It had been a month since the leaf-spinning lesson, and the Academy was no longer the same.
At least, not for Satoru Gojo.
The training yard echoed with laughter as Satoru leaned lazily against the trunk of a tree, his arms folded behind his head, grinning like a man who had already won. Seated in a semi-circle around him were Sakura, Ino, and Hinata — each reacting to his words in their own unique way.
"So I told him," Satoru said with theatrical flair.
"'Sensei, I didn't fail to climb the waterfall. I simply decided that water wasn't worthy of holding me up!'"
Sakura rolled her eyes but giggled all the same.
Ino let out a full laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Hinata, of course, blushed deeply and tried (and failed) to hold eye contact.
"You're so ridiculous sometimes," Sakura muttered, a slight smile tugging her lips.
"Ridiculously talented," Ino added, nudging Hinata, who nodded shyly.
Satoru placed a hand dramatically over his heart.
"And modest, don't forget that. It's my greatest quality."
Before the teasing could go any further, a bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of the mid-morning break.
Satoru stood up, dusted off his pants, and gave a final wink.
Meanwhile...
Inside the Hokage Tower, the atmosphere had turned colder than the stone walls themselves.
Hiruzen Sarutobi raised an eyebrow as he scanned the two clan heads standing before his desk — not seated, not relaxed. This wasn't a courtesy visit. It was a warning.
Hiashi Hyuga stood like an immovable pillar, arms crossed, the veins around his temples subtly pulsing from restrained tension. Inoichi Yamanaka was calmer in appearance, but his folded arms and tight jaw betrayed a matching frustration.
"We expected better oversight," Hiashi said first, his tone icy.
"From the Hokage. From the Academy. And certainly from the Gojo family."
Inoichi followed, voice quieter but no less pointed.
"Our daughters are not tools for manipulation or stepping stones for social climbing. And we will not tolerate their names or reputations being toyed with."
Hiruzen took a slow drag from his pipe, exhaling without speaking at first. His gaze was thoughtful, heavy with age and the weight of decades spent keeping Konoha together.
"He's a child," the Hokage said calmly.
"No older than your daughters. His talent is unusual, yes, and he lacks the... polish of someone raised with political caution. But from all reports, he's done nothing wrong."
Hiashi's eyes narrowed.
"We aren't asking for punishment. Yet. We're asking for control. The boy needs to be reminded of his place or he'll be taught it the hard way. And I'd prefer that message not come from the Hyuga."
Inoichi added.
"Tell his family. Warn them. Let them rein him in before things escalate."
Hiruzen leaned back slightly. The smoke from his pipe curled in front of his eyes as he studied both men.
"I understand your concerns," he said at last.
"And I will speak with the Gojo family. But know this — if the boy truly is what he appears to be, pressing too hard could push him in the wrong direction."
Hiashi didn't blink.
"Then I hope you're as convincing with the Gojos as you are with us."
Without another word, the two clan heads turned and left the office, the door shutting firmly behind them.
Left alone, Hiruzen looked down at the latest report from Iruka. His eyes lingered not on the test scores or chakra evaluations, but on the last scribbled line:
"If this continues, the Academy might become Satoru Gojo's personal harem."
The Hokage sighed.
"This child may very well be my greatest headache yet."
Later that evening...
The knock at the door came just after sundown.
Takeo Gojo opened it to find a masked ANBU waiting in silence. No words were exchanged — only a scroll, sealed with the emblem of the Hokage.
Takeo's eyes narrowed as he broke the seal and read.
His breath hitched.
To Jōnin Takeo Gojo,
"Effective immediately, your son, Satoru Gojo, is to be temporarily withdrawn from the Academy. You are hereby granted one month to prepare him for a special evaluation. A representative of my office will arrive at the end of this period to determine his suitability for advanced mentorship and long-term placement."
I trust you understand the weight of this opportunity. Or its consequences.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, Godaime Hokage.
Takeo's hand tightened around the scroll. His eyes flicked upward toward the closed hallway, where he could hear Satoru laughing to himself probably recounting some ridiculous "battle fantasy" from earlier in the day.
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
So… it had already begun.
Refinement.
A trial.
Takeo stepped outside, letting the night air cool his face as the ANBU disappeared into the trees like smoke.
"One month…" he muttered.
He turned his gaze to the stars above. They shimmered coldly, indifferent to the struggles below.
"Alright, my little idiot," he said under his breath.
"Time to make you unstoppable"
The Next Morning
Satoru stretched with a yawn, hair a mess and a confident grin already forming on his face.
He stared at the mirror as he washed up.
"Today's the day… The girls will probably argue over who gets to sit next to me again," he mused aloud, fixing his collar.
Sliding open the door to the kitchen, he called out:
"Morning! I'm off to school! Try not to miss me too much!"
But Takeo was already standing by the door, arms crossed.
"You're not going," he said bluntly.
Satoru blinked.
"What?"
Takeo tossed a rolled scroll onto the table.
"You're off the roster. Temporarily. One month."
The boy raised an eyebrow, walking over to unroll it.
"Wait... is this the Hokage's seal?"
Takeo nodded.
"You're kidding. I got expelled?"
"Withdrawn. On special orders. You've drawn too much attention." Takeo's tone was clipped, unreadable.
Satoru read the scroll again, lips pursed.
Then he grinned.
"Wow. I'm so amazing they had to kick me out just to stop me from breaking the system?"
Takeo didn't even blink. "It means you have thirty days. And starting today, your training will make the last month feel like warm-ups."
Satoru's grin didn't falter.
"Then let's make history."
Takeo sighed internally. The boy's confidence was a double-edged sword — bright and dangerous.
"Get your gear," he muttered.
"You're done being a showman. Time to become a weapon."
Satoru reached toward the usual wooden kunai hanging on the training rack.
But before his fingers could close around it, a cold weight dropped into his hand.
A real kunai. Sharp. Polished. Deadly.
He blinked, looking up.
Takeo stood in front of him, holding the wooden one instead.
His expression was calm. Too calm.
"Use that," Takeo said.
"No more toys."
Satoru's grin faltered slightly.
"…Isn't this a bit—?"
"Attack me," Takeo interrupted.
"Aim to kill."
Satoru stared. "You serious?"
Takeo's stance didn't change. He didn't even blink.
"You've been dancing through academy drills like a clown at a festival. Let's see what all that talent amounts to when you're holding steel."
The silence grew heavy between them. Even the air seemed to thicken.
Satoru looked down at the kunai. His hand tightened around the grip.
His breath steadied. The grin returned—quieter this time.
"…Alright, old man. Hope your reflexes haven't gotten rusty."
He blurred forward.
Satoru dashed forward, kunai gleaming in the morning light, eyes sharp with adrenaline and excitement.
Takeo moved like a ghost.
A palm struck Satoru's wrist, sending the kunai flying.
A fist followed, burying into his gut.
Satoru gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, his feet lifting off the ground. He hit the dirt hard.
Before he could rise, a kick spun him onto his back. Another blow came down—but stopped just short of his throat.
"Again."
Satoru coughed, rolling over. His arms trembled slightly. His stomach ached. He gritted his teeth.
This was different.
His father always held back before. Always taught with purpose, precision, clarity. But this—this was brutal.
Takeo was faster. Sharper. Cruel, even.
He wasn't trying to kill Satoru. But he also wasn't trying not to hurt him.
As Satoru pushed himself up, blood trickled from the corner of his lip. He wiped it with the back of his hand and looked up, confused and a little dazed.
"…You're not holding back anymore."
Takeo didn't deny it.
"You said you wanted to be strong. This is what strong takes."
He tossed the wooden kunai aside.
"You're advancing. I can see it. But it's not enough."
Satoru's eyes narrowed, fury and something else—something almost scared—swirling beneath the surface.
He clenched his real kunai tighter. His lip curled.
"…Then I'll make it enough."
Author Note: And this will be the end of Satoru's easy life for now. From now on, our boy will see what it's like to be a real ninja. Sooner because I didn't want to let him waste away in that academy like Sasuke. Like, look at the growth of the characters after leaving that place and look at how characters like Kakashi and Itachi evolved much faster having left as soon as possible. That place really screwed over characters like Sasuke and Shikamaru who could have developed much faster as ninjas by leaving the academy sooner.
Also, I'm sorry but this week is going to be very difficult for me and I won't be able to update every day.