Throughout the entire night, the flames born of that twisted Wood Release raged without pause. They devoured everything in their path with a hunger that seemed endless, as though they would not rest until Konoha itself was reduced to ash. The fire's eerie glow turned the night sky blood-red, and its heat warped the air, carrying with it a heavy stench of decay and death.
It was not until the pale light of dawn crept over the horizon that the cursed blaze finally began to weaken, its once-roaring fury subsiding into smoldering embers. But the devastation it left behind was irreversible—an undeniable scar carved deep into the heart of the Leaf Village.
Countdown to the destruction of the Shinobi World: 38 days remaining.
Inside the Hokage's Office, the atmosphere was as heavy as lead.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat slumped in his chair, his face shadowed and drawn with exhaustion. The faint scent of smoke from the night's calamity still lingered in the air, clinging to his robes and the wooden walls. Before him, the table was stacked with scrolls and reports; the ink on some was still damp, hastily written by shaken shinobi through the night.
Moments earlier, he had seen off Koharu and Homura, along with the heads of every major clan and the jonin representatives. Now, the office was finally silent.
He exhaled a long, weary sigh, a breath that seemed to carry the weight of decades. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for the newest damage report, scanning it line by line. With every sentence, his expression darkened.
The report confirmed his worst fears: though civilian and shinobi casualties were surprisingly light, Konoha's vast reserves of supplies and resources, painstakingly accumulated over generations, had been reduced to cinders overnight. The infrastructure that supported the village's strength had been crippled.
And yet, what exhausted Hiruzen even more than the numbers on the page was politics.
The village elders had not only questioned his decision to apprehend Danzo…They openly accused him of staging the incident, suggesting that the Hokage himself had falsely branded Danzo in order to consolidate his authority.
Their voices of suspicion had been relentless, a chorus of accusation echoing through the chamber like knives in his chest.
Had it not been for Tobirama's sudden appearance—his teacher's icy glare silencing the room and forcing even Homura and Koharu to bow their heads—Hiruzen might have lost control of the council entirely.
Even so, the memory of their indignant faces as they stormed out lingered, filling him with bitter sorrow. Worse yet, he could not ignore the faint shadow of tension now forming between himself and his beloved teacher.
The events of the previous night replayed in his mind: Tobirama's harsh words to Kakashi, his stubborn intolerance of the Uchiha's power. Hiruzen had always revered his teacher, but this… this rigid, unyielding side of him was something that left the Third Hokage's heart aching with conflict.
He leaned back, rubbing his temple as if the motion could ease the storm in his mind.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Father…"
The voice was calm, gentle, yet carried a quiet strength. It belonged to his eldest son, Sarutobi Shinnosuke—the stoic Anbu Captain who had long been Hiruzen's pride.
"Come in, Shinnosuke," Hiruzen said softly, straightening his posture and forcing his expression to steady.
The door slid open, and Shinnosuke entered, his face grave and professional, though a trace of concern lingered in his eyes. He approached the desk and handed over a neatly bound scroll.
"Father, the village's damage assessment is nearly complete. I've compiled the latest numbers here for your review," he reported with crisp efficiency.
Hiruzen accepted the scroll, his fingers brushing over the fresh ink. His weary eyes scanned the contents for a moment before looking up at his son with a faint smile. "You've done well, Shinnosuke. Thank you."
Shinnosuke's heart tightened at the sight of his father's fatigue. The once-vibrant Hokage, who had led Konoha through countless storms, now seemed smaller somehow—his shoulders weighed down by invisible burdens.
"Father…" Shinnosuke's voice softened, his eyes steady and sincere. "You shouldn't shoulder this alone. Uncle Danzo may oppose you now, but both of you have walked the same path, inherited the same Will of Fire. One day… I believe you'll understand each other again."
For a moment, Hiruzen said nothing. But his eyes warmed at his son's words, the faintest spark of hope flickering behind their weariness. He gave a slow nod. "Perhaps… Perhaps one day, we will."
Then Shinnosuke straightened, resolve hardening in his gaze.
"Father, I intend to resign from my position as Anbu Captain," he declared.
Hiruzen's brows lifted slightly. "Oh? And why is that?"
"The countdown to this world's destruction has already begun," Shinnosuke replied solemnly. "I can no longer be confined solely to covert operations. I wish to stand by your side, to share the burden of protecting the village—not as Anbu Captain, but as your son."
Hiruzen stared at him for a moment, the weight of his words settling over him. Then a warmth spread through his chest, washing away some of the night's bitterness. He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth softening with pride.
"…You've grown well, Shinnosuke."
As if sensing his father's momentary relief, Shinnosuke's stern face softened, and he chuckled. "Speaking of family… Konohamaru is almost a year old now, isn't he?"
At that, Hiruzen's expression brightened, his tired face easing with warmth. "Yes… he must be crawling everywhere by now."
Shinnosuke's lips curled into a genuine smile. "Crawling? He's practically sprinting. That little rascal is terrorizing the house—climbing anything he can get his hands on."
For the first time in what felt like days, laughter filled the Hokage's Office. The oppressive tension lifted, replaced by a moment of pure, familial warmth.
"Ah… If only Asuma were as gentle and dependable as you," Hiruzen mused with a chuckle, though there was no real bite in his tone.
Shinnosuke shook his head, amused. "Don't worry. I'll give Asuma a proper lecture when I see him next. I'll knock some sense into him."
Hiruzen's laughter deepened, his face softening as the years seemed to fall from his shoulders. For a fleeting moment, surrounded by family, he felt peace.
The father and son spoke for a little while longer, basking in that rare sense of comfort. But eventually, duty called, and Shinnosuke bowed his head respectfully before slipping out of the office, leaving his father in quiet contemplation once more.
As Shinnosuke slid the office door open and stepped out, the corridor outside was already occupied. Waiting there stood Tsunade and Jiraiya, their presence commanding and steady despite the night's chaos. Between them loomed a third figure—a mysterious shinobi draped in a gray cloak, face completely obscured beneath a shadowed hood.
The tension in the air was palpable, yet neither Tsunade nor Jiraiya spoke. They moved aside as Shinnosuke passed, then entered the Hokage's Office.
Inside, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat at his desk, his expression softened by a rare moment of warmth after his conversation with his son. Seeing that look of peace, both Tsunade and Jiraiya felt some of the heaviness in their hearts ease—if only slightly.
That fragile calm was shattered almost immediately.
"Kakashi," came a cold, commanding voice. "Where is he now?"
The words came from Senju Tobirama, whose stern eyes glimmered with sharpness as they settled on his former student.
Hiruzen's face darkened; the weight of his teacher's presence pressed down on him like a stormcloud. The faint smile he had worn vanished entirely, replaced by a familiar heaviness.
Tsunade crossed her arms, annoyance flickering in her golden eyes. "Kakashi is watching over Naruto," she said, her voice edged with displeasure.
"Uzumaki Naruto?" Tobirama's brow furrowed, his sharp gaze narrowing further. "You entrusted the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki to him?"
That was enough to make Tsunade bristle, her temper flaring. "Grandpa Second, you need to stop doubting Kakashi. He's earned his place in this village a hundred times over."
Tobirama's frown deepened, a spark of irritation flashing across his features. "You know the danger the Sharingan represents, and yet you place blind faith in this man?"
"You're clinging to an outdated way of thinking," Tsunade snapped, her voice rising. "You're still stuck in the Warring States era—unable to see beyond your old prejudices."
Her words hit like a slap. For a fleeting moment, Tobirama's eyes burned with quiet fury; Tsunade alone among Konoha's shinobi could speak to him so bluntly and remain standing.
"You dare—"
"Enough," Hiruzen muttered, massaging his temples, his patience thinning. But Tsunade wasn't finished.
"Hatake Kakashi isn't an Uchiha," she pressed, her voice cutting through the tension. "His Sharingan was a gift, a legacy from a friend who trusted him with his dying breath."
She recounted Kakashi's history with Obito, her voice steady but seething with indignation.
Tobirama, however, remained unmoved, his face carved from stone. "The Sharingan is a curse, no matter whose hands hold it. Power like that breeds calamity. I won't allow sentimentality to blind us—not now."
Jiraiya, who had been leaning casually against the wall, finally pushed himself upright, his voice breaking the rising tension. "Lord Second, you're talking about Minato's student. Naruto is Minato's son. Who else would you trust to watch over him if not someone who loved and respected Minato?"
"And I," Tsunade added firmly, "was Minato's comrade. Jiraiya was his teacher. Kakashi was his protégé. Naruto is surrounded by family, whether by blood or not."
For the first time, Tobirama's eyes flicked to Jiraiya, assessing him coldly. "Your Sage Mode. How far have you mastered it?"
Jiraiya scratched his cheek, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I can hold Sage Mode briefly. Not perfect, but enough."
Tobirama's gaze hardened. He said nothing, but in his mind he was already cataloguing Jiraiya's capabilities, calculating power balances, and reassessing the chain of command.
"Little Tsunade," Tobirama's voice finally cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. "You speak with confidence, but you don't understand the weight of my caution. This is no time for naivety. With the world as it is, every potential threat must be eradicated. Even the smallest ember can set the village ablaze."
Tsunade's fists clenched, her voice trembling with fury. "You're talking about ripping a man's eye from his skull! You'd brand him a traitor for carrying his friend's dying wish?"
Tobirama's expression chilled further. "That eye is a weapon, Tsunade. A weapon more dangerous than you can comprehend. Kakashi may not be Uchiha by blood, but he bears their curse."
His words struck deep, and though Tsunade's body stiffened with defiance, a part of her still felt the weight of his authority. The Second Hokage's cold logic had silenced shinobi far stronger than her, and even she instinctively shrank back under the sheer presence he radiated.
Still, she did not falter. She remembered Kakashi's quiet resolve, his words that had convinced her to return to the village. She would not let Tobirama condemn him so easily.
Jiraiya's sharp eyes flicked to Hiruzen, sensing the growing rift. "Old man," he said quietly, "you're awfully silent."
Hiruzen exhaled heavily, the sound of a man who carried too much. His voice came out low and tired. "Tobirama-sensei… I am an incompetent Hokage. If you believe this matter requires your hand, then… handle it as you see fit."
The words hung in the air like a heavy pall.
Tobirama's expression darkened further, anger crackling beneath his calm façade. "You said that yesterday as well," he growled. "Do you repeat it now to mock me? To undermine me?"
The tension in the office was suffocating.
In that room sat the true heart of Konoha's power: the Hokage, his successor's students, and the very founder of the shinobi village system. Yet unity was nowhere to be found.
Tsunade's jaw clenched in disgust. To her, Tobirama was a relic of an age that should have passed—a man so mired in old grudges that he could no longer see the future he once dreamed of building.
Jiraiya leaned back against the wall again, crossing his arms. His expression made his stance clear.
Even Hiruzen himself, once Tobirama's loyal student, felt his faith in his teacher eroding.
The Second Hokage's gaze swept over them all, burning with contempt. "So, this is what my legacy has become. Unfilial descendants… blinded by sentiment. Do you not understand? This village is not a democracy. Leadership is not a council. Konoha must be ruled like a fortress—efficiently, decisively. If that makes me a tyrant, so be it."
He straightened his back, his voice a low rumble of authority. "From this moment, martial law is in effect. All operations will fall under my direct command. You three will follow my orders without question."
His piercing gaze settled on Jiraiya. "Your first task: monitor Kakashi. From this point forward, your priority is to oversee both him and the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki. That is all."
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Outside the Hokage's Office, another meeting was quietly unfolding.
Kakashi stood in the dimly lit corridor, leaning casually against the wall, his visible eye unreadable as always.
Across from him stood Shinnosuke, his posture calm yet resolute.
"Captain," Kakashi said softly in greeting.
"I'm no longer the Anbu Captain, Kakashi," Shinnosuke replied, his voice calm but firm. He took a step closer, lowering his tone. "Do you have time to talk?"