Summer, year 10 of Konoha.
The summer night in Konoha's tenth year was stifling, without a breath of wind.
Clouds covered the moon completely. Only the two storm lanterns that burned year-round outside the Ninja Academy cast dull yellow halos into the thick darkness, barely illuminating the stone steps and bare pillars flanking them.
It was the latter half of the night, when people were most exhausted. Even the intervals between Anbu patrols seemed longer than usual. The academy was pitch-black inside, with only the elderly caretaker snoring in the gatehouse. His snores drifted through the gaps in the window into the humid heat.
Just then, a shadow deeper than the night slid soundlessly along the shadows of the academy wall like melted ink, appearing in the open space before the main entrance. The figure moved extremely fast, never pausing, as though he knew every brick and stone here. He approached the right pillar and raised a hand. A faint, barely perceptible glimmer of chakra gathered at his fingertip, not to provide light, but like an invisible brush dipped in black ink too thick to dissolve-the ink was so dark it barely reflected the dim lamplight, with a strangely viscous quality.
His fingertip descended, the strokes bold and forceful, biting deep into the pillar. He did not write slowly, but in one unbroken sweep, with a surging sharpness and... icy mockery.
Left pillar: "Hokage come and go."
Right pillar: "The ninja clans stand firm."
The handwriting was hardly first-rate calligraphy; it was even somewhat jagged and defiant. Yet every stroke cut deep into the stone, dripping with ink that seemed ready to seep into its cracks. Without pausing after finishing the pillars, the shadow flickered up to the crossbeam above the main entrance, his fingertip moving once more-
Across the