The night fell like a curtain, the moon hanging high and bright, casting silver light across the village.
Upon a secluded rooftop, the cold night breeze tousled a man's long, jet-black hair. His golden, serpentine eyes remained fixed on the distant Hokage Rock, calm and unreadable.
Orochimaru raised the wine cup in his hand toward the radiant moonlight above. The liquid in the cup shimmered—crystal clear. With a quiet breath, he downed it in one smooth motion.
He wasn't one to indulge in alcohol. He disliked the way it dulled his senses, clouded his judgment, distorted his analysis. But tonight, for some inexplicable reason, he felt the urge to drink—a rare moment of indulgence.
"Never thought someone like you would drink alone."
A cold voice echoed from behind him. A figure cloaked in shadows emerged silently, his presence blending with the night as he stared at Orochimaru with a dark expression.
"Well, well, Elder Danzō himself, gracing me with his presence," Orochimaru said mockingly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Still worried about this Konoha rogue ninja? Here to take me back in chains, perhaps?"
Shrouded in bandages, the one-eyed Danzō ignored the jab. He simply walked over and sat down beside Orochimaru, eyeing the extra wine cup beside him. He poured himself a drink and took a small sip, lips barely moving.
"No need for the sarcasm," Danzō muttered. "What are your next plans?"
"With Jiraiya and Tsunade both back in the village, your grand little scheme is all but stillborn."
"And that new disciple of Hiruzen's... clearly not someone to be trifled with. Even you couldn't handle her, could you?"
Danzō swirled the liquid in his cup, his voice laced with sarcasm. Clearly, he hadn't forgotten Orochimaru's earlier mockery and now offered a dose of it in return.
"Today, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and even Sakura were all gathered at Hiruzen's residence. Kakashi was there too. So was your own pupil."
"Yet here you are—alone, drinking in the cold wind."
"Do you regret the path you took?"
Danzō's gaze bored into Orochimaru's face, searching for any cracks, any hints of remorse. But the pale, snake-like man didn't flinch. He only looked up at the moon, the golden light reflecting in his eyes like a mirage.
"Who knows?" Orochimaru said with a faint smile.
"And you, my dear Danzō-sama," he continued, voice dripping with sarcasm, "you were once Hiruzen's peer. And yet, here you are... drinking with a missing-nin, under the same cold wind."
Danzō let out a grunt of annoyance.
"Hmph."
His eye narrowed as he clicked his tongue with mock disgust.
"No pickled radish, no cucumber slices... nothing to go with the drink. I don't know how you can stomach this."
Then, he turned toward the empty air beside him and spoke as if addressing someone invisible.
"Ryōma. Bring us some snacks."
The silence stretched for a moment, then a low, muffled voice responded reluctantly from the shadows.
"Yes, sir."
—
At the Sarutobi Residence
"Cheers!"
The warmth of the room was lit with soft, golden lights. Several hands raised their glasses—though Sakura, Sasuke, Naruto, and Konohamaru were holding orange juice rather than sake.
At the head of the table sat the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. He drained his cup with a satisfied sigh, eyes gleaming with genuine joy as he looked around at the people gathered.
He was getting old. He knew that well. Moments like these—when younger generations, students, comrades, and kin gathered—were precious. He couldn't say how many more times he would see such a scene.
"Eat, drink, enjoy yourselves," Hiruzen said, stroking his short beard with a smile. "Tonight, we're not talking about 'Legendary Sannin' or 'Third Hokage' nonsense."
"Just have fun."
His tone was light, warm. He wanted nothing more than to forget the burdens of leadership for a night.
But Hiruzen needn't have worried. No one at the table was paying him deference tonight.
Tsunade and Jiraiya? They had long since ceased to care about titles.
Asuma was his son. Anko was too brash and carefree to worry about formalities. Kakashi, as always, kept to his detached and lazy demeanor.
Sakura and Naruto were still kids—formality didn't concern them. Sasuke, for all his discipline, rarely showed reverence in personal moments.
Only Shizune sat quietly by Tsunade's side, refilling her teacher's glass with quiet grace.
Jiraiya took a long sip from his own cup, his cheeks already tinged red from the alcohol. His gaze drifted toward Anko, who was fighting with Konohamaru over a drumstick.
A wistful look crossed Jiraiya's eyes, and he muttered under his breath:
"What a waste..."
"A waste?" Tsunade caught it instantly. "Whatever road we choose, no matter the cost, we walk it through to the end—even if we have to crawl."
She looked him dead in the eyes. After decades of friendship and shared battles, she knew exactly what he was thinking.
They had known Orochimaru just as long. They had all once walked side by side.
But Orochimaru had chosen betrayal.
Tsunade, as the granddaughter of the First Hokage, had nothing to say to him anymore.
Kakashi, meanwhile, was quietly nursing his drink, listening to the conversation with increasing discomfort.
He never did well in these kinds of social settings. But with his fellow Leaf ninja all gathered, he couldn't skip it either.
"What's on your mind?"
Asuma nudged him and raised his glass.
Kakashi shrugged. "Just thinking... we'll probably have more of these gatherings in the future."
He quickly pulled down his mask, drained his glass, and put the mask back up in one fluid, practiced motion.
"Haha, of course we will," Asuma laughed.
"These kids will grow up soon. And then it'll be their turn to take students."
He glanced fondly at the trio across the table—Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura.
"Hey, that last fried shrimp is mine!"
The blond boy stabbed his chopsticks toward the plate, only to meet Sasuke's chopsticks head-on.
"I reached first, loser," Sasuke retorted, not backing down an inch.
The two of them were now locked in a duel with their utensils, neither willing to surrender.
"Ugh... Sasuke! Naruto!" Sakura groaned, watching the ridiculous squabble beside her.
She shook her head and went back to her meal. Naruto's cooking really had improved, she admitted to herself.
If he ever opened a diner in Konoha, Ichiraku Ramen might just go out of business.
Just then, Sakura raised her hand and gave Konohamaru a light chop on the head.
"No drinking. You're too young."
The boy had apparently tried to sneak a sip of sake while everyone was distracted.
"Okay, okay, Sakura-neechan..." Konohamaru pouted, rubbing his head.
He knew better than to test Sakura when she got serious. She was more dangerous than any grown-up here.
—
The Next Day
The sun rose bright and gentle, casting golden warmth across the Hidden Leaf Village. It was a rare and beautiful morning.
Izumo Kamizuki and Kotetsu Hagane stood at their usual post by the village gate.
Today, however, they were expecting a very special guest.
"Good morning, may I see your pass?" Kotetsu asked politely, stepping forward.
The man standing before them had short brown hair and wore a pristine white robe that billowed in the breeze. He didn't speak, but the aura of command around him was unmistakable.
Kotetsu's gaze drifted behind the man—to the four shinobi following him, each wearing the forehead protector of Sunagakure.
The man gave Kotetsu a brief glance and waved his hand dismissively.
One of the Suna shinobi stepped forward and handed over a scroll—an official travel permit.
Kotetsu's eyes scanned the contents—and immediately widened in shock.
Fourth Kazekage—Rasa.
Accompanied by three elite guards of the Kazekage's personal escort.
"P-please, welcome to the village," Kotetsu stammered.
"I'll notify the Hokage immediately!"
He gave Izumo a quick look, who nodded and stayed behind, while Kotetsu dashed off toward the Hokage Tower, his pace swift and urgent.
(End of Chapter)
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