Morning found Yūshin touring the temple as usual, accompanied by the monks.
He'd been prepared for another major confrontation. Surprisingly, his luck seemed to hold this time. The owner hadn't realized anything was missing.
Well, the real owner was currently sleeping more soundly than a coma patient. You couldn't exactly expect a vessel to pop into the "warehouse" for an inventory check.
Jigen, as the shell for Isshiki Ōtsutsuki, could only stand guard outside the "door." The door was intact. No one had tried to attack the security guard. No need to wake the sleeping boss.
And this boss was one who'd been bitten in half by the Ten-Tails, a man so miserable he could carve the character for "miserable" into the ground seven times over. Best not to disturb him if possible. A guy like that? His morning temper had to be terrifying.
So, Yūshin completed his routine tour. He ate, drank, and even enjoyed the hot springs before leaving, thoroughly satisfied.
All in all, the haul had been substantial.
He set off for the Land of Fire at a leisurely, unhurried pace. The journey stretched on for months.
...
To the Shinobi World at that time, the war seemed over. Yet, many felt it was merely an intermission, a brief pause before the next act.
Konoha had completely withdrawn its forces from the Land of Rain. Even Jiraiya, who had lingered, had returned to the village.
It wasn't hard to see this wasn't an end, just a halftime break. The logic was simple: the losses each side suffered, while severe enough to "break bones," weren't fatal. And none had achieved their true objectives.
The saying goes, "A hundred days to heal broken bones." But what happens after those hundred days?
In Konoha, fifteen-year-old Kushina Uzumaki had never experienced war. She brimmed with excessive vitality… Of course, with a precedent like Genka Minadono, her "activeness" in the village was practically tame.
Right now, Kushina was fuming. She'd lost—again—to some of her peers.
Initially, her life's goal had also been to become Hokage. But that goal felt increasingly distant… Her ambition was high, but not sky-high. She had dreams, but they weren't absolute.
The reality, of course, was the exact opposite. It was a trip that had nearly crashed and burned.
"You're awake? Seems like a successful dimensional trip."
Yūshin couldn't let that vulgarity slip out. He spoke first.
"Wha—"
That face looked familiar. Huh? Orochimaru?
The popsicle's eyes slowly opened. He shook his head hard, disoriented, before his gaze landed on the figure opposite him.
He placed a hand on a block of solid ice. In an instant, it melted. The seal on Sakumo's consciousness dissolved.
Truth was, while the messenger bird was still crossing the night sky, Yūshin had already entered the chamber housing the popsicles.
After the others left, Shikano remained, waiting.
of all times, leaving sentences half-finished?NowIf not for the old man's accumulated authority, someone might have brained him with a brick.
Shikano waved a dismissive hand, offering no explanation, just shooing the shinobi away.
"Lord Shikano, you know where Lord Sakumo is?" someone asked.
"Clean up the blood. Everyone disperse. Seal your lips about tonight. Sakumo will return by morning."
And after all these years, he'd begun to form some… reasonable suspicions.
Bizarre, but relieved. From that brief sentence, he understood Lord Yūshin was aware of the situation.
Then, Shikano unfolded the message. After reading the single line, his expression turned utterly bizarre.
The back-and-forth messages ate up time, bringing them close to dawn. Some of the more radical Owl Organization members were already secretly considering… confrontation with the village. No, "cleansing the leadership's ranks."
Either way, Sakumo's perception would be identical.
After mastering Shichimi's Sharingan, Yūshin actually had the power to send the popsicles directly back to their original point of disappearance. But that was troublesome, a waste of ocular power. The crude dimensional trip method had the same effect. Why bother thawing Sakumo?
"Huh? Sakumo disappears around now?"
Yūshin was currently wandering the eastern coastline. Thankfully, he wasn't in a separate dimension or Kaguya's space, or he wouldn't have received the message at all.
Okay, it was asking logic to take a vacation.
Honestly, that was asking a bit much.
Applied to the current situation: Sakumo Hatake, after disappearing, would need to enter the secret chamber and personally release his frozen self…
A good plan. Its only flaw? The authority to release said popsicles was delegated to the Owl Organization's leader.
Theoretically, according to Yūshin's "emergency plans," if certain events occurred, the "popsicles" would be released even in his absence.
Shikano had no clues, but he knew who to call next. This time, he got the right target.
Messing with his organization was playing with fire.
Honestly, Yūshin might look old and mild-tempered, but… really?
Shikano rushed over, examined the "crime scene," and was equally puzzled. As for the theory of Konoha's higher-ups secretly moving against the Owl Organization's leader? Nonsense. The core leadership knew Yūshin was still alive.
While they sealed the scene, Shikaku hurried to a nearby compound to meet Shikano. The advantage of the Owl Organization members living in proximity was proven once more.
Who? None other than Shikano Nara, who was enjoying his leisurely retirement.
"Don't panic. I know who to ask for a solution." Shikaku tried to calm everyone.
A key figure like Sakumo Hatake couldn't remain unaccounted for.
"But we can't hide this for long. Tomorrow morning at the latest."
Was this the shinobi world's version of "once the hares are hunted, the hounds are boiled"? Sakumo's attack and disappearance might involve Konoha's internal power struggles. Given that possibility, they absolutely shouldn't let the higher-ups track the Owl Organization's movements from the start.
Someone caught Shikaku's implication and immediately fell silent.
"You mean…"
?"within Konoha"No…" Shikaku raised a hand, subtly hinting, "The war is over. Who could ambush Lord Sakumo so silently
"Should we report this to the village? Mobilize a search for Lord Sakumo," another suggested.
could do such a thing. It was all a fox's doing.No oneIf Yūshin were here, he'd report it immediately.
"But with Lord Sakumo's skill… who could ambush him and make him vanish without a trace? Even if injuring him is possible, he couldn't have been rendered completely helpless, right?"
"Strange. No signs of a struggle. An ambush?"
The "widow and orphan" were too distraught. A Hatake clansman answered.
"Yes. Confirmed."
"Can we confirm this is Lord Sakumo's blood?"
Shikaku crouched, dipping a finger into the blood. He rubbed his fingertips together before speaking.
In this ordinary room, a pool of blood stained the floor, making it look like a crime scene. Yet, there was no victim's body.
The other half of the people present were from the Owl Organization, led by Shikaku Nara.
He wasn't just being raised like a pampered puppy. His eyes held the vacant, defeated stare of a college graduate who'd failed all his job interviews and lost his "new grad" status.
this time, he wasn't embracing a battlefield, but his mother's bosom.enoughBut misfortune had struck. Because his life wasn't tragic
Theoretically, this child should graduate from the Academy this year, become a Chūnin next year, and by the tender age of six, reach the pinnacle of a twelve-year-old's life, becoming the poster child for tragic, brooding protagonists.
Several Hatake clansmen now surrounded a woman, who held a child with shockingly white hair for his age.
The owner of this residence was named Sakumo Hatake—or perhaps just Sakumo, as he had set aside his clan name.
happened in the village.hadSomething major
That very night, a certain mansion in Konoha blazed with light.
But because the fox had a black nose and black lips, his words sometimes carried an unintended prophetic weight.
Both the fox and the Uchiha were excellent at role-playing, their acting skills putting all the "big brothers" to shame.
this month…"again"The war's over. What big thing could happen? The big thing is we're in the red
The chef, whose motives for running the shop were impure and whose skills were questionable, tried to deflect the awkwardness.
"I have a feeling… something big is about to happen."
The chef responded immediately, offering no excuse. Mainly because the apprentice's ramen skills had already surpassed his own.
"Got it."
The apprentice hadn't missed the chef's lapse in concentration.
"Master, we have a lot of customers tonight. Stay focused."
Some distance away, a ramen chef who had been mechanically kneading dough suddenly regained his usual fluid movements.
An object of such ill omen would startle anyone.
"Sha… Sharingan…"
Kushina yelped, reflexively throwing the sword to the floor.
A dirty attic. A girl. Suddenly appearing eyes. The scene was distinctly… unsettling.
Instantly, a huge surge of her chakra was ripped away. Then, two crimson eyes snapped open on the wooden blade!
This time, she didn't expect an answer. She simply reached out and picked up the wooden sword.
"Huh? What's the use of this?"
Take the weapon. A small gift…
Except for an exquisite lacquered sword stand holding a worn wooden practice sword. It looked more like a toy than a weapon. The hilt even seemed on the verge of sprouting.
It was empty.
"Playing mysterious games," Kushina muttered, but she crouched and moved to the very back.
To the far end…
Compared to the clean floors below, the attic was a world of dust and spiderwebs.
the ancestral hall.wasShe was being oddly proper, using the ladder instead of jumping around like a shinobi. But this
Well, she was already here. Gritting her teeth, she pulled out the hidden ladder, climbed up, and pushed open the sealed attic entrance.
No answer, of course.
"Who are you?"
a way up—a narrow attic. Not stairs, but a pull-down ladder.wasThere
Keep going.
She climbed to the second floor, scanning the area. Nothing unusual. But as she moved to the far side, the voice came again.
No time to overthink. She decided to check.
Go up? A trap?
Kushina's hand flew to a kunai, gripping it tightly.
A strange voice echoed directly in her mind.
Go up.
But if another shinobi had infiltrated? That was different.
The wall behind her was covered in various masks, casting deep shadows. She wasn't afraid of ghosts. If a spirit appeared here, it'd be an ancestral Uzumaki spirit. Family, even in death. Nothing to fear.
"Who's there?"
Despite her mood, a shinobi's basic alertness kicked in. She sprang to her feet, gaze snapping upward.
echoed from the old staircase above her.creakAs Kushina wallowed in deep self-doubt, a sudden
Genius or not, someone once said… "Compared to XX, any shinobi seems lacking."
Weird. Why couldn't she beat her peers? Did true geniuses really exist?
Passing the rows of memorial tablets in the main hall, she offered a perfunctory bow. Then she moved deeper into the building, finally sinking down on a worn wooden staircase, hugging her knees.
The ancestral hall was usually deserted, a perfect place to hide and nurse wounded pride. After a moment's thought, Kushina stepped inside.
grandson was the real patriarch.ThatIt wasn't meaningless just because Yūshin was still alive. He was more the "ancestor of the ancestors." The Uzumaki clan truly coalesced around his grandson's generation.
Puffing out her cheeks, Kushina wandered the village aimlessly. She eventually found herself before the shrine the Uzumaki clan maintained within Konoha—a place to honor their ancestors.
Regardless, the gap between "Hokage" and "housewife" was massive. A life aiming for the former but ending up the latter would feel… disjointed.
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