Just as the final of the taunting laughter began to fade, I sensed it.
A ripple in the air.
A whisper in my head.
"Host," Nano said smoothly, "a spatial ripple has been created close to you—2 o'clock, tree branch, twenty feet."
I was already in motion.
My hand flashed to my kunai as I turned and dropped into a low guard, eyes narrowing at the vacant tree branch.
Everyone stood still at my abrupt change.
Then—a flash of yellow.
Minato Namikaze materialized in a flash of light and chakra, serene and unruffled.
I still pretended.
"Who are you," I snapped, already springing forward, kunai pointed at his throat, "And how did you get here?"
He hadn't even had time to blink before a voice behind me broke the tension.
"You troublemaker—get down!" Rin yelled, waving a hand. "That's Minato-sensei! He's our teacher!"
I paused mid-air, blade inches away from his neck.
Minato raised both hands in surrender, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I come in peace," he said lightly. "I just wanted to spend a little time with my students. Seems my timing was off."
That hit me harder than expected.
The fastest man alive, always arriving too late.
Kishimoto did him dirty.
I dropped my kunai, landed near Itachi, and exhaled. "You weren't going to stop me?"
Itachi wasn't even slightly shaken. "You moved too fast," he replied matter-of-factly. "Even I flinched. For a second, I thought it was an attack."
I nodded, then looked back at Minato.
He was still looking at me, fascinated.
"You're amazing," he said after a moment. "You detected my teleportation before I teleported. How did you do that?"
I didn't voice it, but the response was easy—Nano.
My heightened senses had picked up on the ripple of space warping around me, something no ordinary shinobi would've detected.
I shrugged nonchalantly. "I just… sensed something. A ripple. The chakra nature was unknown."
Minato leaned forward, obviously impressed but deciding not to pry.
"Then, I suppose," he smiled, "I'm Minato Namikaze, jonin of Konoha—and the slightly tardy teacher of Rin and Kakashi."
I gave a half-bow. "Akira Nara. Nephew of Shikaku Nara and Inoichi Yamanaka. Also—Rin and Kakashi's official matchmaker."
Whack.
Kakashi slapped the back of my head with shocking accuracy. His eye flashed with murder.
Rin let out an inhuman sound, face bright red, waving her hands wildly. "That's not—! We're not—He's lying!"
Minato blinked—then exploded into laughter.
"Oh, finally," he laughed between them. "I was beginning to think you two would never get it. Even Kushina caught on—and she's thicker than a chakra-sealed rock."
Rin's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and for a second, it looked like steam was about to pour out of her ears and the top of her head.
Kakashi groaned hard. "We're not together," he mumbled. "He's just being annoying"
"I am annoying," I declared, running my hand over the back of my head. "But I'm also not wrong."
Minato smiled at them both, his expression one of warmth that only a person who cared could manage.
And for a second—even with all that I had learned about the future—it felt like perhaps this timeline stood a chance.
Perhaps, this time, he'd be more than just a legend who came too late.
Minato stood close by, serene and smiling, his presence relaxed but vigilant—like a storm that might unleash itself if necessary.
That's when Rin suddenly sat up a bit straighter and said, "Minato-sensei… would you teach me fuinjutsu?"
I blinked in surprise.
Then I leaned in and whispered loudly enough for all to hear: "Big Sis, you sure? I mean, no offense, but he doesn't seem like the type who would know fuinjutsu. If you want to learn, why not go to a proper master?"
Rin tilted her head, puzzled. "Like who?"
I grinned. "I heard from my father there's a red-haired woman in her early twenties—goes by the nickname Red-Hot-Blooded Habanero. Total seal genius. Scary as hell, though."
Minato froze mid-breath.
Black lines formed across his face.
Rin and Kakashi both started chuckling.
Itachi, deadpan as ever, added, "That's his girlfriend. And yes—he's a fuinjutsu master. Even if he doesn't look like it."
Another emotional arrow straight to Minato's heart.
I slapped a hand over my mouth, attempting to stifle the laughter. "Damn. Apologies, sensei. Did not mean to roast you to your students."
Minato drew in a deep breath, recomposing himself as a pro does. "It's okay," he said with a tight-lipped smile.
Then he focused on Rin, more gravely now. "Why do you wish to master fuinjutsu?"
Rin stood up straight, eyes firm. "I want to learn more about support skills. I might not be healthy enough to fight alongside Kakashi on the front… but I still want to support him. Learning fuinjutsu would provide me with more options—barriers, traps, and chakra seals. It would make a difference."
Minato nodded, eyes contemplative. "But weren't you training to become a combat ninja?"
Rin looked away. "I was," she admitted. "I wanted to fight alongside Kakashi. But I think about it now… I'm not strong enough. I'd be in his way. So if I cannot fight alongside him, I will serve him in a supporting role instead. I'll get stronger too, just a different way."
There was quiet for an instant. There shone a spark of determination in her eyes.
Minato smiled warmly. "Alright. I'll inform Kushina. As you're on a rest period for a while, you can visit our house. We'll train you properly."
He looked at Kakashi. "You too."
Kakashi let out a sigh. "Knew that was coming."
Before anyone could say anything further, I held up my hand. "Can me and Itachi come too?"
Minato raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
I smiled. "Well, since you, Kakashi, and Big Sis Rin are going to be in one location, I think this is a good chance. Me and Itachi need some serious training. Sparring with someone like you? That's how you develop."
I elbowed Itachi. "Ain't that right?"
Itachi nodded ever so slightly. "Yes. Since our last sparring matches… routine drills have become boring. Actual combat will hone our skills quicker."
Minato blinked.
Then sighed. "You kids don't take breaks, do you?"
I grinned. "You know what they say. War waits for no one."
He scowled like he wanted to fight—but couldn't.
"Fine," he said eventually. "You can come too. But just if you don't set fire to my house."
"No promises," I said cheerfully.
Rin sighed. "Why do I have the feeling this is going to be a disaster?"
Kakashi grunted, "Because it will be."
Itachi nodded. "Statistically, that is correct."
Minato simply laughed, massaging his temples as if he was already regretting it all.
And me?
I was just relieved we'd gained a bit more time.
The sky was fading—orange bleeding into purple as the sun set low.
Itachi and I walked side by side, towards the village edge where home lay. The silence stretched between us easily, until Itachi spoke.
"Why did you do that?"
I looked at him. "Do what?"
He did not look at me. "You normally stay back. You don't get involved unless there's a reason. But this time… you spoke to them. Assisted them. Attempted to matchmake two people you hardly know."
I exhaled.
Of course, he saw.
And of course,e he was going to ask.
I couldn't very well say "I saw their lives in an anime and I know the ending." That would not fly. And if I didn't provide him with a good answer now, he'd bring this up whenever he wanted to troll me for being "soft."
So I told him the truth—the version that fits here.
"When I saw Kakashi," I said slowly, "I saw his eyes. And they seemed to be closing down—like he was expecting to lose. Like he was being used to it."
Itachi did not say anything.
I continued. "I recognize that look. When my mom died… I felt the same way. Like everything would continue to shatter, and it was better not to care."
I paused.
But my father was there. My uncle. My aunts. You. There were individuals around me who did not allow me to remain in that space. They pulled me forward. Piece by piece, they made it tolerable."
I gazed out at the road.
"So when I saw Kakashi today, I thought… if nobody goes to him now, if he continues to drive people away, he'll get lost in that sorrow. And perhaps he'll never return."
Itachi nodded weakly, still silent.
"As for the matchmaking…" I smiled a little. "It was obvious. They like each other. They're just too stubborn or afraid to admit it. So I thought, why not help? Push them a little. If it works, great. If not, at least they'll start thinking about it."
Itachi finally glanced over at me, calm and unreadable as ever.
"Sometimes," he said softly, "you exhibit emotions and maturity beyond your years. It's as if you've known them for years. As if you're offering advice from experience you shouldn't possess."
I shrugged. "Says the boy who ponders life every three seconds."
He halted walking for half a beat.
"I do not overthink," he stated bluntly.
I raised an eyebrow. "Mm-hmm."
He didn't answer, but I saw the flicker of annoyance in his jaw.
Victory.
We continued walking while the sky grew dark, the first stars flickering into visibility overhead between the trees.
And for a time, there was nothing else we had to say.
Home waited for us.
Uncle Shikaku had invited me to dinner at his home.
Since Father was off on the front lines once more, Shikaku didn't want me alone in the house. I didn't protest. The silence there could become oppressive. It was preferable this way—quieter.
His house was cozy and comfortable. The aroma of boiled vegetables and charred fish hung in the air. Dinner was relaxed: joking, chatting, me ragging him about his so-called "legendary Nara laziness." He would simply grin like he always did and say, "That's what makes me efficient."
We trained in the backyard after dinner.
We did some shadow jutsu training by the light of the lanterns. I demonstrated how I'd improved the Shadow Sewing—holding it steady with just one seal this time.
He drew an eyebrow back, impressed. "Not bad. Most adults still take a minimum of two seals to stabilize it."
That was significant, coming from him.
He showed me some pointers—minor things: angles, manipulation of the light, and chakra timing. I committed each to memory.
Later, after I'd tidied up and washed the day's grime from my skin, I sat in the guest room. The sheets felt soft, the night peaceful.
But I wasn't finished.
I shut my eyes—and dived into my mindscape.
A white emptiness lay before me. Tranquil. Controlled.
"Nano," I said.
A low thrum replied.
"Host. Online."
I folded my arms.
"From tomorrow," I instructed, "engage advanced cognitive learning systems and increase body adaptation protocols to high-output level. Prioritize muscle control, flexibility, and stamina."
"Affirmed."
"Also—track and analyze Minato Namikaze, Kakashi Hatake, and Kushina Uzumaki. Complete scan: body composition, muscle and bone mass, and neural pathways. I want their taijutsu styles analyzed, optimized, and integrated into my own. Streamline everything. Eliminate their vulnerabilities, and enhance their abilities.
"Understood. Scans and combat imprinting will begin during the next observed sessions."
"Good. Also—analyze the spatial ripple from earlier today. And the unknown chakra signature. Report back with a detailed breakdown tomorrow."
"Affirmative."
I stood still in the silence of my mind, letting the weight of the plan settle in.
This isn't just for power.
It's for survival.
Replicating Minato's reflexes, Kakashi's conditioning, and—if possible—Kushina's Uzumaki biology… would change everything.
Her endurance, strength, and particularly her chakra limit and resilience were unparalleled. If I could duplicate that—remodel my body accordingly—it might be the difference I need.
A body capable of healing faster, lasting longer, and sustaining more chakra… It wasn't merely practical.
It was essential.
Particularly for what's ahead.
The morning began as usual.
I woke up early, and did my dailies—breathing exercises, chakra control drills, and a quick sparring round of shadow control to keep my mind sharp. Breakfast was subdued but cheerful: Aunt Yoshino prepared tea and a simple rice-and-egg meal while Uncle Shikaku provided commentary from his position like a slacking general observing a battlefield.
Then I got to work.
My main training session concentrated on taijutsu—accurate strikes, counters, measured bursts of speed. Then shuriken and kunai training, striking moving targets at varied ranges. Meditation, next. I sat beneath a tree, lengthened my senses, and listened to the subtle chakra oscillations in my vicinity. Awareness of the senses was glacial in training, but I was improving.
Then the tough part.
Scenario training. Within my own mental landscape, Nano had loaded rehearsal combat routines—strategic puzzle-solving, group tactics, and random enemy movements. I went through three complete cycles before the drain began.
By the time I showered and went out to meet the others, I was sharp and on the go.
Training Ground 11.
Itachi was already there, standing serenely under the tree canopy like he had been waiting since morning.
We greeted each other, and I told him about my latest scenario training.
He listened in silence and then provided input.
"If I were you," he explained, "I would've done misdirection on the clone rather than sealing it outright. Conserves chakra and compels a mistake."
"It seems doable," I said.
A few minutes later, Rin and Kakashi showed up.
We welcomed them—Rin with a smile, Kakashi with his characteristic half-eye squint and dramatic silence. Then we walked off towards Minato's place.
As we walked, Itachi and Kakashi inevitably began teasing each other.
"You're late," Itachi said without turning around.
"I had a reason," Kakashi said.
"Was it deep existential horror again, or just reading that strange book?"
Kakashi stretched. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Already assumed the worst."
Meanwhile, I was on a mission of my own.
I smiled at Rin, cheerful and stubborn. "Big Sis Rin, not to be pushy—no, actually, I am being pushy on purpose—but you ought to go out on one date in your young life. Just one. For character-building purposes."
She groaned. "Akira…"
"C'mon, a walk, a dance, a bowl of ramen! You'll thank me someday."
"We're not—" she began.
"—yet," I concluded. "You're not yet. But all great stories begin in denial."
She flushed and looked away, muttering something under her breath about how I was impossible.
We got there fifteen minutes later.
Minato's home sat at the end of a secluded walkway, hidden just behind a small copse of trees.
It was humble, but sturdy—two stories, solid wooden beams, a tiled roof that reflected morning sun. There was a narrow porch curving around the front with smooth, stone steps going up. A weathered training post in the front yard with edges worn away from years of use, and a wind chime near the door, faintly clinking in the wind.
To the left was a small garden, neat but maintained by someone who loved function more than aesthetics—rows of herbs and vegetables, a few medicinal plants, even a stubborn tomato vine climbing up a post.
The air smelled faintly of tea and something sweet baking inside.
Warm. Lived-in. A real home.
It suited them.
Kakashi stepped forward first. "Guess we're here."
I grinned. "Ready to become fuinjutsu masters or emotionally confused teenagers?"
Nobody replied.
I took that as a yes.