Tazuna let out a long sigh.
"That child's father… he was killed trying to stand up to Gato."
His voice trembled as he continued.
"Inari used to idolize his father more than anyone. He believed he was invincible… and then—"
By the time Tazuna finished recounting the tragedy, everyone at the table had fallen silent.
Naruto's fists were clenched, his earlier anger replaced by guilt.
Sakura lowered her gaze, eyes soft with pity.
Even Kakashi's usually unreadable face turned solemn.
Tazuna's words had stripped away all pretense — the pain of this village was raw and real.
"Kakashi-san," Tazuna said, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes,
"the bridge that connects us to the mainland… it's more than just wood and stone. If it's not completed, Wave Country will forever remain in Gato's chains."
He bowed his head, voice cracking.
"Please… help us. Let us be free."
Tsunami, standing beside him, reached out to comfort her father.
"We'll finish the bridge, Father. With Kakashi-san and the others here, we'll make it happen."
Arata watched quietly, his eyes unreadable under the moonlight filtering through the window.
The sorrow of the powerless…
In this world, those without strength are nothing more than ants.
And this is supposed to be an era of peace.
The thought weighed heavily on him.
To someone like Arata, Gato was nothing — a worm that could be crushed without effort.
But to the people of Wave Country, Gato was a god — a tyrant who could decide their lives with a flick of his wrist.
It was the first time Arata truly felt what it meant to be powerless.
And for the first time, he understood why, one day, this bridge would bear the name Naruto Bridge.
Because for the villagers, Naruto wasn't just a reckless genin.
He was the hero who would save their world.
Kakashi glanced at Arata.
He saw the thoughtful look on the boy's face — and quietly nodded.
Good, he thought. He's beginning to see it too.
This world wasn't black and white.
Power was neither good nor evil.
What mattered was how you used it — whether to oppress, or to protect.
That night, silence fell over Tazuna's home.
After dinner, everyone retired to rest.
But Arata couldn't sleep.
He sat on the balcony of the second floor, bathed in the pale silver of the moonlight.
The forest beyond whispered with the hum of insects and the occasional cry of a night bird — chaotic, yet soothing.
He stared into the darkness, lost in thought.
The shadows felt endless, stretching far beyond his sight — and yet he couldn't look away.
A soft sound broke the silence.
Someone had joined him.
Without turning, Arata spoke quietly.
"Kakashi-sensei… if I one day become the strongest person in the world, what kind of person do you think I'll be?"
Kakashi froze for a moment.
Then, after a pause, he smiled beneath his mask.
"I believe in you."
No hesitation. No mockery. No doubt.
Arata chuckled softly.
"You believe in me that easily?"
He leaned back against the railing, voice low and thoughtful.
"Honestly, Kakashi-sensei… lately, I've started feeling something strange."
"The more power I gain, the more… hollow it feels."
He looked up at the sky, eyes reflecting the moonlight.
"If I really do become the strongest — stronger than anyone — what happens to me then?"
"People always say power corrupts. Do you think I'll still be me?"
His voice wavered, almost imperceptibly.
"Why is it that no one in the past — not even the greatest shinobi — ever seemed able to dominate an entire era? Was it restraint… or arrogance?"
For once, Arata sounded uncertain.
Even afraid.
He knew the truth: the system had made him destined for greatness.
One day, he would surpass everyone — even the gods of this world.
But when that day came… would he still recognize himself?
When strength becomes absolute, so does temptation.
When life and death lie in your hands, how long before you start to play god?
Could anyone resist that?
Kakashi watched him quietly, then sighed.
He, too, turned his gaze toward the distant mountains bathed in moonlight.
"I don't know what you'll become, Arata," he said softly.
"But I do know this — you won't be consumed by greed."
"I trust my instincts."
Arata turned to him with a faint smile.
"You sound awfully sure of yourself."
Kakashi's lone eye curved into a smile.
"Because I believe in you."
Arata didn't reply.
He just stared at the night sky — listening to the soft hum of the world around him.
After a while, Kakashi spoke again.
"The Third Hokage once told me stories about the era of the First Hokage. Do you want to hear one?"
Arata nodded silently.
"Yeah."
So Kakashi began to tell him — about the man once called the God of Shinobi.
About Hashirama Senju, his boundless power, and the will that guided him.
Arata listened intently.
When the story ended, Kakashi looked at him and said quietly,
"You remind me of him, Arata."
"At first, I was worried the power inside you might one day threaten the village."
"But now, I believe you'll use it to protect it — not destroy it."
"That's why I've decided — I'll teach you everything I know. My whole life's worth of knowledge."
Arata smiled faintly.
"And if I end up proving you wrong?"
Kakashi's voice hardened, though his tone stayed calm.
"Then I'll stop you myself. Even if it costs me my life."
"But I know you won't let it come to that. One day, you'll be my pride — not my regret."
He placed a hand on Arata's shoulder, then stood and walked back inside.
Arata stayed there, gazing at the moon, a soft smile curving his lips.
"Whatever," he murmured. "The future can wait. As long as I don't change now, that's enough."
He leaned back, eyes half-closed.
Maybe someday power will twist me. Maybe it won't.
But what's the point of worrying about a future that hasn't happened yet?
Right now… this moment… is enough.
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