Time slipped by quietly amid sweat-soaked kendo training. During this period, Shinichi devoted nearly all of his energy to practicing swordsmanship at the dojo.
However, beneath the calm surface of Konohagakure, undercurrents had begun to stir.
A rumor about Konoha's White Fang emerged quietly from nowhere, spreading rapidly through streets and alleys like silent mold.
The core of the rumor was chilling: Konoha's White Fang, Hatake Sakumo, had abandoned a mission of vital importance to the village, causing Konoha to suffer tremendous losses.
The rumors sketched a vague yet heavy outline. The mission seemed to involve a noble from the Fire Country's capital, and even implicated the Daimyō himself.
Precisely because the matter was of such gravity, the village had dispatched Hatake Sakumo, a top-tier shinobi, to ensure absolute success.
Yet at the critical moment, this hero in whom so much hope had been placed chose to give up.
The villagers had no way of knowing the mission's specifics, nor did they understand why the White Fang had abandoned it.
But what spread from mouth to mouth, firmly believed by all, was that this single action had brought immeasurable negative consequences upon Konoha.
Some whispered even more, saying that the Daimyō in the distant capital had already conveyed his dissatisfaction to the Third Hokage.
This wave of criticism aimed at a hero swept through the village for more than half a month. During idle chatter after meals and tea, fragments of it could always be overheard.
Then one day, it was as if an invisible hand suddenly clutched its throat, and it came to an abrupt halt.
All public discussion vanished instantly, as though it had never existed, leaving behind only an unsettling silence imposed by force.
Shinichi knew what that silence meant.
That White Fang of Konoha, renowned throughout the shinobi world, was probably… gone.
He sheathed his sword and looked up at the gloomy sky, feeling neither joy nor sorrow.
…
Time continued to pass quietly. Only three days remained before the Konoha Ninja Academy opened.
To the east of Konohagakure, inside a plain building known as Yamashita Kendo Dojo.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sharp sounds tearing through the air mixed with fierce collisions echoed without end.
After some time, the dojo suddenly fell silent.
"…"
Yamashita stood there in silence, gripping what remained of a broken sword hilt.
He first glanced at the miserable fragment of the shattered blade in his hand, then lifted his gaze, his eyes complex as he looked at the black-haired youth standing opposite him with his sword already sheathed, breathing evenly, with hardly any sweat visible at his temples.
These past few days of sparring—every single time—left him marveling at this disciple's nearly monstrous physique.
"You can graduate."
Yamashita was silent for a long while before he finally spoke, his voice carrying a faint, barely perceptible sense of emotion and release.
"I've already… got nothing left to teach you."
This disciple—back when he first entered under his tutelage more than a year ago—he had already seen that he possessed notable talent in kendo, and a steady temperament far surpassing his peers.
But he had still underestimated him.
Especially over the past month or so—ever since this child defeated that prodigy renowned throughout the entire village, Kakashi, at the Ninja Academy—it was as though some invisible shackle had been completely unlocked.
His comprehension and rate of progress in swordsmanship were simply advancing by leaps and bounds. Points that previously required repeated guidance now became clear with a single prompt; he could even draw inferences from one case to apply to others.
Yamashita did not know what had caused this rebirth-like change. Perhaps it was a breakthrough in confidence brought by that victory? Or perhaps it was a case of deep accumulation finally bursting forth?
He had no way to investigate it, but he could see the result—this youth before him had, on the path of the sword, truly reached the boundary of what he could guide.
Hearing this, Shinichi slowly returned the sword in his hand to its scabbard, his movements meticulous. Facing Yamashita, he bowed solemnly in salute.
"Thank you, sensei, for your careful instruction over the past year and more."
Yamashita waved his hand, a rare trace of warmth appearing on his face. "It's your own effort and talent. Remember: kendo has no end. You're only just beginning. The road ahead—you'll have to walk it yourself."
Shinichi straightened, his gaze calm and firm.
"Yes, sensei. I'll remember."
Shinichi did not leave at once. After pondering for a moment, he asked again with respect, "Sensei, if this disciple wishes to take another step forward in kendo in the future and study it in depth, I wonder where I should go to seek guidance?"
His question was not only about personal training—it was also a subtle probe into the future advancement path of the profession of [Swordsman].
"Konoha's inherited swordsmanship system is itself vast and profound—enough for you to study for a very long time," Yamashita said first. He paused, then still added, "However, if we speak of kendo's orthodoxy and purity, the sacred place recognized by the world even today is still the Land of Iron. That is the country of samurai. If you truly have a chance to go there someday and broaden your horizons, it will certainly benefit your kendo."
The Land of Iron?
Shinichi repeated it silently to himself. If Konoha's swordsmanship system could not satisfy the follow-up advancement needs of the profession of [Swordsman], then the direction in the future might indeed point to that neutral samurai nation.
Of course, that was something very far off.
At present, he was a Konoha Ninja Academy student—a future shinobi—and his actions were inevitably subject to many restrictions.
Setting this matter aside for the moment, Shinichi shifted the topic and spoke with sincere expression. "Sensei, in order to thank you for your careful guidance over the past year and more, this disciple would like to prepare a modest banquet tomorrow afternoon at the Ajino Takumi Restaurant in the village and hold a small appreciation gathering. I wonder if sensei would be willing to honor us with your presence?"
Gratitude for his teacher's instruction was genuine, but this appreciation gathering clearly carried a deeper purpose.
Shinichi understood the customs of this world very well—much like in real-world Japan, matters such as formally completing one's training tended to be marked by simple celebrations with a sense of ritual and cohesion within the sensei–disciple relationship or a small circle. Expressing one's feelings was enough.
But what he intended to do was entirely different.
Drawing on the social practices from memories of his previous life, he planned to turn this appreciation gathering into a fairly large-scale, "banquet-style" social event.
He not only intended to invite Yamashita-sensei and the other senior and junior disciples of the kendo dojo, but also planned to widely extend invitations—or at least spread the word—to gather people from every circle he had come to know or interact with.
The head of the orphanage that had raised him and the children he was familiar with; the master and apprentices of the blacksmith shop who had taken care of him; the owner and colleagues of the Ajino Takumi Restaurant where he had once worked part-time; classmates from school…
Through this lively and unconventional flowing banquet, he wanted to convey a single message clearly and unmistakably—embedding it into the cognition of every participant present, and even of onlookers who merely heard about the event:
Higashino Shinichi had formally completed his training at the Yamashita Kendo Dojo and had become a recognized, bona fide professional swordsman.
This would be an efficient act of cognitive seeding—the key step in pushing [Swordsmanship Apprentice] toward [Swordsman], and another precise operation in his proactive management of his public persona and leverage toward entry upgrades.
Naturally, holding such a banquet on a considerable scale would not be cheap.
But money, for Shinichi at this moment, truly was not a major problem.
As a registered orphan of Konoha, he received a basic living subsidy each month. After entering the Ninja Academy, relying on his top-tier academic performance, he also steadily obtained a scholarship of considerable amount.
Of course, these were all minor sums. The truly crucial point was that not long after enrollment, he had formally submitted an application for a student loan to the school under the pretext of "needing to purchase more professional training equipment and ensure proper nutrition to sustain high-intensity training."
The process was originally supposed to take time for approval, and the amount was also subject to limits.
However, when this loan was finally approved and disbursed to him a few days ago, Shinichi felt a trace of surprise—the amount far exceeded his expectations, to the point that it could even be described as rather generous.
It could only be said that the effects brought about by defeating Kakashi had once again come into play.
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