Rain Curtain

Another three days passed.

That afternoon, the dismissal bell had long since rung, yet an unusually large number of students had gathered on campus.

They whispered among themselves, their gazes unanimously directed toward the classroom designated as the special examination room.

Today was the day Hatake Kakashi took his early graduation exam.

Living up to the name of a Genius, five-year-old Hatake Kakashi passed every examination with flawless results. He officially graduated from the Ninja Academy, setting a new record as the youngest graduate since Konoha's founding.

After the examination, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, who had personally come to observe, placed the Konoha forehead protector representing Genin status onto Kakashi's brow.

Many people gathered outside the examination room, and Shinichi was among them.

The door opened.

Kakashi emerged with a brand-new forehead protector on his brow. There was no joy at passing the exam and breaking the record, nor any excitement at putting on the protector and becoming a ninja.

Above the mask that concealed most of his face, his eyes were hollow and lifeless, as though he were a puppet.

He ignored every classmate who gathered around, hoping to speak with or congratulate him, as if they did not exist.

He merely lowered his head slightly and walked through the automatically parting crowd, one step at a time. Silent, he headed out, his figure looking unusually lonely and burdened beneath the lengthening shadows of the sunset.

Shinichi watched that small silhouette gradually fade into the distance against the light. His expression did not change, and even he did not know what he was thinking.

After Kakashi left, the gathered students gradually dispersed as well. Shinichi turned and joined the stream of students heading home.

Konoha's skies remained blue, and life in the village appeared as peaceful as ever. But Shinichi knew that this peace would not last much longer.

Four years.

At most, he only had four years.

Although the timeline of the original story in his memories was vague and muddled, he could still make a rough estimate through certain fixed "markers."

For instance, most students in their class—Asuma Sarutobi, Kurenai Yuhi, Shizune, and even dead last students like Obito Uchiha—would graduate at the age of nine.

As for Shinichi himself, because he had started school a year late, he would be ten by then.

That meant Konoha's graduation policy would inevitably change within four years at most.

By then, some major upheaval must have occurred. Even if the Third Great Ninja War had not yet fully broken out, the situation must have suddenly become tense enough to give Konoha's higher-ups a powerful sense of crisis, prompting them to approve the early graduation of a group of students to replenish their manpower.

In other words, he had at most four years of relatively stable school life left.

Four years from now, whether he stepped directly onto the most brutal battlefield or not, he would begin a true ninja life woven from blood and fire.

A sense of urgency began to knock clearly within his heart like the silent ticking of a second hand.

Walking beneath the lingering glow of sunset, Shinichi's mind raced as he continuously planned the road ahead.

Building his persona and generating and upgrading Traits remained the most central and fundamental path to increasing his strength. That had never changed.

The efficiency of generating and upgrading Traits fundamentally depended on the breadth, depth, and authority of outside perception. Between studying at the Ninja Academy and becoming a Genin just after graduation, there was not much difference in efficiency. It might even be worse.

The true dividing line was becoming a ninja with a title.

Only when he possessed a distinctive title that resounded throughout the Shinobi World, like the White Fang of Konoha, the Legendary Sannin, or the Yellow Flash, would it mean that countless ninjas and forces across the entire Shinobi World knew of him, discussed him, feared him, or worshipped him.

That would be a qualitative transformation in the scope of perception. Only then could the speed at which his Traits were generated and upgraded truly skyrocket.

So over these four years, Shinichi needed to grind out as many Traits as possible and raise them as high as possible.

Not only to ensure that he began his ninja career from a very high starting point in strength and would not die young in the early stages, but also to shorten the time it took for him to become a ninja with a title.

At the same time, aside from Traits, how to effectively use his existing resources to gain access to more advanced inheritances and Guidance had also been placed on the agenda.

His gaze fell on his two special desk mates—Ishizuka Takashi and Shizune.

Over the past few months, thanks to his gentle nature, consistently outstanding grades, and the invisible help of his [Affinity] Trait, he had gotten along quite well with both of them.

His interactions with Ishizuka Takashi were the most direct and straightforward. This dark, sturdy, cheerful boy was simple-minded and admired effort and perseverance. Shinichi's solid taijutsu and diligent attitude suited his tastes perfectly.

The two often sparred and exchanged insights on taijutsu. Their relationship had long surpassed that of ordinary classmates, carrying a hint of mutual admiration between companions.

Through Takashi, getting in touch with Chen Baojun, the taijutsu master known as "Konoha's Dragon God," seemed like a viable path.

His relationship with Shizune, meanwhile, was one of gradual familiarity and tacit understanding. Shizune was somewhat lazy and introverted, but she had sharp powers of observation and a kind heart.

As her desk mate, Shinichi's usual diligence, steadiness, and the occasional reliability he displayed had gradually earned her trust and faint affection.

Now, she would occasionally mention that "unreliable Lady Tsunade."

Relationships were bridges, but how to cross them, earn trust, and then obtain Guidance or an inheritance required more delicate planning and a firm grasp of timing.

Four years was neither short nor long. He had to create a more precise and efficient plan, incorporating the accumulation of Traits, leaps in strength, and the cultivation of key connections, advancing all of them in parallel without conflict.

Shinichi slowed his pace and withdrew his gaze from the darkening sky.

Lead-gray clouds hung low, and the air was filled with the earthy scent and oppressive heaviness unique to the moments before rain.

It's going to rain, he thought, quickening his pace home.

However, just as he turned a street corner, his heart suddenly gave a faint, unprompted jolt.

Some vague pull, some indescribable sensation, made him stop involuntarily and turn his gaze toward the west side of the village—the silent cemetery.

After thinking for a moment, he turned his steps and changed direction, walking toward the cemetery beneath the increasingly gloomy sky.

At the same time, Konoha Cemetery.

The leaden clouds nearly pressed down upon the treetops, and the wind began to howl as it swept dead leaves and dust across the ground.

Before a relatively new gravestone stood a small figure, who had been there for an unknown length of time.

Kakashi.

He stood there silently without moving. The wind before the rain stirred the hair before his forehead and his brand-new ninja forehead protector, but he seemed entirely unaware.

The eyes above his mask stared hollowly ahead. There was no intense emotion in them, only a nearly deathly blankness, as though all his feelings had been buried alongside the person beneath the gravestone.

He had completely immersed himself in his own world—or rather, in a soundless void.

Rumble!

A ghastly white bolt of lightning tore open the heavens, and the thunder that followed shook the earth until it seemed to tremble.

The long-gathering downpour finally came crashing down in an instant!

Raindrops as large as beans pattered down, instantly shrouding the world in a vast white curtain of rain and deafening noise.

The gale whipped the rain into lines that lashed against the gravestones, trees, and everything on the ground.

Kakashi remained where he was, seemingly intending to let the icy downpour soak him through, as though the numbness of his flesh could prove or dispel something within his heart.

But the expected sensation of rain striking his body never came.

A relatively quiet shadow enveloped him. At some unknown moment, a dark umbrella had opened above his head, shielding him from the howling wind and rain outside.