One morning, exactly two weeks after the Aoi Festival had wrapped up…
"I want to graduate."
That was the first thing Ren said to Danzo the moment he opened his eyes.
At that moment, Danzo Shimura was standing at the table in their room, his single visible eye locked intensely on a map of the Elemental Nations, his fingers tracing the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind.
The war drums of the Second Great Ninja War hadn't stopped pounding. He turned toward Ren, visibly surprised, then scoffed and rejected him without hesitation.
"No chance in hell."
"Why not?"
Danzo turned fully toward him, the folds in his cloak catching the light of the morning sun.
"Because your strength is still way too weak. The entire Shinobi world is on the brink of chaos, and war could erupt at any second. You graduate now? You're just signing your death warrant."
With that, he turned back to the map, clearly done with the conversation.
Ren, unimpressed, walked silently over to the window, planted one foot on the sill, and declared with theatrical conviction, "If you don't let me graduate, I swear to the Sage of Six Paths—I'll jump!"
Danzo didn't even flinch. "If you can die from jumping off the first floor, I'll sign your graduation papers myself."
"You said it! No takesies-backsies!"
Before Danzo could blink, Ren hurled himself off the ledge. He dropped all of half a meter and landed squarely on the grassy patch outside, where he immediately began to roll around dramatically.
"Ahhh! Agh! My spine! Oww, my leg! Ya die! I'm going into shock! Call Lady Tsunade! Oh wait, she hasn't shown up in the plot yet—guess I'm gonna die!"
He sniffled a little, wiping a suspiciously grass-stained tear from the corner of his eye.
After a solid thirty seconds of this Oscar-worthy performance, Danzo finally sighed, stepped out of the house, and looked down at the mess that was Ren.
"Alright, alright. You win. You can graduate," Danzo muttered, rubbing his temples. "Just look at you. Pathetic."
Ren immediately sat up like nothing had happened and beamed. "Thanks, old man! After recovering from my last injury, I broke through to Chūnin level. You gotta go through some real shit to get strong, right? Trust me, my talent's real!"
Danzo squinted at him. "I do believe in your talent. But even the most gifted shinobi need time. Without that, you're just a juicy target. One wrong move and you're a stain on some Iwagakure kunai."
"I know, I know." Ren yawned and picked at his ear. "You've said it, like, five thousand times. Only a genius who stays alive can be called a genius. I've practically got it tattooed in my brain."
"The standard training is too slow. But now that Sakumo-sensei's finished teaching me Lightning Release, I'm ready. I mean, c'mon—how many Chūnin do you know that have completely mastered two Chakra Nature Transformations? If the world finds out, their jaws are gonna drop so hard they'll need jaw surgery."
Danzo narrowed his eye. "Don't get cocky, brat. Remember what I told you. Don't fight to be a hero. If things get hairy—run. You're my only son. Don't throw your life away."
Ren blinked. "I thought we weren't talking about that. Anyway… speaking of which, what happens now that I've 'graduated'? I better not be doing D-rank or C-rank chores. I want real missions. Real grind. Danger. Drama. Blood. Trauma. You know, the good stuff."
Danzo smirked. "You want danger? Go join the Anbu."
Ren never expected those words to turn into a full-blown gotcha moment.
Looking back, it had all started a few days ago when Hatake Sakumo finished his last Lightning Release class. At the end, Ren had stood up, pointed at him, and screamed, "Just wait, Hatake Sakumo! I swear I'll surpass you and shave that pretty-boy hair off in your sleep!"
Turns out, mouthing off has consequences.
Now, in the Hokage's Office, Danzo and Hiruzen Sarutobi stood on either side of the desk, both silent. Hatake Sakumo was standing in front of Ren, eyes boring into him like he was sizing up a battlefield. There was an amused glint in Sakumo's gaze, just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Anbu operatives are required to obey orders unconditionally. Shimura Ren, do you accept this?"
"I do!" Ren's voice was hard, determined, as if he were reciting the final line of a dramatic shinobi stage play.
"…Fuck," Hiruzen muttered under his breath. Danzo mirrored the thought with a side glance, both men internally panicking.
They knew Ren.
This wasn't the brat just playing pretend anymore. He was serious. Danzo had planned to push Ren into Anbu from the start—but he'd wanted to keep it controlled. Throw the kid into the system, sure, but never into real danger. Use loopholes to feed him easy escort missions. Stuff where the biggest threat was a drunk client or an allergic reaction to sushi.
In Anbu, disobedient shinobi get chewed up and spat out. And Danzo figured if Ren couldn't follow orders, he'd get kicked out naturally. No harm, no foul.
But now? Ren wasn't just walking into the meat grinder—he was jumping into it, headfirst, yelling "Yahoo!"
And worse, the war was coming.
Ren had seen the writing on the wall. The Second Shinobi World War was brewing, and it was going to be big. He couldn't afford to level up like some normie academy dropout. He needed power fast. And nothing sped up strength like risking your life for XP.
His plan was simple: join Anbu, take high-risk missions, use his mysterious Face-Face Fruit ability to force duels with enemy nin, win them in dramatic fashion, and gain Skill Scrolls, Chakra upgrades, and XP in a grinding loop of near-death brilliance.
Simple. Efficient. Terrifying.
"I'll give you one day," Sakumo said at last, his voice calm but firm. "Tomorrow at noon, report to Anbu HQ. Get familiar with the environment. Your first mission starts the day after. No graduation ceremony. No academy bullshit. Hokage-sama will drop you from the register directly."
Ren nodded, eyes gleaming.
He was in.