Waking to the alarm's ring, I struggled to lift my torso into a sitting position. My head was too heavy, and sand seemed packed in my eyes. Without turning off the alarm, I rubbed them for ten seconds and even slapped my cheeks hard to fully wake.
Reaching for the hated ringing mechanism, I checked the time.
7 a.m.
Shut off already...
Opening the window, I let in unusually fresh air. The sky was overcast, underscoring the tragedy of the day.
Today, Konoha bid farewell to those who died in the Chunin selection exam battle. I don't know how it'd go down in history, but that's what I called it. Yawning, I got up, threw off the light blanket, and headed for the shower. As usual, cold water in the morning. I rarely use hot—once every couple days when I really need to wash properly. Otherwise, cold shower suffices. Plus, hot water needs preheating, guzzling tons of electricity—good thing I live in a house where everyone has their own water heater, small ones like mine, just 50 liters.
Most houses in Konoha had technical floors like boiler rooms where water arrived and was heated in massive gas heaters in huge volumes. Hundreds of liters per building. Then hot water was available to residents via plumbing. Like at Sakura's. Had to coordinate with neighbors—nobody'd fire up the boiler for one person. Hence traditions like "Clean Thursday," but that's still pretty good. In two districts—the center and between Akimichi and Nara clan quarters where few residential houses were (well, relatively... almost none besides the clans')—residents lacked even that. Just water towers and pipes. Shower exists, praise be... So baths were hugely popular. Some skipped even my kind of boilers. I could prepay utilities—pricey as hell! Laundries too... Some lacked time or schedule to wash in hot water. When heated, priority's your own body. So handy to drop clothes at laundry for a modest fee—they wash it, and with client volume, it covered water heating and labor easily.
So I was set up well—luxuriously by local standards.
Shikamaru had just a summer shower, living in a house not apartment, properly bathing only at baths once or twice weekly. Choji same...
After washing, I took the last banana. Had to be at our trio's meet by nine. For some reason, food barely went down. As Wanderer on the frontlines, I'd seen Leaf shinobi die. Now I dreaded seeing their faces in farewell photos. One guy's head got chopped off before my eyes, a young one shredded by explosions. I didn't know several wounded I helped evac—maybe they didn't make it... Damn, I don't even know their names, yet we live in one village and now they're my COMRADES IN ARMS. Heh... Never thought I'd be a 13-year-old war vet in my next life.
Three days since that battle.
Only yesterday they released kids and women from shelters once repeat attack was off the table. All three days, every trained shinobi was balls-deep in duty. Nobody objected. War, after all...
Extra forces to the border—serious clashes there too, and Konoha squads, unlike feudal troops, arrived fast. ANBU squads prepped local contingent pre-D-Day. Some ANBU officers stayed as inspectors on sections and were there that day. Largely thanks to them and rapid hot-spot response, enemy couldn't breach with small forces as planned. Reinforcements crushed attacks, even pushing border forces to nearest Wind Country settlements. We got word by noon next day. Here, maximum chaos...
As mentioned, all hands on deck. Even I, recovering overnight, patrolled battle area around village where we fought Gaara. Despite rook genin usually not patrolling. We also guarded shelters with evac squad, then ran messages to border and back with Kakashi. Feudal first wave ready only next morning... By then we had pensioners eagerly patrolling clan quarters, gates, walls, intersections; civilians clearing rubble/streets while mains on critical spots. Meanwhile, Konoha formed two elite shinobi strike groups of a hundred each to pursue splitting Sand/Sound forces between nearby settlements. Temari probably linked up with hers there.
Village rout, border repulse, Jinchuriki strike prevention...
Now their still-numerous strike group was chased across Fire Country with wet rags.
Such was war's start for Sand Village and great Wind Country. No need to say how their Lord-Daimyo freaked learning his country'd been at war two days with superior numbers/resources state—without any troop prep(!)
Rumors said our Daimyo freaked too but reacted adequately. Unsure if tale, but border post we reached with Kakashi said Fire Daimyo's personal envoy crossed with letter for Wind Daimyo, hand-delivered. One phrase in our Daimyo's hand...
"Do you really want war?!"
Third day, Wind requested talks, even considering capitulation to Fire/Leaf. Intel prompted shelter releases, easing alert. Wind reps swiftly found their battered forces in our lands, releasing our POWs delivered to Konoha as proof. Asked same of us—but asked, not demanded.
Conflict fizzled. But main news wasn't quick win/joy like POW returns, wounded healing, shelter empties over stocking...
Main news: Konoha's sad, significant loss.
Official: "Per medics, yesterday at precisely 16:12, our great protector/patron... Wisest elder, strongest warrior, one of Konoha's greatest sons, Hiruzen of Sarutobi Clan, Third of title, Lord-Hokage fell in battle."
I expected it, but hearing from messenger at HQ while filing report hit like an oar to head.
Despite my view of him as character/policy... I recalled academy/orphanage encounters. His smiles to Ken and me... Lectures... Even our arguments now seemed trivial. That kind grandpa he partly became for me here—gone. Died horribly, entering final battle with hope for future gens on lips, taking postmortem curse to fix past mistakes.
No lump in throat, but real sadness—I sat on nearest bench with Sakura/Sasuke. We just sat silent minutes, not looking at each other.
No need to say for other villagers...
Many wept openly on Third's death news. We had to announce in village outskirts. And border...
Recalling, I tossed half banana in trash, dumped half green tea cup in sink.
No appetite at all...
Grabbed funeral kimono from closet, dressed, decided early exit for unhurried village walk.
Traditionally not mandatory—many in plain black clothes. Mine hung since grifting old man 100k Ryo...
Heh... Dumb convo then. Now knew it wasn't even his monthly pay—he faked surprise well. You conned me good, old timer...
Passing central avenue where gawkers gathered with mournful faces, I stopped smiling at my thoughts.
Construction gear at outskirts, but no work—likely none all week of mourning.
All entertainment closed. Like Uchiha Clan then. Half hour to meet, so detour via market square. Few there, but newsstands, at least one...
Yup, paid last 10 Ryo from dwindling cash for today's final edition—printed 1 a.m., on sale 8 a.m... Cool that sole local media ran unchanged despite mourning.
Front page: Third's death with mournful portrait. Obituary... Elders' comment—boring. Emergency lift in Konoha/vicinity. From today, Daimyo's order halts combat, starts talks. Border guards/Daimyo troops still ready. We send three revered elders led by Danzo... Holy shit! Didn't think that guy emerges from dungeons—he heads delegation. Gave paper comment. Standard... Horrible tragedy, won't forget betrayal, demand fair Sand/Wind Daimyo comp, but anti-Sound Hidden Village terrorists alliance priority. No Orochimaru word—even HQ/reports silent on him. Probably bailed canon-style with Death God-cursed paralyzed arms.
Then resident tips, fire priests/other faiths appeals—crap...
Key: Sans Elders Council, Konoha led by Clan Council/Jonin Council reps. Shikamaru's dad unanimously first, Kakashi second.
That explains his "don't wait, go to funeral yourselves" this morning.
Past market, alley to residential. Fenced private homes mixed with 3-story apartments. Sakura's house. She ground floor, no window bars.
Meet here. Sasuke long left Uchiha quarter—closed visits half year, then razed. Village generously comped Sasuke land loss. Uchiha holdings outside Konoha to Feudal Lord. Survivor servants' kin (absent that day) offered good deals... Konoha relocate/Sarutobi Clan hire or full Fire Country citizenship. No land, but generous cash.
Seeing me in window, Sakura hurried out.
"Hi."
"Hi."
No gestures, smiles, bows. Not during mourning.
We just stood waiting for Sasuke. He arrived all black too, me in traditional kimono. Sakura in female short-skirt version.
"Let's go..." he said sans greeting.
We joined black-clad sad-faced procession. Approaching Hokage building for main farewell ceremony, flowers issued for portraits. Near building, saw Iruka/other teachers lining youngest—academy students—first. Then Guy our age group, led in after ten minutes to roof with space for another group. Adults after. Roof: no civilians. Shinobi only.
Everyone felt like shit.
Many cried... At entrance, one woman carried to hospital. Likely widow of battle dead.
Next to me stood a formation of academy students, and Konohamaru was the worst off. The usually cheerful and energetic boy was already pale and sobbing, barely holding back the whole time I saw him—and probably even before that. Iruka was doing his best to calm him down, but it wasn't working very well. He burst into tears again after the Elders' speech about the Third's greatness and his sacrifice. They also didn't forget to mention that we had gathered not only to honor his memory, but also the memory of those brave souls who gave their lives for the common good and common victory. They read out the full name and rank of every shinobi who died in that battle or while defending the border, since there were casualties there too. Their framed photographs, in smaller sizes, were placed on special bookshelves on both sides of the large photo of the Third. I'm not entirely sure, of course, but it seemed like they had placed all of them.
A total of 169 shinobi had died, which left me stunned once again. That was way too many... Though, against the backdrop of Konoha's overall forces involved, we had essentially gotten off lightly, but still—169 lives was serious. There were even more wounded, but disability threatened only a small portion. Nine out of ten wounded, according to rumors, would be able to hold a weapon again, though the hospital was currently overloaded beyond capacity, and with the civilian casualties too, they even had to use extra rooms, including parts of basements, doctors' offices, and so on... The Yamanaka even allocated a floor of a hotel for some of the less severe patients.
After the speech, it was time to lay the flowers. It started with the youngest, then our group of middle age, and then all the adults.
"Goodbye forever, Third Hokage." Those were my farewell words as I laid the flowers.
All young shinobi were given the day off.
We met Kakashi already on the way out from the Kage building grounds. He apologized for being late and told us the further schedule.
Today and tomorrow we're resting, and starting the day after, we go on duty, since there's more than enough work. We start with a 24-hour shift at the hospital, and then we'll see. It was good that all shinobi on duty and assignments were now getting free three meals a day.
Two men entered the dark room, one of whom was clearly in poor condition. The light from several candles used to illuminate the fairly spacious room—which was clearly insufficient—glinted off the round glasses of one of them, who was almost carrying the second man's body, with his arm slung over his neck.
Approaching a wooden armchair with soft upholstery, he carefully seated the long-haired man, securing his hands on the armrests. All this time, the latter had his eyes squeezed shut as if in severe pain. His entire body, except for the carefully bandaged hands, was trembling, and his face was profusely sweating. His breathing was heavy and rapid.
"Be you cursed, cursed... Cursed..." he whispered, breathing heavily.
The first just snorted and headed to the far end of the room to light a few more candles. Special holders for lanterns were mounted on the stone walls, but there were no lanterns themselves. Instead, the gray-haired man was now carefully lighting several thick white candles one by one, placing them on the table, on the chest of drawers at the opposite end of the room, and on the wall holders.
The light in the room noticeably increased, and now their faces could be seen in detail. The first was still quite young, even boyish; he looked no more than fifteen if not for his overly developed body. He was quite muscular for his age, and the gray hair complemented his appearance, adding extra years to his very youthful face.
The second was a man of indeterminate age. The kind you can't pin down—either thirty or more... Maybe even forty, but there were no signs of aging.
His long hair was wet with sweat and hung messily over his forehead, covering his amber eyes with vertical pupils.
The candles on the long chest of drawers illuminated flasks of various sizes. Several dome-shaped ones were empty; there were a few round-bottomed flasks with unknown liquids, a bag of blood, and several flask-containers holding what looked like petrified or wooden internal organs. One contained something like a heart, and two others presumably held kidneys, submerged in some liquid but no longer resembling meat—they looked more like stone.
On the table was also some chemical equipment, paper with notes, and a large glass flask-container with a human left hand, on whose pinky finger was a ring.
"Khm..." came from the man in the chair, and he hissed, drawing in air. The excruciating pain wouldn't let go.
"Hm... Is that so?" the gray-haired one replied, as if to his suffering. "Looks like I'll have to prepare something stronger, but keep in mind it will affect your strength accordingly. If you can even speak under those drugs, you'll be lucky."
"Do it..." the man in the chair replied, barely holding back a scream. "Monster!" he said louder while the gray-haired one was busy tidying the table and chest of drawers. "Damn old man!"
"Well... What did you expect? You thought it'd be easy? Not only did he hold the title of one of the five Kage, he's known as one of the strongest people in the world. The Professor who mastered all known Leaf techniques. But you're alive, and he's dead. You handled him, and now two of the five Kage are gone. You didn't think you'd pull that off without consequences, did you?"
"Shut up!"
"You did excellently, and you should be proud. No one else could pull it off..."
"I said SHUT UP, MONSTER!" the man in the chair shouted unrestrainedly, causing the gray-haired one to hastily drop to one knee.
"Forgive me, Orochimaru-sama. I overstepped..."
"I don't need your praise or pity! If you dare address me with 'you' again... I'll kill you!" The gray-haired one nodded. "And now, what good is all my power?! Kh-kh..." Orochimaru squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed, and coughed. "Good thing my reincarnation technique doesn't depend on... Kh-kh-kh..." He spat blood to the side and exhaled noisily.
"No need to rush. We could try finding another way to lift the old man's curse. I've already got a few ideas."
"Kabuto... Don't be so naive. The old man wasn't one for bragging, and he probably told the truth about that damn technique's power. Who'd have thought I'd experience part of HIS power on myself after all these years, after HE died! Fourth Hokage... Third Hokage... Be you cursed!"
"With your permission, I'll go..."
"Kabuto!" Orochimaru called after him. "If your ideas don't work, I need Sasuke! Get him for me at any cost or die—I don't care!"
"Not the best idea, lord! Sasuke's under watch right now, and there's another Sharingan user stronger than him, easier to reach."
"Easier? Maybe, but it's too late now! Itachi is stronger than me! The First and Second might've tried to take him, but that damn old man stripped me of summoning them and dragged them into the Shinigami's stomach with him! Curse him! Even at full strength, I'm not sure we'd have captured him..."
"He's that strong?"
"His genjutsu is that powerful... I lost this hand exactly like that. That's why I left that organization..." Orochimaru added, staring at the hand in the flask.
Two men in straw hats adorned with numerous bells stood on the wall not far from the destroyed section, looking down from its height at the aftermath of the battle.
The repair area was quite crowded now. Piles of civilian builders, photographers, newspaper folks, gawkers, volunteers... There were shinobi here for security, but they mostly patrolled around the section. The wall entrances for the builders' convenience were wide open. Even if someone spotted the two in black cloaks with blood-red cloud patterns and those hats worn by many travelers, they wouldn't raise an alarm. The two knew this and stood calmly. One was nearly two meters tall. By this world's standards, he was a real giant. Broad-shouldered and massive, with a strange thing on his back.
Something like a sword hilt with a small porcelain skull at the end attached to a tightly bandaged, sack-like extension. You might think it was just a bag or suitcase, oddly shaped. Very few would suspect it was a weapon—you'd have to be a outright paranoid.
His hands were an unusual color, as were the visible parts of his face from under the hat's shadow. Grayish-blue skin and small round eyes. The rest of his face was hard to make out even up close while he wore the hat. On the ring finger of his left hand was a ring that his long cloak sleeves couldn't hide.
The second, standing beside him, was noticeably shorter—almost a head and a half—and not as broad-shouldered. This black-haired youth could pass for a local if not for his painted nails, uncommon for local men. He was also quite sturdy. The nails were the only parts of his hands peeking from the long, wide sleeves. The cloak seemed a bit too big; he could've worn a smaller one, but either he chose it or didn't care.
Both had high cloak collars reaching their noses. The rising wind made the collars dip slightly, and the cloaks billow partly.
"Nice to be in warm lands with such nature, huh?" the giant said, glancing at his companion. The latter silently kept watching the village outskirts. "Fine, suit yourself, I'll enjoy it..." The giant surveyed the destroyed and half-destroyed buildings too.
"Sad to see such devastation in such a prominent spot... Though this village earned its rep as the strongest. It held, even if at a heavy price." His partner remained silent. "Not even a little sad?" he asked directly, turning to him again. "Or homesick for your home village?"
"Not at all. Not anymore. Just trying to figure out what happened and assess it in detail." His partner finally replied.
"Yeah? Seemed like you were upset..."
"You imagined it..."
"Fine."
"Let's go, I've seen what I wanted." Adjusting his hat, the second turned and headed for the wall exit.
They had to act like normal tourists and attract minimal attention. As much as possible in such distinctive clothes.
Descending the stairs behind the wall on foot, they followed the path to the nearest gates—shinobi might be at the towers and entrances, and if you weren't a builder constantly going in and out or climbing the wall from various sides, they might notice and stop you.
For entering the village, they chose the northeast gates. Konoha had several large gates: north, south, east (aka "Central," the largest and main ones). The west side had the Hokage Rock memorial, so no big gates there. These handled most tourists, trade caravans, etc. But they weren't the only way in. There were smaller gates for some travelers, mostly locals coming and going from the outskirts. The northeast gates were right on that damaged wall section—or near it. Descending the small rise by the wall, the cloaked pair reached the path to those gates.
Only one guard was there now, and he was elderly, but dutiful. Spotting two figures in the morning mist approaching him directly, he perked up and grabbed his two-handed spear.
"Good morning..." he said to the two men now right up close. "Sorry, I didn't see your docu...ment..." His voice weakened sharply, and the old man decided to lean against the wall and sit on the ground, hugging his spear, upon seeing the red eyes of the shorter one. Those eyes held power, with four pupils each—three comma-like ones spinning around a central round one. Seeing them, the gate guard went limp and fell asleep.
His partner just snorted and kept going.
With his own eyes, the short one scanned the surroundings.
Of course, Konoha wasn't guarded just like that. A sensor dome stretched around the village. An ultra-thin film of constantly maintained chakra serving as a protective sphere over the entire village territory.
Invisible to the naked eye, few could even notice this signal barrier. Hiding in underground utilities or burrowing through earth was useless. The chakra film permeated everywhere and reacted to any entering or exiting object, living or not. No masking technique could sneak you in unnoticed if you couldn't see the barrier—knowledge of it was only a mediocre edge. You could be inside a sealed vessel the hypersensitive film couldn't penetrate, but that would only draw more interest from the village defenders.
With his eyes, the one who stopped could see the barrier. He saw the chakra structure and flows inside despite the energy's speed, like alternating current in wires. He saw all the formed chakra transmission markers, seals, and links between them, reading them like text on paper.
"Wait..." he said to his giant partner. "We're already under their sensor dome. I checked the reaction—they haven't spotted us yet because I fully copied its structure and created a similar dome over us, making us invisible to any sensor. But my limit for maintaining it is ten meters. Stay close, or your chakra will give you away and strong shinobi will swarm like flies."
"Tch..." the giant clicked his tongue and waited for his partner to approach. "Got it, Itachi..."
"Fuu..." I exhaled, finishing my workout. Today was my least favorite version. Most of the time went to shuriken and kunai throwing practice. Always the dullest part... Have to recall the basics and gradually ramp up from exercise to exercise, but it was necessary. I felt it wasn't wasted time. Sure, I threw cold weapons as well as any shinobi, but you can't let basic skills slip. For example, if my shuriken hadn't knocked Gaara's sand shuriken out of the air mid-flight, he might've popped my clone with that piercing attack, and the original wouldn't have made it to the battlefield in time—could've ended very badly. Never underestimate basics. Missing a rasengan on an enemy is less scary than missing a tree with a kunai. That comparison came to mind.
You won't convince yourself of the importance of what you're doing—no one will.
Gathering and neatly packing my gear into the pouch, I headed home with an extra sprint.
The fridge was basically empty; with all the village work lately, I couldn't be bothered to shop. A week after the mourning week had passed. November now, winter soon—no more evening runs in the fresh air. It'd gotten quite chilly and windy. Sure, I wasn't getting sick thanks to the atomic reactor in my gut, but I couldn't fully ignore the weather.
Fur under the jacket only in evenings? Easier not to go out. I did bring some laziness from my past life.
Home awaited a hot shower. I'd set the heater when I woke up. Yesterday I crashed in my clothes after another 24-hour shift—thank god today was a day off. First real day off in a week, not just sleeping in. Time for a proper wash with soap and shampoo, or I might start stinking...
After washing, I put on the same jacket but a fresh shirt underneath, same pants and boots. Breakfast at Ichiraku Ramen—good thing payments resumed after mourning, including for debris cleanup help. I even met a new type of awesome D-rank: one day we guarded a load of construction waste we partly loaded and hauled to a small settlement far from Konoha with the dump. Small recycling outfit there. Kakashi said later we were guarding not the waste, but the docs—reports on acceptance and village payment for disposal. Konoha now wants to hide all expenses and activity reports from outsiders. Post-attack, journalists and busybodies flooded in from other cities and countries.
Industrial spies, foreign reps, our fave government, clean and dirty traders, petty thieves... Work aplenty, not just for us. Can't imagine customs team's hell.
Spotting unfamiliar faces on a village run was easy now, so I ran wide roads toward Ichiraku.
Chose a suboptimal route, had to skirt the currently closed-to-visitors Kage building close-up. Pale, sad Konohamaru stood by the closed gates. He wasn't constantly crying anymore, but in free time, you'd find him here often. Staring at his grandpa's stone face, whispering to himself.
Kid was only nine... Man... Losing someone that close at that age. Now he was an unwanted guest here too. Gates closed due to influx of outsiders and foreigners, but that didn't help him. Outside academy, he spent tons of time at the Kage building or right by it, bringing academy friends. Now with no grandpa-Hokage, no entry without a pass or Kakashi's order.
He annoyed me sometimes, but I felt sorry for the kid and approached first.
"Good morning, Konohamaru." I started. He seemed glad to see me—turned, wiped impending tears, even smiled.
"Hey, little brother-Naruto. Day off today?"
"Yeah... Finally."
"Good." He turned back to his grandpa's stone face.
"Listen, about this whole thing..."
"Listen, about this whole thing..." we said together, making me smile.
"What'd you want, little brother?"
"You first?"
"Just... Thought you're a real hero now."
"Hero? C'mon..." I scratched my head.
"They say you fought sand ninja on the stadium, then chased their prince and fought him."
"Yeah..."
"I wanna do something big for the village too. Grandpa loved it so much he named me Konohamaru, gave his life for our win, and I did nothing—just evacuated with the kids. If I were your age, I'd be useful..." He grimaced, clenching fists.
"C'mon... You're not useless. Everything in its time, Konohamaru. You're helping with cleanups, errands, even debris like academy kids, right?"
"Yeah, they send us on that, no training classes now..."
"See!" I raised a finger. "That's important! Your labor already helps the village and people. Grandpa didn't die for dirt and buildings, but so kids like you live and work for the common good. For our happier lives he died, and your work proves his sacrifice wasn't vain—his legacy lives. In a way, that's more important than fighting enemies."
"Yeah? Didn't think of it that way, little brother."
"And here's your reward..." I remembered the two-free-ramen coupon from Ichiraku in my back pocket, pulled it out, handed to Konohamaru. If I find the Pervert, ramen money's covered—he should show soon.
"Whoa, for me?!" he exclaimed.
"Yep..." I nodded. "Take a friend or invite a girl." I grinned.
"Girls? I'm nine! Little brother-Naruto, you're a pervert..."
"Hey, name-caller loses coupon and gets forehead flick!" I fake-outraged. Konohamaru ran off laughing.
"So that's the Fourth's heir?" the cloaked giant asked, adjusting his hat.
"Yeah, that's him." his partner replied.
"Noisy kid, strong chakra—I feel it from here... Volumes amazing for his age. Almost as much as you now, Itachi."
"I see."
They stood on a bridge between tiers of Konoha's central park. Below, a road where they spotted the running blond boy in sleeveless leather jacket, bracer and glove on one arm, simple bandage on the other like boxing wraps on hand and forearm. Black field pants, polished boots. Short katana on back—full one-handed for his height.
Itachi smiled at the boy, but no one saw.
"What now? Wait for attack chance? Watch him meanwhile?" the giant asked, like awaiting orders.
"No. Too risky tailing him. Others thought of tracking the Jinchuriki too. Act like tourists; I memorized his chakra signature—easier to find."
"I memorized his chakra too. So now? Tea?" the giant mocked.
"Yes, good idea..." Itachi replied.
On the roof of an evacuated building—residents relocated for nearby repairs and construction—sat a tall, broad-shouldered man with snow-white hair in a long braid to his waist.
Smiling, he peered through his telescope; sandwich remnants and thermos with cup nearby.
"Heh-heh-heh... Splendid... Good they cleared the building—perfect hot springs view. Whoa, playful one; despite those massive assets, you run fast after your friend... I'll remember you. Gotta try getting closer..."
Two elderly in traditional clothes and travel cloaks stepped onto the roof behind him. The bespectacled old man disapprovingly eyed the white-haired one's activity, stepped forward, cleared throat pointedly.
"Khm-khm..." The telescope guy ignored. The old man glanced at the boiling old woman, ignored on principle.
"Damn... When do pleasure houses reopen? I'd take even plump ones. Mourning's over, but..." he muttered.
"Jiraiya!" she snapped indignantly; he turned puzzled.
"No, not ready for that—sorry, ma'am, even if my type, your age couldn't handle my thrust at the key moment..."
"Stop fooling around!" the old woman barked.
"Fine... What do two Leaf Elders want from me? Good morning... Koharu-sama, Homura-sama." Jiraiya nodded briefly to each, collapsed his telescope.
"Good morning." the man replied.
"Don't play dumb—it won't help!" she commanded. "As if you don't know why we're here?!"
"Honestly... Heh..." Jiraiya sighed. "Too many reasons come to mind. From wanting a private evening with me—but I'll pass, hungry as I am..."
"Tch..." She clenched fists, clicked tongue.
"To you assigning me as ex-shinobi."
"No hiding behind age or vet status now, Jiraiya. We can assign even you... You were still the Third's top personal special-ops officer, letting you roam free."
"Heh... Thanks, old timer, real pal..." Jiraiya skyward. "So, to business? What do you want?"
"You really don't get it?" glasses man said. "Village needs you."
"Why?" Jiraiya blunt. "Wind-Sand talks went great. Sound has an ally now; Orochimaru retreated without pressing, heavily wounded at least—and Third's body suggests... He'll be out long."
"Talks succeeded; got some classified info, understood their quick surrender and anti-Sound alliance urge." the old woman said.
"Hm?"
"Fourth Kazekage fell too—no doubt who did it and impersonated him en route to Leaf."
"Ha! Orochimaru style..." Jiraiya grinned, earning sterner glare. "Sorry..."
"Can't war Sound without securing rear. We need you. You helped defend—Fire Will remains in you. No shinobi stronger now. Jonin, Elders, clan heads council unanimously decided..." she said.
"Jiraiya. We nominate you to Fire Lord's Feudal Lord as new leader. Fifth titleholder, Konoha protector, sage, Lord-Hokage! You're elected Fifth Hokage." the old man intoned solemnly.
"Knew it, damn... Third time... Can't leave me alone, huh?" Jiraiya palmed face, standing. "Clear I don't fit?"
"If legendary Sannin unworthy, who? Flaws sure, but turn from village in need? Shun fallen mentor's will? Hiruzen wanted this! You're worthy, Jiraiya—stop doubting, running like a kid!" glasses man insisted.
"If you need Sannin... Another besides me and Orochimaru."
"Uh..."
"She's First's direct blood heir, his granddaughter, one of three legendary ninja like me. Led our military-med branch long. Built it wartime; it runs still. Smarter than me—undead assault guy."
"Maybe sense..." old man pondered.
"Impossible..." old woman firm. "No one's seen Princess Tsunade in over ten years! Past legend, bad rumors. No time hunt; like you, no clue where."
"I'll find her... Month enough."
"Too long."
"Serious? Clean this mess first. Then see."
"We'll send Third's ANBU captain with you..."
"Won't run. Word. Though..." Jiraiya pondered. "One kid from his crew on this mission? Wouldn't mind..." He grinned.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan