Why did he think he could win?
That single question made Hiruzen Sarutobi's body stiffen ever so slightly, but his mind remained unusually calm.
He understood one thing very clearly—if Natsuhiko had truly intended to kill him, there would have been no pointless conversation. By now, he would already be dead.
After all, Natsuhiko's conduct within the ANBU had always been decisive and ruthless. That sharp, efficient combat instinct was precisely what had earned him the position of squad captain years ago.
With that in mind, Hiruzen slowly lifted his head and looked toward the center of the explosion in the distance.
The smoke was beginning to dissipate.
There, standing tall, was a massive shield shaped like a fanged demonic face—resembling the mask of an asura, exuding an oppressive, almost otherworldly presence.
Hiruzen recognized it instantly.
And the moment he did, his heart couldn't help but stir.
"Wood Release: Hōbi Technique?"
The Hōbi Technique was undoubtedly one of the most powerful defensive techniques within Wood Release. Even though Hiruzen had never witnessed Hashirama Senju unleash its full might, he knew enough to understand what it meant.
Seeing that technique before him, a sense of helplessness crept into his chest. Breaking through such a defense… was something he likely had no answer for.
And he wasn't wrong.
The defensive power of the Hōbi Technique was notoriously difficult to overcome—especially now that Natsuhiko had infused it with senjutsu. Its resilience had reached an almost absurd level.
It might not rival Hashirama at his peak, who could withstand the slashing power of Madara Uchiha's armored Susanoo without even leaving a scratch on its surface—
—but against Hiruzen, it was more than enough.
Even if more opponents joined the fight, it likely wouldn't make much difference.
Still…
The cost was steep.
Natsuhiko could feel the drain on his chakra and couldn't help but shake his head slightly. Hiruzen's destructive power truly lived up to the reputation of a Hokage.
Of course, all of this assumed that Natsuhiko wasn't aiming for a quick and decisive victory.
Winning outright would certainly reduce complications.
But it wouldn't create the same crushing despair… the same suffocating pressure… as slowly toying with his opponent like a cat playing with a mouse.
To kill a man, one must first break his spirit.
That had always been Natsuhiko's way.
"I have to say, Hokage-sama… your techniques are truly terrifying," Natsuhiko finally spoke when Hiruzen remained silent for too long, a faint smile curling on his lips. "That level of destructive power almost killed me."
"Hmph. With the Hōbi Technique protecting you, killing you is nothing more than a foolish dream," Hiruzen replied coldly, his expression darkening. "Drop the act. You weren't injured at all… were you?"
"That's a rather difficult question for your subordinate to answer…"
Natsuhiko put on a troubled expression, as if genuinely conflicted. But in the very next moment, he gave his answer without hesitation.
"Indeed, your techniques are powerful, Hokage-sama. But for me…"
He trailed off there, leaving the rest unsaid.
There was no need.
Hiruzen wasn't a fool—he understood perfectly well what Natsuhiko meant.
The implication alone was enough to make his blood pressure rise, yet he managed to restrain himself. Deep down, he already knew the truth—
He had no way to kill Natsuhiko.
Not unless he possessed some specialized technique—something capable of suppressing the Flying Thunder God, or sealing away Natsuhiko's Wood Release entirely.
Taking a slow breath, Hiruzen turned his head slightly.
His gaze fell on Natsuhiko, who now stood behind him.
Only then did he speak again, his voice low and measured.
"Let me guess… it's not just Wood Release you're relying on to counter my attacks. You can also use the Flying Thunder God Technique, can't you?"
At last, everything became clear.
What he hadn't been able to process in the heat of battle now snapped into place with startling clarity.
"The reason you were able to appear right beside me… wasn't because you had ANBU shadowing me," Hiruzen continued, his eyes narrowing. "It's because you marked me with the Flying Thunder God seal… isn't it?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama." Natsuhiko nodded with a faint smile, showing no intention of hiding the truth. "There's a Flying Thunder God mark on your body. From the very beginning, you've been within my range."
"So that's how it is…" Hiruzen Sarutobi clenched his teeth, his voice tightening as he pressed on. "If that's the case, why didn't you just use the Flying Thunder God Technique? By now, I should have already died by your blade!"
"That wouldn't be appropriate, Hokage-sama."
Natsuhiko's smile never faded—but for some reason, that calm, gentle expression only made Hiruzen feel a deeper chill creeping into his bones.
"How could I possibly kill a Hokage?" Natsuhiko continued softly, his tone almost courteous. "Besides, didn't you want to see the extent of my strength? If I relied solely on the Flying Thunder God Technique, wouldn't that disappoint you?"
He paused briefly, his voice remaining light, almost warm.
"So I had no choice but to show you properly… to let you understand what I'm capable of. Isn't that only natural?"
His words were quiet, almost soothing.
Then, in the very next moment, Natsuhiko casually placed a hand on Hiruzen's shoulder.
Before Hiruzen could react—
Chakra stirred.
The world shifted.
In an instant, they were gone.
When the space around them stabilized, they had already returned to the battlefield where they had previously confronted the Root shinobi.
Remarkably, under the protection of Natsuhiko's Wood Release barrier, the area had remained almost entirely untouched.
Those Root members were still alive—
—but their condition had worsened significantly.
After having so much of their chakra drained, and then being shaken violently by Hiruzen's techniques, they now looked barely conscious. Even Yamato—that young man—had already been bound tightly by Natsuhiko's Wood Release.
"Hokage-sama, some things must be faced head-on. If you act, you must take responsibility," Natsuhiko said calmly, his gaze steady and composed, as though he were merely speaking to an old acquaintance. "I believe you understand what I mean."
His expression remained gentle, almost friendly.
"This boy… he belongs to me now. As for everything else, we can settle it later. After all, you said it yourself—Konoha cannot be without a Hokage."
"…And what else?" Hiruzen stared at him for a long moment before the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "What more do you want?"
"For now, I have everything I need." Natsuhiko shook his head lightly, fully aware of his own limits. "As for the Hokage's side… there may be some arrangements to consider."
He was already the head of the ANBU, but he knew better than to overreach—at least, not unless he himself became Hokage one day.
Still, as someone who stood behind Minato Namikaze, he had to think about broader matters as well.
So he offered an intentionally ambiguous answer.
It wasn't one that would satisfy Hiruzen—but in their current situation, strength dictated everything.
"Then… what about Danzo Shimura?" Hiruzen's fists tightened as he fixed Natsuhiko with a sharp gaze. "How do you intend to deal with him?"
"I trust that Hokage-sama will give me a satisfactory answer." Natsuhiko's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm merely a member of the ANBU—I cannot make decisions for the Hokage. But now… it's time for you to make yours."
Natsuhiko had no intention of directly judging Danzo's fate.
But he could use this matter—indefinitely—as leverage against Hiruzen.
That had always been his goal.
Handled properly, he might even find a way to make use of Orochimaru in the process.
The initiative was firmly in his hands.
Whether Hiruzen accepted it or not… he had no choice but to yield.
Hiruzen stared at Natsuhiko in silence for a long time.
At last, he gave a slow nod.
Then, with faint tremors in his hands, he raised them.
"I understand. And didn't you say you wanted to witness the power from the founding days of Konoha?"
His voice grew heavier, resolute.
"Very well. I'll grant your wish."
His eyes locked onto Natsuhiko's.
"But remember this moment well… and pray that you won't come to regret it."
"Fire Release: Great Flame Technique!"
...
After several days of travel, Natsuhiko and Hiruzen Sarutobi finally arrived at the capital of the Land of Fire.
As they stood before the city, both men remained unusually calm. The capital was solemn and dignified, yet it lacked true prosperity—a place of authority more than vitality.
But neither of them showed the slightest reaction.
They had both lived in Konoha for far too long, and more importantly, they were figures of authority within it. Men like them did not allow their thoughts to show so easily.
Besides, compared to Konoha, this capital truly fell short.
Though Konoha was called a "village," in terms of scale, population flow, and economic activity, it far surpassed many towns—and even some cities.
The reason it was still called a village lay partly in the nature of its people.
It was ruled by shinobi.
No matter how many civilians lived there, it was the ninja who held absolute authority, who stood at the center of power. That fact would never change.
Even now, with the number of shinobi having grown into the tens of thousands, it still wasn't truly a large population. Strip away the civilians, and calling it a "village" was entirely reasonable.
Of course, to Natsuhiko, such distinctions meant little.
In his previous life, there had been so-called "villages" with populations exceeding two hundred thousand. Compared to that, Konoha's combined population of shinobi and civilians—barely over a hundred thousand—fit the name just fine.
Beyond population, there was another reason.
A matter of politics.
Calling it a "village" was a way to demonstrate loyalty to the Daimyō—a symbolic gesture, a matter of face. In rank, a village stood below a city, and a Kage stood beneath a Daimyō. The hierarchy was clear, even if, in practice, it was little more than a formality.
Still… it was enough to soothe egos.
"We're here," Hiruzen said flatly, glancing at Natsuhiko before continuing, "We'll rest for the night. Tomorrow, we meet the Daimyō."
"Yes, Hokage-sama." Natsuhiko paid no mind to Hiruzen's sour expression, maintaining his usual gentle smile.
Hiruzen, however, felt an inexplicable discomfort at that response. In the end, he simply let out a cold snort and walked ahead without another word.
Natsuhiko only shrugged lightly before following after him.
Hiruzen's attitude was hardly surprising.
Anyone in his position would struggle to remain calm.
First, there was Danzo Shimura—the man Hiruzen had sacrificed so much to protect—only to have him targeted and nearly killed. Then came the revelation that Danzo had secretly deployed experimental subjects from the Senju lineage.
And, as if fate were mocking him, this very mission had forced Hiruzen into a compromise—bringing along Natsuhiko, a member of the Senju clan who also intended to "request"… funds from the Daimyō of the Land of Fire to further develop Konoha and the ANBU.
That was where everything fell apart.
Natsuhiko discovered the experimental subject.
And Hiruzen himself was pushed to the brink—mocked relentlessly by this young man, only to be completely overwhelmed when they clashed.
Even though Natsuhiko had shown restraint—taking only the experimental subject without pressing further demands—
—that restraint made things even more dangerous.
Because it meant that when the time came, he could demand anything.
Worse still, for the sake of that subject—and to continue protecting Danzo—Hiruzen would likely be forced to compromise again and again.
Under such circumstances, how could he possibly remain in a good mood?
Especially after being forced by Natsuhiko to unleash a Fire Release technique.
The flames had surged skyward, igniting the Wood Release constructs Natsuhiko had created. And once fire met wood, the inferno only grew more ferocious.
The blazing flames spread rapidly along the wooden branches, consuming everything in their path—
until the Root shinobi captured by Natsuhiko were all swallowed by fire.
Even Hiruzen Sarutobi aside, Natsuhiko himself couldn't erase that scene from his mind.
Those Root shinobi had struggled desperately, their bodies bound tightly by Wood Release, unable to break free no matter how they thrashed. In the end, they were consumed by Hiruzen's flames, reduced to nothing but ash.
It was a sight that shook the heart.
A brutal, unforgettable image.
It was no wonder Hiruzen now harbored such deep resentment toward him.
But Natsuhiko didn't care.
That old man wasn't someone worthy of sympathy.
The collapse of one's carefully constructed image was always a terrifying thing. Since he had chosen to craft himself into something precise—something controlled—then he would maintain it to the very end, never allowing even the slightest crack to show.
Just like now.
He would always wear his mask.
Because once that mask shattered, the consequences would be nothing short of catastrophic.
Everyone pays a price for their actions. Even I'm no exception… though at least I don't have foolish allies handing me opportunities on a silver platter—like delivering Yamato straight into my hands.
At the thought of Yamato, a bright smile spread across Natsuhiko's face.
The boy had already been knocked unconscious and sent back to Konoha via the Flying Thunder God Technique.
Now, his chakra was completely sealed. Even his five senses had been suppressed, his body wrapped up so tightly he resembled a dumpling, locked away in the ANBU prison—kept company by none other than Hidan.
As long as that boy remained in his grasp, both Danzo Shimura and Hiruzen were effectively tethered by an invisible leash.
And whenever Natsuhiko wished—
he could pull.
Hard.
Of course, he wasn't naïve enough to think those two would simply submit. Men like them would never accept being controlled without resistance.
But Natsuhiko had no intention of waiting for their counterattack.
No—
he would push them into making their move.
I wonder… being forced to choose between Orochimaru and Danzo… how interesting would that feel?
His gaze lingered on Hiruzen's back as they walked, and a faint smile curled at the corner of his lips.
Especially when, no matter what choice you make… you're destined to choose Danzo in the end. That should make it even more… memorable.
Why is it that every time I wake up, I catch you doing something underhanded?
Just as Natsuhiko was savoring the thought of Hiruzen's future misfortune, a voice suddenly echoed in his mind, cutting through his thoughts.
"Scheming against others all the time—doesn't it exhaust you? Wouldn't it be easier to just cut off his head and be done with it?"
"Are you some kind of terrorist?" Natsuhiko replied inwardly, his tone dripping with disdain. "Life in the shinobi world isn't just about killing. It's about relationships, strategy… understanding how things work. You get that?"
"I don't," the little Nine-Tails answered honestly, shaking its head. "And I don't need to. I'm not human, so why should I care?"
"Then stop talking so much. You're not the one who has to deal with all this anyway."
Natsuhiko rolled his eyes slightly as he followed behind Hiruzen, his head lowered, yet his mind continued idly chatting with the small fox.
For some reason, he found that he genuinely enjoyed these conversations.
Perhaps it was because of the system.
Or perhaps it was because this "little Nine-Tails" was newly born—innocent and untainted—yet still carried the memories of the greater Kurama, making it far from ignorant.
Talking to such a being felt… easy.
Comfortable.
Maybe it was because, deep down, Natsuhiko himself was tired.
After all, the people around him were all cunning old foxes.
"Speaking of which, weren't you asleep? Why did you suddenly wake up?" Natsuhiko asked curiously after a moment.
"You didn't even realize you finished your Fire Release training?" the little Nine-Tails sounded puzzled. "Your fire-nature chakra isn't drawing from mine anymore. Don't tell me you really didn't notice?"
"…I didn't," Natsuhiko admitted after a brief pause, deciding honesty was less embarrassing than pretending otherwise. "But what does that have to do with you waking up? Or did you just get enough rest?"
"That's part of it. Getting my chakra back does make me happy," the little Nine-Tails replied, its tone shifting slightly. "But there's another reason I woke up…"
"What reason?"
"I can sense the chakra of that big guy."
…
"Are you sure it's here?"
Late at night, Natsuhiko set out once more. This time, however, he didn't bother wearing a mask.
For him now, going without one was actually far more low-key.
After all, the name "Konoha's Nightingale" had already become famous across the shinobi world—but Natsuhiko of the Senju clan was still, for the most part, an unknown figure.
To elevate a mere codename to that level was already the limit for most ANBU operatives.
And yet, Natsuhiko had achieved it in just six years.
Only six.
"It's here. My senses aren't wrong," the little Nine-Tails' voice echoed in his mind. "It's hidden well, and there isn't much of it—but it's definitely that big guy's chakra."
"Is that so…" Natsuhiko nodded lightly. "Understood. Lead the way. Let's find it."
The moment he learned that the little fox had detected the chakra of Kurama, he had already made up his mind.
He was going to take it.
As for informing Hiruzen Sarutobi—that could wait.
The old man was still in a foul mood, and frankly, Natsuhiko had no interest in dealing with him right now. More importantly, something like the Nine-Tails' chakra… there was no way he'd pass up the chance to secure it first.
Of course, he didn't intend to hide it forever.
Some matters required Hiruzen's cooperation.
But that would come later—after he confirmed the amount of chakra and determined how to extract the greatest possible benefit from it.
They might not like each other. But when it came to shared interests, even enemies could cooperate.
"The only thing that matters now is how much of the Nine-Tails' chakra that man—Kazuma—has managed to collect."
With that thought in mind, Natsuhiko quickened his pace. Before long, he arrived at a dense forest.
Standing before the thick woodland, he couldn't help but frown.
His sensory perception was already fully expanded, yet he still couldn't detect even a trace of the Nine-Tails' chakra.
There was only one explanation.
It had been sealed.
Still… that raised another question.
If the chakra was sealed so thoroughly, how had the little Nine-Tails inside him managed to locate it?
Was it really just like following a scent…?
"You know," the little Nine-Tails' voice suddenly echoed again, laced with irritation, "if I weren't worried about losing, I'd bite you right now."
It let out a long, exasperated sigh.
"That power belongs to me—or rather, the big guy and I resonate with each other. Even if it's sealed, I can still sense it."
"Which is basically the same as following a scent," Natsuhiko replied dismissively, shrugging as he began scanning the surroundings.
"Based on your guidance, it should be nearby… but I don't see any caves around here. Could it be buried underground?"
"Yes."
This time, the little Nine-Tails' voice didn't come from his mind—it sounded right beside his ear.
At the same time, a surge of golden chakra appeared on Natsuhiko's shoulder. It quickly gathered and condensed, forming a small, chibi-like fox head.
"If I'm not mistaken, it should be about twenty meters ahead… beneath that tree."
"I see."
Natsuhiko nodded and began walking forward.
But after only a few steps—
his brows suddenly furrowed.
From within his sensory range, Natsuhiko suddenly detected a presence—someone rapidly closing in on his position.
His brows lifted slightly.
Had his movement here really drawn attention?
Logically, that shouldn't have been the case. Along the way, he had found no traps, no barrier techniques, and he had remained vigilant the entire time, carefully observing whether anyone was watching him.
And yet… he had detected nothing.
If anyone had noticed him, it should have been Hiruzen Sarutobi. But that old man hadn't made a move, and the chakra signature approaching him now clearly didn't belong to Hiruzen.
"Who do you think it could be?" Natsuhiko tilted his head slightly as he continued walking toward the location the little Nine-Tails had indicated.
"How would I know?" the small fox replied, its round head tilting lazily. "But it doesn't feel like much of a threat. Based on your own judgment, that person's chakra isn't particularly strong. You shouldn't have any trouble dealing with them—unless, of course, you plan on overthinking things again."
"You little brat, it's not like I'm always scheming. Even when I do, it's only to make sure it benefits me."
Natsuhiko chuckled, lightly tapping the fox's round head.
"And don't judge someone's strength purely by their chakra. It's just a reference—it doesn't determine everything."
"You know, that sounds like a personal attack," the little Nine-Tails shot back, clearly rolling its eyes. "Are you implying that the big Nine-Tails, with all that chakra, still got beaten by you?"
Natsuhiko blinked innocently, offering no reply—his silence practically an admission.
That only made the little fox more annoyed.
Still, it understood that now wasn't the time to bicker. The approaching chakra was getting closer, and even it could clearly sense it now.
Natsuhiko stopped teasing and shifted his focus back to the tree ahead. With a quick step, he vanished and reappeared beside it.
He crouched down slowly, a kunai appearing in his hand.
His sensory perception had already locked onto the foreign object buried beneath the tree. Though he couldn't detect any chakra fluctuations from it, he remained cautious, carefully probing the ground to avoid any hidden traps.
Bit by bit, he dug.
Disarming several concealed mechanisms along the way, he finally uncovered what lay beneath—
a scroll.
At the same moment, the presence behind him arrived.
Whoever it was had noticed Natsuhiko, yet chose not to reveal themselves immediately. Instead, they observed him in silence, their chakra quietly gathering, preparing for action.
"Looks like I got lucky," Natsuhiko said with a faint nod, glancing at the small fox beside him. "You can head back now. I'll take care of the rest."
"You think I have the time to help you?" the little Nine-Tails snorted dismissively before dissolving back into his body. "Maybe when I've grown stronger. For now, handle your own problems."
"I wasn't expecting your help anyway."
Natsuhiko picked up the scroll and slowly rose to his feet.
Then he turned.
His gaze settled on a large tree not far away, and his voice rang out calmly into the night.
"I was planning to take this and leave quietly… but it seems I'll have to deal with a rat before I go."
As his words fell, he gave his hand a light flick—
and the kunai in his grip began to spin.
In an instant, brilliant blue chakra burst forth along the edge of Natsuhiko's kunai, its sharp, oppressive aura rippling outward like a blade cutting through the air itself.
The next moment, he released it.
Like a flash of lightning, the kunai shot forward—so fast it was almost invisible—and pierced straight through the massive tree ahead.
"Boom!"
The tree stood no chance. Under the force of Natsuhiko's chakra-infused strike, it collapsed instantly, splintering apart as it crashed to the ground.
A figure leapt out from behind it.
He landed somewhat awkwardly, clearly caught off guard, yet the look in his eyes was cold and vicious.
"Who are you?" the man demanded the moment he touched the ground. "How did you find this place?"
"Who I am isn't important," Natsuhiko replied calmly, his gaze steady as he looked at the man before him. "But who you are… now that's interesting."
He had already recognized him.
This man was Kazuma.
"As one of the Daimyō's guardian ninja, you've certainly done something… quite remarkable."
"Kid, I don't care who you are," Kazuma said, his expression tightening as a four-bladed iron claw appeared on his left hand, chakra gathering along its edges. "But I can tell you this—"
"You're dead."
The moment his words fell, he lunged forward.
His speed was impressive.
In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance, his left hand raised high before slashing down toward Natsuhiko's chest. At the same time, blue chakra gathered along the fingers of his right hand.
A sealing technique.
Natsuhiko recognized it instantly—the Five Elements Seal.
"So, you're skilled in sealing techniques too…" Natsuhiko thought to himself, completely unruffled, even finding time to feel a trace of admiration.
Sealing arts were notoriously difficult to master.
No wonder this man would go on to stir up so much trouble in the future—even creating a pseudo-jinchūriki that caused no small amount of chaos in Konoha.
A pity.
He had chosen the wrong side.
And once that line was crossed, there was nothing more worth discussing.
With that thought, Natsuhiko simply shifted his body slightly, effortlessly evading the incoming claw as if it were nothing.
At the same time, he raised his own right hand.
Blue chakra gathered along his fingers as well.
"Thump!"
His palm struck Kazuma's abdomen directly.
In the same instant, his left hand shot forward like lightning, gripping Kazuma's right wrist and stopping him from completing his technique.
"You—!"
Kazuma's eyes widened in shock as he felt the chakra within his body rapidly being sealed away.
He recognized it immediately.
It was the very technique he prided himself on—
the Five Elements Seal.
He had intended to use it on Natsuhiko.
Instead, it had been turned against him.
"Sealing techniques aren't exclusive to you," Natsuhiko said with a gentle smile, his tone as calm as ever. "And the ones you can use… I can use as well."
That warm smile felt utterly out of place against the brutality of the moment.
"I was still considering how to deal with you," he continued softly, "but now it seems you've given me a rather useful excuse… and a convenient handle to work with. In that case—"
"Who are you? What do you want?!"
Feeling his chakra locked down, Kazuma twisted violently, breaking free from Natsuhiko's grip. Without hesitation, he lashed out again with his claw.
Even without chakra, he could still rely on taijutsu.
Though weaker than before, it was all he had left—and he couldn't afford to hesitate.
"Thump!"
It made no difference.
Natsuhiko didn't even bother dodging this time.
Kazuma's speed and strength might have been impressive against others—but against someone like Natsuhiko, who fought with a near-unfair level of control, it simply wasn't enough.
A single punch.
That was all it took.
His fist slammed into Kazuma's abdomen, knocking him off balance.
Yet Kazuma refused to fall. Even as his body wavered, he forced himself forward, stubbornly continuing his attack.
Natsuhiko sighed faintly.
A black kunai appeared in his hand.
In one swift motion, he slashed through the tendons of Kazuma's left arm, instantly robbing it of strength.
Then, with a sharp kick, he sent him crashing to the ground—before driving the kunai straight through his right hand, pinning it firmly in place.
"Weren't you curious about who I am?"
Natsuhiko stepped forward slowly.
His voice remained as gentle as ever—
but to Kazuma, it felt like falling into an endless abyss of ice.
"Allow me to introduce myself."
"I am a shinobi of Konoha's ANBU."
He paused briefly, his gaze calm and unwavering.
"My codename…"
A faint smile curved his lips.
"—is Nightingale."
...
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