It was a noon in February, and the weather in Konoha was not hot.
The Land of Fire Daimyo's convoy, like a golden dragon, snaked along the road leading to the village.
At the very front were thirty mbers of the honor guard, riding pure white warhorses, clad in red battle robes embroidered with fla crests, their katana glinting coldly in the morning light.
A Chunin on the watchtower shouted loudly, "The Land of Fire Daimyo has arrived!"
Fugaku adjusted the collar of his Hokage robe, his gaze sweeping over the vast procession ahead.
Three hundred guards were divided into three formations. The outermost were heavily armored samurai, the middle consisted of archers, and the inner circle was made up of thirty-two masked ninjas.
Over two hundred servants moved among them, so carrying food boxes, so carrying palanquins, and more than a dozen were specifically responsible for scattering flower petals to clear the way.
Shun whispered, "This display... It looks like a rich upstart."
Fugaku's Sharingan subtly shifted, locking onto the hunched figure wearing a monkey mask among the many people. That person walked to the right of the Daimyo's palanquin, his seemingly humble posture unable to conceal a familiar Chakra fluctuation.
"Play the music!"
At the command of the official, twenty-four musicians simultaneously blew their golden horns.
The gilded palanquin carrying the Daimyo slowly stopped in front of the welcoming party, and sixteen maidservants imdiately stepped forward to pull open the curtains embroidered with golden phoenixes.
"Welco, Your Excellency, the Daimyo!"
Fugaku led the Konoha high-ranking officials in a slight bow, his peripheral vision catching the masked person looking up at the Hokage Rock, at the spot where the Third Hokage's statue once stood, now only an ugly pit remained.
"Rise."
The Daimyo lazily waved his peacock feather fan, the gems embedded in the fan's ribs reflecting dazzling light.
"Fugaku, I heard you imprisoned my newly recruited Guard Captain?"
Fugaku maintained a polite smile and said, "Asuma is suspected of assaulting a Land of Fire noble, and the evidence is conclusive."
The Daimyo suddenly closed his feather fan and gently tapped the masked person beside him with its tip. "The child is ignorant, how about releasing him for my sake?"
A flicker of light passed through Fugaku's eyes, but it quickly returned to calm. "Since it is Your Excellency the Daimyo's wish, I will inform the Military Police Force to release him."
...
Inside the Hokage Office, the afterglow of the setting sun stread through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the entire room crimson.
Fugaku's fingertips tapped rhythmically on the desk, each soft sound like an alarm bell.
The figure wearing the monkey mask stood by the window, the setting sun casting his hunched shadow long, perfectly covering the scratched photo of the Third Hokage on the wall.
The na "Sarutobi Hiruzen" on the photo had been savagely scratched out with a kunai, leaving only hideous marks.
Fugaku seed to mock, "Do you know how the hole on the Hokage Rock ca to be? It wasn't made with Ninjutsu, the villagers themselves chiseled it, hamr by hamr. They said they did that..."
He slowly raised his head, his Three-Tomoe Sharingan looking directly at the mask. "Because they didn't want to see the thief's face again."
The masked person's breathing clearly hitched. A hand covered in age spots trembled as it rose, slowly removing the monkey mask. What was revealed was a face full of wrinkles.
Hiruzen, the forr Hokage, now looked more than ten years older than when he had left Konoha.
Hiruzen was only fifty-five years old now, and when he left Konoha, he still had black hair. Only a little over a month had passed, yet all of his hair was now white, and his once upright posture had beco hunched. Only his eyes still retained their forr sharpness.
Hiruzen placed a scroll on the desk, his emaciated fingers leaving sweat stains on the scroll. "These 30 million ryo are Asuma's apology."
Fugaku sneered, not touching the scroll. "Using money stolen from Konoha?"
Hiruzen's voice was terribly hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken properly in a long ti. "This is my salary. My salary as an instructor at the Daimyo's Mansion."
His sunken eyes swept over every corner of the office, finally stopping on the scratched photo on the wall. "Currently, this is all I have."
...
At the Military Police Force training ground, Inaho fiercely plunged the kunai in his hand into a target labeled "Hiruzen".
He gritted his teeth and said, "Salary delayed again! It's all those parasites' fault, they've run off with all our money."
Tekka looked around warily and said, "Keep your voice down, the current Hokage is our clan head, Fugaku-sama."
The older Yakumi lowered his voice and said, "I heard that even the Anbu's salaries were paid by Fugaku-sama out of his own pocket."
Inaho irritably ran his hand through his hair. "Then what do we do? My wife is about to give birth."
"Go ask Departnt Chief Shun for a loan. I heard he's very rich."
Their conversation abruptly stopped. Shun, at so unknown point, had already stood at the edge of the training ground, his scarlet Sharingan quietly watching them.
The young Uchiha clansn imdiately gathered around him, complaining vociferously, "Departnt Chief Shun, lend two hundred thousand ryo. I can barely pay the rent."
"My father is sick and needs dicine."
"It's all that damned Hiruzen's fault!"
Shun's gaze swept over each anxious face. "Didn't you all receive a large bonus after the war ended? Did you spend it all so quickly?"
The crowd imdiately fell silent.
Most of them lowered their heads, not daring to et his gaze, and the air was filled with awkwardness and sha.
Tekka's eyes darted around, then he leaned in and whispered, "Shun, about that, is there any inside information about the competition? Could you share a little? I haven't placed my bet yet."
Shun didn't answer, but slowly pulled out a betting slip and unfolded it in front of everyone.
The amount on it made everyone gasp.
"Bet on Shun to win, 200 million ryo."
Shun's voice suddenly turned cold. "How many of you bet on Jiraiya?"
Seven or eight young Uchiha clansn lowered their heads in sha.
So of their voices were tearful. "We were wrong. We shouldn't have believed that lecherous sage could win."
Inaho furiously kicked over a training dummy. "Traitors! Is the Uchiha's honor less important than money?! Do you deserve Departnt Chief Shun's trust?"
The training ground was silent, with only heavy breathing rising and falling.
Shun put away the betting slip, and before turning to leave, he left a single word. "Fools!"
As the sun set, it cast long shadows of everyone on the training ground, like the lingering greed and regret that couldn't be shaken off.
User Comments
0 comments from readers