Sakura rolled her shoulders as she made her way out of the onsen. She'd always had a rather weird relationship with them—likely a holdover from Arden—but they were more or less empty, now, and she'd decided to take advantage after a long day of work.

Now, though, she had to get out before she started running late—the Training Ground Forty group was back up and running, and at least a couple of them now met every day.

It hadn't been easy, however. Shin was gone already and wouldn't be able to visit often, Yasuo was usually out of town too, and even the four that remained were usually busy with their jobs and Ibiki and all the usual tasks that made up a day.

It was worth it, though, and so they persisted.

Of course, even when most of them were in a room together, ready to tackle the list of problems they'd made up over the past decade or so…

They all had different priorities, different attack plans, different ideal outcomes—they had different experiences, had different brains, and all the differences made it very, very hard to agree on where to begin, much less what to do after.

They'd been working at it steadily for nearly a month, now, meeting in fives and fours and threes and twos and ones, and the room Bokuso had cleared out for that purpose now fairly swarmed with the papers, scrolls, chalkboards, diagrams, and maps they'd gotten copies of or made up themselves.

Progress was being made, the list was ever so slowly coalescing into an agenda, it was just… slow.

A lot of it, Sakura knew, was her own fault. She was the one with the knowledge of the other world, with the ever-more-clear memories of this one's future too. She was the one with the most vision of what could be, the most concrete ideas of how to get there.

Even without her friends, she should have gotten started, actually acted ages ago. She'd done some, of course, had started on the long-distance communication systems and batteries and economics as soon as she'd had a good idea of how, but.

She knew, better than anyone, that there were solid, tangible threats in Konoha's future. She even knew what many of them were, for all that she had not yet gleaned the specifics.

And now, at sixteen, she was beginning to feel the burden of her relative inaction.

It wasn't as if she'd been doing nothing, of course—first she'd been trying to learn enough to do anything, then she'd been busy with the Second Great War, then with recovering from it, then the Economics mission, then Ibiki, and now…

Well, now it was time for the Third Great War.

It had been time, really, had been a foregone conclusion since Sachiko and Ibiki and all the others had been found. Even before that—everyone knew that Kumo had initially intended to ambush Konoha alongside Iwa, and for all that Kumo had been internally a wreck and unwilling to help out during the war…

Those factors which had made them want to go against Konoha in the first place were clearly still there.

So now Konoha had emptied out again.

But this time, Sakura had remained behind.

She was still burdened by the war, of course—her workload had more-or-less doubled overnight, for instance—but it wasn't like the first war she'd been in. She wasn't pulling insane shifts and driving herself mad in the process. She wasn't recovering from that experience, or suddenly told she had to raise another child, or anything else.

She was able, then, to address how she wanted to combat her knowledge of the future.

The problem, of course, was where to begin.

For all the differences between her and her friends in where they wanted to focus, it seemed there were equally many inside her.

Everything felt urgent, everything felt prioritized, everything felt like it had to be addressed immediately or dire consequences would follow.

And Sakura…

Well, she might be used to fighting against the feeling of being overwhelmed, either by Arden's memories or her own chakra sense, but that didn't mean she had any idea how to comb through the plethora of things to be done to figure out how to rank them, much less what to do about each.

And yet she had to try.

And so she would.

She arrived at their 'Office 40' to find Bokuso already there, working through the notes that Aiko must have left the day before.

"She's been… busy."

"Is this… has she been designing a new courtroom?"

"Aiko has written over multiple documents: she hated your idea of a jury trial, but she likes the concept of a separate courtroom for offenses by children. She also wants more information on your fingerprinting idea: why is it necessary when we don't know if they really are unique and chakra works so well?"

That… was a good point. "It was more a general idea, for the whole of the country where chakra sensors are less common and they don't have Uzu fuinjutsu options that can do the job in a pinch." Which hadn't been true until just now, actually, but that was only because she'd forgotten that they had those fuinjutsu papers that could record chakra signatures when necessary.

Bokuso hummed. "Low priority, then?"

Compared to everything else? "Yeah."

"What are you going to work on today?"

That… was a good question.

In her meditations yesterday she'd come across a memory that she was fairly sure she'd encountered before, a memory of Uchiha Itachi murdering his entire clan. Combined with the other memory that she'd found mere months ago, while in the Land of Mushrooms, of the Hokage and Danzo discussing Danzo's attempted assassination of him, as well as Sakura's as-yet-unverified belief that Danzo had something to do with the massacre…

She wanted, first and foremost, to destroy the most popular elder of the city. Preferably before he could commit genocide and treason.

"I'm… I want to look into clan interactions."

Bokuso nodded. "The Akimichi-Mitokado feud: it is getting to you?"

"A bit, yeah." Sakura said. "You know my Sensei's Mitokado and Juro's obviously Akimichi. But even beyond that… I mean, every clan has their own reputation and each has their ups and downs in terms of how the rest of Konoha perceives them, but I feel like a lot of them are hiding skeletons in their closet that might just come out for a peek at some inopportune time."

"Let me guess: a hunch?"

Well, she'd had to call her foreknowledge something, and she'd taken to explaining away her theories as 'hunches' when asked. She probably should use that word a bit less, though, if it was becoming such a cliché that Bokuso was calling her out on it. "A… gut feeling."

She sat, pulling up the historical records she'd dropped off two days before of the clans during the warring clans period, and got to work.

.

Inoichi, Choji, and Shika frowned over the table splayed in the middle of Inoichi's office.

Well, actually, his father's office, but Inoto had loaned it to them—had been thrilled his son was investing his energy in improving clan welfare—and they'd taken full advantage, given the amount of fuinjutsu dedicated to keeping the room not only safe and clear of spies but also organized and easy to use (the lights even turned on by voice command.)

It was unfortunate that the excellence of their surroundings seemed to do little to spur their discussions, however.

The problem was easily identified: too many problems. Too many things to change, too many people to help, too many issues to address.

They'd done bits and pieces so far, minor little things that were more meant to prove to their parents that they were interested in taking a larger role than actually accomplishing anything, but whenever they tried to decide what more to do—

Conversation stymied.

It should have been easy.

They were a set team, after all, had done everything together for almost the entirety of their lives. They knew whose opinion to listen to when, how to fight together and lie together and steal together and everything else they did over the course of their career together.

But this…

They'd all, after all, been trained to eventually become the leaders of their clans. They all, after all, had very strong ideas of where they should begin.

And those ideas did not agree.

Choza, for instance, was absolutely aghast by the mere existence of food insecurity, much less its prevalence. Shika was more concerned with healthcare—his sister had died because of a plague, not war—while Inoichi was really pushing for an academic rework to be prioritized.

Each had five, six, seven major projects they wanted to do first, to do together, and there wasn't a single one that all three agreed upon—though most had two supporters behind it.

So they argued, they went out and accomplished minor tasks, they came back and argued some more.

And now Inoichi was glancing at the clock.

"Somewhere to be?" Shika asked, pushing a report on the prison population to the side to pull out the numbers on the recent southern flooding that was hidden underneath.

"Date with Kohana." Inoichi said. "It's not like we're making much progress anyway."

Choza grunted. "You're right. We're going about this wrong."

"We're a team—" Shika started, repeating the adages ingrained in each member of Ino-Shika-Cho.

"We are. But that doesn't mean we can't act independently."

"Choza's right. How about we each pick a major project or three, figure out how to make progress there, and ask for help from the others as necessary. It's better than trying to organize this mess, at least."

"We just keep on pulling more and more information." Choza said. "And I know information's a good thing to have, but right now that seems to be all we're doing—we need to be more active."

"Fine, fine." Shika muttered. "Let's make up a new list, then, of all the major projects, and we'll divide the list up between us and start wherever each of us feels is best."

"Works for me." Inoichi said. Choza nodded in agreement.

Less than an hour later Inoichi was stepping out of his house and making his way down the street to Kohana's.

"Hey Inoichi!" He'd timed it just right; she was just locking up the front door as he came alongside her.

"Ready for dinner?"

"Yes! Where are we going?"

"The Akimichi place near the Aburame residence; it has a new dessert I thought you'd like." Kohana beamed up at him, and he couldn't help but beam back—she made him happier than he felt he ever had been before, and for all that life certainly wasn't perfect with the war and the daily issues that plagued his clan, city, and country… she made him forget about it for a bit.

As they walked out of the restaurant hours later they were still beaming. It was wonderful to be able to date in public, the dessert had been as amazing as he'd been told, and he'd just spent a wonderful evening with his girlfriend.

And then he felt a familiar signature turning from the Aburame land onto the same road.

"Sakura! Hey!"

"Hey sis! With your team?"

"Yep." Sakura said. "I feel like we're finally starting to make progress."

Inoichi's brow furrowed. "Your team? I thought you were paired with Shin and Juro?"

Sakura grinned. "Yeah, but we and a couple others from our Academy class—including Aburame Bokuso—have gotten together to try to figure out how to make the world a better place."

"Really?" Inoichi said. "I've been doing something similar—with Shika and Choza, I mean."

"I didn't know that." Kohana said.

"Well, we weren't really doing much for a while, just like normal clan heir things. We just—well, I guess we just started making progress too, so that might change soon but until now it was kind of… boring."

Kohana frowned at him. "I still want to know what you're doing, you know."

"I'm sorry. I'll tell you next time."

"So, progress?" Sakura said.

"Oh, yeah. We've divided a bunch of major projects between us and we're each supposed to create a plan on how to address the issue then come back together to help the others. I'm starting with education reform."

"Well, that is a major project." Sakura grinned. "I'm doing clan relations myself. If you want to help, or get help, feel free to stop by Office 40 whenever—assuming, of course, that you're not too good to."

Inoichi rolled his eyes, smiling. Sakura had been his tutor for a long time, and she knew more than most just how irrationally his pride led him to behave. "I was a kid! I've grown! I'm not nearly as arrogant anymore!"

"Leave him alone!" Kohana laughed too—she was more than aware of Sakura's less-than-positive perception of Inoichi's younger years, but also more than aware that Inoichi had—hopefully—moved past at least most of his unfortunate snobbery.

Sakura laughed too, and then pointed toward the Akimichi clan compound. "I'm going to go have dinner with Juro's family. Have a nice night!"

"You too!"

.

A very angry boy frowned at his father outside the Academy building. Other parents, most with far happier kids, streamed past on either side of them, grouping up in the courtyard. The little boy showed no sign of moving.

"You promised to train me for another year! YOU promised I didn't have to go to the Academy yet." The boy's arms were crossed, tears building in his eyes as his father, an exhausted-looking man whose white hair matched his son's, sighed.

"That was before the war started, Kakashi. I need you to be kept busy during the day, and this way you'll learn alongside your peers. Don't you want to make friends?"

"No!" Of that Kakashi was quite certain; all previous attempts to associate him with others near his age had ended poorly. He found them stupid, slow, and pointless to interact with. His father had been trying to change that, had been lecturing Kakashi regularly about the importance of being nice, but his instructions seemed to be going in one ear and out the other.

Now, the father supposed, his son would have to learn by direct experience.

"You're going to the Academy, Kakashi." Hatake Sakumo, said at last. "And I'm going to work. I'm sorry, but that is how it's going to be."

The tears began to fall, and Sakumo cringed, his every movement showing how much it hurt to see his son so upset. "Look, whenever I come back—so long as you do as your told and are still in school and everything—we'll do whatever you like, okay? You can skip the Academy, and we'll spend the whole day doing whatever you want."

Kakashi nodded, his head hung, then turned toward the building.

Sakumo only watched him a moment when his son spun around and dove into his arms. "Love you."

"Love you too."

.

With Konoha moving to war—the majority of the Shinobi were in the field already—the worries of a resource shortage began again. With that in mind, not only had rationing started up again (always a popular decision) but trade had picked up between Fire and all the various minor nations that were in some way, shape, or form allied to Konoha.

Might Duy, eternal genin, had therefore been called to guard caravans, a job which would keep him constantly popping in and out of the city.

"My dear son, these are hard, trying times." He said, looking down seriously at the small toddler who mirrored his face. "But we will be strong, and we will succeed. You in your school, me in my career. Suffering, from the war and from being apart, is a tool we must use carefully, but it can be used to make us stronger. Eat your vegetables, listen to your grandfather, train exactly as I taught, and always be kind. We will use our youth to prosper!"

"Youth!"

And with one last hug, they turned to their destinations: the town gate and the Academy gate, each equally determined to make the other proud.

.

Child geniuses were a fact of life in Konoha. Perhaps elsewhere they might slip by unnoticed, or perhaps they'd be even more scrutinized than within the village walls, but in Konoha, any sign of talent, of 'specialness', was noticed early. For Sakura, she had no doubt that as much as three-quarters of Konoha knew her name, knew that she had aided Konoha in an exceptional way and may very well do so in the future. But her genius wasn't flashy. It was muted due to its shape: intelligence without battle prowess was useful, but also not the type of skill that was broadcast to the world at large.

For fighting geniuses, however, for them it was different. While much of the work of ninja relied on subterfuge and restricting information, the names of those that could battle well were often spread far and wide: fear us, the information said, for we are mighty. And then, too, there was the role of time. As with non-battle intelligence, time was still something of a limiter (there was only so much one could learn in any given day) but it also limited others: being able to translate one's genius into battle meant that you had youths who could fight with the strategy of shinobi over a decade older without the physical limitations that decade would bring. When the textbooks claimed that everyone knew Sarutobi Hiruzen's name before his fourteenth birthday, then, what that meant was "here was a man who could take down opponents with double his experience; here was power."

Namikaze Minato was one such genius.

He sat awkwardly as he waited to be allowed inside the Hokage's office, muscles tensed as he reminded himself that the Hokage had to have had a reason for not immediately sending him to the front, for holding him back over the past several days.

He hoped whatever it was would be quick to fix; he was dying to help his fellow countrymen, and what he was accomplishing in Konoha by messing around with funjutsu was nothing like the results he was sure he could elicit in combat.

But he'd been told to stay, to come to the Hokage on this day, and so he had.

His knee didn't jiggle, but it was a very near thing.

"Come in." A voice said at last. It was an ANBU, a Moose mask who had just opened the door to allow him to do just that. He bowed then followed.

The Hokage was behind his desk, skimming page after page of reports in the few seconds it took Minato to stand at attention in front of him. When he did finally still the Hokage put down the pile in his hands, looked up, and frowned.

"Sit."

Minato sat.

"Do you know why I called you here today?"

"No, Hokage."

"No guesses?"

"No, Hokage."

The Hokage looked rather disgruntled by that, but not outright angry, and it was true—while Minato might have several hundred theories that each invaded his head for a second or two each, he stood by none enough to actually speak it aloud.

"You're a very smart boy, Minato. Top of your class."

"Yes, Hokage."

"My own student Jiraiya mentored you."

"Yes, Hokage."

"And, of course, there is your mission record, and besides that your saving Uzumaki Kushina."

"Yes, Hokage."

"No guesses? None at all?"

"No, Hokage." Although at this point some of the weight was beginning to lift from his chest—it seemed increasingly unlikely that he'd come here to be punished.

"Well then, I suppose I will have to spell it out. I am telling you now to give you time. Time to build up support, time to test yourself, time to become familiar with the tasks you will eventually have to perform. Tomorrow you will be sent to the front to begin such, but you will have today and tonight to come to terms with what I am about to tell you."

Minato's heart—only just beginning to slow from the racing rhythm it had taken ever since the door opened—sped up once more. What could it be? What could it possibly be? "Yes, Hokage."

"Namikaze Minato, Special Jounin of the Leaf, you will be my heir apparent. You, my boy, will be the next Hokage."