Konoha, Year 48. Winter.
Six years later.
Time, when it sped by, was even faster than Minato's Flying Thunder God.
A great many things had happened in those six years.
Jiraiya had taken Minato as his final disciple, and Minato's Rasengan had taken shape. Kushina had come to Konoha from the Land of Whirlpools. The red-haired little firecracker, who had once regarded everyone with wary suspicion, had finally begun blushing in secret under Minato's clumsy but persistent attempts to win her over.
Uchiha Itachi was seven years old. The quiet boy with beautiful black eyes had just graduated from the Ninja Academy—four years early. The entire Uchiha clan was talking about this genius.
Yan had spent those six years doing two things: carrying out Shadow Guard missions and making secret arrangements.
His influence within the Uchiha steadily rose. After that night at Naka Shrine, the radicals had indeed quieted down for a while. That old man Yan Yuan had suffered a stroke and been left paralyzed, supposedly from sheer rage. Jiping remained active, but his words had noticeably grown more restrained. He no longer dared to shout provocations to Yan's face. Fugaku's attitude toward Yan had become subtle—he no longer tried to control him, yet he did not fully trust him either. The two maintained a strange balance: you leave me alone, and I won't touch you.
Itachi's growth was Yan's most satisfying "investment" over the years.
From the time Itachi was three, Yan had approached him as an "elder from the Uchiha branch family." He told him stories of the battlefield, of Konoha's history, of the Uchiha's past and their possible future. Naturally, the specifics had been carefully selected. He could not tell a child like some madman, "Six years from now, you'll slaughter your entire family," but he