Monday morning found Hanekawa in the woods behind his house, watching Kurenai practice her genjutsu while he worked on his throwing accuracy. The kunai flew from his fingers in a steady rhythm, embedding themselves in the wooden targets he'd set up.

  The real problem was deciding which ninja tool to master next.

  He'd already committed to kunai and shuriken—the basics every ninja needed. Senbon and fuma shuriken were possibilities, but the difficulty curve was steep. Swords, nunchaku, staffs... all viable, but all demanding serious training time. Detonating tags were powerful but expensive. And then there were scalpels, which he'd pick up naturally when he studied medical ninjutsu.

  Money, he thought, watching a kunai sail wide of its target. That's the real bottleneck.

  As a six-year-old, his options were limited. But as a spy for the Hidden Cloud...

  An idea crystallized. He knew exactly how to fix this.

  "I'm heading out for a run, Kurenai!" he called to Kurenai, who was concentrating hard on maintaining her illusion.

  She didn't even break focus. "Don't be late!"

  ---

  After two circuits around the neighborhood, Hanekawa slipped into the Konoha Knowledge Bookstore. The familiar smell of paper and ink greeted him.

  Tsuchihashi looked up from the counter, his weathered face breaking into a knowing smile. "Agent 9527. Glad to see you're still in one piece."

  Please stop saying things like that, Hanekawa thought, wincing. That's basically a death flag.

  "I need to discuss something," Hanekawa said, approaching the counter. "Activity funds."

  Tsuchihashi's eyebrows rose. "Activity funds?"

  "For operations," Hanekawa clarified, keeping his voice low despite the empty shop. "I'm young. No income."

  The older man stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Fair point. Five thousand ryō per month. Starting now."

  Hanekawa's eyes widened slightly. Five thousand ryō was enormous for a child—equivalent to a full D-rank mission reward. And I'm getting it for free. This is excellent.

  "Thank you, Uncle Tsuchihashi."

  "Don't thank me yet," the man said, his expression turning serious. "You're being paid because you have work to do. The Hidden Cloud has expectations."

  "I'm ready," Hanekawa said, straightening.

  "Show your talents at the academy. Graduate with distinction. Then secure a position as a disciple under a high-ranking Konoha official." Tsuchihashi's gaze was intense. "You're our best asset for infiltrating the upper levels. Don't waste that potential."

  "Understood. I'll become Tsunade's student."

  "Good." Tsuchihashi's expression softened slightly. "Do that, and you'll be registered as the Raikage's own disciple. You'll have access to Hidden Cloud jutsu."

  The carrot and the stick, Hanekawa noted. Effective.

  He paused, then added carefully, "Uncle Tsuchihashi, I have a friend who wants to publish a book. Could you help him?"

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "A friend?" Tsuchihashi's lips quirked. "I can offer twenty percent of profits."

  "What's the standard rate?"

  "Thirty percent to the author, seventy to the bookstore."

  Hanekawa made a mental note. That's brutal. But I can work with this. "What if my friend provides the concept and outline, but needs a collaborator to write it?"

  Tsuchihashi frowned, considering. "That's... unconventional."

  The silence stretched. Hanekawa waited, knowing the man was calculating risk versus reward.

  "If sales are poor, ten percent," Tsuchihashi finally said. "If sales are strong, forty percent."

  Forty percent is workable. Hanekawa nodded. "I'll bring the outline next time."

  Before leaving, he browsed the adult section out of curiosity. The books were surprisingly tame—suggestive rather than explicit. Makes sense. Jiraiya's "Intimate Paradise" became a movie, so it can't be too extreme.

  ---

  The ninja tool shop next door was his next stop. The proprietor, a grizzled man with scarred hands, looked up from sharpening a blade.

  "Detonating tags?" Hanekawa asked.

  The man's expression shifted to something between amusement and concern. "That's a big request for a kid."

  "I need to know the prices."

  "They vary." The shopkeeper set down his whetstone. "Cheap ones—three hundred ryō each—have the power of a basic fire jutsu. Good for practice or small targets. The expensive ones..." He whistled low. "Tens of thousands. Jonin-level power. Those are rare."

  Hanekawa did the math quickly. With five thousand ryō, he could afford fifteen of the cheap ones and still have five hundred left. That's enough to practice with and learn the mechanics.

  He bought fifteen detonating tags.

  Walking home, his mind was already spinning through possibilities. The book project could generate serious income if it succeeded. The detonating tags would give him new training options. And his monthly stipend meant he could actually afford the katana and other tools he needed.

  Not bad for a morning's work.

  ---

  At the academy, Kurenai was already in their classroom, looking annoyed.

  "Where were you?" she demanded, puffing out her cheeks.

  "Training," Hanekawa said simply, taking his seat.

  Across the room, Obito was in full declaration mode. "Kakashi, I'm going to beat you in afternoon training! As the future Hokage, I won't lose again!"

  Kakashi didn't even look up from his book. "You can't break the top ten."

  "This time is different!"

  Kurenai groaned when she heard the word "training." "Physical training is the worst. It's like they're trying to kill us."

  Hanekawa understood her complaint. The academy's physical training was brutal—obstacle courses, endurance runs, strength tests. Last time, he'd barely made the top ten himself, same as Obito.

  Today might be different though, he thought, feeling the weight of the detonating tags in his pack. I've got new tools to work with.

  The morning classes dragged on. Theory, history, basic chakra control. Nothing he didn't already know. By the time the afternoon practical session began, Hanekawa was ready to move.

  The physical training course was set up in the academy's outdoor arena—a brutal gauntlet of obstacles designed to test speed, strength, and endurance. Students ran it one at a time while instructors timed them and ranked the results.

  Hanekawa watched Obito go first, all enthusiasm and determination. The kid was fast, genuinely talented, but still raw. He made it to the top fifteen.

  Kakashi went next and immediately dominated, finishing in the top five without breaking a sweat.

  When Hanekawa's turn came, he moved with controlled efficiency. He'd learned from watching the others—where to conserve energy, where to push hard. His smaller frame was actually an advantage on some obstacles. He finished in the top eight.

  Not bad. And I didn't even use the tags.

  Kurenai did better than last time, cracking the top twelve. She was furious about it anyway, glaring at Hanekawa like it was somehow his fault.

  As the sun began to set, Hanekawa excused himself and headed to an empty training ground on the village's edge. He pulled out one of the detonating tags, studying it carefully.

  The seal work was intricate but not incomprehensible. He could see how the fire ninjutsu was compressed into the paper, waiting for activation.

  He placed it on a rock and triggered it from a safe distance.

  The explosion was small but satisfying—a burst of flame that left the rock scorched and cracked.

  Good. This will work.

  Hanekawa smiled to himself, already planning his next move. Between the monthly stipend, the book project, and his expanding arsenal of tools, things were finally coming together.

  Not bad for a six-year-old spy.