Chapter 201 — A New Beginning
As the winter of Konoha's forty-seventh year slowly faded, the snow drifting from the heavens also ceased. With spring's arrival, the village stepped into its forty-eighth year.
Looking back, the forty-seventh year had been a turbulent one—
not only for Konoha, but for the entire shinobi world.
And among all who profited from that year of war and upheaval, perhaps no one gained more than Uchiha Kei, the man moving silently in the village's shadows.
In that single year, at the height of the war, Kei had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan. His strength in every aspect had advanced dramatically.
Within the village, he had ensured that the new Fourth Hokage believed his rise was possible only because of Kei and his allies.
Within the clan, Kei had taken effective control of the Police Force and personally eliminated the hardline elders who opposed him.
In every sense, Uchiha Kei's gains had been immense.
His power had grown. His voice carried more weight both inside the clan and within the village.
True, he had acquired certain allies he wasn't overly fond of. But for now, they had proved reliable enough, and he accepted them.
The only true setback was his research, which progressed haltingly. But considering it had only just begun, he could afford patience. There was still time.
Meanwhile, Konoha had chosen its Fourth Hokage. Although the leadership had tried to keep the news quiet, word inevitably leaked. Eventually, the higher-ups abandoned secrecy, knowing most clans had already learned the truth.
Soon the news spread across the shinobi world. The other great villages reacted in different ways, but one fact was clear:
aside from Iwagakure, all the major hidden villages had entered a new generation of Kage.
Ōnoki, the aged Tsuchikage, had no successor he deemed worthy. His son, Kitsuchi, had once shown promise. Ōnoki had even planned to teach him Dust Release after the war.
But fate intervened: Kitsuchi lost his right arm in the conflict and suffered psychological scars from a genjutsu wound that could never heal. Disappointed, Ōnoki set those plans aside.
And so, despite his old age, the Tsuchikage clung to his seat. Dust Release's unique nature meant his combat ability remained formidable, leaving him in no rush to pass the torch.
---
In Konoha, Minato Namikaze secured the title of Fourth Hokage by majority support and with the backing of his teacher.
His rival, Orochimaru, said little in defeat. Perhaps he had long anticipated this outcome. To him, the title was a prize worth taking, but not worth grieving over if lost. His ambitions no longer tied him to Konoha's future.
For him, the path forward lay elsewhere.
It was precisely this cold indifference, along with his growing distance from the village and the ongoing disappearance incidents, that led Hiruzen Sarutobi to his final choice. Minato was his successor.
---
Spring of the forty-eighth year arrived quietly. For many, it felt like a year worth celebrating.
Hiruzen Sarutobi—now the former Hokage—hosted a grand spring festival, marking the end of his decades-long tenure with dignity. He became the first Hokage to retire while still alive.
To the people, it was a sign that Konoha had finally broken free of the cycle of endless war. Under Minato's leadership, the village would surely rise to new heights.
That night, the village blazed with lanterns and fireworks.
Even Kei, who had little interest in such celebrations, allowed himself to be dragged out by Imai Kenta. He, in turn, brought along Hyūga Ayaka.
For the three of them, this year was worth remembering. The war had shaped them, bound them together in reluctant cooperation despite their rivalries and grievances. On this night, partnership—and perhaps even gratitude—drew them together.
Ayaka, who had no wish to mingle with the Hyūga main family, preferred the company of Kei and Kenta. At least among them, there was a sense of equality.
Konoha was alive with joy, laughter, and the colors of renewal. Yet in the midst of celebration, joy was never universal.
---
On the towering cliff of the Hokage Monument, a lone figure appeared.
From behind a swirling orange mask, scarlet Sharingan eyes glared coldly down at the jubilant village.
"Sensei… Minato."
His voice was low, bitter. To him, the laughter and fireworks below felt like mockery. A fire smoldered in his chest, a rage he could not release.
"This false village… this rotten world. Sensei, you've achieved your dream, became Hokage. But the world remains twisted. And so— I'll prepare a gift for you. A grand one. I hope you'll be able to receive it."
As he spoke, his remaining Sharingan tomoe spun slowly, and with a ripple in space, his form vanished.
---
In the village, fireworks painted the night sky. Konoha roared with celebration.
Yet far from the festivities, in the silence of the cemetery, stood Kakashi Hatake.
He set a white lily gently before the graves. Alone in the cold night, he looked up at the dazzling fireworks, then down at the still, lifeless stones.
"Obito, Rin… yesterday, sensei was chosen as Hokage. Tonight is the New Year festival, year forty-eight. Happy New Year."
His voice was soft, tinged with sorrow, as if speaking to dear friends still at his side. He spoke slowly, as though truly confiding in them—about Minato's succession, about his tenuous ties with Uchiha Kei, even trivial matters like a villager's missing cat.
The monologue stretched on for nearly an hour, until the distant fireworks faded. Only then did he rise to leave.
"Obito, Rin… take care. I've already told you last time, but I'll say it again—I'm part of the Anbu now. And with Minato-sensei as Hokage, I serve directly under him.
It was Kei's suggestion, that through this I might mend my scars. But… he doesn't know what I truly think.
If I should fall one day, maybe it wouldn't be so bad… to see you both again."
He smiled faintly, though no one was there to see. "I hope Kei never learns of this."
---
Not long after Kakashi left, another figure appeared, cloaked in black, standing silently before the graves.
On the gravestone rested a photo—an old, familiar image of a girl smiling brightly, just as she had in life.
But within the grave there was no body.
When Kakashi had awoken that day, all he saw was roaring fire.
Knowing Uchiha Kei's usual methods, he assumed Kei had burned Rin's body.
Of course, it was also possible her remains had simply been consumed in the chaos of battle.
So this grave held only her clothes and a few personal belongings—a cenotaph rather than a true resting place.
Beside Rin's memorial stood another: the grave of Obito himself.
Before both markers lay fresh bouquets of white lilies, placed there not long ago by Kakashi.
Through the slits of his mask, Uchiha Obito stood in silence, gazing at the scene.
Without a word, he seized the lilies before Rin's stone and scattered them into the wind.
Then, drawing a new bundle of lilies from his cloak, he carefully laid them in their place—still refusing to utter even a single word.
The night deepened, each moment dragging colder than the last.
Winter's chill gnawed at the air, sharper still among the gravestones.
The icy wind rattled his cloak, but Obito remained unmoving, a silent sentinel before Rin's memorial.
Hours passed. Still he said nothing.
Perhaps… he did not even know what words could be spoken.
Only when the first faint light of dawn touched the horizon did he finally exhale a long, weary sigh.
His form rippled and faded into space, leaving only a whisper behind:
"Rin… wait for me."
---
Deep within a cavern somewhere in the Land of Fire, space twisted once more and Obito emerged from the void.
"Zetsu," he called immediately.
From the ground, White Zetsu's true body sprouted up with a grin.
"Obito, you're back. How did it go?"
Obito gave a slight nod, his tone calm but flat.
"Minato Namikaze has succeeded as the Fourth Hokage. Konoha celebrates, full of laughter and song. Nothing worth speaking of."
He seated himself against the cold stone wall, then changed the subject with a sharper edge to his voice.
"Now—what of the Nine-Tails? I need everything. The host, their strength, every detail you can gather."
White Zetsu responded without hesitation.
"The jinchūriki? That much isn't hard to guess—it's your former teacher's wife, Kushina Uzumaki."
Then, raising a brow, he asked, "Obito… don't tell me you're planning—?"
"Hmph." Obito's voice dripped with disdain.
"Of course. It's time to set the plan in motion. Nagato is already with us, and the Demonic Statue has been summoned. Most of the conditions are in place.
So why not start with the strongest of them all—the Nine-Tails?
I'll investigate thoroughly. And then I'll drag that beast out into the open… let it rampage as it should."
As he spoke, he turned back toward Zetsu, his eyes gleaming through the mask.
The scarlet tomoe of his Sharingan spun slowly—three hooked blades, eerie and demonic—cold as unyielding ice.