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Konoha Year 44. Four years at the Ninja Academy ended beneath the Land of Wind's endless yellow sand and the war clouds that never truly lifted.
The Ninja World now stood in a delicate, tense lull. The Second Great Ninja War had closed with Konoha's victory, yet all Five Great Nations were exhausted, their bones picked bare by the scavengers of conflict. A "cold peace" blanketed the world, the air forever tinged with the faint, metallic scent of gunpowder.
Reading the signs, Sunagakure's leadership—the Third Kazekage and Elder Chiyo—issued a wartime decree: the Academy would shorten its curriculum and accelerate training to meet the fresh storm gathering on the horizon. What once required years was compressed, and Sayo's class now faced their graduation exams.
The exam ground felt murderous, graver than any practice. Teacher Arai's face was stone; unfamiliar Special Jonin served as proctors. The tests were brutally practical: extreme stamina, shuriken marksmanship, basic genjutsu resistance, and trap-craft.
Sayo stood in the crowd, still tiny, his face pale against the sand. He placed dead-last in stamina and barely passed shuriken. However, his genjutsu resistance—fortified by two lifetimes of mental discipline—was effortless. Trap-craft was his true forte; melding the "Spider's" reconnaissance with engineering theory, his snares were elegant and invisible, earning a rare nod from the judges.
In the final live duel, he was again grouped with Zhuo Si and Zhinai. Sayo refused a head-on fight. Like a shadow commander, using the Spider's precise vision and Zhuo Si's stubborn defense, he issued orders, maneuvering his team to avoid the edge and weaving trip-lines that crippled the enemy's mobility. Once, to save Zhinai, he raised an Earth Release: Earth Flow Wall no taller than a brick—just enough to deflect a kunai with the minimum possible energy expenditure. With Zhinai's timid Dust-Wind Jutsu blinding the foe and Zhuo Si's finishing blow, they scraped another victory.
When it ended, every student waited in dread for the postings. Teacher Arai unrolled the parchment.
"Black Ant—graduated! Assigned to Third Battle Squad!" "Zhuo Si—graduated! Assigned to Seventh Battle Squad!" "Zhinai—graduated! Assigned to Logistics Medical Reserve!"
… Name after name. Soon, it was Sayo's turn.
"Sayo," Arai paused, his eyes complex. "Graduated."
Sayo's heart unclenched. But Arai's next words froze the yard.
"Chakra reserves below battle-squad minimum. Physical rating: Fail. No combat squad assignment."
A ripple of whispers swept the lines. So it was true—no amount of brilliance could vault over a broken body. Yet, Arai had not finished.
"By special dispensation of Elder Chiyo and with the Puppet Workshop's consent, Sayo is assigned directly to the Puppet Brigade's Research and Production Unit as an official apprentice."
Surprise flickered across the yard, yet it felt inevitable. A frontline squad was a death sentence for a boy who could barely run a mile. But placement in the workshops—Chiyo's own order—was open recognition of his singular gift. It was protection, and bespoke cultivation.
Sayo's dark eyes showed a flicker of understanding. The battlefield demanded raw force; the workshops offered space for invention.
After class, Sharyu came for his son. Forewarned of the result, he betrayed no feeling, only clapped a hard hand on the boy's thin shoulder. "Let's go home. Tomorrow, I take you to the real work."
Sayo looked back at the Academy one last time. He offered a slight nod to Zhuo Si and Zhinai. Zhuo Si scowled, then muttered, "Hey... build us some decent puppets, got it?" Zhinai whispered, "Good luck, Sayo-kun."
Walking home through the familiar sand, Sayo knew: school was over, but a journey far closer to his dreams had begun. In the Puppet Workshops waited finer materials, deeper knowledge—and the tools he needed to forge the "Gundam" that would eventually replace his failing heart.
His future lay not amid gun-smoke, but amid machine-oil and ringing steel.
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