Chapter 88: The Weight of a Title
Orochimaru's analysis cut through Kagenori's assumptions with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel. The cold, political reality of the situation settled over him, far heavier than any pack on his back. Finding a spare Uzumaki was merely the first, simplest step. The true battle would be fought not on the fields of Grass, but in the shadowy corridors of Konoha's power structures.
Why would the village ever choose an unknown, untrained refugee over Uzumaki Kushina, a kunoichi they had raised, indoctrinated, and who was, by all accounts, perfectly suited for the role? The question echoed in his mind, exposing the naivety of his original plan. It wasn't enough to just provide an option; he had to make himself, and his option, the most politically palatable choice.
Kagenori gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I understand, Orochimaru-sensei. I will lead a Genin team."
A faint, approving smile touched Orochimaru's lips. "I anticipated your agreement once the variables were made clear. I have already communicated with Sarutobi-sensei. You will not be burdened with a full team of three. You are to take on a single Genin… as your personal disciple."
"Disciple…" Kagenori murmured the word, testing its weight. A disciple was different. A disciple implied a deeper investment, a transfer of personal skill and knowledge. It was a commitment far beyond babysitting on a mission.
Yet, Orochimaru was right. A single disciple was manageable. The arsenal of ninjutsu he had learned from Orochimaru—Earth, Water, and Lightning Release—provided more than enough foundation to teach, without ever needing to reveal the techniques that truly defined his power.
"I understand," Kagenori repeated, his voice firm. "I will select a Genin to be my apprentice."
"Good," Orochimaru hissed. "Three Genin would be a chain. A single disciple can be a tool. Choose wisely. When do you depart?"
"Immediately. I will set out for Konoha now."
"Very well. This is a summary of the current strategic disposition in the Land of Hot Springs. Deliver it to Lord Sarutobi for me." Orochimaru produced a sealed scroll and tossed it to Kagenori, who caught it without a word.
"I will see it delivered. Then, Orochimaru-sensei, I take my leave."
"Go."
Kagenori returned to his sparse quarters, shouldered his pre-packed travel pack, and left the camp without a backward glance. He had not traveled far when a familiar, unwelcome chakra signature flickered at the edge of his perception.
"Kagenori."
He turned, his expression flattening as he confirmed the identity of the blond-haired figure. Minato Namikaze. Of course.
In the blink of an eye, Minato was at his side, a sunny, infuriatingly genuine smile on his face.
Kagenori's lip curled. "You're like a persistent ghost. Don't tell me you're here to see me off."
"Not at all," Minato replied, his tone light. "As I mentioned before, my orders have me returning to Konoha as well. Since you're heading back today, I thought we could travel together. The road is always better with a companion."
Kagenori let out a derisive "Tch." He looked Minato up and down. "Namikaze, let me ask you a question. Are you a delicate flower? Do you really need a companion for a journey back to Konoha?"
Minato's smile faltered, replaced by a look of pure exasperation. "Is it so impossible for you to say a single kind word?"
Kagenori didn't dignify that with a response. He simply turned and continued walking, setting a punishing pace. Minato, unsurprised, fell into step beside him, and the rest of the day passed in a heavy, unbroken silence.
Four days later, the familiar forests of Konoha were within a day's reach. Driven by a singular desire to see Kushina, Kagenori decided to push through the night and arrive by noon the next day.
As he prepared to set off under the moonlight, Minato's voice broke the quiet. "Kagenori… if I had chosen to help Kushina back then, that day at the academy… would we have become comrades?"
Kagenori stopped, turning to look at Minato, his face unreadable in the dim light.
Minato's eyes were earnest. "It seems that incident is the root of the conflict between us. I didn't understand how important she was to you. I… I regretted it afterward. If I had stopped them from bullying her, perhaps things would be different between us now."
Kagenori stared at him, his expression utterly calm for a moment before a cold, mocking sneer twisted his features. "No, Namikaze. Even if that had never happened, we would not be friends. We are fundamentally different kinds of people. And frankly, I'm glad you didn't help her."
Minato frowned, confusion etching his features. "Why? Lord Jiraiya and Orochimaru are polar opposites, yet they are comrades who trust each other with their lives. Why can't we be?"
Kagenori shook his head, a gesture of finality. "You are impossibly naive. The difference between us is not like the difference between Jiraiya and Orochimaru. The fundamental difference is that I despise you. I hate everything you represent."
"But why?" Minato pressed, genuine bewilderment in his voice. "Hatred has to have a reason. What is it?"
"What good would telling you do?" Kagenori countered, his voice dropping to a low, cold register. "So, stop trying to force what cannot be. We merely exist in the same village. That is all."
Without another word, he adjusted his pack and vanished into the night-shrouded path, leaving Minato standing alone in the clearing.
Minato stood there for a long time, watching the space where Kagenori had disappeared, the words echoing in his mind. He finally let out a long, weary sigh.
"Jiraiya-sensei," he whispered to the empty air. "It seems I truly cannot find a path to friendship with him."
...
Thanks to his all-night trek, Kagenori arrived at the gates of Konoha just before noon the next day. The urge to find Kushina immediately was a physical pull, but discipline won out. He went directly to the Hokage Tower, Orochimaru's scroll secured in his pack, ready to receive his official orders for the Land of Grass.
He reached the office door and knocked.
"Enter," came Sarutobi Hiruzen's voice.
Kagenori opened the door and stepped inside, stopping short as he registered the room's other occupant. Beside the Hokage stood a man of a similar age, with neatly-trimmed brown hair, sharp, cunning eyes, and a distinctive fork-shaped scar on his chin. His face was a mask of severe wrinkles and a deeply ingrained grimness that spoke of a life spent in the shadows. Though he had never formally met him, Kagenori recognized the man instantly.
Shimura Danzo. The Hokage's advisor, and the leader of Root.
Kagenori offered a respectful bow. "Hokage-sama. Lord Danzo."
Sarutobi Hiruzen's stern expression softened into a warm, avuncular smile at the sight of him. "Kagenori! It's been too long. You've grown. I have been following your progress. Your service on the Hot Springs front has been exemplary; you've completed several missions of critical importance."
Kagenori fell into the familiar pattern of expected humility. "I owe my growth to the teachings of Orochimaru-sensei and the trust you have placed in me, Hokage-sama. I am merely striving to be a shinobi Konoha can rely on."
Sarutobi's smile widened, a genuine look of pride in his eyes. He saw in Kagenori a redemption story, a testament to the Will of Fire's power to heal even the most broken of souls. Here was the once-despised "Stray," now a decorated Jonin, standing respectfully before him.
Despite the grim war looming on the horizon, seeing this new generation—Kagenori, Minato, the young Ino-Shika-Cho trio—flourish filled the Third Hokage with a resilient hope. These young saplings were Konoha's future, its shield against the coming storm.