It has been years since the Fourth Great Ninja War. Peace has made the Hidden Leaf something new. Not weaker. But different. The academy building is larger now, with wide windows and electric lights, and the training grounds have been expanded to accommodate the largest class of prospective shinobi the village has ever seen.

Today is a particular day. The first day of the new term. The stone path leading up to the Academy gates is crowded with students and parents; some walk with their heads high, already wearing their new hitai-ate with pride, while others linger near the gates, laughing, nervous, or pretending not to be.

The gate looms overhead, recently painted red, with the Konoha leaf symbol carved into the arch. A few shinobi stand watch, eyeing the crowd with practiced calm.

And there, near the entrance, a familiar flash of blond hair. Boruto Uzumaki, son of the Seventh Hokage, stands with his arms crossed, grinning at something Mitsuki has just said. Sarada Uchiha is a few steps behind them, adjusting the strap of her bag and looking toward the academy building as if she can already see her name on the Hokage's office door.

The bell has not rung yet. The hallways are not yet open. For now, everyone waits outside, caught in the last few moments before the term begins.

And Y/n is here, too.