Faced with Kenya's calm and handsome expression, Tsunade turned her head to the side, unable to meet his gaze. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly.
"You… what the hell are you planning?" she said sharply. "To be honest, I've always suspected that the death of the old man Sarutobi wasn't as simple as it seemed."
Kenya smiled faintly, reading her thoughts as easily as an open book. Taking a step back, he spoke in a relaxed tone.
"Don't worry, Tsunade-senpai. You're my most important ally. I'd never do anything to harm you."
Tsunade exhaled through her nose, lips tightening. She wanted to argue—but found no words.
Because deep down, she knew that if Kenya ever truly meant harm, there was nothing she could do to stop him. The difference in power between them had become too great.
When Kenya finally left, the Hokage's office fell silent. Nearly half an hour later, Shizune cautiously peeked through the door, her steps hesitant.
Seeing the wrecked office, overturned desk, and broken furniture, she swallowed nervously.
"T-Then… Lady Tsunade… are you… alright?"
"Stop babbling!" Tsunade barked, standing abruptly. "Come on, we're going drinking!"
Disturbed by her recent conversation with Kenya—and Danzo's reinstatement—Tsunade's frustration was boiling over.
To her, the emotion that filled her chest now could be summed up in one word: annoyance.
It should have been a joyous thing—taking control of the village her grandfather founded. But now that she was Hokage, she realized the truth: governing a village was far more complicated than she'd ever imagined.
And slowly, she began to understand why Kenya had asked her to take the role three years ago—why he hadn't wanted to sit in this seat himself.
Unable to stop her, Shizune followed reluctantly. "Um, Lady Tsunade… should we invite someone to join us?" she asked softly.
Tsunade paused. "Someone?"
Shizune nodded. "Maybe… Kurenai?"
Tsunade raised an eyebrow. Kurenai… that woman who lost her lover.
After a moment of thought, she sighed. "Fine. Up to you."
----
Nearly ten days later, in the depths of the Ninbu Building—inside the sealed experimental chamber.
The air was thick with smoke and chakra residue.
In the center of the room stood Kenya, calm as ever. In front of him, a masked Root operative knelt on one knee, his breathing labored.
A deep rumble echoed as a strange energy began to ripple across the man's skin, his body trembling violently.
A moment later, steam erupted from his nostrils, ears, and mouth. The temperature in the room spiked.
"Boil Release…" Hanabi murmured, her pale eyes narrowing.
She had heard of this Kekkei Genkai before—Terumi Mei, the Fifth Mizukage, and Han, the former Five-Tails Jinchūriki, both possessed it.
Suigetsu, standing nearby, grimaced as sweat rolled down his forehead, but wisely kept quiet.
Moments later, the chamber door opened. Temari entered, followed closely by Gaara, who had just returned from Sunagakure.
"Lord Kenya," Temari said respectfully, "I've brought Gaara back."
"Thank you, Temari." Kenya smiled slightly. "Since you're here, I take it that everything is stable in the Sand Village?"
"Yes," Temari huffed, crossing her arms. "Once the village elders realized no one was after our Jinchūriki anymore, they finally shut their mouths. Still infuriating to look at them, though."
Kenya chuckled. "Then let's not waste time. Gaara… I'll grant you new strength."
Gaara nodded silently and stepped forward, his expression calm.
Temari had already told him about the ritual—the dangers, the pain, and the potential for failure. But still, he didn't hesitate.
He knelt on one knee before Kenya. "I'm ready."
Temari bit her lip. "Teacher Kenya," she said nervously, "what's Gaara's success rate?"
She couldn't hide her fear. She had seen the failed ones before—their bodies breaking apart, their lives ending in agony.
Back then, she had accepted the risk only because she refused to be left behind while others—like Suigetsu and Hōzuki Mangetsu—grew stronger.
She had been lucky. She'd survived.
But would Gaara be as fortunate?
Kenya lowered his hand, his expression calm. "Nothing in this world is absolute, Temari. Even I can't predict how the Hōgyoku's power will evolve."
He paused, then added softly, "But if Gaara wants to back out, I'll respect that choice."
Gaara looked up at him, his blue-green eyes unwavering. "No need. I've made my decision."
Kenya's smile returned. "Good."
He pressed his palm gently against Gaara's forehead.
A faint glow of violet light began to spread from his hand, slowly enveloping Gaara's body. The chakra in the room thickened, humming with violent energy.
Temari clenched her fists, holding her breath as wind currents stirred around them. Suigetsu instinctively took a step back.
The temperature dropped suddenly.
Gaara's eyes widened as the Hōgyoku's power invaded his body. His sand armor cracked, peeling away as new energy surged from within.
The crimson markings of Shukaku flickered faintly across his skin before dissolving into pure, golden light.
Then—silence.
The oppressive energy vanished in an instant.
Gaara knelt motionless, his breathing calm. Slowly, he opened his eyes.
A ripple of golden sand coiled around him like a living creature—stronger, purer, more refined than before.
Temari exhaled shakily, relief washing over her.
Kenya withdrew his hand, smiling faintly. "Congratulations, Gaara. You've succeeded."
Gaara lowered his head. "Thank you… Teacher."
As he stood, the air around him pulsed faintly with divine energy—neither that of a Jinchūriki nor a beast, but something beyond.
Kenya turned away, his tone light. "Kamui's Nemesis… another step forward."
The others looked at him in confusion, but none dared ask.
Only Kenya knew.
This was just the beginning.
Soon, even the power of the Sharingan's Kamui would have a natural enemy.
And that enemy was now standing quietly before him—Gaara of the Sand, reborn in golden light.