Chapter 135 - Orochimaru, the Fourth Hokage
Konohagakure.
The Hatake Residence.
At this moment, Kazane was arranging living quarters for his newly acquired subordinate—Jiriku.
Just yesterday, shortly after Kazane accepted Jiriku as his subordinate, Orochimaru had emerged from the conference room accompanied by Sarutobi Hiruzen and the others.
The feudal lord of the Land of Fire, ultimately too cowardly, didn't even give Orochimaru the chance to use a genjutsu seal. The moment he laid eyes on Orochimaru, he immediately signed the Hokage appointment scroll.
With their objective complete—and with Kazane unexpectedly gaining a new follower—they had no desire to remain in the capital any longer.
Thus, that very afternoon, they returned to Konoha.
Upon their return, Hiruzen publicly announced the date of Orochimaru's inauguration ceremony. The event was scheduled for the morning, three days hence.
The entire village quickly buzzed with activity, preparing for the upcoming ceremony.
"This'll be your room from now on, Jiriku. Starting tomorrow, you'll get up at 4 a.m. to train. At 6, you'll go out to buy breakfast. The rest of the time, you'll just stick with me."
Kazane found an empty room and arranged for Jiriku to stay in it. He then laid out the daily schedule for him in a matter-of-fact tone.
Meanwhile, he couldn't help imagining a satisfying scene in his mind: If someone tried to challenge him in the future, he could send Jiriku to unleash the Welcoming Thousand Hands Kill. Then, standing over the fallen challenger, Kazane would smirk and say:
"You can't even beat my underling. What makes you think you're qualified to challenge me?"
A faint smile tugged at Kazane's lips. After all, he finally had a bodyguard now.
Jiriku, however, felt a weight settle over him. He grumbled inwardly, Even the work mule in the village production team didn't have it this bad…
Even though he'd grown up in a temple, he could count on one hand how many times he'd seen the sun rise at 4 a.m.—and now he was expected to wake at that ungodly hour every single day?
Still, when he looked at Kazane's silhouette, Jiriku dared not say a word. He could only silently hope that Kazane might someday let him return to the temple.
I'm just a humble monk—ringing bells and offering incense suits me just fine. I'm not cut out to receive the 'honor' of being trained by the strongest shinobi in the world.
Of course, these words would never pass his lips. Instead, he made a firm vow in his heart:
If I ever escape Kazane's clutches, I swear I'll never step foot in Konoha again.
—That night, Kakashi returned.
Kazane introduced his new follower to him. After hearing the full story, Kakashi gave Jiriku a sympathetic look.
From what Kakashi knew of Kazane, the boy's most notable trait was his persistence.
If Jiriku was hoping Kazane would one day voluntarily let him go, he might have to wait until Kazane's dying breath.
And if Jiriku dared to rebel...
Better not. Don't seek death.
---
The Next Morning.
Early dawn.
Bang! Bang!
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Clang! Clang!
Still fast asleep, Jiriku was soon jolted awake by the racket outside. Groggy, he rubbed his eyes.
Looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings, he finally remembered—he wasn't in the Fire Daimyō's residence anymore.
"Crap! I overslept! That devil… he's still in the house!!"
Rubbing his dazed head, Jiriku's mind snapped awake. He hastily got dressed and sprinted out of the room.
The moment he stepped outside, he saw Kazane and Kakashi training intensely in the courtyard.
Kazane was swinging a massive dumbbell—taller and wider than himself—through the air with brute force. The wind howled around it, slicing the air with a heavy whoosh each time it moved.
Kakashi, meanwhile, was furiously striking a solid iron target with a wooden blade, over and over. Each strike rang out with resounding thuds and clangs.
Jiriku stood frozen, stunned by the scene before him. Only now did he truly understand why Kazane was so powerful at such a young age.
It wasn't just talent—it was the unrelenting, day-in-day-out effort.
And effort, Jiriku realized, was a form of talent too—arguably the most important one.
He also noticed something else: Given his own abilities, he might not even be a match for Kakashi, who stood beside Kazane.
Each time Kakashi's chakra-infused short sword struck the iron dummy, it left a deep indentation.
Just from the sound alone, Jiriku could tell—the dummy was solid metal.
If that blade can cut into iron like that… imagine what it'd do to flesh and bone… No amount of muscle could block that!
"These two… what kind of monsters are they? Are all Konoha shinobi this terrifying?"
Jiriku couldn't help but wonder.
It wasn't entirely his fault—Kakashi's youthful appearance was deceiving. With a small frame and a face that looked no older than ten, he didn't seem intimidating at all. He wasn't even as tall as Kazane's blade.
And if Kazane was a once-in-a-century genius, surely there wouldn't be two of them appearing at the same time—both in the Hatake household?
Kazane, noticing Jiriku standing there, shouted:
"Monk! Hurry up and start training!"
He didn't want his new subordinate to be too weak, so he planned to observe Jiriku's current training style—then tailor a regimen just for him.
"I'm not a monk, my name's Jiriku…! Coming, coming!"
Jiriku muttered under his breath, disgruntled. But under Kazane's increasingly impatient gaze, he plastered on a smile and ran over enthusiastically.
Time passed swiftly during training—at least for Kazane and Kakashi. After they finished, Kazane wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel, then looked at Jiriku—who was sprawled on the ground like a dead dog.
"Looks like breakfast is off the table."
Kazane shook his head at Jiriku with a sigh. He hadn't expected his body to be this weak.
No wonder he's still a Jōnin fifteen years later, when he runs into Kakuzu and Hidan…
You can't beat anyone with a body like that.
Even Naruto, the so-called child of prophecy, was beaten black and blue into strength.
If you can't even survive a fight, what good's a cheat code?
After resting briefly, Kazane and Kakashi changed clothes. As they passed through the courtyard, Kazane nudged the still-paralyzed Jiriku and said as he walked off:
"Let's go, monk. Time for breakfast."
Jiriku, lying on the ground, thought back on his morning of suffering and finally forced himself to stand and follow.
After all, the only thing he had on him was his simple monk's robe—and no pockets for money.
Back when he was in the Daimyō's residence, food and drink were never a concern. Any money given to him was sent back to the Fire Temple.
But now, after that hellish morning workout, his stomach was growling and he didn't have a single coin to his name. If he missed this meal, who knew when he'd eat again?
As he followed Kazane down the village streets, Jiriku noticed the peaceful smiles on the villagers' faces.
Every person who saw Kazane greeted him warmly, and from time to time, kids dressed like Kazane would run past them.
The harmony and security in Konoha was unlike anything Jiriku had ever seen.
To him, it was like a paradise out of a dream.
Later, Kazane and Kakashi brought Jiriku to the ANBU base for a free breakfast, then led him to the rear mountains.
What followed was another round of intense training—so brutal it exceeded anything Jiriku could have imagined.
He now fully understood how Kazane became so powerful. This training doesn't even treat you like a human… no wonder he's the strongest in the ninja world.
By noon, Kazane was dragging Jiriku's limp body to the Hokage Rock.
Standing at the village's highest point, they looked down at the villagers below—faces full of joy.
On scaffolding, a worker steadily carved Orochimaru's face into the cliffside.
"You see that?" Kazane said softly, pointing toward the sculptor.
"These are Konoha's villagers. They're simple, kind… easily satisfied."
"That's why my teacher and I have always fought to protect their smiles."
Kazane didn't wait for a reply. He simply turned his gaze toward the bustling village and stared into the distance, unmoving.
No one knew what he was thinking.
Jiriku, looking at the joyful villagers and reflecting on the morning's events, finally began to understand the meaning behind Kazane's words.
---
Senju Clan Compound.
Shizune was cleaning up the countless liquor bottles strewn across the room.
Tsunade lay on the couch, bottle in hand, chest heaving and face flushed from alcohol.
"Lady Tsunade, please stop drinking! Orochimaru-sama's inauguration is tomorrow!"
Seeing Tsunade raise the bottle again, Shizune rushed over and pleaded with her drunken mentor.
"I'm not drunk, not drunk at all…"
Tsunade slurred, eyes half-lidded, then grumbled incoherently. Her grip loosened, the bottle slipped from her hand, and she drifted into a deep sleep.
Even so, Shizune could faintly hear her muttering:
"Nawaki… Dan… Kazane… Orochimaru… Hokage…"
"Lady Tsunade…"
Shizune shook her head helplessly. She fetched a blanket, gently draped it over her, and continued tidying the room.