He didn't bother pursuing Kisame. By now, the shark-man had already reached the village with the three brats. Chasing him was pointless.
Akuma's steps carried him to the nearest river. He crouched at the bank, dipping his bloodstained hands and feet into the cool water. He scrubbed his clothes until they were clean enough to pass unnoticed, then straightened.
His eyes narrowed as he gazed toward the distant horizon.
Tsunade.
The Strength of a Hundred Seal was his next target. With his own mastery of chakra control immortality would no longer be a dream but a certainty.
Without hesitation, Akuma began walking toward the nearest town, his mind already plotting how to gather information on her whereabouts.
Two days had passed since the death of the Third Hokage.
The village of Konoha gathered in mourning. The skies wept with them, rain pouring heavily, streaking down their faces like shared tears.
Naruto stood silently, his gaze fixed on the countless coffins laid before him. Families clung to them, crying out for loved ones who would never return. The boy's fists clenched as a storm brewed inside his heart. For the first time, he truly began to wonder about the meaning of life and death as a shinobi.
Close by, Sakura sobbed uncontrollably, her body draped over two coffins. Both her parents had been killed in the attack. Her cries cut through the rain like knives.
Sasuke, still recovering from his severed limb, sat in silence. His face was dark and unreadable. Watching Sakura collapse in despair, watching the villagers crumble around him, he couldn't suppress the crushing weight in his chest.
Naruto's sorrow twisted into fury. He could feel it in every tear shed, in every cry that echoed through the downpour. The villagers all shared the same desire. Their pain had one source. One name.
Akuma.
Every eye that lifted from the coffins burned with vengeance.
Farther back in the crowd, Kakashi stood quietly, his lone visible eye heavy with worry. His attention wasn't only on the coffins but on his old friend.
Might Guy stood apart, half-hidden, as though ashamed to show his face. For days now, Kakashi had seen him like this silent, unenergetic, crushed beneath the unbearable weight of grief. He had never seen Guy lose hope before, and it terrified him.
Nearby, Rock Lee shared the same torment. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his face drawn in despair. He couldn't bring himself to believe it. His little brother Akuma had caused this devastation.
He could still see the boy's kind face in his memories, the one who cheered for him with flowers, who encouraged him when he faltered, who laughed and trained beside him. The one he would have trusted with his life.
How could that same boy become the monster everyone now cursed?
Lee's chest tightened. To him, it felt as though Akuma had died too.
In the meeting hall of Konoha, the council of elders sat around the long table, their eyes fixed on the Fire Daimyō.
"Repairing more than half the village will be a tremendous financial burden," the daimyō said gravely. "With so many shinobi dead and the village unstable, the situation is deeply concerning. We must appoint a Hokage quickly—someone who can stabilize the village and restore morale, before other nations attempt to exploit our weakness. If you have any candidates in mind, speak."
Elder Homura Mitokado leaned forward, his voice firm.
"At this time, there is only one suitable candidate—Jiraiya of the Sannin. His strength is unquestionable. He has completed countless S-rank missions. He has wisdom, experience, and the ability to lead. Most importantly, his loyalty to Konoha has never wavered. I put his name forward."
Koharu Utatane nodded in agreement.
"I share Homura's opinion. Jiraiya is the best option left to us."
The Fire Daimyō considered their words for a moment, then gave a slow nod.
"Very well. If the council is in agreement, let us appoint Jiraiya as the new Hokage. Now… let us move on to other matters: the village finances, rebuilding efforts, and long-term stability."
The discussion shifted, their voices blending into the heavy silence of the war-torn chamber.
Meanwhile, in a nearby town, Akuma pushed open the doors of a noisy gambling den. Smoke, dice, and shouts filled the air as gamblers argued over their winnings. His sharp gaze swept the room. He wasn't here to play. He was here for information.
It didn't take long. Everyone in the gambling world knew the name Tsunade. She was a legend, if you sat at the same table as her, fortune itself seemed to turn on its head. But that fame came with another title: the Legendary Sucker. No one lost harder than Tsunade.
Unfortunately for Akuma, the whispers all carried the same truth Tsunade was not in the town.