The silence in the classroom was so thick it felt tangible. Naruto Uzumaki stood frozen behind his desk, his breath hitching in his throat. He looked at Evan with tears welling in his bright blue eyes—large, hot drops that threatened to spill over at any moment. For the first time in his life, his chest felt warm. It was a searing, radiant heat that almost hurt because it was so unfamiliar.
Among everyone in this classroom, among the teachers who looked at him with pity, the villagers who crossed the street to avoid him, and the cold, stinging stares he had grown used to since he could walk... there was finally one person who truly believed in him.
Only Evan.
Naruto clenched his fists beneath the desk, his knuckles turning white. Seeing that raw, vulnerable expression, Evan silently made a decision of his own. If Naruto wanted to become Hokage—if that impossible dream was the only thing keeping the boy's spirit from being crushed by the village's collective hatred—then Evan would make sure he reached that throne. He would pave the road with the bodies of enemies if he had to.
"I recognize you," Evan said calmly, his voice steady but firm, cutting through the stagnant air of the room. "And one day, Naruto, the entire village will recognize you too. Their eyes will be forced to see the man you've become."
The classroom seemed to freeze in time. The mocking smiles of the civilian students faltered, replaced by a confused, awkward tension. Then, Hinata Hyuga spoke. Her voice was quiet, a mere whisper compared to the chaos of the room, but she stood beside Evan without a single trace of hesitation.
"Naruto-kun… if Evan-kun believes in you, then… then I believe in you too," Hinata said. Her lavender eyes were fixed on her desk, her face pink, but her words carried the ancient, stubborn weight of the Hyuga bloodline.
Naruto's head snapped up, his eyes shaking as those tears finally slipped free, carving paths through the whisker-marks on his cheeks. He couldn't find words; his throat was too tight, his heart too full.
"It's not just dreaming," Evan continued, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Naruto, if you want to become Hokage, you will become Hokage. I'll make sure your health and your strength never fail you on that path."
For a long heartbeat, no one spoke. The children stared at Evan in disbelief. They hadn't expected this—not a double endorsement of the "demon kid" from the top two students in the class. The social hierarchy of the Academy, usually dictated by the whispers of adults, was being rewritten by a five-year-old in a charcoal tunic.
And the ripples didn't stop there. Shikamaru Nara, who had been watching the scene with his chin resting in his palm, straightened in his seat and let out a long, helpless sigh.
"Ugh, so troublesome…" he muttered, though his eyes were sharp. "But I guess following the crowd is even more of a drag. If Evan is betting on the loudmouth, there's probably a reason for it."
Ino and Choji whispered back and forth. The "Ino-Shika-Cho" alliance was a living thing, and if the brains of the group was showing interest, the heart and soul followed. Choji, mid-snack, paused his chewing and raised a grease-stained thumb toward Naruto.
"Eat more, Naruto! You'll need a lot of strength to be the boss!" Choji shouted, offering a piece of jerky.
Sasuke Uchiha scoffed quietly, turning his face toward the window to hide his expression. His dark eyes lingered on Naruto and Evan for half a second longer than he intended—a flicker of something that wasn't quite hatred, but a deep, burning curiosity.
Iruka Umino swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he held his attendance clipboard. He had taught children for years, but he had never seen a class dynamic shift so violently based on the words of a single child. The "Will of Fire" wasn't being taught today; it was being demonstrated.
"Class," Iruka said carefully, rubbing his temple to soothe an oncoming headache, "please… let's continue. Introduce yourselves one by one."
Evan stood up without being prompted, his movements fluid and efficient. "My name is Evan Kamiyo," he said evenly. "My dream is to become the strongest ninja in the world—not for glory, but to be strong enough to protect the people I care about from the gears of destiny."
There was a pause as he scanned the room, his gaze resting briefly on the blushing Hinata and the beaming Naruto.
"…If I'm allowed to add," he continued, a rare, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes, "since I plan on being the strongest, I'd also like to marry a few wives someday. A man needs a large home to keep his heart anchored."
The classroom exploded.
Hinata's face instantly turned a shade of crimson so deep it looked like she might actually combust. Ino gasped, her blue eyes wide, while the civilian girls started whispering furiously about "audacity" and "confidence."
Iruka nearly dropped his papers, his face turning a matching shade of red. "A-A few wives?! You're six years old! This kid is dangerous! Sit down! Sit down! Next student!"
Evan returned to his seat, calm as a pond in winter, while Naruto laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair.
The Hokage's Office
High above the bustling streets, Sarutobi Hiruzen watched everything through his crystal ball, the smoke from his pipe drifting in the afternoon light. The opening ceremony of the Academy was proceeding normally… yet not normally at all.
Naruto Uzumaki—the jinchūriki, the boy who carried the village's greatest trauma—had been acknowledged. Supported. Publicly. And Evan Kamiyo stood at the absolute center of that shift.
Hiruzen exhaled a long, grey cloud of smoke. "This generation… is different," he whispered. Naruto's dream had been recognized openly for the first time by his peers, not out of pity, but out of a strange, burgeoning respect.
And Evan's presence—his bold, almost arrogant words—had eased a guilt that had weighed on the old Hokage's heart for years. He had promised Minato to care for the boy, and he had failed to stop the village's coldness. But now, a peer was doing what the Hokage could not.
"I failed you, Minato," Hiruzen murmured softly to the empty room. "But perhaps… perhaps it isn't too late for your son."
The "Ino-Shika-Cho" heirs were already warming to the boy. The Hyuga heiress was looking at Evan with a devotion that could bridge the gap between their clans. For the first time since the Nine-Tails Rebellion, the social fabric of the village felt… balanced.
However, Hiruzen's gaze darkened as his thoughts drifted toward the police station in the Uchiha district. The Uchiha problem remained a festering wound. Shisui's tragic "suicide" had only delayed the inevitable explosion. The contradiction between the village council and the Uchiha pride still existed—and it was growing like a cancer.
"Maintaining balance…" Hiruzen muttered, feeling the weight of his years. "That's all an old man like me can do now."
A subtle ripple of chakra moved through the air behind him. A figure wearing an animal-faced porcelain mask knelt silently in the shadows, a faint trace of fresh blood visible on his flak jacket.
"It's the weasel," Hiruzen said, not needing to turn around.
"Yes, Lord Hokage," came the calm, hollow reply. "The mission was completed as ordered. The intelligence source has been eliminated. The leak is plugged."
The masked ninja removed his mask, revealing the tired, tear-trough marked face of Itachi Uchiha. He looked like a ghost that had forgotten how to haunt.
"I apologize for the delay," Itachi said evenly. "The target was more resilient than the reports suggested."
Hiruzen studied the boy. So young. So composed. Already carrying a burden that would have broken a grown man.
"You did well, Itachi," Hiruzen said at last, his voice softening with a trace of pity. "Rest for now. Spend time with your brother. He started at the Academy today."
Itachi's eyes softened for a fraction of a second at the mention of Sasuke. He bowed and vanished in a swirl of leaves.
Hiruzen stared at the empty space where the prodigy had stood. Kakashi… Itachi… Evan… Among the younger generation, aside from the veteran Kakashi, Itachi was the most suitable candidate to inherit the Will of Fire and lead the village.
And yet—Hiruzen sighed, tapping his pipe against the wooden desk. Why did he have to be an Uchiha? The village was losing its best talents to internal strife. The balance was fragile, and the future had no clear, untainted successor.
His gaze drifted back to the crystal ball. Evan Kamiyo was sitting at his desk, his eyes sharp and unreadable as he watched Iruka-sensei begin the first lecture on chakra theory.
"Evan Kamiyo," the Third Hokage murmured, his eyes narrowing. "What path will you choose… when the village truly needs you to be more than just a doctor?"