Training Ground 98 became a blur of motion.
Clang!
Tonbo's kunai sparked against the blade of his opponent. He moved fast, but the old man moved with the fluidity of water, deflecting every strike with minimal effort.
Shuriken and kunai blocked Hiruzen's path, forcing him to pause for a fraction of a second.
That was all Tonbo needed.
His hands flashed through the seals.
Psycho Mind Transmission: Despair Pulse.
Hiruzen Sarutobi looked up. He met Tonbo's gaze.
And suddenly, the world turned grey.
The will to fight evaporated from Hiruzen's body. The kunai in his hand felt impossibly heavy, a burden he no longer wished to carry.
I am so old, Hiruzen thought, his shoulders slumping. What is the point of living? Why am I fighting a child? I should just die here.
The thought wasn't his, yet it felt absolute. It was a suffocating blanket of nihilism.
Oh god. Did I just kill the Third Hokage?
Tonbo froze. The "Professor," the God of Shinobi, was standing there with a thousand-yard stare, making no attempt to dodge the incoming shuriken.
Panic surged through Tonbo. If he accidentally assassinated the village leader, he was dead. He wasn't a rogue ninja; he was just a guy trying to survive until retirement!
Bang!
The shuriken and kunai struck Hiruzen's chest.
Poof.
White smoke erupted.
"A Shadow Clone?" Tonbo exhaled, his knees nearly buckling with relief.
At the same time, a thrill of vindication shot through him. His theory was correct. The jutsu worked on humans—even elite ninja. The fish had been too primitive to process complex depression, but a human mind? It was fertile ground for despair.
But where is the real body?
Tonbo spun around, pushing his sensory perception to the limit.
Behind a large oak tree, the real Hiruzen Sarutobi was leaning against the bark, staring blankly at the white clouds drifting across the azure sky.
He wasn't hiding. He was wallowing.
"Sigh... why am I even the Hokage?" he muttered to himself. "I should have just stayed home and raised my sons."
"I could be bouncing my grandson on my knee right now. I could name the Fourth Hokage and retire to a quiet life of calligraphy. Wouldn't that be better?"
"I don't want to move. I don't want to do anything."
"I'm old. I should just lie here until the moss covers me. Nobody would care anyway."
"Maybe I should just give up..."
Suddenly, a spark of alarm cut through the fog. Hiruzen's discipline kicked in.
Ram.
"Release!"
His chakra flared, shattering the Genjutsu. The grey filter lifted from his vision, and the crushing weight on his soul vanished.
Hiruzen panted, sweat beading on his forehead.
"A terrifying jutsu," he whispered, his heart racing. "It uses Genjutsu to transmit a pure, concentrated signal of negative emotion."
"And once that signal is received... even a Shadow Clone transmits the feedback. Even after dispelling it, the emotional residue lingers."
He felt a genuine lingering fear. He was a veteran of three wars, a man who had stared down death a thousand times. But that feeling of absolute, chemical hopelessness? It was a weapon more dangerous than a fireball.
"Not bad. Not bad at all," Hiruzen said, stepping out from behind the tree.
Tonbo looked at him, wary.
"However," Hiruzen continued, his voice stern, "This technique is too potent. You must never use this on a comrade during training. Do you understand?"
"Eh? Is it really that strong?" Tonbo asked, scratching his head.
To him, it was just a tactical tool. A visual and tactile illusion designed to create an opening. A breaker of equilibrium.
"It targets the spirit," Hiruzen said gravely. "And for a shinobi, the spirit is the source of power."
Before he could lecture further, an ANBU agent flickered into existence beside them, kneeling. He wore a porcelain cat mask.
"Lord Hokage. Urgent intelligence from Lord Orochimaru on the northern front."
Hiruzen's demeanor shifted instantly. The depressed old man vanished, replaced by the Commander-in-Chief. He nodded to the ANBU, then turned to Tonbo.
"I must return to work. Keep training, Tonbo. You have a unique gift."
Swish!
They were gone.
Tonbo stood alone in the clearing, grinning.
"It works," he murmured. "It targets the physiological symptoms of depression."
He recalled the memories of a Medic-nin he had interrogated. Depression wasn't just sadness; it was a physical state where the brain stopped producing the chemicals needed for motivation. Mental depression could be fought with willpower. Physiological depression was a body failing to respond to the mind.
"I need to refine it. If I can bypass the mind and shut down the nerves directly..."
"But for now, back to Taijutsu. In a drawn-out fight, chakra runs out. Fists don't."
He remembered the anime. By the Fourth War, if you couldn't throw a punch like Guy, you were dead weight.
Hokage's Office.
Hiruzen sat behind his desk, flanked by his advisors, Mitokado Homura and Utatane Koharu. The atmosphere was heavy.
"Report," Hiruzen commanded.
"According to Orochimaru," Homura read from a scroll, "The Third Raikage, A, has fallen. He died fighting ten thousand Iwa shinobi alone for three days and three nights to cover his army's retreat."
Hiruzen paused, a flicker of respect crossing his face. "A monster to the end. But his death changes the board."
"It means the end of the war is in sight," Koharu noted.
"Agreed," Hiruzen said. "Transmit my orders: Deploy Minato Namikaze's squad to support Orochimaru. With the Raikage gone, Kumo will be disorganized. We must secure a decisive victory against the Cloud immediately."
"Understood."
As the ANBU dispersed to carry the orders, Hiruzen leaned back in his chair. He spoke to the empty corner of the room.
"Bring me Tonbo Tobitake's file."
He knew every ninja in the village, but he wanted to see the details.
Minutes later, an ANBU placed a folder on his desk.
Name: Tonbo Tobitake
Rank: Chunin
Type: Sensor / Intel
Specialty: Psycho Mind Transmission, Genjutsu, Trap-making.
Family: Son of Tosei Tobitake (Retired).
Dream: World Peace. To inherit the Will of Fire.
Hiruzen smiled as he read the last line.
"A bright future. A child who truly carries the fire."
Walking down the bustling main street of Konoha, Tonbo Tobitake was oblivious to the fact that the Hokage was currently reading his personnel file.
He was licking a popsicle, observing the civilians.
He thought about his encounter with Hiruzen. The Hokage's personal guidance wasn't an accident; it was an investment.
Whatever, Tonbo thought. I don't care about politics. I just want a stable job.
His dream wasn't "World Peace."
His dream was: Find a gentle, beautiful, and preferably rich wife. Have two sons, two daughters. Watch them grow up. Retire.
But to achieve that, he had to survive.
Hiruzen got within breathing distance of me and I didn't sense him, Tonbo reminded himself grimly. That's the gap between a Chunin and a Kage. If he had been an enemy assassin, I'd be a corpse right now.
He needed to upgrade his sensory net.
"Eh? Ichiraku Ramen?"
Tonbo stopped. The familiar flaps of the ramen stand fluttered in the breeze.
He checked his frog wallet. It was fat with mission pay.
Why not? he thought. I'm a worker. I work to eat good food.
That was his nindo. Not saving the world. Just eating well.
"Welcome!"
A hearty voice greeted him as he pushed through the curtains.
Tonbo looked up. Behind the counter stood a man who looked exactly like his father's age—Teuchi. His eyes were permanently squinted in a cheerful smile as he drained a basket of noodles.
Standing next to him, wiping the counter, was a young girl about Tonbo's age.
Ayame.
She was beautiful.
Tonbo's eyes lit up. Now this is what I'm fighting for.
"Hello! What can I get you?" Ayame asked, her smile bright enough to rival the sun. "I recommend the Seafood Ramen. It's a new recipe!"