Chapter 4: The Hokage's Decree
The green glow from the ANBU's hand faded, leaving a dull ache where searing pain had been. Akatsurugi took a tentative breath; it was easier now. The guard gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod before stepping back into his stoic posture.
"Go on," Maruboshi said quietly, his own exhaustion evident in his voice. "They're waiting."
Pushing aside the tent flap, Akatsurugi entered. The air inside was thick with the scent of ink, old paper, and tension. Several high-ranking shinobi were gathered around a large table strewn with maps, their faces grim. All eyes turned to him—a disheveled, injured child intruding on their war council.
A man with spiky, black hair and keen, intelligent eyes stood at the head of the table. Hiruzen Sarutobi. Even without the iconic Hokage hat, he carried an air of undeniable authority. His gaze was heavy, burdened by the weight of the scroll he had just received and the news it undoubtedly contained.
"You are the one who brought Lord Tobirama's message?" Hiruzen's voice was calm, but it held a gravity that filled the tent.
Akatsurugi bowed his head, the motion respectful. "Yes, sir. He told me to find you. He said... I could find safety in Konoha." He kept his story simple, sticking to the cover of a lucky—or unlucky—civilian survivor.
Hiruzen studied him for a long moment, his eyes seeming to miss nothing. "You have our deepest gratitude. The intelligence you carried was critical." He paused, his gaze shifting to the sealed scroll now resting on the table before him. "Lord Second's final act was to ensure the future of this village. And he entrusted that, in part, to you."
A murmur rippled through the other shinobi. Akatsurugi remained silent, waiting.
"Konoha honors its promises," Hiruzen declared, his voice firm and clear, leaving no room for argument. "You are now under the protection of Konohagakure. You will return with the next supply convoy to the village itself. There, you will be given a place to live and the means to sustain yourself."
A wave of profound relief washed over Akatsurugi, so strong it made his knees feel weak. He had done it. He had a foothold, a sanctuary. "Thank you, Lord Hiruzen," he said, his voice thick with genuine emotion.
Hiruzen offered a small, weary smile. "It is we who thank you. Now, go and rest. You have earned it." He gestured to one of the aides near the tent entrance. "See that he is fed and given a place in the non-combatant sector."
As Akatsurugi was led away, he caught a final glimpse of the war council. Hiruzen's expression had hardened again, his attention returning to the maps. The war was not over, but for Akatsurugi, a new chapter was beginning.
He was guided to a quieter part of the camp, given a bowl of simple stew and a thin bedroll in a tent shared with other displaced civilians. For the first time since arriving in this brutal world, he felt a semblance of safety. The sounds of the camp were a distant hum, not the immediate threat of kunai and explosions.
Lying in the dim light, he clutched the sheathed form of Ryūjin Jakka to his chest. He had the Flame-Flame Fruit's power sleeping within him, and he had this legendary sword. He was a child in a hidden leaf village, on the cusp of its most turbulent years.
He looked at his small hand, concentrating. A single, stubborn wisp of smoke curled from his fingertip, no bigger than before. It was a pathetic spark, a mere ember of the power he coveted.
But it was his ember.
He had the Vault of Worlds in his past and the entirety of the Naruto timeline in his future. He had survived his first day. Tomorrow, the real work would begin.