"...Naruto, do you hate the Third Hokage?"
Jiraiya's question came out of nowhere.
Naruto didn't answer at first. His eyes lowered slightly.
Hate?
Or not?
Finally, he smiled faintly and said, "No. I don't hate him."
Jiraiya frowned. "If you don't hate him, then why are you standing by while this happens? Why are you letting the Third face Orochimaru alone?"
Naruto's tone was calm. "I'm just thinking of Konoha. The Third Hokage is old—it's time he stepped down and let someone younger lead."
"Bullshit!" Jiraiya snapped, eyes blazing. "You're using Orochimaru as your weapon! You're killing him with someone else's knife. If that's the kind of person you are, I'll never support you becoming Hokage!"
Jiraiya's voice trembled. His relationship with the Third Hokage was complicated—decades of mentorship and shared battles. For all his flaws, Hiruzen Sarutobi had been his teacher, his guiding hand since childhood.
He wanted desperately to save the man, to pull him from whatever trap was being set.
But Naruto didn't flinch. His gaze was cold and razor-sharp.
"Tell me, Jiraiya," Naruto said quietly. "Do you know how Konoha's White Fang died?"
Jiraiya's eyes widened.
Naruto continued, his voice steady but cutting.
"The Nine-Tails Rebellion—when the Uchiha Clan was forbidden to intervene. The Fourth Hokage and his wife died because of that order. Do you know about that?"
Jiraiya froze.
"The Hyuga Incident," Naruto pressed on. "Cloud shinobi trespassed into Konoha, tried to kidnap a child, and when they were caught, we—the Leaf—were the ones forced to apologize. The Hyuga Clan had to hand over their head as a scapegoat, bowing to save a false peace. You know that too, don't you?"
Every word hit like a hammer.
Jiraiya stood there, silent, his throat tight. He knew bits of it—but not the full truth. The whispers he'd heard outside Konoha had always been vague, veiled by propaganda. Hearing it laid out so plainly shook him.
Even Tsunade was stunned. She hadn't known all the details either, but now, hearing Naruto say it, it all made terrible sense.
"The Third Hokage," Naruto said softly, "is no longer fit to lead Konoha."
Jiraiya's temper flared again. "But the village has thrived under him! The Chūnin Exam proved that! The next generation's strong—doesn't that show he's done well?"
Naruto's lips curved slightly. "You've been away too long, Jiraiya-sama. You have no idea what's really been happening inside the village."
He folded his arms and continued in a measured tone.
"During the Hyuga affair, the Third lost his authority. After the Red Sun Society's 'Kira' appeared, he stopped giving real orders. Four years later, when the Uchiha Massacre happened and Kira showed up again, the Third was forced to bow. He branded Danzo a traitor and exiled him."
"Since then, his voice hasn't mattered. And guess what? Without Danzo pulling strings behind the scenes, Konoha's been flourishing. The economy's better. The shinobi corps is stable. The people are happier."
Naruto's smile turned faintly mocking. "Isn't it funny? The best Hokage is the one who does nothing."
Jiraiya had no response.
Tsunade's expression was complicated, but beneath her silence, a flicker of satisfaction glimmered in her eyes. Maybe… maybe the old man did deserve it.
"But still," Jiraiya murmured after a long pause, "he doesn't deserve to die. He gave everything to this village."
Naruto shrugged. "I never said he should die. If he's strong enough to kill Orochimaru, then perfect—it'll all end beautifully. If not, well… you and Tsunade can step in. The three of you, master and disciples together—no one's stopping you."
His tone was matter-of-fact, detached. It wasn't malice. It was calculation.
He didn't want Hiruzen's blood. He wanted his throne.
Whether the old man died as a hero or retired in disgrace made no difference to Naruto—so long as he stepped down.
Jiraiya's jaw tightened. He could stop Orochimaru if he tried. That much he knew.
Tsunade, meanwhile, bit her lip, eyes distant. She wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore—did she wish for the old man's survival… or his downfall? Maybe both.
Shizune stood frozen, wide-eyed.
The way they spoke—discussing the life and death of a Hokage like it was nothing—it was unreal. To her, it was like watching gods decide the fate of mortals.
Her gaze drifted to Naruto. The young man radiated quiet control. The village—its leaders, its politics, its future—everything seemed to revolve around him. Even the Hokage's fate was now in his hands.
Naruto's voice broke the silence.
"After the Third steps down, the two old advisers should retire too. Tsunade-sama, Jiraiya-sama—you'll take their place as senior elders. Agreed?"
Both of them looked at him, speechless. His certainty was absolute, his tone brooked no doubt. He spoke like a man not proposing a plan—but declaring the future.
Jiraiya swallowed hard. "Naruto… are you sure you don't hate the Third?"
He couldn't shake it—the way Naruto moved, spoke, and schemed—it all felt like someone trying to erase the Third Hokage's entire legacy.
Naruto smiled faintly again. But this time, his voice was softer—colder.
"When I was three," he said, "I went to buy food and wasn't allowed inside the store. People threw garbage and stones at me. They called me a curse, a plague. That day, I learned something."
Jiraiya's voice was barely a whisper. "What's that?"
"Hate," Naruto said, "is useless. It changes nothing. The only way to win is to rise above it—to become so strong the world has no choice but to turn around and follow you."
His eyes were calm, steady.
"I know who I am. The son of the Fourth Hokage, the child of Uzumaki Kushina. I know my parents were heroes—dead because of Konoha's failure. And yet, what did I inherit? Nothing. Not even their home. I was given a few coins of pity every month, just enough to keep me from starving."
He exhaled slowly.
"So I grew up. I graduated early—seven years old. Became a Genin. Survived on my own."
Then he looked up at Jiraiya and Tsunade, his voice unwavering.
"I don't hate the Third Hokage. In fact, I'm grateful. He kept me alive. He gave me the chance to train. To rise. To become a Genin, a Chūnin, a Jōnin—and soon, Hokage."
His words hit like thunder.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Jiraiya's throat tightened. Tsunade's eyes softened. Even Shizune felt her chest ache.
Naruto truly didn't hate Hiruzen. In his own way, this was gratitude—cold, practical gratitude.
He wanted the Third to retire with honor. That was his "repayment."
How could he not repay such "kindness"?
Jiraiya turned away, shame burning in his chest. He had known Naruto's lineage for years and done nothing—left him to grow up alone while assuming the old man would take care of him.
Now, hearing the truth in Naruto's calm words, he understood. The boy's indifference wasn't cruelty. It was restraint.
Naruto's choice to not hate—to act instead of wallow—was the greatest mercy he could give.
Jiraiya exhaled heavily and muttered under his breath, voice thick with guilt.
"...Old man. You really did lose your way."
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