The first rays of morning sunlight had only just begun to crawl over the roof of the Ninja Academy when the silence of the faculty office was shattered by a loud bang.
The poor wooden door flew open so hard it nearly hit the wall.
A small girl marched in like a storm.
Uchiha Tsukiko strode straight to the desk of the chunin teacher on duty, slammed a wrinkled form onto the table, and planted both hands on her hips.
"I want to apply for early graduation," she declared. "Right now. Immediately."
The chunin teacher had still been half asleep only a moment before. He had been yawning, rubbing his eyes, and preparing himself for another ordinary day of dealing with noisy children.
Now he was fully awake.
He stared at the little Uchiha girl standing before him. She was only six years old and barely tall enough to properly loom over his desk, but the look in her eyes made it clear that if he refused, she might actually tear the office apart out of pure stubbornness.
For a long few seconds, he simply stared.
Then he pushed his glasses back up his nose and asked in a careful voice, "Early graduation?"
Tsukiko nodded once, expression serious.
"Yes. I've already learned everything worth learning here."
That statement alone would have sounded unbearably arrogant coming from anyone else, but the teacher knew exactly who he was dealing with. Uchiha Tsukiko had already built up a reputation in the Academy. She was clever, loud, difficult to control, and had a frightening habit of treating ordinary school lessons like tedious chores beneath her notice.
Trying to argue with her first thing in the morning felt like tempting fate.
So, with the hollow expression of a man who had suddenly decided today was not the day to fight destiny, he picked up the form.
"Fine," he muttered. "We'll test you."
The process moved forward so quickly that Tsukiko almost suspected the teachers wanted her out of the Academy as badly as she wanted to leave.
Not long after, several instructors had gathered on the empty training field as temporary examiners. At first, most of them looked mildly annoyed. Then the test began.
And their expressions changed.
Tsukiko stood in front of the target range with her hands full of shuriken. She did not even bother posing properly. There was no dramatic breath, no careful stance, no visible hesitation. She simply flicked her wrist.
Cold flashes sliced through the air.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sounds came so close together they might as well have been one.
Every single shuriken struck dead center.
Not near the bullseye.
Not around it.
Directly through it.
The metal rings of the shuriken still trembled as the proctor stared with his mouth slightly open.
"Shurikenjutsu…" he said blankly, then swallowed. "Perfect score."
Next came the Three Basic Jutsu.
Before the examiner could properly finish announcing the test, Tsukiko had already completed the hand seals. A cloud of white smoke burst around her, and three identical Tsukikos appeared on the field at once, each one crossing their arms and looking equally impatient.
"Can we move this along?" all three said at the same time. "I have things to do."
One teacher almost dropped his clipboard.
The transformation was flawless. The clone technique was stable. The substitution was even cleaner.
By the time they reached taijutsu, the chunin responsible had clearly decided he needed to reassert some authority. He stepped onto the field with a stern expression, ready to teach this overconfident little girl some humility.
He barely had time to settle into his stance.
Tsukiko blurred forward.
Her fist stopped a hair's breadth from the tip of his nose.
The chunin froze.
There was no joke in that strike. No hesitation. No wasted motion.
If she had wanted to hit him, she would have.
The field went silent.
The teachers stared at the girl, then at each other, then back at the sheets in their hands. Whatever lingering resistance they had to her request vanished on the spot.
Not long after, a brand-new Konoha forehead protector and an official graduation certificate were placed in Tsukiko's hands.
Just like that, she became a genin.
The moment the headband touched her fingers, Tsukiko's face lit up. She tied it to her forehead in a quick, careless motion that pushed back her dark hair, tucked the certificate under her arm, and turned around without a trace of nostalgia.
No tearful goodbye. No last glance at the Academy.
She practically ran out of the gate.
Because now she had somewhere far more important to be.
At that same time, inside the residence of the Uchiha clan head, Uchiha Itachi was finally enjoying what he hoped would be a peaceful morning.
He knelt neatly by the tea table with a small porcelain cup in his hands. His face, still soft with childhood, carried an expression far too calm for someone his age. After a full year of weekly "special training" at the hands of Tsukiko, he had begun to treasure moments of quiet with the devotion of a monk seeking enlightenment.
Yesterday, she had told him it was over.
No more special training.
No more surprise ambushes.
No more losing his snacks to violence.
Today, surely, would be peaceful.
He lowered his gaze to the tea, gently blowing aside the floating leaves.
Then the front door exploded open.
"Uncle Fugaku!" a voice shouted from the entrance. "Are you home? I have something important to discuss!"
The porcelain cup slipped from Itachi's hands and shattered on the floor.
Tea splashed across the tatami and onto his clothes, but Itachi did not even notice. He turned stiffly toward the entrance, eyes wide with pure alarm.
Standing there in the doorway, full of energy and wearing a newly issued forehead protector, was Uchiha Tsukiko.
She blinked at the broken cup, then at Itachi's expression, and scratched her cheek.
"…What are you doing?" she asked. "Did you set a trap in here? Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?"
Itachi instinctively edged farther back from her.
"Sister Tsukiko," he said carefully, still shaken, "didn't you say the special training was over?"
Before Tsukiko could answer, another door slid open inside the house.
Uchiha Fugaku stepped out, wearing the same stern expression he always seemed to have. Behind him came Tsukiko's adoptive father, Uchiha Iwao, who had apparently been visiting and now looked equally startled by the noise.
Fugaku's sharp gaze swept across the room, taking in the shattered cup, the tense posture of his son, and finally the forehead protector on Tsukiko's head.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Tsukiko," he said. "The headband… is that real?"
Iwao stared even harder. He hurried forward, looking as though he was half convinced his daughter had stolen it from a stall or taken it off some poor genin in the street.
"You little menace," he barked. "What is this? Didn't you leave for school this morning? Where did that come from? Don't tell me you—"
"Stop right there, old man," Tsukiko said, dodging his reaching hand. She pulled out the stamped graduation certificate and slapped it into his chest. "I passed the exam. Officially. Legitimately. The teachers wanted me gone before I terrorized the school any further."
Iwao caught the paper and looked down at it.
Then he looked again.
And then a third time.
His expression shifted rapidly from disbelief to confusion to reluctant pride. He turned the paper over as if expecting to find some joke written on the back.
"Straight A marks…" he muttered. "Early graduation approved…"
Then his face hardened again.
"You're only six," he said sharply. "Why graduate so early? The Academy is for building a proper foundation. What are you going to do now? Chase cats for D-rank missions?"
"What's wrong with chasing cats?" Tsukiko demanded, puffing out her chest. "That's still serving the village."
Then her tone changed.
She stepped around her father, faced Fugaku directly, and straightened up with all the seriousness she could force into her small frame.
"More importantly," she said, voice suddenly filled with determination, "I heard the Military Police Force is short on manpower lately. I'm an Uchiha. I've grown up under the clan's protection. If the clan needs help, then I should do my part. So I've made up my mind."
She pointed at herself.
"I want to join the Military Police Force. Even if I start by serving tea or carrying papers, I want in."
For a moment, the room fell quiet.
Even Itachi forgot to be afraid.
He looked at Tsukiko with stunned admiration. Until now, he had mostly known her as the terrifying older girl who appeared out of nowhere to beat him into the ground and lecture him about youth, battle readiness, or the dangers of eating dumplings at the wrong time.
But now she looked different.
Passionate.
Serious.
Almost noble.
Fugaku studied her for several seconds. Slowly, some of the cold sharpness in his face softened.
The Military Police Force truly was short on people. Much of the work was thankless, and not many of the clan's promising young members dreamed of spending their days patrolling streets and handling disputes.
A six-year-old early graduate was unusual.
A talented one was even more valuable.
"Having that kind of heart is admirable," Fugaku said at last. "You are young, but passing the graduation exam early proves you have talent. And the Military Police Force would be safer than sending you outside the village for missions."
Iwao nearly choked.
"Clan Head," he said quickly, "with respect, this girl's personality is a disaster waiting to happen. The Military Police Force requires discipline. I'm worried she'll create trouble instead of solving it."
Tsukiko immediately threw up a crooked salute.
"I'm very disciplined!" she protested. "Just let me in and I'll follow every order. I'll make you proud, old man."
As she spoke, she kept throwing desperate little looks at Fugaku that clearly said, "Please approve this before he ruins everything."
Fugaku considered it a little longer.
Then he nodded.
"It's settled. Iwao, take her to the station and complete the procedures. Because of her age, she will only serve as an intern under your supervision for now. She will handle paperwork and simple patrol duties. She is not to participate in dangerous operations unless I personally allow it."
Tsukiko nearly jumped on the spot.
It worked.
"As ordered!" she said brightly.
Iwao dragged a hand down his face, already exhausted.
"You little troublemaker," he muttered, rubbing her head roughly. "If you embarrass me at the station, don't expect mercy."
Tsukiko grinned shamelessly and hugged his leg.
"Hehe. Dad, you're the best."
Then she turned toward Itachi, who still stood near the tea table looking deeply uncertain about life.
"Itachi!" she said proudly. "From today onward, your big sister is a member of the Military Police Force. If anyone bullies you or steals your dumplings, just tell me. I'll arrest them personally."
Itachi stared at her, still haunted by instinctive suspicion.
"Congratulations, Sister Tsukiko," he said politely. Then, after a pause, he added in a small voice, "But next time… could you please knock before entering?"
Tsukiko waved a hand. "Sure, sure. I'll remember next time."
With that, she marched out of the house dragging her weary father behind her.
Once they were gone, Fugaku glanced at the spilled tea on the floor, then turned to his son.
"What do you think of Tsukiko?" he asked.
Itachi was silent for a while.
At last, he answered honestly.
"Sister Tsukiko is… very energetic."
He hesitated.
"And very unusual."
Fugaku nodded but said nothing more. He only turned his gaze toward the courtyard, thoughtful and distant.
Meanwhile, Tsukiko strode beside her father through the streets of the compound with enough energy to light the whole district by herself.
Inside her head, thoughts were moving even faster than her feet.
This was it.
Her first real step.
Once she got into the Military Police Force, she would finally have a legitimate path into the center of village events. That meant proximity. Access. Timing. All the things she needed if she wanted to intervene in the future.
By the time they reached the station, Tsukiko's mind was already racing through possible ways to get closer to the Hokage's household.
The interior of the Military Police Force building was exactly what she expected and exactly what she didn't want to smell ever again.
The duty room was thick with the stale scent of tobacco, instant noodles, and long hours. Several older officers sat slouched in their seats, staring at the mission board with expressions of varying boredom and disgust.
Pinned among the more respectable-looking assignments was one lonely, crumpled request sheet that looked as though everyone had deliberately ignored it.
Tsukiko's eyes landed on it at once.
D-Rank Mission: Deep cleaning assistance at the Fourth Hokage's residence. Objective: remove rodents and cockroaches.
One of the older men holding a tea mug snorted.
"That thing's been there for three days," he said. "Working at the Hokage's residence sounds honorable until you realize it means crawling around after rats. We're the Uchiha, not janitors."
Another officer made a face.
"And I heard Lady Kushina is terrifying when she gets angry."
The moment those words left his mouth, Tsukiko slapped her hand onto the mission form.
"I'll take it."
The room turned silent.
She snatched the paper off the board as if it were a priceless treasure and tucked it carefully into her pouch. Her brand-new intern armband slipped slightly down her arm because it was too big, but she did not care.
This was no filthy cleaning task.
This was opportunity.
The chunin handling registration stared at her as if he were watching a tiny hero march willingly into a death trap. Still, after a few seconds, he stamped the paperwork.
Ten minutes later, Tsukiko stood in front of the Fourth Hokage's residence.
She adjusted her forehead protector, straightened herself, and prepared to put on the most respectful and charming smile she could manage.
Before she could knock, a crash thundered from inside the house.
Then came a woman's furious voice.
"Stop running, you little thief!"
Tsukiko blinked once.
Then she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
What she saw looked less like a Hokage's home and more like a battlefield.
Cushions were overturned. A vase was teetering dangerously. A fat gray rat shot through the living room like a veteran escape artist. And in the center of the chaos stood Uzumaki Kushina, holding a frying pan like a weapon of judgment.
Her long red hair was flying wildly behind her, and her entire body radiated violent energy.
Tsukiko stared.
Kushina turned, still panting, frying pan in hand.
For one brief second, Tsukiko forgot every carefully prepared word in her mind.
Then she stepped forward quickly and said, "I'm here from the Military Police Force. Please leave this to me."
Kushina looked shocked, then relieved.
The rat darted under a rug.
Tsukiko's eyes sharpened.
Tracking a rat with Sharingan-enhanced vision was almost unfair. Every twitch, every tiny movement, every shift beneath the fabric was obvious to her.
"There," she said.
She lunged.
A slipper near the entryway came up into her hand in one smooth motion. The rat burst from beneath the rug, aiming for freedom.
Tsukiko threw.
The slipper cut through the air like a thrown blade.
Smack.
The rat flipped over dramatically and crashed into the wall, stunned into complete defeat.
The room fell silent.
Kushina blinked at the motionless rodent, then at the little girl standing there dusting off her hands like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Then her whole face lit up.
"That was amazing!" she said, dropping the frying pan and hurrying over with bright eyes. "You're with the Military Police Force? That throw was incredible!"
Tsukiko scratched her cheek, trying to look modest and well-behaved.
"It was nothing," she said. "I'm an Uchiha. We're good at throwing things."
Kushina laughed, warm and bright, and the room suddenly felt much friendlier.
And Tsukiko, standing there in the middle of her first step into the Hokage's world, knew one thing with absolute certainty.
Her future had just moved one step closer.