A slow, disbelieving whistle escaped Koharu's lips, a sound utterly at odds with her usual composed demeanor. The young—and let's be honest, still quite beautiful—councillor was shocked.
"Let me see if I have this straight, Hiruzen," she began, her voice a blend of awe and sheer incredulity. "You're telling us that at the age of eight, Azula isn't just at a level where she can hold her own against a fully-fledged Jōnin in a life-or-death scenario for at least a few minutes… but that she could even escape unscathed if it wasn't a life-or-death battle?"
The air in the office felt suddenly heavier. This revelation was the reason Hiruzen had called this discreet meeting with his core advisors—minus Kagami, whose paternal affection for Azula might cloud his judgment, and the perpetually absent Torifu.
After a long, private discussion with Danzō, the Hokage had decided it was time to bring Koharu and Homura into the fold.
Homura, who had been quietly polishing his glasses, now slid them onto his nose, his gaze shifting from Hiruzen's weary face to Danzō's smug, almost triumphant expression.
A complex mix of emotions flickered in Homura's eyes: dawning realization, a touch of fear, and reluctant agreement.
"It appears," Homura said, his voice low and measured, "that your constant… apprehensions… were not entirely unfounded, Danzō. It seems we have all been guilty of profoundly underestimating the child. To think she might one day reach the legendary level of… that man."
A sharp, derisive "Hmph!" erupted from Danzō, a sound that practically screamed 'I told you so.' For once, however, there were no counterarguments, no dismissive waves.
The evidence was too stark. While Danzō's proposed solutions for the 'Azula situation' often veered into the alarmist and extreme, this new information painfully validated his core concern.
Her raw talent was a fact. The only things standing between her and becoming a second coming of Madara Uchiha were the awakening of her Sharingan and the infamous Uchiha temperament.
"This cannot continue, Hiruzen," Koharu interjected, her tone shifting from disbelief to urgency. She swept a hand through the air. "You are a shinobi first, and the Hokage second. You, of all people, understand the brutality of this world. You cannot allow sentiment to soften your resolve. That softening, however well-intentioned, could very well plant the seeds for Konoha's destruction!"
She was speaking in circles, saying everything and nothing at the same time, constrained by the unspoken rules of their politics.
But her fear was genuine, forged in the fires of a harsh life. Koharu had been born during the bloody Warring States Period, thrust into battle alongside her small, vulnerable clan by the age of six.
She hadn't witnessed the earth-shattering duel between the First Hokage and that man—what sane person would let children near such a cataclysm?—but she had visited the Valley of the End afterward.
The place was unrecognizable. It wasn't just a battlefield; it was a monument to power so immense it could redraw the very landscape.
That visceral memory, coupled with the stern warnings from their teachers about the inherent volatility of the Uchiha, convinced her that some threats were best nipped in the bud. Of course, she could never say that aloud, not even in this trusted circle. Some truths were too dangerous to voice directly.
Danzō's single visible eye widened almost imperceptibly. He hadn't expected Koharu to swing so decisively to his side.
Then again, he recalled, she had always been the type to press the panic alert at the first sign of smoke, often before confirming if there was actually a fire. Her support, while welcome, wasn't entirely surprising.
He seized the moment.
"Then see reason, Hiruzen," Danzō pressed, his voice dropping into a persuasive, almost silky tone. "As you know, I am to head the new department for training the village's Anbu. Give Azula to me. Let me mold her. I will channel that terrifying potential, temper her spirit in the fires of loyalty, and forge her into the most powerful weapon Konoha has ever known. A blade dedicated entirely to the Will of Fire."
For a fleeting second, Hiruzen felt a tug of temptation. He truly believed in his friend's ability to instill absolute loyalty in his operatives. It was the very reason he had approved Danzō's new role. The idea of Azula's power being safely harnessed for the village was a seductive one.
But the fantasy shattered instantly.
"Don't be absurd, Danzō," Hiruzen retorted, a dry laugh escaping him.
"Do you truly believe the daughter of Tajima Uchiha and the personal disciple of Mito-sama is some orphan from the streets whom we can reassign on a whim? They barely tolerate my oversight, let alone yours. If I so much as suggested it, every shred of goodwill we've built with the Uchiha and the Senju would evaporate into thin air."
Danzō wasn't surprised by the rejection. Hiruzen's greatest strength—and his most profound weakness—was his desire to avoid direct conflict, especially when it risked alienating powerful figures. So, Danzō's gaze narrowed, his strategy shifting to the next best piece on the board.
"Very well," he conceded, the picture of reluctant understanding. "If the Uchiha prodigy is off the table, then let us secure another asset. Give me Nawaki."
Hiruzen's eyebrows shot up. Danzō pressed his advantage. "You have already taken Tsunade as your disciple. It is only fair. I promise you, I will train the boy rigorously. I will make him so strong that he will become a capable check, a pillar of strength who can stand against Azula if the need ever arises. An insurance policy for the village."
Hiruzen was silent for a long moment, steepling his fingers as he appeared to consider the proposal with great gravity. Finally, he spoke.
"Focus on your new role, Danzō. Prove the effectiveness of your methods with the new Anbu recruits. If you succeed, and if you can personally win Nawaki over and earn his acceptance as a teacher, then I will formally endorse the arrangement."
Outwardly, it was a fair compromise. Inwardly, Hiruzen was already several moves ahead.
He was absolutely certain Nawaki would never become Danzō's disciple. His own students, Jiraiya and Orochimaru, were already being subtly encouraged to befriend the young Senju heir.
By the time Danzō was ready to make his move, Nawaki would likely already be bound to one of them. And if, by some chance, that plan failed?
Well, then perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing for his sometimes-too-rigid friend to form a new bond with the next generation. It was a win-win, so long as he, the Hokage, controlled the board.
...
...
...
Hiruzen Sarutobi's plan was, on paper, a masterpiece of subtle manipulation.
It was a delicately woven web of suggestion and opportunity, the kind of scheme that would have had a normal, emotionally stable person exactly where he wanted them. Flawless logic.
Unfortunately for the Third Hokage, his target wasn't a normal person.
It was Nawaki Senju, a boy whose entire world currently revolved around two things: not being hit by his sister and the daily presence of one Azula Uchiha.
You can't apply cold, political logic to a kid who measures his happiness in hours spent avoiding concussions while playing tag. So, was it normal? Hiruzen's plan never stood a chance.
"Azula-nee!" a voice chirped, slicing through Azula's thoughts. "You promised you would play with me today!"
Nawaki stood before her, looking up with eyes so wide and full of hopeful expectation they could have been classified as a standalone puppy-jutsu.
This kid had her schedule down better than Mito. In his mind, it was a simple equation: Sister Tsunade = scary, liable to use him for impromptu strength training.
Azula-nee = also scary, but in a cool, unpredictable way that usually ended with fun games, provided her mood was more 'amused smirk' than 'scary glare'. The choice was obvious.
As for Azula, well, her mood was… complicated. And the source of this complication was the wriggling, one-year-old baby currently using her arm as a throne.
To understand the depth of her predicament, one had to take a little trip down memory lane—a very long lane that stretched into a previous life on Earth.
Back then, she'd been rolling in cash, thanks to a mind that operated like a rogue fireworks factory: constantly sparking with weird, brilliant, and occasionally dangerous ideas that somehow always made a profit.
Her professional life was golden. Her personal life? Not so much.
A certain… incident involving her father had left her with a profound and lasting disgust for the entire male gender. (And before your mind wanders into the gutter, no, it was nothing like that. It was more of a deep-seated, philosophical revulsion born of his spectacularly slimy character.)
This, naturally, put a serious damper on her romantic prospects.
The idea of a traditional relationship with a man was about as appealing as a root canal, and the concept of having children of her own seemed as likely as her suddenly developing a love for boy bands.
That is, until a certain mischievous girlfriend had expertly, patiently, and utterly unexpectedly seduced her into reconsidering the possibilities of happiness with women.
Then, in a cruelly ironic twist worthy of a bad soap opera, fate had snatched that happiness away in a screech of tires and shattered glass.
Now, reborn as Azula Uchiha, that old disgust had thankfully faded. How could it not when she'd been surrounded from infancy by the likes of the steadfast Tajima and a small army of fiercely protective Uchiha uncles?
Power was the ultimate antiseptic, cleaning away the lingering grime of past trauma.
But some core programming remained. Even as an eight-year-old prodigy with enough chakra to level a small town, her heart still leaned decidedly towards women.
Which meant, unless she planned on getting deeply involved in some sketchy fūinjutsu-based artificial insemination or decided to will a child into existence through sheer force of annoyance (a distinct possibility), motherhood wasn't on her bingo card.
So, feeling a strange, distant pity for the fatherless Nawaki, she'd taken to occasionally overseeing his survival. It was a decent arrangement: she got to practice her long-suffering sighs, and he got a cool, older-ish friend who wouldn't punt him into a river.
Everything was… tolerable.
Then the universe, the eternal comedian, decided to upend the game board. Her mother, of all people, announced she was pregnant.
And thus, Fugaku Uchiha entered the world. (She'd lobbied hard for 'Kishimoto' or, in a moment of inspired irony, 'Naruto,' but her father, in a fit of sentimental respect for a dead comrade, had insisted on the now-inevitable name.)
Which brings us back to the present crisis.
"Come on, little Nawaki," Azula said, her voice a masterclass in feigned cheerfulness. She hoisted the baby in her arms like a slightly damp shield. "How about you play with Fugaku? I'm sure you two will be great friends. He's… portable."
Nawaki peered skeptically at the baby. He knew of Azula's little brother, of course—a mythical creature who was rarely seen outside the Uchiha compound.
But Fugaku, sensing he was being offered as a consolation prize, reacted with the tactical genius that would one day define his leadership of the Uchiha Police Force.
He saw Nawaki not as a potential playmate, but as a rival for his sister's coveted attention. With the speed of a ninja, his tiny hands clenched tighter onto Azula's shirt, his lower lip began to tremble with the force of an approaching earthquake, and he let out a wail that could strip paint.
Azula felt a familiar headache beginning to bloom behind her eyes.
Her original, perfectly crafted plan for the day had been simple: create a Shadow Clone with just enough chakra to lose a few rounds of hide-and-seek to Nawaki, while the real her trained in peace.
But then she'd returned from another exhilarating—and frankly, hilarious—spar with Sakumo Hatake, only to find her parents shoving Fugaku into her arms with a hurried mutter about 'urgent clan business' before vanishing in a swirl of leaves. She was starting to suspect 'urgent clan business' was code for 'a much-needed nap.'
She did, admittedly, have a soft spot for this little brother. He was surprisingly obedient and hadn't yet developed the permanent constipated frown of his future self.
So far, he'd been spared the testing of her iron fist. But as his military-grade wailing hit a new, glass-shattering frequency, and Nawaki looked on with betrayed confusion, Azula mused that 'who knows?' was the most accurate motto for her life. Maybe today was the day for a little… disciplinary training. For everyone.
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
It should be time for another timeskip, ultimately, the reason the last timeskip was short is because I wanted to show her progress and Nawaki and Fugaku who would be like Tobirama and Izuna of her and Tsunade, how many years should be the next timeskip and I would be very pleased if you can give me an idea for something that would make the story spicy before the Uzumaki Clan arc and the Ninja War arc.
Also by the way, I feel three chapters a week is too little, in normal time, I'm receiving about 1000 Powers Stones a week, so I plan to a chapter every 500 power stones, which will make it at least 5 chapters a week but I think it's very likely to reach 1.5k power stones a week, so about 6 chapters a week.
If we can gather more, then I can only add more chapters with tears and smile at the same time, but it should start next week, what do you think?