The succession of a Hokage was always troublesome at the start—but once the process truly began, it unfolded with startling speed.
Despite the ceremony being small, every shinobi who could return to the village made the effort to do so. Jiraiya was naturally present. Even Danzō, having just concluded his so-called "special mission," appeared among the elder council, observing from the shadows.
When Hiruzen formally passed the Hokage's hat to Tsunade, and she accepted it before the gathered villagers, Konoha's Fifth Hokage was born.
There was no long-winded inaugural speech.
Tsunade simply acknowledged the thunderous applause and cheers, and as the crowd gradually dispersed, the ceremony came to an end.
Of course, for the newly appointed Hokage, the real work had only just begun. Meetings, reports, negotiations—an endless tide awaited her.
That, however, had nothing to do with Roshi.
After working through the night and holding out until the ceremony concluded at dawn, the exhausted jōnin finally left the Hokage Building.
"Yo!"
A tall, long-haired man clapped a heavy hand on Roshi's shoulder.
"Guess I can call you by name now, huh? Roshi."
Roshi silently acknowledged an uncomfortable truth: whether it was Kakashi in Anbu gear or himself, secrecy was more a myth than a reality.
"Good morning, Jiraiya-sensei."
Jiraiya leaned in, stroking his chin as he studied him. "You look half-dead, kid. That won't do. Young people should be overflowing with energy!"
If Roshi didn't lack a Sharingan, he might've activated it on the spot just to stare him down.
You, a man who chased prophecies, gathered 'inspiration,' and haunted bathhouses, lecturing him about energy?
His knuckles twitched.
"Jiraiya-sensei," Roshi said evenly, "shouldn't you be congratulating the Fifth Hokage? Why seek me out?"
"I've already said what needed saying," Jiraiya waved it off. Then his tone shifted, losing some of its levity. "I heard Orochimaru paid you a visit."
"Yes."
"Be careful," Jiraiya warned quietly. "He's not the type to give up easily."
—
That very persistent Orochimaru was, at that moment, experiencing a rare—and deeply humiliating—retreat.
Of the Root operatives who had accompanied him, only two remained.
Unwilling to expose himself and avoiding Snake Ninjutsu entirely, Orochimaru relied solely on raw skill. Against ordinary jōnin, he needed no techniques at all.
Even Kakashi—an Anbu veteran—had been defeated in two exchanges with nothing more than a kunai.
When Orochimaru launched his ambush, two members of the Uchiha Anbu were killed instantly. A third fell under Root's coordinated assault.
The mission should have ended there.
Then Uchiha Shisui arrived.
And after that—there was no "after."
Orochimaru discovered, to his shock, that despite his formidable resistance to genjutsu, a single glance had frozen him in place.
Shisui didn't know who his opponent truly was.
He didn't need to.
His short blade swept toward Orochimaru's neck without hesitation.
A Root operative threw himself in the way, taking the strike and buying Orochimaru the heartbeat he needed to break free.
Wind Release erupted, forcing Shisui back.
The retreat was immediate and ruthless: one Root member seized a fallen comrade's body, another grabbed a Uchiha corpse, and the survivors vanished into the shadows.
As Orochimaru fled, recalling the crushing dominance of Shisui's gaze, irritation never came.
Instead, his lips curled upward.
That sensation…
So this is the true power of the Sharingan.
One Root operative hesitated as they moved. "Orochimaru-sama… one target remains. Danzō-sama's orders—"
Orochimaru glanced sideways, eyes gleaming. "Danzō wants to provoke the Uchiha. Leaving one alive accomplishes that far better."
"Yes… but the Sharingan," the man pressed. "We only recovered one. Danzō-sama demanded four."
"Hehehe," Orochimaru chuckled softly. "I'll speak to him personally."
"…Understood."
As mercenary ninja who fought purely for money, their retreat was far swifter than that of regular shinobi once the tide of battle clearly turned against them.
They had been hastily assembled, bound by profit rather than trust. There was no coordination, no alternating cover, no discipline in withdrawal.
Konoha did not pursue.
For today, their objective had already been achieved—drive the enemy back. There was no need to risk further losses chasing fleeing mercenaries into unfamiliar terrain.
High atop a distant tree branch, Obito watched the rout in silence. The air around him seemed to sink under an invisible pressure, cold and oppressive.
"Oh dear," White Zetsu chimed lightly. "What a miserable defeat, Obito. Both here… and back in the Hidden Mist."
Obito's single eye flicked toward him, sharp and icy.
"Why did Konoha know the time and location of the operation?"
Black Zetsu answered calmly, "With that many rogue ninja gathered in one place, information leakage was inevitable."
Obito was silent for a moment before asking, "And Orochimaru?"
White Zetsu replied at once, "He fulfilled his role. Three Uchiha were killed. But Shisui forced him to retreat."
Black Zetsu added, "He also took one of the bodies with him."
"So… two remain."
Sharingan were always valuable—especially fully matured Three-Tomoe eyes.
I'll take them when the opportunity presents itself.
As for Orochimaru… since he acted in earnest, perhaps he was worth drawing into the organization.
If the Hidden Mist was lost, then so be it. The so-called Five Great Ninja Villages were proving increasingly cumbersome to manipulate.
The failure here, combined with the earlier incident in Kumogakure, made one truth clear to Obito:
Relying on external forces to shake Konoha had its limits.
In the end, the real opportunities would still have to come from within Konoha itself.
—
Inside a tent at the temporary encampment, Uchiha Enjin sat alone in the shadows.
Before him lay two bodies, shrouded in white cloth.
His gaze was unfocused, his thoughts completely empty.
Although the police force rarely took on external missions, Enjin was no stranger to combat. As an Uchiha who had awakened the Three-Tomoe Sharingan, he had seen his share of battlefields.
Even so… today was different.
Comrades who had stood beside him through countless missions were gone—killed in what should have been a routine operation against rogue ninja.
"Enjin."
The tent flap lifted, and Shisui stepped inside. Grief lingered faintly on his face.
"Kakashi-senpai has already arranged for you to return to the village immediately. You're to rest. Another unit will take over this sector tomorrow."
Enjin didn't respond.
His hands, resting on his knees, clenched unconsciously, fingers digging into fabric.
Shisui watched him in silence, lips pressed thin.
Among Konoha's losses today, the Uchiha Anbu squad had suffered the heaviest blow.
That attacker…
To break free from his genjutsu so quickly—this was no ordinary rogue ninja.
Shisui recalled Roshi's earlier warning.
A foe targeting the Uchiha specifically, wielding such overwhelming strength…
Could it have been… Orochimaru?
The thought lingered heavily in the stillness of the tent.
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