[NTU] [ARC-25] Chapter : 327

As the first golden ray of sunlight pierced through the morning mist and kissed the earth, a new day quietly unfolded.

The sky stretched overhead, vast and cerulean, like a polished sapphire. Wisps of white clouds drifted lazily across its surface, and the morning sun bathed the land in a gentle, warming light. It brushed against faces like a soft whisper, neither harsh nor cold.

Leaves at the treetops danced in the breeze, tender and fresh with spring’s energy. Dewdrops nestled among blades of grass sparkled under the sun’s gaze, glittering like scattered diamonds.

Atop the cliff where Toshiro’s face was etched into the stone—the monument of the Fifth Hokage—a lone figure sat cross-legged in silent meditation. It was the Hokage himself.

"Not long now..."

Toshiro murmured, eyes focused on his open palm. A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

In his hand, chakra shifted like liquid—first condensing into a searing sphere of molten lava, then morphing into a translucent shard of ice. In the next breath, it transformed again—this time into a caustic orb radiating the sharp tang of acid.

Years of relentless discipline—meditating every dawn, training through shadow clones—had allowed him to master fine control over all five basic chakra natures. And when fused with the prowess of his dojutsu, he had successfully awakened several powerful kekkei genkai.

"Once I master Yang Release... the last piece will be in place."

He gently touched the corners of his eyes, a flicker of yearning breaking through his usual calm.

With Yin Release already under his command thanks to the Eternal Mangekyō, Yang Release remained his only weak point. But the research Orochimaru had recently shared with him—comprehensive, dangerous, and deeply forbidden—offered the key to completing his understanding.

His current physical evolution made the timing perfect. Soon, he would unlock Yang Release in full.

"Maybe... just maybe, I’m finally worthy of this title—Hokage."

His gaze shifted down to the village below, where the early risers were already bustling about. His eyes softened.

In recent years, Konoha had thrived. Trade routes expanded. Missions were plentiful. The village economy was booming—and with it, the quality of life for its citizens had improved dramatically. Ninja work paid well now. And with money came luxury, development, and... indulgence.

"Perhaps... it’s grown too prosperous."

Toshiro’s sharp gaze settled on Pleasure Street—an area infamous for its... liberating atmosphere. His expression twitched in mild annoyance.

The truth was simple: the more something was restricted, the more people sought it out.

For overburdened shinobi returning from dangerous missions, such places became emotional pressure valves. Toshiro had tried to regulate them—but an outright ban? Unrealistic. And perhaps, unnecessary.

Still...

"I’ll need Fugaku to investigate. Make sure there’s no human trafficking going on behind the scenes."

He wasn’t aiming to play saint. Consensual activity among adults was one thing—but there were darker undercurrents he could not tolerate.

He knew the signs too well: victims forced into the industry by poverty, coercion, drugs, threats, and manipulation. Behind the glittering veil of desire often hid a network of exploitation.

Back in the Hokage's office, Toshiro scanned the intelligence report on his desk, his brows knitting tightly.

"You’re telling me Sasuke went to Orochimaru... willingly?"

Kakashi stood across from him, gaze lowered, voice heavy with guilt.

"I'm sorry. As his sensei... I failed him."

Toshiro rubbed his temples with a sigh.

"Do Fugaku and Itachi know?"

"Not yet," Kakashi replied. "Sakura was the first to find out. We haven’t informed his family."

Toshiro leaned back in his chair, a storm of thoughts brewing in his mind.

The snake had extended his fangs again. And this time, he’d sunk them into someone who mattered.

Kakashi couldn't hide the sadness in his eyes. His once-promising student hadn’t come to him for guidance, but instead chose to seek out Orochimaru time and again. As a teacher, how was he supposed to feel about that?

“Go inform them,” Toshiro said calmly.

He had no intention of intervening directly. Sasuke still had his parents and older brother—it was their place to worry. Besides, sometimes a rebellious child needed to experience hardship before they understood.

If it became necessary, he’d assign a team to bring him back. Missing-nin were not too uncommon in the ninja world.

—

Time flowed silently, like a river that carried away youth, memories, and chances never taken. No matter how tightly we tried to grasp it, it slipped between our fingers, leaving only reflection in its wake.

"Tch. Time flies."

It had already been three years since Sasuke left Konoha.

Not long after his departure, both Fugaku and Itachi pursued him personally. But Orochimaru had anticipated this and laid down layers of illusion and subterfuge, expertly evading their pursuit. He’d successfully lured Sasuke into his grasp.

Toshiro had merely scoffed when he received the news. He didn’t panic—if anything, he found it mildly amusing.

In the original timeline, Jiraiya took on an apprentice and treated him like a grandson. Sakura had inherited Tsunade’s will. But Orochimaru? He didn’t raise a student. He cultivated a weapon—as though parenting an heir.

“Maybe fate does play a role after all,” Toshiro mused aloud, thinking of Sasuke.

The office door creaked open. An Anbu escort stepped aside, revealing Itachi standing silently at attention.

“What’s the status of the investigation I assigned you?” Toshiro asked.

“The target location is confirmed,” Itachi replied. “I investigated it myself. Your information was accurate.”

“Good.”

The Fourth Great Ninja War was drawing closer. Toshiro estimated Nagato’s operation would begin within the next year or two. He needed to plan ahead—especially for the Uchiha clan.

After all, Madara’s twisted vision for humanity’s annihilation was still a looming threat. As clan leader, Toshiro had a responsibility to secure their future before the storm arrived.

Soon after Itachi left, a message arrived on Toshiro’s desk. It was a request for aid—from Sunagakure.

“The Akatsuki attacked the Sand Village... and kidnapped the Fifth Kazekage?”

So fate had played its cards again.

Rasa, who narrowly escaped Orochimaru’s schemes, had ultimately succumbed to poison during the pursuit of Sasori. In the end, just as in the original history, Gaara had succeeded him as Kazekage.

“I didn’t expect the Akatsuki to make a move this soon,” Toshiro muttered.

By now, Naruto was sixteen. At this stage in the timeline, it was clear the Fourth Great War was not far off.

“Naruto’s just returned from Mount Myōboku. Perfect timing to send him for Gaara’s rescue.”

During the Chunin Exams, Naruto and Gaara had already sensed the similarities in each other—both bound by the fate of being Jinchūriki. That battle had sparked a quiet understanding, a bond of shared suffering.

In the years since, the growing peace among the ninja villages had only deepened these connections. Strategic cooperation was becoming more common, and friendships had begun to bloom across former enemy lines.

“Let’s just hope this kid’s Sage Mode training paid off…”

Jiraiya had reported Naruto’s progress at Mount Myōboku, but Toshiro hadn’t seen it firsthand.

If Naruto had truly mastered Sage Mode, he’d not only be strong enough to handle the mission—he’d have a real edge in the war to come.

With that thought, Toshiro leaned back in his chair, the gears of fate already turning.