In the darkness of the room, Shorai sat on the edge of his bed, a faint smile resting on his face.
His gaze was fixed on the far wall.
Beside the door hung a drawing, barely visible beneath the weak moonlight spilling through the window.
Ino had given it to him long ago.
It showed him from the side, seated at his Academy desk with his right hand supporting his chin. His expression rested somewhere between boredom and a frown, as though he had been caught in the middle of silently judging a lesson.
Shorai stared at it.
'I still wonder when she managed to draw me like that in class.'
He had told Ino during one of their dates that he liked the drawing. That had been true. More than that, it had become one of the few things in the apartment that made the place feel less like a temporary shelter and more like somewhere he belonged.
The Stoic Clone opened his eyes beside him.
"Getting sentimental, are we?" His tone was flat. "Counterproductive. The experience will arrive shortly. Get a grip."
"For once, I agree with him, Original," the Whimsical Clone said, glancing between them. "The calm state we established is necessary for the plan. Nostalgia and attachment can disturb it before you recognize the shift."
Shorai did not answer immediately.
His eyes remained on the drawing.
Then he spoke quietly.
"I am returning to the Soul Space. The moment I am there, end the jutsu."
The Stoic Clone's gaze sharpened.
"Now that we have established the correct path for rebuilding the body, you choose to entertain what may destabilize the mind."
His eyes rested briefly on the drawing.
"That girl. The village. The artifact."
His attention returned to Shorai.
"You keep calling them important."
His voice lowered.
"And I still call them anchors."
"Again? The drawing is not a threat," Shorai said.
"Anything that pulls at the mind can become one."
Stoic rose to his feet.
"You are not an Uchiha. You are not from a bloodline whose strength answers emotional extremes. Your chakra does not become more stable because you feel more strongly."
His gaze drifted toward Shorai's hand.
"You possess an artifact that may respond to intention, desire, memory, and will. Emotional anchors are not automatically strength. They are variables you do not understand."
Shorai turned his head slightly.
"Your concern is no less dangerous than mine. You are obsessed with control. Are you truly unaware of the similarity?"
"I am fully aware of what I am, Original."
Stoic's expression did not change.
"Fear of the unknown is the default condition of human beings. Fear of death. Fear of loss. Fear of having no agency when the world decides to take something from you."
"Rules. Philosophies. Doctrines. Beliefs." His eyes narrowed. "Attempts to create order from uncertainty."
"A sedative for the mind. A suggestion for some. A necessary prescription for others."
His gaze remained fixed on Shorai.
"When your own prescription proved insufficient, you summoned me."
"Your Dao Heart is still a theory. A philosophy you hope will survive reality."
Stoic's mouth curved into a thin smile.
"I am the expression of your solace. The mechanism of control you created to make uncertainty bearable."
"The last layer of defense."
Stoic's smile widened.
"A reliable one."
"You can bury me within that mind of yours," Stoic continued. "I will surface when reality gives you a condition no amount of preparation can place safely within your hand."
"You do not have time to indulge every unstable state merely to prove that your heart can survive it. You have one body. One life."
He raised a hand, closing it slowly into a fist.
"That is where you have me. Control. The part of you that prevents a single mistake from costing the potential self you insist on protecting."
Shorai's mouth curved into a thin smile.
"Are you lecturing yourself on mortality, or on how best to cope with fear?"
"Reading, witnessing, and living through death does not erase the unknown. It makes a person more capable of accepting it."
His eyes lowered briefly.
"A fact I experienced rather curiously twelve years ago."
"That is either a convenient belief," Stoic said, "or another dose of the same sedative."
"Good. You tasted it for a few minutes."
Shorai's expression remained calm.
"No need to twist the simplicity of the words. It is comprehension born from experience."
He met Stoic's eyes.
"Rationalization. An earned one."
Stoic gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
"You say that as though comprehension makes you immune to influence."
He glanced at the drawing again.
"The inherent needs of a man. What did you call one of them?"
"The need to be free," Stoic said.
His mouth curved faintly. "And yet you speak of a willful bond between two individuals as though freedom cannot be bent by affection."
"I am only refreshing your memory with your own words."
The Stoic Clone smirked.
"Manipulation can be positive or negative. Did you not say that to her?"
"Influence remains influence. It simply comes from the person you choose to call a loved one. A muse. The person who makes you move forward."
He pointed toward Shorai's wrist.
"Start counting. The bracelet. The drifting thoughts. The strange words you heard before waking in this bed."
His eyes narrowed.
"And the warm touch you felt when you woke at Tsunade's side."
"You still believe your hand is the only thing guiding it?"
Silence stretched between them.
Shorai slowly stood.
"You want me to forfeit what you call my ignorant approach."
His voice remained controlled.
"I cannot trust my own will, you say. I cannot test the self. I cannot step outside a permitted experience."
His gaze hardened.
"All so you can finally have the space to leash the world."
"Not a controlled experience that teaches me how to endure reality," Shorai continued. "An experience you dictate as contained, permitted, and non-responsive."
"That is the natural outcome of your philosophy."
"Some researchers might call the brain a parasite—a thing that protects the body it inhabits because preserving the body also preserves itself. It seeks safety, control, and predictability."
He looked directly at Stoic.
"You are that manifestation within me."
"But when something appears beyond your ability to control, beyond the safety of preparation, that instinct becomes a weakness."
"The moment your carefully built prison crumbles."
Shorai's voice became quieter.
"If I remain within safe conditions for too long, then an unpredictable event may fracture my Dao Heart more thoroughly than any emotion ever could."
Silence settled over the room.
Stoic did not answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on Shorai, cold and unreadable.
"A moving speech," the Whimsical Clone said at last.
Both of them looked toward him.
He had been lying on his back beside the bed, one arm beneath his head, staring at the ceiling as though the argument had been nothing more than an interesting show. But the smile on his face had faded.
"You two really do love making the same mistake from opposite directions."
Stoic's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
Whimsical sat up slowly.
"You," he said, pointing at Stoic, "want to prepare until reality becomes safe enough to touch. He wants to touch reality until he learns not to fear it."
His gaze shifted toward Shorai.
"One of you treats life like a sealed experiment. The other risks treating himself like the experiment."
Shorai remained silent.
"Stoic is right about one thing," Whimsical continued. "Not every unknown deserves to be tested by throwing your body, mind, or soul into it. We have one vessel. Breaking it for the sake of experience is still breaking it."
Stoic gave a faint nod.
"But Original is right too," Whimsical said before Stoic could speak. "A mind that only knows controlled conditions does not become strong. It becomes well-organized. There is a difference."
His eyes moved between them.
"You cannot calculate every attachment away. You cannot simulate every loss. And you cannot build a Dao Heart by keeping it behind a barrier until the world politely asks permission to hurt it."
The room fell quiet again.
Whimsical gave a small, humorless smile.
"So do the boring thing neither of you enjoys."
"What is that?" Shorai asked.
"Regulated exposure," Whimsical replied. "Not blind surrender. Not permanent isolation. Let the mind meet uncertainty in pieces. Let it fail in places where failure does not destroy the body. Then learn."
He tapped his temple.
"Soul Space is perfect for it. Not because it replaces reality, but because it lets us find the cracks before reality decides to drive a kunai through them."
"And here I thought you had something interesting to share."
Shorai sighed, visibly disappointed.
"This is about my own will. Its strength. Its resilience. That is the core of my belief."
He mimicked Whimsical's temple-tapping gesture.
"Regulated experience is obvious. I can regulate variables. Simulate something specific. Your suggestion is not new."
His expression grew more serious.
"If I had none of my past memories—none of that experience—then perhaps it would be different. My so-called reckless experiences with this body were made under a different understanding. I have already changed that approach with the new plan."
He paused.
"But that is not the same as awareness in the moment a choice stands before me."
Shorai looked directly at Whimsical.
"It is not the same as choosing with full awareness, accepting the consequences, and carrying no regret afterward."
His gaze shifted briefly toward Stoic.
"Do you understand what I am debating him about?"
"Well… he got you there, buddy," the Whimsical Clone said in a bored tone.
Stoic gave him a brief, cold glance.
"This is a matter of perspective, clown."
His attention returned to Shorai.
"That does not change the immediate danger of your approach. You want to step into unstable states simply to test the self. You call it experience. You call it strengthening your heart."
Stoic raised one hand and slowly closed it into a fist.
"I observe. I prepare. I calculate variables. I establish order before chaos can seize the body."
His voice lowered.
"You speak as though you have already mastered the chaos within you."
His eyes sharpened.
"You speak as though reality itself rests beneath your will."
He tapped two fingers lightly against his temple, as if mocking him.
"Do you feel safe? Calm? Relaxed?"
"Is that because you truly understand yourself—or because you have not yet encountered the condition that proves you do not?"
"Your thoughts have not been properly disturbed. Your memories have not been altered, fractured, or forced into contradiction."
Stoic's mouth curved faintly.
"Memory changes with time. Meaning changes with distance. You repeat your conclusions until you mistake repetition for certainty."
"Do you understand now how uncertain your plans truly are?"
Stoic smirked, apparently pleased with himself.
"Share your plans with a god—whatever omnipotent being watches this world. Say them aloud. Let it laugh back at you."
His voice became quieter.
"That is the irony of fate."
Then he pointed toward Shorai's chest.
"But now, you have another problem."
"That was spoken aloud."
His gaze held Shorai's.
"What if an omnipotent being is already listening to your thoughts?"
Stoic's gaze shifted toward the drawing on the wall.
"And now you add anchors. A warm touch. A remembered voice. A gift that makes a room feel like home."
"You treat these things as though they cannot influence your judgment."
Stoic's mouth curved into a cold smile.
"Who is in denial now?"
Shorai's brows rose slightly.
Stoic continued.
"How plainly must I say this? Do you truly believe the artifact answers only to your deliberate choices?"
"If I am the product of that 'parasite' you described, then understand the possibility."
His smile widened.
"You may be carrying another one. Far more dangerous than anything within your own mind."
For a moment, Shorai did not move.
The thought settled heavily in the quiet room.
'They are pieces of a whole being, after all.'
'They may possess intelligence. Instinct. A will that is not entirely mine.'
"There is a possibility," Shorai murmured. "The Stones are fragments of something greater."
His gaze lowered toward his palm.
"That does not make their influence harmless."
"Now you are waking up," Stoic said.
"Or becoming more suspicious," Whimsical replied calmly from the floor.
He lifted his head slightly.
"Keep going and you will become a full-time conspiracy theorist. Then the three of us can start voting on which thought is real."
Stoic ignored him.
"A wise man and a fool are two sides of the same coin. Your thoughts are simply too willing to flip it until it lands on the side you prefer."
His smile receded into a thin smirk.
"You summoned me second, after all."
Whimsical's eyes narrowed in clear displeasure.
Shorai closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, his voice was calm.
"How do I strengthen my mind without facing the experience in the moment?"
Neither clone interrupted.
"My philosophy is not meant to deny influence. It is meant to examine it."
"No matter how subtle the influence—fear, affection, grief, desire, or an artifact's pressure—I intend to recognize it. To weigh it."
"To refuse false dreams and distractions when they pull me away from the larger reality."
He looked toward the Stoic Clone.
"Death no longer terrifies me in the simple way it once did. The uncertainty remains, but it has become curiosity."
His face relaxed slightly.
"Anticipation for whatever comes after the show ends."
"That is why you are my Heart Demon."
Stoic's eyes narrowed.
"Not because you are entirely wrong," Shorai continued. "But because you would turn fear into a cage and call it safety."
The room became still.
"The additional influence you described is uncertain," Shorai said. "Possibly dangerous. I acknowledge that."
"But I could still live if the Reality Stone were torn away from me. That does not change the core of who I am."
His gaze turned toward his palm.
"It is a useful tool. A valuable one. Better in my hands than in someone else's."
"But it is not my identity."
Before Stoic could respond, Shorai added:
"Naruto carries a Mind Stone within him. Yet I do not obsess over tearing it from him merely because I might be capable of doing so without immediately destroying him."
"I am a mirage in this uncertain reality. I have no immediate need to take it."
His voice softened.
"I would rather watch him learn to live with it, understand it, and remain himself despite it."
"So self-assured," Stoic said quietly. "Are you copying that Copy Ninja's habit of stretching every variable?"
His eyes narrowed.
"The same applies to the Soul Stone you know rests at the Uzumaki shrine."
He shook his head.
"This is becoming tedious. Arguing with my lesser self."
A trace of anticipation entered his eyes.
"We will see how you act when the Time Stone joins the collection."
"I am beginning to look forward to that moment."
Stoic raised two fingers and closed his eyes.
"Soul Space. Now."
Shorai exhaled heavily.
The clone's final words lingered in his mind as he returned to the Soul Space.
The moment Shorai's awareness settled fully into the Soul Space, the two clones obeyed his earlier command and released the Shadow Clone Jutsu.
Memories returned in a familiar rush.
Layered impressions, emotional residue, and compressed chains of thought pressed into his mind at once. Heat spread behind his eyes as his brain struggled to sort and integrate them.
Shorai sat upon the black surface of the Soul Space with his eyes closed, fully focused on containment.
He slowed his breathing.
He guided the pressure into order.
He allowed the tension to settle rather than forcing it down.
Time passed.
Eventually, the experience stabilized.
The simulation had given him only a glimpse—a small nudge toward the mental balance he needed to maintain. But it was enough to reveal the beginning of a habit.
With a faint smile, Shorai allowed himself to sleep.
—
A hard, repeated knock woke him.
Shorai opened his eyes slowly.
A strange sensation lingered at the edge of his mind: a quiet awareness of his breath, the room, and the movement of chakra beneath his skin.
'A habit has already begun to form?'
"Coming," he called.
After dressing and checking his seals, he opened the door.
Eagle stood outside, his eyes sharp beneath the ANBU mask.
"You trained."
"I did." Shorai nodded. "Chakra-pathway behavior and mental exercise. Nothing unusual."
Eagle studied his face.
"Do you feel rested?"
"More or less."
Shorai stretched and turned away to suppress a yawn.
"Let us go," Eagle said. "It is past midday. The ceremony begins soon. The announcement spread through the village this morning."
Shorai blinked and looked toward the clock on the table.
One in the afternoon.
They moved across the rooftops in rapid Shunshin bursts and arrived at ANBU headquarters shortly afterward.
Boar and Cat waited inside, their masks held at their sides.
"The old Fox finally woke up?" Tetsuro asked with a small smile before setting the Boar mask over his face.
"Let me guess," Yugao said, studying Shorai with a faint frown. "You trained through the night."
"Meditation and a small exercise. Nothing serious," Shorai replied evenly.
"This is an important day," Yugao said. "Tsunade-sama requested to see us after the declaration."
She placed the Cat mask over her face.
"Go. Gear up quickly."
After checking his equipment and adjusting every strap, pouch, and seal, Shorai returned to the rest area wearing his white-and-blue striped fox mask and a messy brown wig.
"Good," Eagle said. "The Hokage Tower awaits."
—
The streets were crowded by the time they reached the tower.
Villagers filled the roads below and gathered across nearby rooftops. Their whispers carried through the air, threaded with expectation, nervousness, and a hope that felt fragile in the wake of Hiruzen's death.
Shizune led Shorai's team to their assigned position on the Hokage Tower roof.
From there, Shorai could see other ANBU squads stationed across the surrounding rooftops and along the Hokage Monument. His team activated their sensory fields and remained alert as the hour approached.
Then Tsunade stepped onto the roof.
Shizune stood at her side. Koharu and Homura waited several paces behind her, with Ibiki and Shikaku positioned nearby.
Tsunade wore the red Hokage hat, its pale veil stirring in the wind. Her eyes passed over the gathered villagers, paused briefly on Shorai's masked squad, and then settled upon the village below.
"Lady Fifth Hokage," the four ANBU said in sequence.
They knelt briefly.
Tsunade answered with a small nod.
Then she walked to the roof's edge.
With a practiced motion, she removed the hat.
Cheers erupted across Konoha.
Shorai observed in silence.
'They did not choose her directly.'
'Yet after loss, people did not always need a choice. Sometimes, they needed someone they could believe would remain standing after everything else had fallen.'
Tsunade's reputation, her bloodline, the authority of the elders, and the fact that Jiraiya himself had brought her home were enough for the crowd to accept her.
'That was the strength of reputation.'
'It could steady a village.'
'It could also blind one.'
No system escaped human weakness.
A public vote could be manipulated. So could a council, a clan, or a Daimyō. The only real difference was where power gathered—and who ultimately paid for its failures.
Tsunade placed the Hokage hat back upon her head.
When she spoke, chakra strengthened her voice until it carried through every street below.
"Konoha has lost too much."
The crowd gradually fell quiet.
"A title will not bring back the people we lost. Neither will pretending that everything will be fine now that someone new is wearing this hat."
Tsunade's gaze moved across the village.
"I am not my grandfather. I am not the Third."
Her voice was firm.
"I am Tsunade. And I accepted this position because this village needs someone willing to take responsibility for what comes next."
She turned briefly toward the Hokage Monument.
"Hiruzen-sensei gave his life protecting Konoha. Many others did the same."
Her expression hardened.
"We will honor them properly—not with empty words, but by rebuilding what was destroyed and protecting the people who are still here."
Her eyes settled on the children gathered among the crowd.
"Children should not have to carry burdens created by the failures of adults."
"That responsibility belongs to us."
Tsunade lifted one hand toward the village.
"Konoha will recover. We will heal. And while I am Hokage, no one under this village's protection will be abandoned."
"That is my promise."
The cheers that followed reached their height.
For a long moment, the village stood united beneath the sound.
At last, Tsunade raised a hand in farewell and allowed the crowd to gradually return to its daily life.
Then she turned toward the people waiting on the rooftop.
The public smile disappeared from her face.
Shorai watched her approach.
'Who would have thought that Hashirama's granddaughter—the little princess of the Senju legacy—would become a promising kunoichi beneath Hiruzen's guidance?'
'That she would become a medic whose skill reached across the world—only to stand helpless before the deaths of the people she loved?'
'She had grieved. Run. Tried to bury herself beneath distance, gambling, and alcohol.'
'Yet fate had brought her back to the village she had avoided most.'
'Not merely as the Slug Princess.'
'Not merely as one of the Sannin, or as the greatest medical shinobi alive.'
'As Hokage.'
"What are those long faces for?" Tsunade asked, looking over the ANBU, Shizune, the elders, Ibiki, and Shikaku.
One corner of her mouth lifted.
"Are you beginning to doubt my appointment already?"
"We are not," Koharu replied. Her expression remained unreadable. "Fifth."
"It is up to you now to prove that we were right to place this burden on your shoulders," Homura added. "The village will need both your leadership and your medical expertise more than ever, Lady Fifth."
"Good to hear."
Tsunade's face shifted instantly into a cheerful grin.
"Then we will celebrate with a drink."
Shikaku released a slow breath through his nose.
"Lady Fifth," Koharu said sharply, "there is much to resolve and approve. This is not the time."
"There are security reports, reconstruction matters, and post-invasion decisions requiring your authority," Ibiki added evenly.
"Tsunade-sama…" Shizune began uncertainly.
"Keep calling me that, Shizune," Tsunade said, shaking her head. "The hat is only another burden of responsibility. Nothing more."
"Lady Fifth," Homura repeated, "celebrations can wait."
"What would one cup of sake change?" Tsunade asked with a sly smile. "A small—"
"Tsunade-sama!"
Tsunade sighed.
"Hmph. None of you are any fun at all."
She waved one hand dismissively.
"Fine. I will postpone the celebration until tomorrow."
Her gaze shifted to Shorai's ANBU team.
"But right now, I have something else in mind."
She pointed directly at the four masked operatives.
"You four. My office. Now."
"Lady Fifth—" Koharu began.
"This is important to me," Tsunade cut in, her eyes moving briefly toward the elders.
Her expression sharpened.
"And it may be important to the future of this village."