A few days later, in the afternoon, at Konoha's First Training Ground.
Bright sunlight draped over the green grass and the clear river like a layer of golden silk.
The breeze carried a faint chill, rustling the leaves as it passed.
Senju Mori lounged lazily against a large wooden stake.
He was not wearing his white Hokage robes or hat today, but instead a deep, elegant everyday outfit.
Only a Hokage insecure in his position would insist on wearing the symbolic robes all day.
For the Senju Mori of today, there was no longer any need for that.
Outside of his normal clothes, he wore a jet-black silk haori.
The fabric was soft, catching a subtle sheen under the sunlight.
It carried no ornate patterns—only a simple emblem stitched in blue thread across the back: the crest of the Senju clan.
After the war with Kumogakure, having firmly established his authority as the Third Hokage through undeniable military achievements, Senju Mori had finally freed up some spare time.
He had just ordered the ANBU to deliver the first summons to the three disciples officially taken under his wing—disciples whom he had never personally taught even once.
Senju Mori was very satisfied with these three he had chosen.
Even ignoring the political and symbolic significance each represented, their personal potential alone was more than enough.
All three possessed the capacity to grow into the next Hokage—and in the future, they would certainly be able to assist him.
As a teacher, he wasn't exactly a model example.
Since accepting them as pupils, he had only met them once—when Uzumaki Chisawa first arrived in Konoha.
After all, ever since he became Hokage, he had been preoccupied—receiving the Uzumaki clan's allies, mobilizing the war against Kumogakure, negotiating afterward, handling village affairs…
Now, it was finally time for Senju Mori to fulfill his duties as a teacher and as the jonin in charge of his team.
The wait wasn't long. Soon, three small figures appeared within his line of sight.
"Uncle Mori~!"
Tsunade was the first to arrive.
At seven years old, she was at the age of innocence and liveliness, waving excitedly at Senju Mori.
She wore a short, light-azure kimono, with a clear Senju crest embroidered on each sleeve.
Her wide sleeves were rolled up, revealing two healthy, fair little arms.
A small ninja pouch hung at her waist, and she wore the classic blue ninja sandals.
"Thud—!"
With a dull smack, Tsunade immediately crouched down, holding her head.
Only then did Senju Mori's slightly amused voice reach her:
"Call me sensei."
For someone only twenty-two years old, being called uncle was hardly pleasant.
Now he finally had a reason to correct that awkward title.
"Fiiiine…"
Tsunade muttered, puffing her cheeks as she rubbed her forehead.
Soon, the other two arrived at the training ground as well.
Orochimaru stood quietly off to one side.
His long, black hair fell like a waterfall over his shoulders.
His yellow slit-pupiled eyes and purple eye shadow were striking, and together with his unique aura, he looked almost serpentine.
He wore a light-gray kimono, a purple sash tied at the waist, and kept both hands hidden within the wide sleeves of his garment, giving him a somewhat shy appearance.
Hatake Sakumo's attire was the simplest: a short, black, high-collared top paired with dark ninja trousers.
White bandages wrapped around his wrists and ankles, and the same elegant short blade remained strapped to his back.
The three six- or seven-year-old brats, still full of childishness, showed not the slightest hint of the overwhelming presence they would one day have in the shinobi world.
Senju Mori swept his gaze across his three very different disciples, smiling as he spoke:
"Since everyone's here, let's start by introducing yourselves."
"Say anything you like—what you enjoy, what you dislike, your dreams for the future…"
Tsunade immediately puffed out her chest, her voice crisp and bright:
"I'm Tsunade! I love my clan and the village! I don't really dislike anything, and my dream is to become a strong shinobi like Grandpa and Sensei, and protect everyone in the village!"
Senju Mori gave a small nod, then turned his eyes to the white-haired boy beside her.
"My name is Hatake Sakumo. I like training and all sorts of sword techniques. I dislike pointless fighting. My dream is to become a competent shinobi."
Sakumo's small body stood straight and rigid, as though he were reporting for a mission.
Finally, everyone's attention settled on Orochimaru.
Orochimaru's voice was calm, and he seemed to be in a good mood, even wearing a faint smile:
"Orochimaru. I like observing anything interesting. I dislike boring things. My dream is…"
His golden, slit-pupiled eyes shifted slightly, but he didn't continue, as if he had yet to find a precise answer.
His response made Senju Mori raise an eyebrow, but in the end he simply nodded and continued:
"Very good. I see great potential in all of you."
"But in this harsh world of shinobi, no matter how beautiful your ideals, you need sufficient strength to make them a reality."
He took two delicate bells from his sleeve; with a crisp jingling sound, he calmly tied them to his waist one by one.
Then he placed an alarm clock on the wooden stake beside him.
"Before the timer runs out, use any method you can think of to take these two bells from me."