The courtyard of the old Senju estate was steeped in the amber glow of dusk.
The evening breeze rustled through the branches of the ancient trees.
Beneath the veranda, lanterns cast a soft, warm light.
Grandma Momoka sat as still as an old stone monument.
When Shuji pushed open the door and stepped inside, she merely lifted her eyelids slightly.
“Back?” Her voice was flat, revealing little emotion.
Even so, her weathered gaze lingered on Shuji from head to toe for a few moments longer than necessary, as it always did.
“Yeah, Grandma.” Shuji sat down at the edge of the veranda and relaxed his posture.
“The Third Hokage summoned me.
It was about the team arrangement…
and my promotion to Special Jōnin.” He deliberately left out the finer details of the team arrangement.
There was no point making the old woman worry.
After all, he had agreed to become Itachi’s team leader, and immediately afterward the Third Hokage had offered him a promotion.
It sounded rather like an exchange.
No—in practical terms, that was exactly what it had been.
Grandma Momoka’s fingers tightened around her teacup for the briefest instant.
She said nothing, merely turning her gaze toward a corner of the courtyard already swallowed by deepening shadows.
“I need recommendation letters from two active chūnin or jōnin,” Shuji continued in the same matter-of-fact tone he might have used while reporting a mission.
“Then there’s a specialized ability assessment.” “So I’ll probably have to trouble you with the recommendation letters.” “Recommendation letters?” Grandma Momoka slowly turned back toward him.
For a moment, the very air beneath the veranda seemed to freeze.
She lifted her cup and took a sip.
Even the steaming tea couldn’t completely hide the thoughtful gleam that passed through her eyes.
The people capable of writing those letters…
Naturally, he meant them.
In the fragments of memory Shuji had inherited, those people were much like distant relatives with whom the family maintained only a loose connection.
At certain times each year, they would visit the slightly desolate old estate carrying respectable but never extravagant gifts—beautiful boxes of sweets, seasonal fruit, or small curiosities brought back from outside Konoha.
The memories were somewhat hazy.
Some of those faces carried nostalgia for the past, and whenever they spoke with Grandma Momoka, their respect for her was obvious.
The way they looked at young Shuji had always been complicated, as though they were examining some living keepsake connecting the past to the future.
They would pat him lightly on the head or shoulder and ask ordinary questions such as, “How are things going at the Ninja Academy?” or “You’ve gotten taller again.” Their voices were gentle, carrying the concern of elders, yet always with a faint sense of distance.
To the current Shuji, these people were little more than distant relatives who appeared briefly during holidays and special occasions.
Their emotional ties were thin, and they rarely contacted one another.
But now that he needed their help, the most sensible option was to ask Grandma Momoka—the elder who still stood at the center of those old connections—to coordinate things for him.
From an adult’s perspective, it was unquestionably the most appropriate, courteous, and convenient approach.
Having an elder contact them was far more natural and efficient than having a fourteen-year-old boy personally hunt down half-remembered uncles and aunts with whom he barely had a relationship and ask them to write recommendation letters.
Grandma Momoka lowered her teacup.
The bottom touched the saucer with a faint, crisp click.
Her gaze rested on Shuji’s still-youthful face.
Fourteen.
Not particularly young by shinobi standards.
In this world, fourteen was already old enough to shoulder serious responsibilities.
But to Grandma Momoka, he was still far too young.
A recommendation letter wasn’t merely paperwork.
It represented a position—a declaration of trust.
When the head of a family wrote one for a younger member, it meant acknowledging that person as a representative of the family.
When a chūnin recommended someone for jōnin rank, it meant they were willing to accept that person’s leadership.
When a jōnin wrote the letter, it meant they recognized the candidate’s abilities in some field strongly enough to regard them as someone worthy of standing beside them as a comrade.
So if she asked those people to write Shuji’s letters…
Should she allow them to come into contact with him?
Should she let him step into that circle already?
After Lord Hashirama and Lord Tobirama passed away one after another, those people had developed a habit of gathering at the old estate whenever an opportunity arose.
Perhaps, beneath the nostalgia, they were also trying to preserve a network—a bond that would allow them to help one another when circumstances demanded it.
But behind that bond lay expectations.
Responsibilities.
And perhaps calculations of their own.
Those waters were too deep and murky for the current Shuji to wade into lightly.
“As for the recommendation letters…” Grandma Momoka finally said, “this old woman will take care of them.” “Do I need to prepare anything?” “You only need to focus on the assessment.” Grandma Momoka casually pushed a ceramic cup filled with freshly brewed tea toward him.
“The rest isn’t something you need to concern yourself with yet.” Shuji accepted the cup.
Warmth spread from the ceramic into his palms.
“Yes, Grandma.” He agreed without hesitation.
If the old woman intended to handle everything herself, Shuji was more than happy to save himself the trouble.
“The recommendation letters will be sent directly to the Hokage’s Office,” Grandma Momoka added calmly.
Holding the warm cup in both hands, Shuji’s thoughts immediately drifted elsewhere.
The foundation left behind by the original Shuji was exceptionally solid.
He could use all five basic nature transformations, and his chakra reserves had always been outstanding.
Abundant chakra also implied strong physical vitality, so his taijutsu had naturally never been weak.
As for genjutsu?
During the Warring States Period, Senju Momoka had been famous as a genjutsu specialist who fought against the Uchiha clan.
Shuji had been raised by her personally.
Even if genjutsu wasn’t his specialty, it certainly wasn’t a weakness.
And that was before considering his current condition.
Both the quantity and quality of his chakra had risen to an entirely new level.
His spiritual perception had grown sharper, and all five of his senses had improved dramatically.
A specialized assessment for promotion to Special Jōnin?
Whether it was the current Shuji or the original one, it wasn’t something worth worrying about.
For the current Shuji, the assessment was less a test of strength than a test of restraint.
He needed to judge precisely how much power to reveal—enough to demonstrate ninjutsu worthy of a jōnin and pass without difficulty, but not so much that his abilities appeared completely different from his previous record and invited unnecessary scrutiny.
What truly occupied his thoughts was his training to sense natural energy.
After carefully practicing and reflecting over the past several days, Shuji had reached the point where he could vaguely perceive the strange ripples that appeared in the surrounding space whenever a tree created through Wood Release attempted to draw in natural energy.
The sensation was still faint and elusive, and he remained incapable of actively absorbing natural energy himself.
Even so, it was positive feedback.
It gave him greater confidence that he was moving in the right direction.
All he needed was to keep training.
At the same time, he couldn’t neglect the deeper development of Wood Release.
His previous attempt to guide a Wood Release tree into absorbing natural energy had ended with the entire tree turning to stone.
But failure itself was valuable experience.
The tree he had created had simply been too weak.
So what should he improve next?
Should he focus on strengthening the trees produced by his Wood Release?
Or should he broaden the range of plants and forms he could create?
Both were problems that needed answers.
He had to understand the true nature of Wood Release more deeply and uncover the connection between it and natural energy.
Senju Hashirama had already opened a road ahead of him.
There was no reason Shuji couldn’t explore that road and eventually carve out a path of his own.
Power.
Only real strength—power firmly grasped in his own hands—would allow him to stand securely against the turbulent era he knew was coming, an age filled with chaos and countless unpredictable variables.
The promotion assessment was nothing more than a ripple on the surface.
Becoming stronger was what truly mattered.
Night gradually settled over the old estate.
Warm light spilled through the window lattice, forming hazy halos against the darkness.
Grandma Momoka watched the boy sitting there with a teacup in his hands, his unfocused eyes making it obvious that his mind had once again wandered deep into thoughts of training.
The tension in her shoulders eased almost imperceptibly.
Then she lifted her own cup of tea, already cooled to lukewarm, and slowly took another sip.