Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

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Three days after the end of the Chunin Exams, the daimyo from the various nations finally departed Konoha.

For the smaller countries bordering the Land of Fire, Konoha even assigned Jonin squads as escorts—these dignitaries had only just been secured as patrons, and letting one die on the road would mean another round of exhausting political negotiations.

Only the Land of Fire’s daimyo remained within the village.

With the departure of the foreign delegates, Konoha’s barrier system returned to full operation, and the village finally regained its usual rhythm.

Under normal circumstances, with the flow of outsiders decreasing, the daily workload of the police force should have lightened as well. As captain, Fugaku could—under other circumstances—have enjoyed a rare moment of peace, perhaps quietly feeding fish in his garden.

But the Ninja Academy situation had completely crushed any hope of tranquility.

Since word had spread that the Academy would open positions to Uchiha candidates, Fugaku’s home had turned into a revolving door. Clansmen came in waves, asking for details, procedures, requirements, and anything else they could think of.

Fugaku had even gone to the Administrative Department to retrieve past recruitment standards and documentation.

Yet even with that preparation, the inquiries did not stop.

As the head of a great clan, Fugaku could not simply close his door in their faces. He had to respond—politely, patiently—even if he himself had no authority over the matter.

Privately, he found himself thinking something he never thought he would:

Perhaps Itachi has more influence over this matter than I do.

This thought surfaced again when he stepped—for the second time—into the old Senju estate in the western outskirts.

Itachi had delivered a message: Roshi wanted to speak with him personally.

As Clan Head and captain of the Police Force, visiting an ordinary Jonin should not have been necessary. Yet here he was—because that ”ordinary Jonin” had accomplished something Fugaku never could.

Opening a large number of Anbu positions to the Uchiha.

Creating avenues for Uchiha to enter other departments of the Village.

Shattering a deadlock that had lasted for decades.

Faced with such results, Fugaku could only humble himself.

”Itachi has applied to join Anbu,” Roshi said calmly. ”I’ve spoken to him. I believe he’s suitable.”

Itachi applied… without telling me?

Fugaku glanced at his eldest son beside him. There was no guilt or apology in Itachi’s expression—only calm resolve.

Still, Itachi was his son. If the Uchiha were to send more members into Anbu, it made perfect sense that the clan heir would lead by example.

Fugaku gave a silent nod.

”As for the other three Uchiha candidates who will enter Anbu at the same time,” Roshi continued, ”I want Itachi to be the one to select them.”

Itachi choosing?

That meant… the new squad’s captain would be—

Yes. With his son’s strength and talent, this arrangement was completely logical.

Fugaku nodded again, more firmly this time.

”Regarding the Ninja Academy teaching positions,” Roshi shifted topics smoothly, ”I assume you’ve already notified the clan?”

”Yes, it has been announced—”

Fugaku saw this as the perfect opportunity to inquire further—about assessment criteria, whether there would be internal recommendation rights, how many positions were available… all the questions his clansmen had been flooding him with.

He opened his mouth—

Roshi didn’t give Fugaku the chance to speak.

”The Administrative Department has already compiled detailed materials on the recruitment process and the expanded written examination scope. When the time comes, Itachi can pick them up.”

”I…” Fugaku opened his mouth—he had already made inquiries at the Administrative Department.

But Roshi’s next words cut him off cleanly, as if he had anticipated the interruption.

”They’ve just finalized additional written test sections and the scoring criteria for the practical examination. None of that was available before.”

Fugaku swallowed the explanation he was about to give.

A subtle pressure weighed on him—Roshi controlled the rhythm of the conversation too easily, as if the entire discussion were moving to his tempo.

”Next,” Roshi continued, ”is the matter of the four non-Uchiha slots in the Police Force.”

”Can this be implemented?”

Fugaku fell silent for a long moment before finally nodding.

”I hope,” Roshi said, his tone calm but carrying unmistakable weight, ”that there will be no backlash within the clan. Lady Tsunade and I have spent considerable effort shaping a future that allows the Uchiha to move forward.”

”Now it is time for you, as Clan Head, to demonstrate courage and initiative.”

He looked directly at Fugaku.

”If you feel you cannot guarantee internal stability… or foresee resistance you cannot overcome, then say so now.”

”I will prepare another method to ensure the reforms proceed.”

Fugaku’s eyes sharpened.

The crimson glow of the Sharingan flared into existence—three tomoe spinning with clear hostility.

But Roshi met that gaze with steady, unblinking black eyes.

”At a moment when the reforms are beginning to bear fruit, I do not want you to become the obstacle, Uchiha Fugaku.”

”In one week, the Village will officially transfer four Hyuga members into the Police Force. Prepare their assignments.”

With that, Roshi rose and left without looking back.

The room fell into a long, oppressive silence.

The Sharingan faded from Fugaku’s eyes. He turned toward his son, emotions conflicted and turbulent beneath his calm facade.

”Itachi, you…”

He tried to speak—wanted to ask for his son’s thoughts, his reasons for joining Anbu, his opinion of Roshi’s pressure.

But he froze.

Because Itachi looked up at him, and in his eyes, the three tomoe of the Sharingan turned slowly—resolved and unwavering.

Father and son sat only a few paces apart, yet the silence between them was suffocating the father.

Fugaku finally asked in a low voice, ”Have you decided to walk the path he’s shown?”

Itachi answered without hesitation.

”Everything I’ve witnessed tells me that what Captain Roshi is doing is the best course for the Uchiha right now.”

”You’ve also seen what the majority of our clansmen truly hope for.”

It was the first time Fugaku had ever heard his son so openly declare a stance that diverged from his own.

The village’s goodwill, the mounting pressure, and even his son’s position… all combined into one undeniable conclusion:

Fugaku had no other road left to walk.

Perhaps… if words would not move the stubborn remnants of the clan, then only the power of these eyes could.

Fugaku said nothing more. He stood, turned, and left the Senju residence alone.

Itachi remained.

In the kitchen of the old Senju house, the mood was entirely different from the heavy talk in the reception room.

Roshi—who had just forced one of the village’s most powerful clan heads into a corner—was now calmly preparing dinner with Anko, as if nothing had happened.

During the Chunin Exams, because of the influx of nobles and merchants, the village had stocked rare ingredients, including precious snow crabs imported from the Land of Snow. Roshi had bought several… and was currently arranging a snow crab hot pot.

Itachi slipped into the kitchen quietly, rolled up his sleeves, and began assisting with the ingredients.

Anko, chopping tofu and mushrooms, eventually couldn’t hold back her curiosity.

”So Itachi,” she asked, glancing between him and Roshi, ”you really decided to join Anbu?”

”Yes, Anko-senpai,” Itachi replied smoothly, never pausing his prep.

”Then… does that mean Team 5 is disbanding?”

Anko glanced anxiously at Roshi.

”It won’t disband,” Roshi said.

Not yet—not until Anko reached Special Jonin. After that, their team would still operate, but with temporary additions depending on missions. This was the natural flow of Konoha’s Jonin-led squads. Growth and change were inevitable for every ninja’s career.

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