Beside Kisame Hoshigaki stood a tall man cloaked in black, the red clouds of the Akatsuki drifting faintly in the morning mist. The pair gazed toward Konoha from a distant ridge, the village lying quiet and wounded beneath a pale sky.
"The Third Hokage is seriously injured and in a coma," Kisame remarked, his tone carrying faint amusement. "Hard to believe that old man Hiruzen could be pushed to this state by Orochimaru alone."
His sharp, shark-like grin widened slightly. "Coming to Konoha now, to capture the Nine-Tails… heh, this might be the perfect opportunity."
"Ah."
The quiet response came from his partner, almost indifferent, carrying no emotion at all.
Uchiha Itachi.
Realizing Itachi wasn't in the mood to talk, Kisame wisely fell silent. He knew better than to provoke his partner — Itachi's calm could turn lethal in an instant.
The two stood there for a while, gazing silently at Konoha. The smoke that once rose from the destruction during the invasion had long faded, but the village still carried the scars of chaos.
Itachi's expression was unreadable, but beneath that still mask, his thoughts churned.
He still couldn't understand it.
Why had Sasuke… defected?
News of Sasuke's betrayal had already spread across the shinobi world. For Konoha — now leaderless and weakened — there were no secrets left.
With the Third Hokage comatose and the village's leadership in disarray, spies and envoys from every Hidden Village had quietly slipped into the Land of Fire, all to observe one thing:
Who would become the next Hokage.
After all, that decision would determine not only Konoha's future, but the balance of power across the entire ninja world.
And now… it seemed that Shimura Danzō was preparing to seize that position.
If that happened, Konoha would become far more aggressive — ruthless, even.
The fragile peace between the Five Great Nations could shatter overnight.
But Itachi's purpose here wasn't political.
He had returned to Konoha for one reason — to uncover the truth behind Sasuke's defection.
To find out who had delivered his younger brother into Orochimaru's hands.
He hadn't found conclusive proof yet, but deep down, Itachi already knew the answer.
Danzō.
It could only be him.
That manipulative old warhawk… he had already robbed Itachi of everything once. He wouldn't let Danzō use Sasuke as a pawn, too.
If Danzō dared to move against Sasuke again—Itachi's fingers twitched slightly beneath his cloak.
He would kill him. Without hesitation.
Suddenly, Itachi turned his head slightly toward Kisame.
"You seem… different," he said quietly.
Kisame blinked. "Huh? Me?"
He tilted his head, flashing a grin full of shark-like teeth.
"What's so different about me?"
Itachi's eyes narrowed slightly.
"I'm not sure. Perhaps it's just my imagination, but your chakra feels… unsettled."
Kisame chuckled.
"Maybe it's just because we're near Konoha. I can't help getting excited. Samehada's been itching for a good fight — and this village is full of strong opponents."
Itachi didn't respond, only giving Kisame a calm glance before turning back toward the village.
"…You stay here," he said finally. "I'll go scout ahead."
Kisame's grin widened. "Heh, don't be stingy, Itachi. I'll come too."
Itachi didn't refuse — but he didn't agree, either.
In truth, he preferred to go alone.
He wanted to check on the Third Hokage's condition himself. Bringing Kisame along would only draw suspicion — a man like him couldn't move unnoticed.
At that same moment, a group of shinobi had just reached Konoha's main gates.
Tsunade. Jiraiya.
And behind them — Kakashi Hatake, Asuma Sarutobi, and Might Guy.
Itachi's gaze lingered on the group from afar. The combined strength of those individuals was immense — far from easy prey, even for Akatsuki.
Was this really the right time to return?
He wasn't sure anymore.
A faint wind passed through the trees, carrying with it the scent of smoke and steel — and an unfamiliar hollowness.
For the first time in a long while, Itachi Uchiha felt something stirring inside him.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Something far heavier.
Emptiness.
Something felt… off.
A strange unease pressed against Shigure's chest — faint, but unmistakable. A sense of danger that refused to fade.
Hidden Mist Village.
Shigure turned toward Mei Terumī.
"For this situation with Kumogakure… are you sure you don't need me to step in?"
Mei smiled faintly, though her expression was strained.
"If you make a move, the entire nature of the situation changes. We're not at that point yet."
She tried to sound confident, but the worry in her voice betrayed her.
Even with Shigure in the village — a Jinchūriki wielding terrifying power — there were still problems that brute strength alone couldn't solve. When it came to political provocations, Hidden Mist had to stand on its own. If they relied on Shigure for every crisis, the world would see the Mist as weak.
And in truth… they were lacking in top-tier shinobi.
Unlike Konoha, which had veterans like Kakashi Hatake, Might Guy, and countless elite Jōnin to call upon, the Mist could barely field a few. Their high-end strength had been gutted by years of civil war and the Bloody Mist era.
"If we had even a handful of shinobi like Kakashi," Mei murmured, "Kumogakure wouldn't dare to test us so casually."
Her eyes flickered with frustration.
Chōjūrō, Haku, and Zabuza were talented — no question — but they still lacked experience and power compared to the elite of other nations.
And Zabuza… though his Missing-nin status had been revoked, accepting him so openly could raise suspicions among the other villages.
Unless the situation grew desperate, she couldn't risk deploying him.
That left only Haku and Chōjūrō. Two young shinobi who bore the weight of a nation's dignity on their shoulders.
Mei sighed softly.
"It seems you're troubled by the lack of shinobi strong enough to stand on their own," Shigure said quietly, reading her thoughts with ease.
Mei glanced up in surprise, then let out a bitter chuckle.
"You really do see right through me."
She looked off toward the distant sea, her expression softening.
"I just hope the Seven Ninja Swordsmen can be reassembled soon. If we had a full team again… maybe I wouldn't feel so powerless when things like this happen."
Shigure grinned.
"In that case, I'll go find you a powerful ally."
"A powerful… ally?" Mei blinked. "Who—"
Before she could finish, Shigure leapt into the air. A burst of chakra shimmered beneath his feet as the Flying Nimbus formed, carrying him upward into the clouds.
"Wait—!" she called out, but he was already gone, soaring away like a golden comet.
The Mist shinobi around her were stunned.
"…He just left?" one of them murmured in disbelief.
"Did he really just… fly away?" another said.
Their faces paled as realization sank in.
That was a Jinchūriki — a living weapon containing not one but two Tailed Beasts — flying off without permission!
Which village in the world let their Jinchūriki run around freely like that?!
Shigure, of course, paid them no mind.
With the Nimbus under his control, he shot across the sky at incredible speed. In just over ten minutes, he'd crossed the Land of Water, the vast sea, and the Land of Waves, streaking straight toward the Land of Fire.
As he traveled, white doves appeared in flocks — soaring up from villages and forests below. They circled around him, one by one dissolving into wisps of chakra smoke that merged into the Nimbus beneath his feet.
Each time one joined, the cloud accelerated, glowing faintly brighter.
"Faster," Shigure murmured.
The wind howled around him as the Nimbus streaked through the heavens toward Konoha Village.
Meanwhile, within Konoha Hospital, tension hung thick in the air.
Tsunade pushed open the door to Hiruzen Sarutobi's ward, her face grim. She hadn't even bothered to acknowledge Danzō, who had arrived moments earlier with his usual self-serving concern. Instead, she stormed straight into the room, Shizune following behind her.
The Third Hokage lay unconscious on the bed, his breathing shallow. Bandages wrapped his body, and his chakra presence flickered weakly — the toll of his battle with Orochimaru evident even now.
After a quick examination, Tsunade exhaled heavily and looked toward Jiraiya.
Her head moved ever so slightly in a silent shake.
Jiraiya's heart sank.
"…It's too late, isn't it?"
"Even if I perform surgery," Tsunade said quietly, "he won't last much longer. At best… a few days of consciousness."
The words hit Jiraiya like a blow.
To save him now would mean prolonging his suffering. But to let him lie there comatose — a living corpse until death — was no mercy either.
He clenched his fists. His voice trembled slightly, but his resolve was firm.
"…Save him."
Tsunade blinked, startled. "Jiraiya—"
"There are still things," he said, raising his head, eyes burning with quiet determination, "that only the old man can resolve… once he wakes up."
For a long moment, Tsunade said nothing. Then she let out a long breath and nodded.
"Understood. Prepare the operating room," she said softly. "And send for Shizune. I'll need her assistance."
As she turned to leave, the light from the window caught her face — and for the briefest second, the strong, confident Sannin looked like a weary child once more.
Outside, the wind rustled through the Hokage Monument.
The old era of the Professor, the God of Shinobi, was fading.
And somewhere beyond the horizon, Shigure was flying toward a new one.
...
TN:
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