Somewhere in the Land of Tea… in Shinkigakure, the Hidden Mirage Village, a small ceremony was underway. A village once worthy of the Land of Tea's support now barely clung to life.
On the cracked stone plaza, a young man with long white hair and piercing golden eyes stood alone as he was crowned with a black-and-white Kage hat. He raised his fist high… but no one cheered. No one even clapped.
Hiroshi Kizan, sixteen years old, had just become the Third Genkage.
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Shinkigakure was once a modest yet proud hidden village. Its strength had always rested on the Kizan Clan—until a ruthless assault by the Mizuba Bandits wiped them out. Now, Shinkigakure lay in ruin. Poverty and despair clung to its streets.
The Land of Tea had abandoned them. Hiroshi had been appointed Genkage not out of respect or merit, but out of necessity. He was the sole survivor of the Kizan Clan, and no one else dared step forward.
The village was a shadow of its former self. Houses were half-collapsed, and food was scarce. The Ninja Academy still functioned, but it was little more than a skeleton of its former glory. All the powerful ninjutsu scrolls had been stolen, and the village's strongest shinobi had been slaughtered. The students were left to the guidance of a woman who knew only the basics, struggling to teach what little she could.
The village's sole and strongest ninja now was Natsumi Nakashima, a young kunoichi who barely knew some C-rank jutsu. She was supposed to be the academy's instructor, but her spirit had been broken. Her entire family had been killed before her eyes. Her team had perished. Her will to fight… had nearly died with them.
And now, Hiroshi Kizan, barely sixteen, stood as the leader of a ruined village. A boy in the middle of despair, tasked with rebuilding a home that no longer had hope.
The weight of the Genkage title settled on his shoulders like a stone. There were no celebrations. No acclaim. Only silence.
Hiroshi clenched his fist tighter, golden eyes scanning the wreckage before him. The road ahead would be long… and bloody. But he had no choice. He was the Third Genkage. And if Shinkigakure was to rise again, it would rise under him.
...
Hiroshi pushed open the door to his "office."
Calling it that was generous. It was a cramped room with a single desk, and one cracked window. Still… it was the best room available.
"This is what I inherited," he muttered. "A throne made of scraps."
He folded his arms and waited. He had summoned Natsumi Nakashima for an important—perhaps the most important—conversation of his life. If he wanted to rebuild the village, he needed her. He couldn't do it alone.
As the minutes dragged on, Hiroshi let out a tired sigh.
I should have worked harder…
He had barely passed the basics of the academy—not that he even graduated properly. He knew only the most elementary jutsu. And worst of all, he had never awakened the Kyokugan—the dojutsu that had made the Kizan Clan the backbone of the Hidden Mirage Village. He had been the shame of the clan. The lazy one. The dropout. The survivor only because he happened to be away during the massacre.
Now he was Genkage. Because no one else was left.
The door slid open.
Natsumi stepped inside, her presence as muted as the ruined village around them. Short brown hair, dark tired eyes, and the angular "V" of Shinkigakure tied at her forehead. Once, she had been considered promising. Now, she was the strongest ninja left—not because of skill, but because everyone else was dead.
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"You called for me, Genkage-sama?" she said. Her voice held no life. No warmth. Just… emptiness.
"Natsumi-san…" Hiroshi winced. Being addressed formally felt like someone scraping the inside of his skull with a kunai. "I want you to help Mitsuru with the academy."
She stared at him—expressionless—and then simply turned around and walked away.
Not a word. Not even acknowledgement. She only said "Genkage-sama" because the title demanded it. No one respected him. No one saw him as worthy. No one wanted a failure wearing the hat of the village's greatest symbol.
Desperation surged in Hiroshi.
"Wait! Natsumi-san!" he shouted, stepping forward.
She froze but did not turn.
"I know you probably don't have any respect for me," Hiroshi said, voice trembling. "I know I'm not worthy of this title. I know I'm a disgrace to my clan… to this entire village."
Slowly, he clenched his fists.
"But I won't let my home stay like this!"
His voice echoed through the tiny room. Natsumi stiffened.
"Don't you want revenge?!" he shouted. "For the village?! For your team?! For your family?!"
Her hand began to shake. Her knuckles whitened. A tremor ran down her arms.
Hiroshi didn't stop.
"Because I want revenge!" he roared. "I want to tear every single one of those Mizuba Bandits apart! One by one! With my own hands!"
The raw fury in his voice cracked something inside her.
Natsumi turned.
Her black eyes were no longer empty.
She stepped forward and bowed deeply—so suddenly that even Hiroshi flinched.
"Genkage-sama!" she said, her voice finally carrying strength, trembling though it was.
A tear slid down her cheek.
"I… I was a hypocrite," she whispered. "Thinking of abandoning the village in its ruins… pretending I had already accepted everything."
Her shoulders shook as more tears fell. She kept her head lowered.
"Please, Genkage-sama…" Natsumi raised her gaze to meet his golden eyes—eyes that finally looked like those of a leader. "Guide us… guide me… to take our revenge!"
Her voice cracked with desperation, grief… and hope.
To be continued...
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How was this first chapter? Liked it?
I wanted to bring a fresh concept, I don't know if a Kage story like this has already been made by someone else, but I didn't read any so... hope you'll like it.