And just like that, the summer passed in a breeze.
Three young shinobi, bound by sweat, bruises, and quiet trust, spent nearly every day of that summer training together. Each brought something different to the table. Sayaka's explosive power, Tokasu's sharp intellect, and Yuki's relentless mastery of the blade. They taught each other where they could, challenged one another when needed, and formed something that felt almost like a team long before it was ever declared.
Behind the scenes, whispers moved through the corridors of the Hokage's Tower. Project Sannin. It had entered its earliest stages. The three had become the clear front-runners, the right pieces in a long-developing vision. The project would officially begin after the school year. But the foundation was already being laid.
...
Yuki walked through the village that morning, the wind catching in his pale-blue hair. The autumn air had just begun to settle in, crisp and clean, carrying with it the scent of falling leaves and warm food being prepared by vendors.
He'd slept in a bit—it was, after all, the first day of his third year at the academy. For once, he decided to skip his usual morning training. A fresh start didn't need sweat and strain; it needed clarity. And today, there was no anxiety humming in his chest, no restless energy pushing him to prove something. Just calm readiness.
Halfway to class, he saw a familiar figure leaning against a railing, arms crossed, looking as if he'd just woken up.
"You're late," Tokasu muttered.
Yuki raised an eyebrow. "Says the guy with pillow creases still on his face."
Tokasu smirked. They fell into step without needing to speak further.
Over the months, Tokasu had shifted from something like a rival to something closer—deeper. A brother in arms, forged through repetition, setbacks, and stubborn refusal to let the other fall behind.
When they reached the academy, Sayaka was already there. She stood in the middle of a group of girls, animatedly telling a story with wide hand gestures and an exaggerated grin.
The moment she saw them, her eyes lit up. "Finally! You're late. We were starting to think you ditched."
"Only a little late," Yuki replied.
Sayaka practically skipped over and joined them as they walked into the building. She had grown over the summer—not just in skill, but in presence. Her laughter was louder, her posture bolder. Yet, when she looked at them, it was the same warm pride and quiet trust.
...
Their classroom felt both familiar and strange. What struck them first was how empty it was.
Only fifteen students.
Their teacher, a seasoned jonin with grey hair and a patient voice, stepped in and addressed the room.
"As you've all noticed, this year's class is smaller. We've made some adjustments. The academy's elite track will now have tighter focus and greater investment. The students who didn't meet the standards of last year's class have been moved to the standard curriculum. This group, all of you, are the best we have."
A quiet murmur spread through the room.
"With fewer students," he continued, "we can give more individual attention. More training. Faster growth. But it also means more pressure."
"At the end of this year, the top three students will be chosen for special final teachings. You'll learn directly from the Hokage himself."
That did it.
A spark lit across the class like fire through dry grass.
Yuki remained still, but a tiny flicker of anticipation lit in his chest.
Sayaka whispered beside him, grinning. "Top three, huh? Looks like we're going to war."
Tokasu leaned over. "Don't get too cocky."
"I'm always cocky. It's part of my charm."
Their teacher brought up the new curriculum. "This year will build on everything you learned last year—taijutsu, chakra theory, jutsu training—but it will be more intense. More real. We'll also be introducing a new subject: fuinjutsu. Sealing techniques. You'll be studying it for the next few weeks, starting today."
...
Weeks passed like shifting clouds.
Fuinjutsu proved to be both fascinating and grueling. Intricate symbols, complex chakra flow paths, and unforgiving precision. Mistakes didn't just mean failure—they meant danger.
And now, on the final day of the unit, the teacher stood at the front of the class, arms folded, a scroll in his hand.
"Alright," he said. "Before we move on from fuinjutsu, let's see if any of you have truly understood it. Who can explain what sealing techniques are, how they work, and how they're used in the field?"
Silence.
Then Yuki stood.
The teacher nodded. "Go on."
Yuki spoke clearly, calmly, as if he'd been preparing the answer all week.
"Fuinjutsu is the art of manipulating chakra through written symbols in order to produce a wide range of effects—from sealing objects, to restricting movement, to suppressing jutsu. Unlike other techniques, fuinjutsu doesn't rely on hand seals or fast chakra shaping. It's precise. Meticulous. And once inscribed, it can be used by anyone who knows how to activate it."
He took a breath, then continued.
"Most basic fuinjutsu relies on storage—placing objects into scrolls, for example. But advanced sealing can affect space and time. Binding techniques, chakra suppression, explosive tags—they all fall under the umbrella of fuinjutsu. Its versatility comes from how chakra interacts with the formulaic symbols. Each seal is a custom function—designed and executed to exact parameters."
The room was dead quiet.
Yuki finished. "In the field, fuinjutsu can be used for utility—like creating traps, preserving resources, or disabling enemies. But in the hands of a master, it becomes a weapon unlike anything else."
The teacher stared at him for a long moment.
Then nodded. "That… was perfect. I couldn't have explained it better myself."
Sayaka clapped softly beside him. Tokasu gave him a slow nod.
The class moved on, but Sayaka's gaze lingered.
...
After the bell rang, students gathered their things. Sayaka caught up to Yuki at the door, fidgeting slightly.
"Hey. Um. Do you want to go get ice cream?"
Yuki blinked. "Ice cream?"
Her cheeks were a little pink, though she did her best to look nonchalant. "Yeah, just… y'know. Celebrate not failing fuinjutsu. Or surviving the first few weeks. Or whatever."
Yuki smiled faintly. "Thanks, but I have to go to the Hokage's office." Instant rejection.
Sayaka tried not to look too disappointed, but her lips curled in a pout. "Boring. You're always so serious."
"That's why I'm passing fuinjutsu with perfect scores."
She gave him a light punch on the arm. "Yeah, yeah. Next time, though. You owe me."
He nodded once. "Next time."
They parted ways—Sayaka toward the market, and Yuki, already thinking ahead, toward the tower.
Toward whatever came next.