Shukaku barreled through the forest like a runaway train, zero concern for Gaara's comfort as the redhead clung for dear life atop the beast's head.
Back in the dense woods, Rinjin shot a glance at Shikamaru, who looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Rinjin could only shrug, exasperated.
"See? Told you. The moment I showed up to watch the spectacle, they stopped fighting. Figures!"
Well, great. Naruto was going to have to wait for another chance to—uh—Talk-no-Jutsu Gaara.
Shikamaru was still reeling, mind blank.
The whole battle had shifted the instant that monster turned its gaze their way.
Even a total idiot could tell what that beast was afraid of.
A chill ran down his spine. Shikamaru staggered upright, shuffling after Rinjin as the older man strode off.
He had a million questions, but there was no way he'd ask that towering, intimidating guy.
Better to go home and ask his old man. Maybe he'd get some answers there.
...
In Konoha, the dust had settled. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, and Orochimaru's clash was finally over.
Old age had caught up with Hiruzen. In the end, he'd unleashed the Reaper Death Seal, sealing away the First and Second Hokage along with one of Orochimaru's arms.
Time crawled by...
Three days later, the village gathered for a somber funeral honoring Hiruzen Sarutobi and the other fallen shinobi.
Everyone in Konoha wore black, faces set in the same grim, grief-stricken mask.
The ninja titan who'd ruled Konoha for over forty years had died at the hands of his own student.
Outside the funeral grounds, Jiraiya stood with arms crossed, back pressed against a tree, expression unreadable as he stared at the memorial stone. His thoughts churned, dark and deep.
He didn't know how long he'd stood there before an ANBU in a bird-mask appeared, bowing low.
"Jiraiya-sama, Advisors Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado request your presence."
Jiraiya nodded silently and followed.
He could have saved Hiruzen. But he hadn't.
The old man was too far gone—age and fatigue clouding his judgment.
And the Sarutobi clan behind him? They kept him propped up, unwilling to let go, forcing him to stay in power.
Hiruzen had mellowed in recent years, no longer the jealous guardian of talent he'd been decades ago, but he was trapped.
The Sarutobi needed their privileges. His direct descendants needed the protection only an old, entrenched Hokage could give.
After Minato's death, did Orochimaru—before his betrayal—even lack the qualifications to be Hokage?
Jiraiya knew it all. He just kept quiet.
A true hero, he thought, should have a heart as vast as the ocean—able to hold everything.
A wandering dragon should return to the sea, but the sea doesn't welcome... me, Jiraiya.
...
On the Hokage building's rooftop—Jiraiya had refused the conference room—he leaned on the railing, gazing out at the horizon.
Behind him, Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado stood together.
"Jiraiya, by unanimous decision of the Daimyo and the village leadership, you've been chosen as the next Hokage!"
For a long moment, Jiraiya didn't respond. Then he turned, face blank, and shook his head.
"I'm just an old fossil. Let the younger generation take over."
Koharu's eyes narrowed, her gaze never leaving him.
Picking Jiraiya was the result of careful debate among her, Homura, and the rest of the Konoha elite. Even Danzo—who'd always coveted the Hokage's seat—hadn't objected.
Right now, no one in Konoha was more qualified than Jiraiya.
Strength? Decades of war had proven his mettle.
Loyalty? He was Hiruzen's student, the First and Second Hokage's grand-student—Hokage lineage, through and through.
Appearance? Tall, imposing, dignified.
Wisdom and reputation? The Sannin's name echoed across the shinobi world.
And most importantly, Jiraiya was a civilian—no clan chains holding him back.
All things considered, except for that one person the Second Hokage had ordered them to guard against, Jiraiya was perfect.
But his refusal made Koharu and the others—who valued power above all—grit their teeth in silent frustration.
"The village's younger generation doesn't have anyone ready for this responsibility," Homura replied.
"What about Asuma Sarutobi?" Jiraiya asked.
Homura shook his head.
The Sarutobi clan might want Asuma to succeed, but the kid didn't have the reputation or strength.
The Guardian Shinobi Twelve? Big name, but behind the scenes, they were nothing special. The village elders knew real power when they saw it.
Not to mention that guy—the one they'd been ordered to keep a close eye on—even all the young shinobi together couldn't take him down.
Look at Onoki, that stubborn old stone—meek with the Hidden Rain, but throwing punches at the rest of the world.
Even the Third Raikage, tough as nails—Onoki still sniped at him when he could, never afraid to stir trouble.
Konoha prided itself as the strongest of the Five Great Villages. If they couldn't get that guy as Hokage, getting his childhood friend would be the next best thing.
Seeing Homura's troubled look, Jiraiya let out a heavy sigh.
"I... still don't think I'm the one. If you can't find anyone else, bring Tsunade back."
Koharu opened her mouth, but Homura gently tugged her sleeve.
Princess Tsunade...
No, she was Sakuho... Tsunade now.
Was a married princess still a princess?
The thought made Homura's head throb.
If—just if—Tsunade agreed, it might actually work.
Strength? She was a Sannin, no question.
Reputation? Tsunade's name carried even more weight than Jiraiya's.
And her medical expertise made her perfect for the village's logistics.
Clan? The Senju were scattered throughout Konoha, even if the name was mostly history.
Tsunade as Hokage would be ideal.
But...
She was married.
And married to that guy—the one whose name the elders didn't even want to say.
Headache.
After a long silence, Homura finally spoke, voice weary.
"We'll need to discuss your suggestion."
"Discuss" was just a formality. He already knew the answer he didn't want to admit.
First off, the Fire Country Daimyo—he didn't know Konoha's politics, but he'd definitely support the idea.
He was close with the Rain Country Daimyo; Fire and Rain traded often, and everyone from nobles to merchants got along.
Second, Danzo wouldn't oppose it.
Anything that involved Rinjin got an automatic "Yes, yes, absolutely!" from that old fox.
Rubbing his temples, Homura led Koharu away from the rooftop, resignation heavy in his steps.
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