Naruto: Power through Bonds

Danzo entered the room with a rare smile, handing a freshly polished Konoha forehead protector to Denji.

"Congratulations, Denji. From today onward, you're a true ninja." His voice carried a pride that he usually reserved for special occasions. "You may not be the youngest Genin in history, but times are different now. You have the chance to become the youngest Jōnin the village has ever seen—so keep working hard."

Kakashi's record as the youngest Jōnin at twelve still stood firm, but Danzo believed Denji had both the talent and the backing to surpass it. The young ninja examined the forehead protector in his hand, considering where best to wear it. His forehead wasn't particularly wide, so perhaps it wasn't ideal to wear it traditionally. While he pondered, a familiar system prompt chimed in his mind:

[Host has formed a bond with Konoha Village, gained rank: Genin, and acquired a special state: 'Leaning on a Strong Tree.']

[Effect: Within the Land of Fire, training speed increases by 20%, and Chakra recovery speed increases by 20%. The effect scales with rank progression.]

[Congratulations! The host has become a Konoha Genin and reached the first stage of the 'Mom Loves You' bond. Claim the reward now? (Note: The reward will be held for 24 hours.)]

"Not now," Denji mentally replied to the system.

With that settled, he looked up at Danzo and grinned. "Grandfather, what's so special about being the youngest Jōnin? If I'm going for a record, it's to be the youngest Hokage."

Danzo's lone visible eye brightened. "Good! That's the kind of ambition I like to see. You're a true Shimura. The Hokage's chair should have been ours all along." His words were fierce, filled with conviction. "Mark my words, I'll take that seat first and pave the way for you."

A pause followed as Danzo contemplated the years ahead. He figured he had a good twenty more years of work left in him. By then, Denji would be in his prime, not even thirty—just the right age to step into the Hokage's role.

If he had sons and grandsons, well-trained and prepared, perhaps one day the Hokage lineage wouldn't be much different from that of a daimyo—passed down through generations. The thought of such a future ignited a fire in Danzo's chest, and for a brief moment, he fantasized about ousting Hiruzen right then and there. But it was just that—a fantasy. The more pressing matter was Denji's immediate future and next steps.

Danzo calmed himself and said, "Now that you've become a Genin, tradition dictates that you'll need a Jōnin leader and two teammates."

"But your situation, along with Uchiha Itachi's, is unique. The two of you graduated early, and all the teams for this year's graduates are already set."

"I won't team up with Uchiha Itachi." Denji shook his head emphatically. It wasn't out of fear of losing—it was something deeper. In the original timeline, Itachi's eyes had opened a year later than now, triggered by a teammate's death that pushed him to the edge. Denji didn't want to risk being a casualty of such a scenario, however slim the chance.

"Fine," Danzo said with a slight nod. "Let Hiruzen worry about Uchiha Itachi. You'll go to the Root for a while to train. I'll personally arrange a Jōnin leader and teammates for you."

"Sure," Denji agreed. It suited him perfectly. Not only would it keep him off the radar, but it also meant he could start building bonds and earning rewards within the Root.

...

After they finalized the arrangements, Denji and Danzo had dinner together. Soon after, Denji returned to his room, ostensibly to rest, but in reality to collect his newly earned rewards. The system had imposed a one-day claim limit on them, which frustrated him a little. If he could have saved all the attributes until he reached their ultimate levels, he might have been able to break through to an entirely new plane of power in a single leap.

What would breaking through mean? At the very least, it would be reaching the heights of legendary figures like Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara. But the system wasn't about to let him "game" it that way. Its restrictions were clear: claim now, or lose out.

In truth, Denji had considered remaining in the academy until all his attributes reached their peak. But as appealing as that idea sounded, it wasn't practical. Staying in school would mean limiting his interactions with other ninjas. It would keep him isolated from the broader shinobi world.

To truly connect and establish himself, he needed to step into the field and form meaningful bonds. That's why he had chosen to graduate early. Talent could always be developed and honed over time. The path to breaking through wouldn't be quick, but it would be steady.

Denji closed his eyes, steadied his breathing, and focused inwardly.

"System," he said. "Claim rewards."

Denji muttered to himself. The system was completely unresponsive, not capable of much beyond answering basic questions about rules.

Suddenly, warmth flooded through his body. The activity in his cells and chakra surged to new heights, as if he'd instantly broken through a barrier.

He watched the numbers on his chakra meter rapidly climb.

5.2 units, 5.7, 6.2, 6.5, 7… The meter continued to jump until it finally stabilized at 9 units after about ten minutes.

Under special talents, his "Senju lineage development" shifted to "Standard." However, there was no sign of Wood Style appearing.

It's a common misconception that the Senju lineage and Wood Style are inherently tied together, but that's not true. Senju is just Senju, and Wood Style is a rare phenomenon. In thousands of years, only Senju Hashirama ever naturally awakened Wood Style. There's no clear evidence that even the Sage of Six Paths possessed it.

The reality is that Senju Hashirama was simply a one-of-a-kind prodigy. His ability to create and wield Wood Style—a power that could even harmonize with the divine tree—was something no other ninja, not even other Senju, had ever achieved.

Denji's musings were interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in his eyes. Instinctively, he pressed his palms against them as a trail of blood-red tears streamed down his face, soaking his sleeves.

When he finally opened his eyes again, his reflection revealed blood-red pupils. A single tomoe spun slowly in each of his irises.