Chapter 237: A Foolish Teacher's Final Letter
By the time Jiraiya came racing back to Konoha in a panic, three days had already passed since Hiruzen Sarutobi collapsed.
Hiruzen's body was visibly, unmistakably frail.
The old wounds he'd carried since his youth had finally broken loose these past three days, sweeping away the last of his strength.
Now, even opening his eyes was an exhausting effort.
"Old... old man..."
Looking down at the old man in the bed, Jiraiya's towering frame trembled faintly.
But no matter how Jiraiya called out to him now, Hiruzen could no longer answer.
He was tired.
So very tired.
He wanted to rest, just for a little while.
"Where's Sakura... where's Tsunade..."
Jiraiya knelt at Hiruzen's bedside, his voice shaking.
"Sakura just left. Lady Tsunade is at the border with the Land of Rain."
Asuma answered quietly beside him.
"...Why."
"...Why didn't Sakura save the old man."
Silence. No one answered.
Even Asuma stood silent at Jiraiya's side.
Why hadn't she saved him?
Was it that she didn't want to?
Or that she couldn't?
Such is a life — birth, age, sickness, death.
Hiruzen should have died three years ago, in the plot to destroy Konoha. He'd only made it through thanks to Sakura's help.
Even then, he had already been an old man.
And still he'd forced his aging body to preside over Konoha's Fourth Great Ninja War.
Amid the flames of war, he'd taken a Konoha teetering on the edge of ruin from Tobirama Senju's hands, and carried it through the Second War, the Third, the Fourth.
He had watched hero after hero rise, and fall.
He had succeeded. He had failed. He had erred. He had hesitated.
He had not been a great Hokage. But he had not been a poor one, either.
When Orochimaru defected, he had hesitated.
When Tsunade left the village, he had grieved.
When Jiraiya departed, he had sighed.
Minato Namikaze's death was the first time he had ever truly felt lost.
Even facing Tobirama's death, he had never once felt lost.
Back then, still young and full of fire, he had forced himself to grow from a vanguard who knew only how to charge into battle into a statesman — and had steadied a Konoha shaken to its foundations by the death of its Hokage.
He had done it.
Facing the Second Great Ninja War, he poured his heart into training three students, and combined that with his own command of the larger picture, and led Konoha to victory in that long, grinding war.
He had done it again.
When the Third War broke out over the disappearance of the Third Kazekage, he had overruled every objection and thrown his full weight behind a young up-and-comer named Minato Namikaze — and won that war too.
It seemed he had done it once more.
But it was also in that time that he grew distant from Orochimaru, that Tsunade developed her fear of blood, that the toads of Mount Myōboku gave Jiraiya a prophecy that would shape his whole life.
It seemed he had succeeded. But in truth, he had failed.
And then he had backed Minato to become the Fourth Hokage.
That brilliant young man had given him more than he'd ever hoped for.
But heaven is petty, and jealous of genius.
Minato died.
For the first time, Hiruzen felt truly lost — and it was that loss that forced him, facing Kumogakure's scheme for the Byakugan, to finally bow the head he had held high his whole life.
After that, he changed. He grew hesitant, indecisive, always looking over his shoulder.
And it was that hesitation that led him, when the moment came for the Uchiha, to make the worst decision of his life.
He had abstained from the vote.
He had watched, with his own eyes, as Konoha's foremost shinobi clan was wiped out.
Heaven does love to torment a man.
And then, on a day so ordinary it could not have been more ordinary, a little girl with pink hair caught his attention...
—
Hiruzen Sarutobi was dead.
He had died in the courtyard, in the moment the last cherry blossom petal fell from the tree.
But the cherry trees would bloom again next year. He would not.
Sakura had someone see the Iwagakure delegation off, the training methods for the Light and Heavy Rock techniques still in her hand.
But there was not a shred of happiness in her heart.
Once again, she put on that heavy black mourning dress. Once again, she made her way to Konoha's cemetery.
Only this time was different from the last.
This time, the road beside the cemetery was lined with silent people.
The cemetery itself couldn't hold them all, so people stood outside it as well.
Hiruzen had never liked this kind of grand spectacle, but the village had simply posted a single notice, and every villager had come of their own accord to see him off one last time.
The crowd saw the girl in black at the end of the road, and silently made way for her.
"Sis..."
Standing by the road, held by her mother's hand, the little pink-haired girl reached out, wanting her big sister to hold her — but her mother gently pulled her back, shaking her head.
Mirai didn't understand what death was, but seeing the heaviness on everyone's faces around her, she carefully buried her head against her mother's chest.
For the first time, Sakura felt how long this road truly was.
A distance that on any other day would take a single Body Flicker to cross now felt agonizingly difficult to walk.
Carrying the weight of everyone's eyes on her, step by step by step, she made her way to Hiruzen's grave.
Gathered here were shinobi from every great clan in Konoha, and like any ordinary villager, they watched this girl in silence.
Someone's sobbing cut sharply through the crowd.
It was Naruto and Konohamaru.
Naruto had thought that once he learned from Sakura who his parents really were, he might come to resent the old man who had, every month, without fail, given him a generous living allowance and made time to visit him no matter how busy he was.
But he couldn't manage it.
He'd deliberately sulked and avoided visiting Hiruzen out of spite — never imagining that one small fit of pride would cost him the chance to see the old man one last time.
Tears streamed down Naruto's face. He didn't even know what he felt for this old man.
He only knew that right now, he was in pain — pain he couldn't hold back, pain that kept the tears falling.
Sakura looked up at the gravestone, at that familiar, kindly old face.
She bent her knees, lowering herself until they touched the flagstones below — the Yin Seal brushing against stone still damp from the rain two days before.
For the first time, Sakura knelt.
Everyone watched her, uncomprehending.
In this world's customs, there was no kneeling at a burial.
Sakura paid no mind to the strange looks around her. She simply, quietly, bowed three times.
Whatever kind of man Hiruzen Sarutobi had truly been, he had always been the one who guided Sakura down the path of the shinobi — and the strongest support at her back, no matter the circumstances.
"The old man liked things simple. Asuma, send everyone else home."
Sakura spoke, calm.
"Mm."
Asuma, dressed in the same mourning black, nodded silently, and went to have people persuade the villagers to head home.
"Kurenai, you should go too — you're already pregnant."
Sakura turned to Kurenai Yūhi, her belly heavy with child.
Kurenai hesitated a moment, glanced at her husband in the distance directing people to head home, then gave a small nod.
As the crowd gradually dispersed, the cemetery — packed full only moments ago — was left with just Sakura, Naruto, Jiraiya, Asuma, and a handful of others.
"Sakura... Grandpa... Grandpa is really..."
Even now, Naruto couldn't quite believe the kindly old man was truly gone.
"Mm."
The girl nodded.
Faced with that answer, Naruto fell silent, tears still streaming, though his sobbing had finally stopped.
"Everyone go on home. I'm heading back too."
Sakura glanced once at the handful of people still remaining, shook her head, and turned to leave.
"Sakura."
Asuma called out to her.
"This is... a letter. From my father. For you."
Asuma hesitated a moment — after all these years, finally saying the word "father" aloud in front of someone else, for Hiruzen.
Sakura stared blankly at the letter in Asuma's hand.
"He prepared this long ago."
Asuma spoke again.
"I understand."
Sakura took the letter and left that place, so heavy with grief.
—
That night, Sakura sat alone on the rooftop of the Haruno house and opened the letter Hiruzen had left for her.
To be opened by Sakura personally:
Sakura, by the time you're reading this, this old man should already be gone from your side.
But don't let it weigh on you. Don't dwell on it.
Just think of this as a dream — a strange, dazzling dream.
Only now the dream has ended. And everyone still has to keep moving forward.
Don't fear farewells. Don't fear parting.
Lingering over goodbyes, unable to let go — that's not like you, Sakura.
To say goodbye to the past is to walk toward the future.
So long as Sakura believes it, even if this old man is buried in the ground, I can still become a star to guide you.
Though maybe I'm being a little arrogant here — Sakura's always been someone with her own mind. Maybe you don't need this old man's guidance at all.
Even if Konoha's flame goes out, even if Konoha's leaves wither, even if the sun in the sky loses its light and the eternal moon falls to earth — the will in Sakura's heart will not waver, not even a little.
Look forward, Sakura.
Look forward, resolute.
Look forward, and never give up.
You will always be this old man's proudest student.
Don't be afraid. Don't hesitate. Being the strength that carries your student forward — that is the thing a teacher takes the most pride and comfort in.
This old man will always believe in Sakura.
Believe that Sakura can create miracles.
Believe that Sakura can change this world.
This world we live in isn't a good one. Decades of scheming and betrayal have soaked it in blood.
The ordinary, everyday moments we've lived through — those are the most precious things in our hearts.
If I were speaking to anyone else, this old man would say: as a shinobi, you must be ready to sacrifice yourself for your nation, for your village, for your comrades.
Even I, faced with that day, would make that choice without hesitation.
It's a small regret — this old man never got to face that day himself.
But that's what I would say to anyone else.
Sakura, this is what I want to say to you.
Go. Go. Go.
Go and change all of this. Change everything that has stayed rigid and unmoving for a thousand years.
This bloody, brutal world should have changed long ago.
This world shouldn't be like this. Can't be like this. Mustn't be like this.
Go and act with your hands untied!
Even if you fail. Even if the results aren't what you hoped for.
How much worse could it really get than it already is?
How much more broken could it become?
This terrible world — it frightens me. It has always frightened me.
A teacher with no achievements of his own can only pin his hopes on his student.
Don't hesitate. Walk your own path with resolve. Whatever Sakura chooses to do, this old man will support you, always.
Take this cruel world, this bloody world, this world of scheming and strife, this imperfect world — and remake it into the world in Sakura's heart.
Sakura is about to set out on a road destined to be lonely, and cold.
No one to understand you. No one to confide in.
Only you, alone.
Every time I think of it, I can't help but shed a quiet tear.
My student. My child.
If you ever feel lonely, light a fire. Every time the flames dance, that will be this old man, coming to see you.
From a foolish teacher, his final words.
"Old man..."
"You're dead, you're dead, and you still had to go and get sentimental about it..."
The girl murmured to herself, a single line of wetness trailing from the corner of her eye.
She sat there on the rooftop, in the slow night wind, unmoving for a long while.
At some point, she wiped the wetness from her face and lifted her head, looking out into the darkness around her.
"You've been watching this whole time — not coming out?"
The moment she spoke, a figure hidden in the night appeared before her.
Tobirama Senju sat down beside Sakura, his gaze flicking briefly to the letter in her hand.
"What did the old monkey have to say?"
"A bunch of sappy nonsense."
Sakura tucked the letter away inside her robes, clearly with no intention of letting Tobirama read it.
Tobirama didn't press the matter, and changed the subject instead.
"There's a young man at the Research Bureau named Hōsuke Tōno. He's got real talent."
"His idea could change the way shinobi fight."
Sweeping a brief glance over the traces of tears still on the girl's face, Tobirama deliberately steered the conversation elsewhere.
"His idea's based on exploding tags."
"Set jutsu in advance, seal them into a scroll, then pair it with some kind of device that fires the sealed techniques out of the scroll in rapid succession, one after another."
"It's a good idea."
Settling the emotion inside her, gathering herself, Sakura rubbed her face and quickly began working through what he'd said.
"Fine. I'm backing this project."
"Have your Tōno go straight to the Finance Department and get the funding."
That caught Tobirama somewhat off guard.
That decisive?
Well — decisive wasn't quite the word for it.
Hōsuke Tōno. Sakura knew exactly who this man was.
The creator of scientific ninja tools — a background character who'd go on to have his own place in the Boruto era.
Sure, that idiot Naruto would end up banning scientific ninja tools down the line.
But any fool could see this technology had a future.
That bastard's scientific tools wouldn't just store and fire off the Five Elements — they could even discharge the Nara clan's Shadow Possession Technique.
And the Nara clan's Shadow Possession fell squarely under Yin Release.
Which was, frankly, a little absurd.
If Yin Release could be stored and fired like that... what about Yang Release? Or — getting even more absurd — what about a fusion of Yin and Yang Release?
"Enough chatter. Go on, get moving."
"Oh, and — tomorrow, go put Naruto through his training!"
"Don't think you can dig up one talented kid and use it to wriggle out of that."
Sakura shot Tobirama a glare.
"..."
"Understood."
Tobirama looked at her without a word.
Sigh... I really should have listened to my brother back then, instead of messing around with all these forbidden techniques...
(End of chapter)
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