reaching into a drawer and pulling out a brand new Hitai-ate of the Hidden Leaf. And despite his stoicism throughout the course of the exam, Minato’s eyes lit up at the sight of the swirling symbol of the Leaf.
Clearing his throat once more, Hideyoshi smiled as he presented the boy with the prized forehead protector, “Minato Namikaze, it is with great pleasure that I name you a Genin of Konohagakure no Sato. Congratulations on reaching your goal.”
To his surprise, the newly instated Genin gave a small, tired grin as he accepted the Hitai-ate from his instructor, tying it carefully around his brow, “With all due respect, Hideyoshi-sensei, there is still a long way to go until I accomplish my goal.”
“There is no doubt you will go a long way if that performance is any indication of what you can do,” Hiroshi praised, before his tone returned to that of the teacher, “You are to report to your classroom at the normal time tomorrow morning. But until then, you’re dismissed.”
Giving a respectful bow to his two teachers, Minato barely restrained the giddy grin that threatened to break out on his youthful features. To his own surprise, he managed to maintain his self-control as far as the door, slipping out into the main hall as the call of “Nara, Shizuma!” rang out over his head. The dark haired boy yawned once before slouching past the Namikaze into the room beyond. And then, in front of most of his class, Minato let a wide smile spread over his features, his pleasure obvious for all to see.
From the entrance opposite him, Anko gave him a wide grin, “I take it you passed, Namikaze?”
Minato could only give a relieved nod as he made his way across the room towards her. Tsume and Masaru were nowhere to be seen, more than likely on their way home to celebrate with their family after their successful graduation. As if reading his mind, Anko looked around before saying, “Your friends left a few minutes ago. They told me to tell you that they would see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks Anko,” the Namikaze replied.
“Don’t mention it,” she said instinctively.
“I’ll remember not to,” he said with a chuckle, recalling Masaru’s words from earlier. The Mitarashi gave him a dirty look, moving from her position by the door and exiting the large hall. Minato followed more slowly, a few feet behind the younger kunoichi. Anko continued to ignore him, even when he continued to tail her as far as the street.
It was a normal day in Konoha, and thus the streets were crowded with bustling citizens, hurrying between the various stores and stalls located around the growing settlement that was the Village Hidden in the Leaves. On the walls, a reduced number of Chuunin and Jonin stood watch, always casting their gaze to the north. To the east of the city, the monument to the Hokages rose proudly into the sky, the chiseled features of the three Fire Shadows watching protectively over their people.
Finally, it seemed Anko had had enough. Whirling about, she glared daggers at her classmate, “Stop following me, Namikaze, otherwise you just might regret it.”
“Might?” Minato chortled, “So there’s only a minor chance that I will regret it, Anko?”
“There’s a minor chance you won’t make it home without injuries if you don’t leave me alone,” the Mitarashi stated acidly, whipping around and rushing off into the huge crowd gathered.
Minato sighed as he lost sight of Anko in the multitude of people thronging through the dusty avenues of Konoha. Climbing atop an overturned wooden cart, he looked up and down the street, searching for any sign of his longstanding rival. But there was nothing to indicate where the newly graduated kunoichi had gone. Sighing once more, the Genin dropped to the ground, glanced the way he had come once more, and then headed off in the direction of home.
XXXX
The door to the apartment swung open with a quiet creak, the insides of the small room swallowed by the shadows of the evening. Wandering blindly through the dark house, the Namikaze called out absently, “Chika! Chika, I’m home!”
With a casual flick, he raised the blinds, allowing a modicum of the twilight to light up the pitch darkness of his home. Turning around, he unhooked his weapons pouch with ease, dropping it on the bench. He removed the Hitai-ate more gently, almost with a sort of respect. Placing it carefully on the bench top, he made his way further into the house, “Chika, it’s me. I’ve come home, and you’ll never guess what happened today!”
Silence greeted his question, as he had expected. He approached the bedroom door that was next to his own, knocking lightly before entering. As he thought, the bare space was devoid of the older girl’s presence. Only the folded Fuuma Shuriken sitting atop the windowsill, a half filled sack of kunai, and the messy folds of the sleeping mat on the floor suggested that anything inhabited the cramped room. With a soft sigh, the young Namikaze eased the door shut once more.
Moving back to the main living quarters, he grabbed a cup of ramen off the shelves above the window, pointedly ignoring the small note attached to the glass in front of him. Returning to his own room, he nudged the door open with his foot, slipping in to take a seat on his own sleeping mat.
Similarly to Honoka, Minato’s chamber was relatively undecorated in regard to the normal colours and ornaments that you might expect of an average twelve year old. Instead, the walls were lined with a variety of racks and hooks, some of which held small pouches containing kunai and shuriken. The broken head of a naginata lay forlornly in the corner, while the snapped off hilt of a ninjato sat on the sill. And scattered all across the confined room, from beneath the bed to pinned up on the wall, a wide variety of scrolls could be seen, their rough surfaces covered in hundreds of symbols and writings.
Yawning widely, the Namikaze finished off the last of his meager meal with a gusto that had not been there when he first arrived home. Standing up wearily, he tossed the small cup into a box, lifting his eyes to one of the scrolls on the wall. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he read the neat kanji in the dim light of dusk.
My name is Minato Namikaze. I am going to be the greatest shinobi in history.
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Chapter end notes: All rights and profits associated with the Naruto franchise are the property of Masashi Kishimoto.