Dinner was warm and lively.
After throwing up several times, Guy had finally grown somewhat used to the sheer terror that came with eating Kushina's cooking. The cheerful atmosphere in the Fourth Hokage's home remained as bright as ever.
Meanwhile, not far away in the Hokage Building, Minato Namikaze looked in surprise at the elderly man standing before him—Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage of Konoha.
He had come just as Minato was finishing his work for the day and preparing to head home.
This time, however, the old man didn't make Minato feel awkward. And the words he spoke carried an unexpected weight.
"I haven't contributed much to Konoha in recent years."
"This time, I want to help protect the village."
He didn't light his pipe—just held it quietly in his hand, standing there as he watched Minato.
This was the Hokage he had once chosen and guided himself.
In the end, he had come, his eyes calm but resolute as he spoke his mind.
"When the previous Nine-Tails jinchūriki, Lady Mito Uzumaki, gave birth, the seal on the Nine-Tails weakened to its limit."
"That time, the beast nearly broke free and caused a catastrophe."
His gaze softened, filled with memory as he went on.
"So, Minato, this time I want to take part in the village's defense. I may be old, but that's no reason to abandon my duty to protect Konoha."
"Will you allow it?"
There was a faint trace of pleading in his tone.
Completely different from the Third Hokage Minato had once known—the decisive, authoritative man who never asked anyone's permission.
What had changed this old man so much?
Minato's sharp instincts told him something was about to happen.
"Lord Third…"
He frowned, wanting to ask, but Hiruzen simply shook his head.
"Don't ask. I don't know either. Call it instinct or whatever you like. I just want to spend what remains of my life doing something meaningful. To show that young man who looks down on me that the Third Hokage wasn't entirely useless."
"After all, the inscription for the Will of Fire—that was written by me."
Turning toward the door, Hiruzen's figure wasn't tall, but it carried a certain unshakable dignity.
"This old man… is Konoha's Third Hokage!"
The door closed behind him.
Only Minato remained in the office, standing silently by his desk. After a few moments, the Yellow Flash let out a small smile.
"That young man he mentioned… could only be Hakken."
But still...
"Lord Third, you've changed too."
...
The dim candle flickered faintly.
Konoha, in a secluded room on the outskirts of the village.
Space rippled, and from within the swirling vortex, a figure slowly emerged.
The old man seated in the center of the room seemed used to such occurrences. He merely lifted his head slightly to glance at the newcomer.
The masked man before him called himself Madara Uchiha.
Though this wasn't their first meeting, Danzō still couldn't bring himself to respect that name.
Madara Uchiha? That man would never hide himself in the shadows.
"It's almost done."
A hoarse, grim voice came from beneath the mask.
He mimicked Madara's tone well—Obito Uchiha, inheritor of Madara's will, until the day his mask would be torn away and his own world revealed.
"I'm curious," Danzō murmured, narrowing his eyes as if trying to read something deeper in the lone Sharingan peering through the mask. "How did you persuade them?"
"The Two-Tails and the Nine-Tails. And what Konoha obtained before."
Obito's tone was casual, but Danzō caught the faint trace of mockery beneath it.
It seemed that manipulating others—and succeeding—gave him a deep sense of satisfaction.
Yes.
Only those two things truly mattered. Outsiders imagined far too much. But unfortunately for them, they would never get their hands on them.
The mockery in Obito's eye deepened.
Even this old man before him—Danzō Shimura, who schemed to become the next Hokage—was nothing more than another pawn in his game. Otherwise, he would never have sought him out.
In plans like these, the inside man's role was crucial.
"I need a specific date."
After a long silence, Obito took a deep breath and spoke again.
"October tenth."
Danzō's chest rose and fell slightly, his eyes gleaming.
"Very well. After that day, you will be Konoha's Fifth Hokage."
The spatial vortex surged again, swallowing Obito's figure into the darkness.
The Fifth Hokage.
At last, the ambition and hunger burning in Danzō's eyes could no longer be contained.
Rising from his seat, he left the room and walked through the quiet Konoha streets until he reached the end. His gaze traveled from the ground up to the stone faces of the Hokage Rock.
His hand lifted slightly, then clenched tightly into a fist.
After a long pause to calm himself, Danzō turned toward the entrance of his Root Division.
Root.
It was his organization.
Disbanding it was out of the question. He had countless ways to make those who thrived in the shadows sink even deeper into them.
The base was as cold and silent as ever, appearing abandoned to the untrained eye.
In truth, Danzō had long since grown used to observing and controlling Konoha's every move from the confines of this underground world.
But now, two stools sat before the entrance. Between them, a small table with a shogi board already set up.
"I've been waiting a long time for you, Danzō."
Sitting on one of the stools, smoking his pipe, Hiruzen wore a faint smile.
"You shouldn't be here. You should be at home drinking tea, or by the river fishing—that's the life you should be living."
"And I won't waste time sitting here playing shogi with you. You should understand that, Hiruzen."
Danzō frowned and didn't sit down.
"Then I'll command you once more, as the Third Hokage."
The smile faded from Hiruzen's face.
He tapped the ashes from his pipe, then met Danzō's eyes with quiet determination.
"From this moment until Kushina's childbirth is over…"
"You're not to go anywhere."
"This is an order from me—Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage of Konoha."
You're not to go anywhere.
An order from the Hokage.
From the moment Danzō left his house until now, Hiruzen had run through countless possibilities in his mind.
He had asked himself—if Danzō still desired the Hokage's seat, then his next move would surely be reckless.
That wasn't for Konoha. It was for his own dream.
Protecting the village was never meant to be done this way.
So now, Hiruzen had come.
In his own way, he would stop his old comrade from stepping off the edge.
To Hiruzen, he wasn't restraining Danzō—he was saving him. Saving the friend who had fought beside him since the First Shinobi World War.
No matter what Danzō thought, this time, Hiruzen would not back down.
"Hiruzen, you're no longer the Hokage."
Weighed down all his life by the shadow of that title, Danzō had long grown to despise those words.
Whenever they argued, whenever the debate reached its peak, Hiruzen would invoke his authority as Hokage.
Even now, Danzō's voice was cold and defiant—but in the end, he sat across from Hiruzen.
There was only one reason.
For a brief moment, he sensed something different about him.
Hiruzen had changed.
If he refused, Hiruzen might truly turn against him.
He might even expose Danzō's potential threat to the public.
He couldn't take that risk.
The fierce game of shogi had begun.