Reborn as a Yamanaka Genius

HIRUZEN SARUTOBI 

I am tired.

The kind of tired that does not fade with a night's rest. It weighs in my bones, seeps into every crevice of my body. A fatigue that comes from carrying this village on my back for more years than I care to count.

I feel it with every breath, a reminder that I am now an old man in a young man's world. A relic of old times past.

The Third War has dragged on for four years now. Four years of blood and sacrifice and death. Of watching Konoha's children grow up too fast and die even faster.

When I became Hokage, I thought I could protect them—my people, my students, this village. I thought I could bear the weight of their dreams. I was foolish.

My students, my three precious students—Jiraiya, Tsunade, Orochimaru. Each one of them reflects a piece of me, and each one has become a reminder of my failures.

Jiraiya, the eccentric one, the one who concocted a mask of frivolity and perverseness so others would underestimate him and his genius. Always chasing some sense of ideology he can never quite grasp.

I used to envy his spirit, his boundless… curiosity. But now I wonder if he's just running away, leaving a trail of his fear, and ignored trauma. Sometimes, I fear that, like him, I've spent my life chasing after things that are never meant to be caught.

And Tsunade. She carries more weight on her shoulders than anyone should have to bear. The war took her brother, Nawaki, and then it took her lover, Dan. It took her faith, too, though she'd never admit it.

After the Second War, I used to see her in the shadows sometimes, wandering into the village casinos like a ghost, drinking alcohol like an addict. All things considered, she probably was now, though she hid it well.

She would look at me—with those deep hazel eyes—and I'm sure she saw all the things I couldn't protect. I wonder if she blames me, if she knows how often I blame myself.

Tsunade has always been the strongest konochi, but even the strongest can break. I'm sure she's reached that point long ago. I wish I could reach out to her, but what would I say? Sorry for your loss? Sorry for failing you as your sensi?

I've lost enough of my own family and friends to understand that words are empty comforts.

And then there's Orochimaru.

Brilliant, driven, cold. My pride—or at least used to be. He was the brightest star among the three. A prodigy who saw everything as a puzzle to be solved. But now, when I look at him, I see a darkness that I can't seem to reach. A darkness I'm not sure I'm equipped to enter.

I watched him grow from a promising young ninja into something… else. Something I can't understand, let alone control. Not anymore. He's the one who makes me wonder if I've made a mistake. If, by nurturing his genius, turning a blind eye to some of his more… elusive pastimes, I've fed a monster that will one day turn on us all.

It's not the enemy outside these walls that keeps me awake at night. It's the enemies within, the ones I failed to understand or save. The ones I may have created.

This war has taken its toll on us all.

Konoha bleeds while the other villages circle like vultures, waiting for the right moment to strike. Parasites, the lot of them.

I tell myself that I fight for peace, for the future, for a world where children can grow up without learning to kill. But I know it's a lie. There's no such thing as peace. Not for men like me, at least.

I have too much blood on my hands, and I don't know if any amount of time will ever wash them clean.

But I can't think that way. Not now. The Academy is about to start its next term, and those children—the next generation—they'll be looking to me today. They will see me as the strong, unbreakable Hokage, the man who guards the village with an iron will.

They can't see the doubt, the fear, the exhaustion. They have to believe that the future is worth fighting for, even if I'm not so sure of it myself.

There are a couple of knocks on my door, a code I'm well familiar with. I flare my chakra in acknowledgment, and the door creeks open.

An ANBU appears, her mask gleaming from the rays of sunlight that peek through the window behind me. She moves silently, a shadow, but I know her by the way she carries herself.

She bows slightly, a formality neither of us really needs, but tradition is the glue that holds the village together, so glue it shall remain.

"Hokage-sama," she says, her voice neutral, as if she could be any of the countless people living within this village. "The Academy ceremony is scheduled to begin in thirty minutes. Your speaking slot is confirmed."

I nod, acknowledging her. For a moment, I consider asking her how she feels, what she thinks of these back-to-back wars and the children we're about to send into it. But I already know the answer.

She is a soldier. She does what she's told because that is what it means to be a shinobi of Konoha. We all bear our burdens quietly. We all wear our masks.

"Thank you. I'll be there shortly," I say instead, and she disappears as swiftly as she came, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.

I take a puff from my kiseru, a new blend of tobacco Biwako gifted me for my birthday last week, a day that came and went like all the others. It's sweet, calming.

I'll have to remember to thank her—I'm sure this wasn't cheap, not that money will ever be a concern.

Rumors have begun circulating within the village about two up-and-coming geniuses who will join the Academy today.

One, an Uchiha—expected. It wouldn't surprise me if some secret jutsu were passed down in their clan that cultivated genius before birth.

The other... a Yamanaka. Now, that is unexpected.

Uchiha, I can see. Genius is to them as the seasons are to Konoha—frequent. Consistent. But Yamanaka… the last genius to come from that clan was Inoichi, and even his talents pale to the genius seen from the Uchiha.

I lower my gaze to the desk, to the neat stack of profiles. My fingers flip through the pages until I reach the name I'm looking for—Shisui Uchiha.

###

Name: Shisui Uchiha

Age: 5

Birthdate: October 19, Year 54 of Konoha's Establishment

Height: 112 cm

Weight: 17 kg

Parents: Keiichi Uchiha (deceased), Hae Uchiha

Potential Areas of Talent: High potential for unlocking the Sharingan. Known for exceptional skill in taijutsu and shurikenjutsu. Ninjutsu talents unknown, though rumors suggest significant ability waiting to emerge.

###

Shisui Uchiha.

A promising child—almost too promising.

His grandfather, one of my closest friends, someone I trusted with my life, was a man I respected deeply. A rare Uchiha whose loyalty to the village was unwavering.

His death was not just to his clan but to Konoha itself. And now his son stands to carry that same legacy.

The boy has already shown an unusual level of intelligence for his age, along with an inherent talent for taijutsu and shurikenjutsu that rivals children several years older.

And then there's the Sharingan.

There's always the Sharingan. Looming like a shadow over any Uchiha.

It grants great power but demands a heavy price—Kagami has told me all about it. I've seen too many children like Shisui who are pushed into greatness before they are ready, all because of that cursed gift.

The potential is there, but potential can be a dangerous thing in the hands of the young.

I sigh, close Shisui's profile, and flip to the next.

###

Name: Satoshi Yamanaka

Age: 5

Birthdate: October 19, Year 54 of Konoha's Establishment

Height: 113 cm

Weight: 18 kg

Parents: Inoichi Yamanaka, Aiko Yamanaka

Potential Areas of Talent: Unknown. Rumored to be highly intelligent, though information about Satoshi is sparse. Noted for exceptional artistic talent, evidenced by paintings commissioned by the Akimichi and Nara matriarchs. Other areas of potential remain unclear at this time.

###

Satoshi Yamanaka.

My brow furrows slightly as I stare at the page. There's so little here, almost deliberately so. It's as if the Yamanaka have closed ranks around the boy, keeping any knowledge about him, his abilities, his progress, tightly guarded.

I understand the instinct, especially from Inochi. He's always shown signs of being protective, but this level of secrecy… it's curious.

Rumors, however, have a way of slipping through even the most well-guarded walls. The whispers paint a picture of a boy far beyond his years.

A sharp intellect and a savant when it comes to painting. The Akimichi and Nara matriarchs, both known for their discerning tastes, have openly praised his work.

But that's where the information ends.

I—the village, has nothing concrete on his combat abilities, skills, or any signs of what kind of shinobi he might be. It's rare, especially for someone entering the Academy at this age, to be so much of an enigma. And that, in itself, is unsettling.

I tap my finger on the page, pondering.

The Yamanaka have always been a clan of subtly, of finesse. And their new clan jutsu, Whisper, they call it... the strategic advantages it has given us have been insurmountable, to say the least. Their jutsu relies on the mind, on control, and perhaps that's where Satoshi's true potential lies. 

But it's rare, exceedingly rare, for a Yamanaka to be spoken of in the same breath as the Uchiha when it comes to genius.

The room is quiet, save for the soft rustle of paper as I close the profiles. Two children, born on the same day. Both prodigies in their own way.

Shisui, the expected genius. Satoshi, the unexpected… mystery.

I stand, feeling the weight of the Hokage's robes settle over my shoulders. They feel heavier than they used to, as if they, too, carry the weight of every life lost, every decision made.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Today, I'll put on the mask again. Today, like every other day, I'll be the Hokage they need me to be.

Outside the window, the village is waking up. Children laugh, the few merchants that dare to travel during this warring time shout, and the scent of fresh bread drifts through the cracked window of my office.

For a moment, it almost feels like peace.

But I know better.

The cycle continues, and the wheel keeps turning.

And I with it.

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[A/N] POV from old pal Hiruzen. I've always liked seeing the internal thoughts of other characters. It makes the story feel... more alive. It might just be me, though. Hope you enjoyed.

The next chapter is coming up in a few minutes. ;) You're welcome.