Konoha.
Hokage's Office.
Sarutobi Hiruzen bit down lightly on the stem of his pipe, letting the curling tendrils of smoke rise before his face as he stared grimly at the documents scattered across his desk. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for another report. The anxiety that had settled in his chest refused to dissipate. Tension clung to the air in the Hokage's office like a thick fog.
According to the last known intel from the front lines, the situation had reached a boiling point.
A decisive battle was imminent.
And worse—both Jinchūriki from Kumogakure had appeared on the battlefield.
That could only mean one thing.
Kumogakure was preparing to unleash its full power.
They had endured, built up strength, waited for the right moment. And now, they were launching a counterattack that threatened to break Konoha's defenses entirely.
Hiruzen's gaze darkened as he stared into the rising smoke. His weathered face, creased from age and years of war, was half obscured behind the gray curls drifting upward. If Konoha fell here, there would be no mercy. Kumogakure would plunder everything—resources, secrets, land. A humiliating treaty would follow, one that stripped Konoha of its dignity.
But if they won…
Then Mirai's reputation—already burning bright—would rise to heights even beyond the legendary Fourth Hokage.
And that, Hiruzen could not bear.
He could not forget—would not forget—that it was Mirai who had executed Shimura Danzo. His old comrade. His lifelong friend.
A man he had led this village beside through dark years.
'Even if he is Minato's younger brother… even if he is the hero of this war… I cannot forgive him.'
Hiruzen exhaled sharply, running his fingers across his furrowed brow. His temples ached. The village was coming apart at the seams—Tsunade had left in a fury and refused to return despite repeated attempts to summon her. The medical corps was weakened. The political situation was volatile.
It felt like walking a tightrope, with an abyss yawning beneath every step.
And then—
*Clack*
The doors to the Hokage's office swung open.
"Hokage-sama! Urgent message from the front lines!"
A masked Anbu stepped in, quickly presenting a sealed scroll. His voice was taut with urgency.
Hiruzen took the scroll with trembling fingers. He stared at the seal for a moment longer before unrolling it.
His eyes scanned the contents—and widened instantly.
His pupils contracted.
"…Victory?"
He blinked once. Twice.
"…Victory?!"
His hands gripped the parchment tighter as he read faster.
"Namikaze Mirai engaged both Kumogakure Jinchūriki in combat. Using a divine-strike, he disabled the Eight-Tails. The Jinchūriki have been captured. The Raikage has signaled intent to surrender and is drawing up a truce agreement."
One line after another. Each more surreal than the last.
The words swam before his vision.
Kumogakure had… surrendered?
Mirai had faced two tailed beasts—and won?
Single-handedly?
He didn't even hear the scout calling his name repeatedly.
"Hokage-sama?"
"Hokage-sama!"
*Snap!*
The scroll slipped from his numb fingers and hit the ground with a sharp crack.
He was frozen.
Petrified.
…
Konoha Village. Early Spring.
As the ice thawed and rivers melted into flowing streams, the news of the battlefield triumph swept across the Land of Fire like a gentle, victorious breeze.
The village erupted in joyous celebration.
From the marketplaces to the training fields, every corner buzzed with energy. Vendors handed out free mochi. Children waved makeshift banners. A sense of pride, long buried beneath fear and uncertainty, returned to the faces of every villager.
"We won!"
"Two tailed beasts—two! And they still lost!"
"Namikaze Mirai-sama is even stronger than Lord Fourth!"
"After all, he's not just his brother—he's also the 'Blue Flash'!"
…
Outside the village gates, a sea of Konoha banners swayed as the victorious army returned home.
The troops, battle-hardened but beaming, marched in disciplined lines. Their morale was sky-high.
They had witnessed history.
The Blue Flash had struck down the Eight-Tails from the sky. One man against two living disasters—and he came out victorious.
At the head of the column rode Namikaze Mirai. Clad in a wind-flared cloak, his hair golden as sunlight, he led the troops with quiet dignity.
Behind him marched Uchiha Fugaku, whose expression mixed pride with awe. He watched the figure of Mirai with steady eyes.
'My decision was right.' he thought.
Uchiha's future was tied to this man.
Riding this rising wind, the clan would soar.
"Fugaku." Mirai spoke without turning. His voice was calm, but firm. "Once we return, it's time."
Fugaku's breath caught.
So the moment was truly upon them.
He leaned in, lowering his voice.
"…Is it beginning?"
Mirai's silence was answer enough.
Fugaku's heartbeat thundered in his ears.
'Hokage… The Fifth Hokage…'
Just saying those words in his mind sent a thrill through his chest. The future was changing. A new era was rising.
And with Mirai at its head… the Uchiha would finally break free from the shadows.
"Sarutobi Hiruzen has ruled for too long." Mirai said quietly. "Konoha needs someone new. Someone younger. Bolder."
Fugaku's eyes flashed.
Then he bowed his head solemnly.
"Uchiha will follow you to the death."
Their conversation ended.
Ahead, the village gates opened.
A roar exploded across the crowd.
"It's them!"
"They're back!"
"Our heroes!"
"Blue Flash! Blue Flash!!"
…
Inside the Hokage Tower, Sarutobi Hiruzen watched through the tall windows. The sounds of the crowd reached his ears clearly—each chant like a needle to the heart.
"Blue Flash!"
"Blue Flash!"
His hands tightened on the windowsill.
Back then, Minato had received this same praise.
Now his brother was surpassing him.
Even he had to admit it—Mirai's victory had shaken the world.
And Hiruzen… could feel his own legacy crumbling.
Behind him, Homura and Koharu stood in silence.
The cheers outside reached them too—and their expressions were just as grim.
Months ago, Danzo had died by Mirai's hands.
Now, his killer was Konoha's brightest star.
A hero.
It was infuriating.
Unstoppable.
…
Beneath the jubilation, secret letters began to flow.
Across rooftops, under doorways, through encoded channels, missives were delivered to clan leaders and key officials.
Each recipient read their letter in silence.
Some eyes widened. Some lips pursed. Others merely nodded.
None spoke.
Each quietly burned the message after reading.
They understood: a storm was coming.
And it would sweep through Konoha like wildfire.
Where they stood when the flames rose would determine their future… and that of their bloodlines.
…
Hatake Kakashi leaned against a wall outside the Hokage building, masked as always, arms folded.
A hawk landed beside him, carrying a sealed scroll.
He opened it.
Read the single page inside.
His body went still.
"Kakashi. At this time tomorrow, there will be a coup in the Hokage Tower."
"As Minato's only disciple, I hope you'll choose the correct side."
He exhaled sharply.
The Blue Flash was finally making his move.
His fingers tightened on the scroll.
'Mirai-sama… you're really doing this.'
He thought back to those long years.
The pain Naruto endured.
The nights alone. The whispers. The stares.
Mirai had once left it all behind.
Now he was back—to finish what should've been done long ago.
Kakashi looked up at the Hokage Monument.
'Lord Third… it's time to step aside.'
He took one final breath and let it out slowly.
"I failed Naruto once." he whispered, voice low.
"This time, I won't."
Beneath the silver hair and the porcelain mask…
Hatake Kakashi had chosen.
And the storm… was about to break.
*****
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