The morning sun hung low over Konoha, its golden rays glinting off the shattered windows of the Hokage Tower, where chaos reigned. The rooftop where Naruto stood was a windswept stage, the village sprawling below, its chatter drowned by the pounding of Jiraiya's heart. His white hair whipped in the breeze, his single arm trembling as he stared at his student, the boy he'd raised like a son. Naruto, defecting? The thought tore at him, a wound deeper than the loss of his arm in the Rain Village. You're the child of prophecy, he thought, his sage eyes searching Naruto's face for the boy he knew. Why are you breaking my heart?
Tsunade's voice thundered across the rooftop, her Hokage cloak billowing like a storm cloud. "Naruto, do you even hear yourself?!" Her amber eyes blazed, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened. Below, in the splintered office, Danzo slumped against the wall, blood pooling from his severed arm and empty eye socket, his remaining eye a furnace of rage and fear. Mitokado Homura and Utatane Koharu huddled in the shadows, their faces pale, their trust in Tsunade shaken. Shizune's hands glowed with medical chakra, struggling to stabilize Danzo, while Kakashi stood guard, his Sharingan spinning with disbelief.
Kakashi's voice was low, raw. "Naruto, what happened to you? It's been days, and you're… like this." His masked face hid his pain, but his eyes betrayed it—memories of Minato, of a student turned traitor, cutting deep.
Naruto stood silent, the culture bottle with Shisui's eye heavy in his pocket, Danzo's severed arm sealed in a scroll at his side. The wind carried the scent of Konoha's markets—ramen, fresh bread, morning dew—but it couldn't erase the weight of his actions. Jiraiya-sensei, Granny Tsunade, Kakashi-sensei… you're my family, he thought, his heart aching. But I can't tell you everything. Not yet. His sage-orange eyes, dimmed from Sage Mode, met theirs with a resolve forged in a future they couldn't imagine.
"I'm sorry," Naruto said, his voice steady but thick with emotion. "I know this sounds crazy, and if I told you the truth, you'd think I'm insane. It's too big, too heavy for anyone to carry with me—not until the time's right. The pressure… it's not something ordinary people can handle." He glanced at Danzo, his gaze hardening. "Fighting you all over this? Pointless. I'll bear it alone. It's the only way I can win."
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed, his sage instincts piecing together fragments of Naruto's actions. The boy's affection in the Rain Village, the popsicle shared under Konoha's stars, the request for Kurama's key, the theft of Shisui's eye and Danzo's arm—it wasn't random. Sage Mode, Flying Thunder God, Kurama's trust, Shisui's Kotoamatsukami, those Sharingan… Jiraiya's heart raced. He's gathering power, but for what? He stepped forward, his voice urgent. "Naruto, what enemy are you facing? You're collecting strength like a storm's coming!"
Naruto met his teacher's gaze, a flicker of warmth breaking through his resolve. You see it, Sensei. You always did. Jiraiya's concern, his fatherly intuition, stirred memories of late-night training, of laughter and wisdom. "Sensei, I told you—it's no use explaining now. Trust me, I'm still Uzumaki Naruto, the same kid who wants to be Hokage. My heart hasn't changed." His voice softened, heavy with the weight of his past life. "But if I don't do this, tragedies like the Uchiha clan will happen again."
Tsunade's fists slammed the rooftop, cracking stone. "The Uchiha clan's fall was a mess of history, Naruto! There was no fixing it!" Her voice cracked, torn between anger and desperation to understand.
Naruto shook his head, his gaze piercing. "I respect the Third Hokage, but I've seen the truth. The Uchiha massacre was a failure of his politics." His voice grew sharp, cutting through the morning air. "He let Danzo run wild, let Homura and Koharu's corruption fester. No high-ranking Uchiha advisor, just surveillance, spies in their homes, pushing them out of the village. Itachi was a victim, forced to slaughter his own clan to stop a coup that could've been prevented!"
Danzo spat blood, his voice a ragged snarl. "What do you know, brat? You think you understand a village? A Hokage?" His remaining eye burned, but fear lingered, his plans unraveling.
Naruto's laugh was cold, his demeanor shifting—a Hokage's authority radiating from a boy's frame. "I've been Hokage, Danzo. I know what you did." His words stunned the rooftop, Tsunade's breath catching, Kakashi's Sharingan freezing. "The Uchiha, one of Konoha's pillars, equal to the Hyuga, were distrusted since the Second Hokage. By the Third's time, you made it worse—spies in Fugaku's home, pushing Itachi to his breaking point. Orochimaru's defection, too—the Third did nothing real to stop it."
"Enough!" Tsunade and Jiraiya roared in unison, their voices shaking the air. Naruto's words were a blade, slicing through the legacy of two Hokages, questioning the Will of Fire itself.
Jiraiya stepped closer, his voice trembling with pain. "Naruto, one last time. If you keep this up, you're against me. Against Konoha. Are you following Nagato's path? Will you kill your teacher, too?"
Naruto's eyes softened, tears prickling as he looked at Jiraiya, the man who'd shaped him. "Sensei, I'd never stand against you. You're… you're my father in all but blood. I'm not Nagato." His voice cracked, memories of Jiraiya's death in his past life searing his heart. "I'm doing this to save you, to save everyone."
Jiraiya's fists clenched, his voice breaking. "Then why deny the Will of Fire? Why turn your back on Konoha?"
Naruto sighed, his expression weary but resolute. "I haven't abandoned the Will of Fire. I've found something bigger—the will of the Sage." Jiraiya's eyes widened, the prophecy from Chapter 20 echoing in his mind. Naruto continued, his voice steady. "Not Nagato's false god, Pain. I mean the Sage of the Six Paths, the true power above all, beyond the six realms' cycle. His will is merciless—if you're not strong enough, you're crushed, like an ant underfoot, without guilt or mercy. That's what's coming, Sensei."
Tsunade waved a hand, her voice sharp. "Naruto, that's nonsense! Surrender now, and I'll lighten your punishment!" Her heart ached, torn between duty and her love for the boy she saw as family.
Naruto snorted, his grin bittersweet. You're not ready, Granny. None of you are. His ideals, shaped by a war only he remembered, couldn't align with theirs yet. Hinata, Sasuke, Konoha—I'll protect you all. With a buzz, he vanished via Flying Thunder God, the air rippling where he'd stood.
Danzo's vision blurred, his body slumping as blood loss took its toll. His right eye, his arm—years of schemes, Shisui's Kotoamatsukami, the Sharingan—gone in moments. He vomited blood, his rage choking him as he collapsed, Shizune's hands glowing frantically to keep him alive.
Tsunade stared at the empty rooftop, her heart pounding. Naruto, why? Kakashi lowered his head, his Sharingan dim. Homura and Koharu whispered in fear, their faith in Konoha shaken. Jiraiya's gaze lingered on the horizon, Nagato's fall haunting him. The child of prophecy, carrying a burden I can't see. Naruto's words—the Sage's will, a coming storm—echoed, a promise and a warning.
Far from Konoha, Naruto reappeared in a forest clearing, the culture bottle and sealed arm heavy in his hands. The morning breeze carried Hinata's scent, her promise of ramen tonight a distant ache. I'm sorry, Hinata. I'll keep you safe. His mission—Pain, the Akatsuki, a war only he knew—loomed like a shadow. With Kurama's trust, Shisui's eye, and the Sage's will guiding him, Uzumaki Naruto, the time-traveled Hokage, stepped into the unknown, determined to rewrite fate.