c108: The Passing of an Era
"Captain, your perception ninjutsu is really something else. You caught a spy without even moving."
As they made their way back through the dense underbrush, Uchiha Xiu couldn't help but marvel at what he had witnessed.
"Yeah, it's incredible. Is this one of the Uchiha clan's secret sensory techniques?" Uchiha Chen added, his curiosity piqued.
They weren't unlearned or inexperienced shinobi. Both had trained extensively and knew that the Hyuga's Byakugan, the Inuzuka clan's keen senses, and the Aburame's kikaichū tracking couldn't replicate what they had just seen—waiting for an infiltrator to stumble blindly into their web without them even having to show themselves.
"This isn't a Uchiha technique. It's a sensory ninjutsu developed by Orochimaru-sama," Gen replied calmly.
When something can't be explained or seems too unorthodox, blame the eccentric Sannin. Few dared question the strange abilities that emerged from Orochimaru's labs, and even fewer could prove otherwise. If anyone tried, Orochimaru's protection alone was more than enough to silence suspicion.
"As expected of one of the Legendary Three. To develop something that outperforms even clan hiden..." Xiu and Chen exchanged impressed glances, fully buying into the explanation. It made sense after all, Orochimaru had been known for his experimental brilliance.
"Xiu, take this spy to the Torture and Interrogation Division. Ibiki will know what to do."
"Understood. And Captain, on the way back… seventeen servings of instant noodles? The brothers are probably starving."
Gen gave a faint smile. "Exactly."
"Right away!" Xiu chuckled. That simple request solidified something for him: the new captain wasn't just capable, he actually cared. Even a small gesture like a bowl of noodles could go a long way in forging loyalty.
When Gen returned to their makeshift base in the woods, he leaned against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. Despite the minor ache in his temples, his soul perception technique still hummed silently in the background.
When Osamu returned, he brought not only the noodles but also helped distribute them with two other subordinates. It boosted morale and simultaneously allowed them to observe and patrol discreetly.
It wasn't that Gen disliked taking initiative. Rather, soul perception couldn't be split between clones. A shadow clone lacked the real soul and therefore couldn't use the technique. That was the tradeoff of soul-based sensory.
Separating the soul into multiple directions openly in front of subordinates was unwise; most trained shinobi could notice such abnormalities, especially those with Sharingan. That secret had to be guarded carefully.
The three of them made rounds through the outer perimeter, then returned to the center. Fire Release boiled the water swiftly, and the smell of noodles filled the air. Tired shinobi devoured their share happily. In the wild, under the open sky, with hunger gnawing, even instant noodles tasted divine.
The second half of the night passed quietly. At dawn, the Ninth Detachment disbanded to get some rest.
During the daytime, it was even harder for spies to slip into or out of the village. With Konoha's wide network of informants, surveillance was everywhere market vendors, postal workers, children, and even old folks sweeping their front steps could act as extra eyes and ears.
The Konoha Administrative Department had circulated bulletins urging vigilance against suspicious behavior. The villagers responded with enthusiasm. After all, a prosperous and safe Konoha meant safety for their families too.
With the help of the civilians, many ninjas could be diverted from internal patrols to the outskirts. During the day, the barrier teams.primarily composed of Uzumaki descendants and members of clans like the Yamanaka, Hyuga, and Nara—deployed an array of detection seals, barrier techniques, and sensory ninjutsu around the village.
Any spy with even half a brain would realize escaping during the day was a death sentence. Konoha didn't forgive espionage lightly, and captured foreign operatives rarely lived to see the next full moon.
Still, Konoha couldn't afford to lock down indefinitely. Trade caravans, foreign dignitaries, and neutral-country merchants entered daily. Complete isolation would cause economic and diplomatic chaos.
So, most infiltrators didn't have the will to die just to pass on intel. A few days of delay wouldn't drastically alter Konoha's strategic direction anyway there were no magical do-overs in shinobi politics.
…
The next day, Gen Uchiha hadn't slept all night. He intended to grab a few hours of rest after his shift but received a summons he was to attend the funeral of Fourth Hokage Namikaze Minato and the ceremony at the Memorial Monument.
There was no dodging this. Not all Uchiha were invited only Fugaku, the three elders, Shisui, and himself. It was a political honor, and absence would be noted.
Gen forced himself upright. Fortunately, his body was still young and resilient. After surviving the fatigue wall, he was operating on pure willpower.
Minato's funeral wasn't held at his home, it was too modest and too small. The ceremony was hosted in the Hokage Residence, with formal arrangements overseen by the village council and the Fire Daimyō's representatives.
Inside the grand ceremonial hall, Gen followed behind the clan head and elders. They bowed deeply in turn, then moved in a line around the chrysanthemum-covered dais and the raised platform bearing the open coffin.
The Fourth Hokage's body had been embalmed and treated with great care. His eyes were closed peacefully, and his hands rested folded across his abdomen. He looked as though he was simply resting a faint color on his cheeks, his golden hair neatly combed.
After laying his flowers, Gen stepped back. Kushina Uzumaki stood nearby, face pale and drawn. Her eyes were swollen, her expression distant. Beside her stood Kakashi Hatake, stoic in grief, and Shisui, somber and silent in mourning black.
Uchiha Mikoto was also present. With both Kakashi and Shisui being male juniors, Mikoto took the role of Kushina's emotional support. She stood quietly, offering strength without words.
Naruto was absent, of course. He was just an infant and couldn't attend such an event. Jiraiya wasn't present either.he may have still been away or hadn't received the message in time.
Fugaku offered his condolences personally. Among those gathered, none grieved more deeply than Kushina, but Fugaku's sorrow was perhaps second only to hers. Minato had been the man he had quietly supported for the Hokage seat—the bridge he hoped would mend the Uchiha's place in the village.
Now that bridge had collapsed.
The analogy wasn't pleasant, but it was apt: someone to whom you had lent a fortune had died, and there was no one left to collect the debt.
After the formal respects, most remained behind in the waiting hall. When the time came, Minato was taken to the Memorial Stone for burial, alongside the names of many others who had perished during the Nine-Tails' attack.
As the coffin was lowered, Kushina broke down. Silent tears gave way to sobs as she reached out desperately, as if she could still hold onto him. For a moment, it seemed she might throw herself into the grave.
Mikoto caught her just in time. Other mourners helped comfort her. Even for hardened shinobi who'd long become used to death, the scene was heart-wrenching.
As the earth closed over Minato's coffin, so too did an era come to an end—an era that carried so many hopes and impossible burdens.
Rain began to fall soft, persistent, not the explosive roar of a storm but the kind that seeps into the skin and soul alike. It didn't matter that umbrellas were brought out or cloaks were raised. The entire area near the Memorial Monument seemed to hold its breath in mourning.
At the front, the slender figure in black mourning robes, red hair draped down her back, bowed deeply. The sight of Kushina in grief stirred complex emotions in those gathered.
Rationally, they knew she was a victim. It was the masked attacker who had released the Nine-Tails. Minato had died sealing the beast to protect them all.
But emotionally… seeing her brought an awkward, subtle tension. The Nine-Tails had emerged from her body. Many had lost loved ones that night. It wasn't blame they felt just something unspoken, a gulf they didn't know how to bridge.
When the ceremony concluded, the mourners quietly dispersed in the rain, returning to their duties, their homes, or their grief.
…
Three more days passed. By then, the ruins across Konoha had been cleared. Reconstruction was officially scheduled to begin.
But the night before the rebuilding conference, a silent meeting took place. Danzo Shimura visited the home of Mitokado Homura.
There, he urged Homura to gather Utatane Koharu and the retired Third Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen.
The gears of the old generation were starting to turn once again.
And as for the story's author.he realized with a wry smile that he had nearly exhausted his outline. Writing without a roadmap was exhausting and slow.
He wouldn't stop updating, but perhaps, for the next few chapters, only two would come each day.
Please bear with him.
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