At this moment, Uchiha Itachi leaned quietly against a withered tree, gazing up at the sky.
Orochimaru's words in the sky projection—especially that final, cutting mockery—echoed in his mind without end.
Of course he could see it. The Orochimaru in the projection had never truly intended to destroy Konoha.
"To make the windmill turn again…"
Perhaps Orochimaru really was, in his own mad and extreme way, "loving"—or at least paying attention to—Konoha, trying to "save" it.
Then… what about himself?
For the first time, clear and nearly undisguised confusion surfaced in Itachi's eyes.
Orochimaru was right… If I cannot even see myself clearly, how can I claim to see Konoha clearly? To see others clearly? To decide their fate?
An unprecedented wave of self-doubt and emptiness washed over him like icy tides.
Where should he go from here? Continue along the predetermined path—one filled with pain and contradiction? Or… reexamine everything?
Itachi did not know the answer.
At the same time, public opinion across the shinobi world took a shocking—and somewhat absurd—turn because of the revelation that Rasa had been killed, and the new interpretation of Orochimaru's motives.
"I—I'm crying! I really am! Orochimaru… he was actually trying to 'save' Konoha!"
"Exactly! He sought neither fame nor profit. He even bore the eternal infamy of being a traitor—all for Konoha's future! What kind of spirit is that?!"
"He must have seen through Konoha's internal decay long ago. He knew conventional methods couldn't fix it, so he orchestrated the Konoha Crush! Creating an external crisis to force reform and unity!"
"And look! To prevent Konoha from truly being destroyed, he even killed the real Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, in advance!"
"That turned Sunagakure's participation into a deception! It reduced Konoha's pressure and kept losses within acceptable limits!"
"He took all the blame and hatred onto himself! The Sand's hatred, Konoha's resentment—he bore it alone! All to give Konoha a chance to rebuild after destruction!"
"Waaah… I misunderstood Lord Orochimaru before! He's the true hero behind the scenes! A model of silent endurance!"
"I've decided! From today on, Orochimaru is my idol! My spiritual mentor! Bearing all infamy for the sake of an ideal—that's true strength!"
For a time, waves of "rehabilitation," glorification, and even worship of Orochimaru sprouted in certain corners of the shinobi world like mushrooms after rain.
His image shifted—from a mad, evil missing-nin scientist—to a far-sighted reformer, a tragic hero who endured disgrace to save his homeland at any cost.
Some even began "analyzing" the deeper meaning behind his every move.
"He just wants immortality! What's wrong with that?"
"Then congratulations."
A cold voice cut through the noisy praise in a bustling tavern.
"I hope you wake up tomorrow strapped to an operating table in one of your idol OrochimaruLord's underground bases—ready to become his next 'specimen' in pursuit of immortality or the mysteries of the human body."
The speaker was a scar-faced wandering samurai, his gaze sweeping over the flushed, overexcited "new Orochimaru fans" as if they were fools.
"This world never ceases to amaze," a middle-aged shinobi beside him scoffed. "People actually worship that monster?"
"So he killed Rasa. Who says that was 'for Konoha's good'? Maybe it was just more convenient for controlling Sunagakure—or maybe Rasa was simply in his way."
"He turned Konoha upside down. So many died. So many families were ruined. All for his absurd 'windmill theory.' And people are defending that?"
"Exactly! 'Hero behind the scenes'? 'Silent endurance'? He's a selfish lunatic who treats human lives like dirt, sacrificing everything for his own interests and ideology! If you like him, your brain must be broken!"
The light of the sky projection shifted once more.
The scars of war gradually healed. New buildings rose from ruins. The streets regained their former liveliness.
Konoha had suffered losses—but far fewer than many had expected.
In the images, Hyūga Neji appeared frequently.
He had become more proactive in clan affairs, and his relationships with clan members had softened.
His guidance toward Hinata grew more natural and sincere. The once-distorted bond shaped by the Main and Branch House system seemed to be evolving into something healthier—something closer to genuine sibling affection.
More surprising still was his relationship with Uzumaki Naruto.
The blond boy who had once shattered Neji's fatalism with fists and shouts on the arena stage had become one of the few people Neji could speak with as an equal.
"I'm going to bring that idiot Sasuke back! And then—I'm going to become Hokage! I'll make everyone acknowledge me!"
Naruto declared his dream to the setting sun, fist raised, his face blazing with undying passion.
Standing beside him, Neji watched this endlessly energetic companion. The orange glow of dusk reflected in his pale Byakugan.
A faint smile curved his lips as he nodded gently.
"Yes. I believe you, Naruto."
For the proud Hyūga Neji, those words carried immense weight.
It was not merely recognition of Naruto's strength, but affirmation of his spirit—the will to challenge the impossible.
Perhaps, in Neji's heart, Naruto had become a living symbol that destiny was not absolute.
With his extraordinary talent, relentless effort, and gradually untangled emotional knots, Neji's strength advanced rapidly.
He soon stood out among his peers and became one of Konoha's youngest Jōnin, having passed the rigorous promotion exam ahead of others.
The name of the Hyūga Clan's genius once again resounded through Konoha.
And yet—
Not long afterward, a piece of news struck like a bolt from the blue.
First—
Sakura Haruno… had defected.
When Neji heard the news, disbelief filled his pale eyes.
Sakura?
Why would she defect?
That's impossible…!
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