"It's graduation season again already? Damn, time really flies."
"Yeah. But this year's a little different, huh?"
"How so?"
"Are you kidding? This is the same year that Uzumaki Naruto—the youngest Jōnin in history—graduated! In a blink, his whole generation grew up. Some of those kids out there might even end up training under him. Isn't that wild?"
"Heh, you're right. Uzumaki Naruto—Konoha's golden boy. He's even more popular than the Fourth Hokage was back in his day."
"More than popular! That guy's practically a legend. 'The Smiling Devil,' 'The Ninjutsu Cannon,' 'The Ninjutsu Machine Gun,' 'The Ninjutsu Mangekyō'—he's got more nicknames than titles in the archives. How are the rest of us supposed to compete?"
Konoha Village was buzzing with energy.
The annual ninja academy graduation was always a big deal, but this year, the excitement wasn't about the students—it was about Naruto Uzumaki.
At only twelve, the Third Hokage had officially promoted him to Jōnin, joining the elite ranks alongside his own former teacher, Kakashi Hatake, who'd achieved the same at a young age.
And not a single voice in the village disagreed.
Not one whisper of protest.
Everyone—civilians, shinobi, even the old guard—accepted it without question.
Because how could they not?
Naruto's record spoke for itself.
At seven, he graduated early from the Academy.
That same year, he defeated a Cloud Jōnin and was promoted to Chūnin.
At eight, he completed an S-rank mission—solo—against three Rock Jōnin.
They called him the Ninjutsu Cannon after that battle.
The three Rock elites, known for their legendary defense, were buried alive under a barrage of explosive chakra firepower that shattered nine consecutive earth walls.
At nine, he faced four of the Mist's Seven Ninja Swordsmen—Kisame Hoshigaki, the Pufferfish brothers, Kurosame, and Raiga Kurosuki.
Four elite Jōnin fled in terror after being overwhelmed by a wall of searing flame that turned the battlefield into a wasteland.
At ten, he fought the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa.
A single Wind Release: Rasenshuriken ripped through the Kazekage's golden sand defense and nearly flattened the man entirely.
The Fourth fled, injured and humiliated—becoming the first Kage in history to lose to Naruto Uzumaki.
At eleven, and again at twelve, his name echoed across every nation.
Even the Fourth Raikage himself—after fighting Naruto to a standstill—had admitted privately,
"If that battle had continued, I would have lost."
Because no one could keep up with the boy who turned jutsu into artillery.
Every technique was a cannonball—relentless, merciless, and fast enough to make lightning itself hesitate.
If the fight dragged on, no one—not even Raikage—could stand against his onslaught.
And so, his promotion to Jōnin wasn't a gift. It was inevitable.
"Time flies, doesn't it?"
From the high platform, the aged Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, gazed down at Naruto with soft pride.
Over the past five years, Naruto had been more than a prodigy—he'd become the beating heart of Konoha itself.
His energy had awakened something in the village:
Students pushed harder.
Young shinobi graduated earlier.
The Will of Fire, once dimmed, was burning again.
Konoha was alive—peaceful, prosperous, and full of promise.
Even the political storms that once haunted the village had settled; Danzo was gone, and for the first time in decades, peace actually felt real.
And Hiruzen's own influence, which had waned after Danzo's fall, had quietly returned with the village's newfound glory.
He smiled faintly.
"Give it four or five more years," he thought, "and I'll pass the Hokage's mantle to him."
Because everyone knew it.
Whether they said it aloud or not, Naruto Uzumaki was Konoha's next Hokage.
He had the power, the brains, and—most importantly—the heart.
Strength, charisma, wisdom, compassion—Naruto embodied all of it.
When the day came, the transition would be seamless.
Hiruzen cleared his throat and raised his voice.
"Today," he declared, "as the Third Hokage of Konohagakure, I hereby recognize and honor the extraordinary service and courage of Uzumaki Naruto, who is henceforth promoted to the rank of Jōnin!"
The crowd roared.
"The Will of Fire burns brighter through every generation," Hiruzen continued, his voice swelling with passion. "Where the leaves dance, the fire shall bloom. From that fire, new leaves shall sprout—and today, one of those leaves stands before us, ready to carry that flame into the future!"
The applause shook the square.
Younger shinobi beamed with admiration, their eyes full of awe and ambition.
Naruto stood on the stage with his trademark grin—confident, calm, a little amused.
He nodded through the speech, pretending to listen, while his mind wandered elsewhere.
He'd heard Hiruzen's Will of Fire sermon so many times, he could've recited it himself by now.
"Ahhh, Naruto-kun looks so handsome!"
Down below, Hinata Hyūga, now a graceful young woman, pressed her flushed face into her hands, eyes sparkling like twin stars.
"Seriously, Hinata? You've been swooning over him for years. Don't you ever get tired?"
Beside her, Haruno Sakura groaned, arms crossed, her red dress fluttering in the wind.
Her eyes, however, drifted toward Uchiha Sasuke, who stood nearby in his black Chunin vest, stoic as ever.
He'd become a quiet powerhouse—an Elite Chūnin with the strength to rival full Jōnin.
Sakura had graduated early herself, but compared to him, she still felt light-years behind.
She sighed softly.
"How could I ever get tired?" Hinata murmured dreamily. "Naruto-kun just keeps getting stronger… and more handsome every year. I could stare at him forever."
"Ugh, you're hopeless," Sakura muttered.
"Hopelessly lucky, maybe," Ino chimed in from behind them. "You've had your eyes on him since you were kids! I swear, Hinata, you've won the jackpot."
All three girls turned to the stage.
Naruto stood tall, golden hair glinting in the sunlight, his blue eyes bright with warmth and confidence.
He looked like he'd been carved from sunlight itself.
And across the village, countless other girls—and more than a few shinobi—watched him the same way.
He wasn't just strong.
He radiated something—hope, maybe, or the quiet certainty that no matter how bad things got, he'd be there to fix them.
"Man…" Shikamaru groaned from the sidelines, hands in his pockets. "Naruto's really doing it, huh? Step by step, right to the top. It's so troublesome."
He shot a lazy glance at his friends—Chōji, Kiba, Shino, Ino—all of them either newly minted Chūnin or graduates who'd pushed themselves early.
"Because of him," Shikamaru muttered, "we've all been dragged along. No rest, no naps, no peace. Just mission after mission after mission."
But even as he complained, he couldn't hide a small smirk.
Naruto Uzumaki had done what no one else could—
He'd inspired an entire generation to chase him.
He wasn't just the youngest Jōnin.
He wasn't just the hero of Konoha.
He was the standard now—
The King of the Konoha Scrolls.
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