After the first basic test, the academy curriculum suddenly became much more demanding.
At five or six years old, this was the stage for laying down a solid foundation. To accommodate this, the proportion of cultural and general education classes was reduced. Simple subjects—like basic arithmetic—were barely manageable even for children from ordinary families who could barely read or write.
Around this time, the teacher distributed a chakra extraction manual and instructed the students to study it at home.
To help students gain a more intuitive understanding of chakra, physical training was significantly increased.
The daily routine became intense: physical training in the morning, followed by cultural studies, and then more training until the end of the day.
The cultural curriculum was broad and eclectic, covering language, math, physics, chemistry, biology, and politics. But in practice, the emphasis was on language and politics.
The main objective? Understanding something called the Will of Fire.
Much of the ideological material was still crude and unpolished—idealistic propaganda in its infancy.
It wasn't about practical systems like capitalism or socialism, but a naïve ideal of complete self-sacrifice and blind devotion.
Selfless dedication that offered no benefit to oneself—this went against human nature.
This doctrine was a political tool of the Third Hokage: a pretty-sounding blank check. Believing in it blindly would be foolish.
And ninjas, especially those from powerful clans, were far from fools.
These family shinobi had survived the bloody Warring States Period. They knew the cost of naivety.
In reality, there was a clear division between the village and the clans. The new generation raised within the village hadn't matured yet, and the Third Hokage was still under heavy influence from the traditional families.
Even in his prime, he had to tread carefully.
The Uchiha were the most problematic, followed by the Senju, then the Hyuga.
These three made up Konoha's great clans.
Among the lesser clans, the Ino–Shika–Cho alliance had historically been allies of the Sarutobi.
The rest weren't easy to deal with either.
The Kurama clan, nearly equal in influence to the Uchiha, was a big clan—big enough to be seen as a threat in itself.
The Shimura clan had gained increasing political influence thanks to Danzo.
The Inuzuka were fiercely territorial and tribal.
And the Aburame? They remained eerily low-profile, shrouded in mystery, committed to a cold, alien version of ninja mysticism.
As the Third Hokage, Hiruzen knew that if he couldn't manage these clan dynamics, Konoha would eventually fracture—or worse, become a puppet village ruled by clans wearing the facade of unity.
Fortunately, the far-sighted Second Hokage had already laid a potential solution: the Konoha Ninja Academy.
Its true purpose? To cultivate a generation of civilian-born ninja to counterbalance the power of the clans.
But this would take time to bear fruit.
The academy had only been founded eight years ago. Its earliest students, not counting direct disciples of the Second Hokage, were barely Chunin-level now.
They had no political power yet.
For now, the Hokage's strategy was to win over certain factions and keep others in check.
At the same time, he needed to train a successor—the future Fourth Hokage.
As a key supporter of Hiruzen Sarutobi's rise to power, the Senju clan had a vested interest. That's why Princess Tsunade, of the Senju line, had to be named a personal disciple of the Third Hokage.
This was a decision the Senju clan couldn't refuse.
The traditional clans couldn't be trusted, so any remaining disciples would have to be chosen from among the commoners.
The Senju would never accept selecting a disciple from another major clan—not when Tsunade's rise to the top was still uncertain.
Because of this, the Hyuga and Uchiha were excluded.
The Kurama clan, too, was off the table—despite being nearly as powerful as the Uchiha.
The Shimura clan was even worse. Danzo's growing influence couldn't be allowed to continue unchecked.
The Inuzuka clan was wild and difficult. While their family's techniques were impressive, they lacked the versatility and depth to produce top-tier ninja. Still, they didn't provoke hostility from the Senju.
As for the Aburame clan… they were a mystery.
They had almost no presence in village affairs, keeping themselves apart. The Third Hokage found it difficult to judge their intentions. They gave off the vague impression of outsiders—tenants in the village, not true participants in its struggles.
Bringing them into the fold wouldn't be easy.
They were a small, secretive tribe. Few in number, rarely intermarrying, and their insect-based jutsu made them deeply unpopular.
But precisely because of their isolation, they posed no threat to the Senju's ambitions.
Thus, selecting a prodigy from the Aburame would not cause political backlash.
After all, he was the Sandaime Hokage—he couldn't afford to let his every move be dictated by the Senju. Even if they misunderstood his intentions, he had to take steps to stabilize the village on his own terms.
With a cigarette holder resting between his fingers, Hiruzen Sarutobi watched the image of a young girl flickering in his crystal ball.
He had been observing her for a week.
There was nothing particularly flashy about her behavior—no extra training, no show of ambition. After classes, she would head straight for the Forest of Death, a dangerous place even for Chunin.
But to her, the forest seemed like a backyard garden.
Her movements were calm and relaxed, completely at ease in the treacherous terrain.
This caught the Third Hokage off guard—and deepened his interest.
Even more surprising was her lineage: she appeared to be the first known bloodline-limit user in the history of the Aburame clan.
It was hard to predict how far she could go beyond her family's quiet legacy—but the potential was there.
Surpassing the First Hokage was unrealistic, but if she could even reach—or surpass—Hiruzen's own level, she would more than justify today's gamble.
Already, she had exceeded expectations. Her future was bright.
And yet… there was something about her behavior that continued to puzzle him.
What was the point of coming all the way out here just to stare at bugs instead of training properly?
It had been a full week, and the Third Hokage still couldn't figure it out. So, he decided to see for himself.
That day, the surveillance that had been following her since the end of the exam vanished early.
Unusual, but Maki didn't mind. She'd already gone a week without visiting her secret base to play with her little "cuties"—what was one more day?
The experiments hadn't stopped. Things were just a bit inconvenient, especially the genetic mutations that required her direct guidance.
She didn't go home early either. If her mother asked why she was back sooner than usual, it might raise questions—questions that could expose too much.
Lost in thought, mulling over her experiments, Maki was suddenly interrupted by a gust of wind from behind.
Without hesitation, her insects exploded into motion, intercepting a flying shuriken mid-air and forcing it to stop.
"Kid, your bugs are terrifying."
As a seasoned master of ninjutsu, Hiruzen Sarutobi was familiar with nearly every jutsu in Konoha—and most of the ninja world.
The Aburame clan, by design, needed to command their insects for both offense and defense. The insects themselves lacked consciousness. In theory, if someone attacked without warning, an Aburame wouldn't be able to react in time.
So how had this girl sensed him?
It couldn't have been her bugs—they didn't move on their own. They were like living machines, requiring explicit commands.
That meant only one thing: Maki had detected his approach on her own.
This entire forest was teeming with her insects. To her, it was like walking through a backyard garden.
The scary thing wasn't the insects—it was Maki.
Hearing the voice, Maki turned around to look at the intruder.
He wore ANBU gear and a forehead protector from another village.
She tilted her head, frowning in confusion.
"…Are you stupid?"
"Huh?" Hiruzen blinked, caught off guard by the blunt question.
"There's no way a ninja from another village could sneak into Konoha so easily," Maki said, crossing her arms. "You're obviously someone Tsunade sent to take revenge."
Of course, she didn't believe that.
Smart kid, Hiruzen thought. Even if her guess is wrong, her logic isn't.
"I'm actually a spy hiding in Konoha!" he declared dramatically.
Maki sighed. "Then why are you still wearing your forehead protector? What kind of spy wants to get caught?"
"To start a war, of course!" Hiruzen shouted with mock excitement.
"Please." Maki rolled her eyes. "I'm not important enough to start a war over, idiot. If you want to be useful, go see Tsunade—the Princess of Konoha lives that way."
She pointed toward her own home.
Hiruzen's mouth twitched.
Is lying just second nature to girls like this? She says it so naturally… What was I even doing at her age?
"What a shame," he said, smirking. "Now that you've seen my true identity… I can't let you live."
He drew a kunai, eyes locked on Maki.
She stared back, completely unfazed.
"Aren't you going to pull out a weapon?"
"No."
Such a blunt, casual answer.
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. "Then… go to hell!"
He hurled the kunai with force.
The swarm surged up again, engulfing the weapon mid-flight. Maki didn't even raise a hand. No seals, no effort.
Just like before, the kunai stopped cold in the mass of buzzing insects.
Hiruzen's eye twitched. He'd already witnessed it once, but seeing it again—with zero hand signs—was still deeply unsettling.
What kind of monster is this girl…?
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