"Damn it! What the hell is all this?!"
In the Hokage's Office, the air was thick with the scent of ink and frustration. Jiraiya and Shizune were buried under a mountain of scrolls and paperwork that seemed to breed when no one was looking.
"The Sarutobi clan's cat gave birth to a litter of kittens? Since when does the Hokage need to be personally informed about feline obstetrics?!" Jiraiya slammed a scroll down, his face a mask of pure exasperation. The sheer inanity of the reports was bad enough, but what was truly infuriating was the scene playing out just a few feet away.
There, sitting in the Hokage's chair with the Fifth Hokage herself perched comfortably on his lap, was Namikaze Raimon. The two were openly flirting, with Raimon casually scribbling approvals on documents that Tsunade should have been handling.
"That's just too sickening!" Jiraiya muttered, a full-body shiver running down his spine. The sight was giving him goosebumps! "What a sin!"
A pang of regret struck him. If only I'd made my move back then… that could be me right now, the Hokage's man, living the easy life!
"Raimon, are you sure this is really okay?" Tsunade asked, a faint blush on her cheeks as she watched him effortlessly manage the administrative chaos she loathed.
"What's there to be afraid of?" Raimon replied, not looking up from a scroll detailing sewer maintenance schedules. "That guy Jiraiya needs to learn to stay in one place and work properly. Why does he run around outside all day? He can't even find a girlfriend! He's this old and still single, is that even proper?"
Namikaze Raimon clicked his tongue, the picture of genuine concern. "I'm truly worried sick about him. At his age, everyone else is already a grandfather!"
Jiraiya: Is it that I don't want to, damn it?! It's all because you stole my girl!
Tsunade nodded in earnest agreement, snuggling closer. "That's right! Jiraiya really isn't a young man anymore!"
"And that guy Orochimaru?" Raimon shook his head with a sigh. "He's probably a lost cause." He reflected on the sorry state of the Legendary Sannin. Only Tsunade had found a partner. Jiraiya really needed to get his act together. As for Orochimaru… well, he'd somehow end up getting himself a son someday anyway, so he was a special case.
Just as the couple was deep in their affectionate moment, their senses—honed by decades of shinobi experience—tingled simultaneously. Two powerful, unfamiliar chakra signatures had just crossed Konoha's border. They weren't hiding their presence; it was almost… casual.
Tsunade's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by the stern focus of a Hokage. She looked at Raimon, a silent question in her eyes. "Raimon?"
Namikaze Raimon, however, looked utterly unconcerned. From his perception, these two intruders were strong, certainly, but they hadn't reached an unbeatable level. They were nothing a former Sannin and the man who taught the Fourth Hokage couldn't handle.
Seeing the lingering worry on Tsunade's face, Raimon patted her back. "Alright, alright, I'll go take a look. Can't have anyone disturbing the peace, can we?"
Tsunade gracefully got off his lap. Namikaze Raimon stretched lazily before walking towards the large window behind the Hokage's desk.
"Hey! Can't you just use the main entrance like a normal person?!" Tsunade called out, exasperated.
But it was too late. With a casual wave, Raimon stepped out of the window and dropped from view, leaving Tsunade to massage her temples. "This isn't some secret affair… was that really necessary?"
****
On the other side of the village, the aftermath of the legendary spar was settling. Might Guy, having released the Eight Gates, lay flat on his back, chest heaving, his body utterly spent but his spirit soaring.
"Uncle Guy! You were amazing!" Naruto's unreserved praise washed over Guy, filling him with joy.
"Hahaha~ That guy Kakashi! I could take ten of him on a bad day!" Might Guy declared, his signature grin sparkling even in his exhaustion. Though his muscles screamed in protest, his youthful fervor burned brighter than ever.
Sasuke, who had been quietly observing, saw an opportunity. He walked behind the prostrate Jonin and, with uncharacteristic deference, began to massage Guy's shoulders and back.
"Uncle Guy," Sasuke began, his voice carefully neutral. "That technique you used… the Eight Gates Release. Could you… teach it to me?"
In his mind's eye, he saw it clearly: if he could master this power to its absolute peak, he could kick Uchiha Itachi's head straight into his own neck! No fancy genjutsu, no petty revenge—just pure, overwhelming physical power.
Might Guy turned his head, his expression becoming uncharacteristically serious. "Then you must be prepared for a trial of true youth! Lee trained for three years to reach the level of opening the gates!"
He knew it depended on individual physique, and as an Uchiha, Sasuke's natural talents might lie elsewhere. But the boy's determination was palpable.
Receiving a positive answer, Sasuke's efforts redoubled, his massage becoming so diligent that Guy let out a contented sigh. "Yosh! That's the spirit!"
After a few minutes of recovery, Guy sat up. "Alright! Let's go check on my eternal rival! I may have held back, but that was still a kick filled with the passion of youth! He might be trying to tough it out."
And so, Might Guy, with his team and a surprisingly attentive Sasuke in tow, set off in the direction a sore Kakashi had limped away.
****
By a serene, small river on the outskirts of Konoha, the air was anything but peaceful. Kakashi stood grim-faced, his single visible eye locked onto the two figures before him. They wore black cloaks adorned with ominous red clouds.
In another timeline, Asuma Sarutobi and Kurenai Yuhi, on a casual date, would have been the first to encounter this duo. But fate had been rewritten. The Sarutobi clan's desperate fundraising had Asuma on a mission far from the village, and Kurenai, with no one to date, was diligently putting her own genin team through their paces.
"Uchiha Itachi?" Kakashi's voice was low, laced with a mixture of shock and grim recognition. He was all too familiar with this prodigy of the Uchiha clan, the man who had slaughtered it to the last.
"Konoha's Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake," Kisame Hoshigaki replied, his tone flat and unimpressed, as if he were noting the presence of a minor nuisance.
Kakashi, however, felt no such calm. "It's truly an honor that you know my name," he said, forcing a lazy tone that belied his tension. "The Monster of the Hidden Mist, Kisame Hoshigaki?"
His uncovered Sharingan whirled to life, its crimson hue a stark contrast to the tranquil surroundings. The upcoming battle would be a nightmare. Kisame's raw power alone far surpassed his own, and Uchiha Itachi was a variable he dreaded to calculate.
"I don't care what your business is in Konoha," Kakashi stated, his voice hardening. "I advise you to leave. Immediately."
'Lady Tsunade, Lord Raimon, where are you?! Any second now would be great!' he screamed internally. The last thing he wanted was a direct confrontation.
"I thought only the Uchiha had those eyes," Kisame mused, glancing at Itachi. "You learn something new every day."
"Kakashi," Itachi's voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable menace. "If you value your life, walk away. I will depart once my business is concluded."
But a shinobi of Konoha did not simply step aside for terrorists. Kakashi's resolve solidified. Seeing this, Kisame Hoshigaki grinned, hefting the bizarre, bandaged form of Samehada from his back.
Sensing the fight was inevitable, Kakashi's hands became a blur. In two and a half seconds, a ridiculous forty-four hand seals were formed!
"Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu!" (Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique!)
A massive water dragon erupted from the river, roaring as it charged the Akatsuki pair. Seeing the sheer number of hand seals, Kisame actually looked intrigued, expecting some uniquely powerful variation.
But his intrigue quickly turned to mockery. "You dare to play with water in front of me?" It wasn't just arrogance; who in the five great nations needed forty-four seals for a simple Water Dragon?!
As the dragon bore down, Itachi didn't even flinch. Kisame, moving with deliberate slowness, formed four precise hand signs.
"Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu."
An identical, yet somehow more potent, water dragon surged forth, colliding with Kakashi's in a massive splash that drenched the riverbank, canceling each other out.
Kakashi stood frozen, his face twitching. "Damn it! Zabuza, you bastard, you screwed me over!" he cursed internally. What was the deal with the forty-four signs he'd copied?! It was a pity Zabuza was already dead; otherwise, Kakashi would have hunted him down to learn that the missing-nin had simply forgotten the proper, shortened sequence and had been winging it the whole time, a fact Kakashi's Sharingan had perfectly, and unfortunately, replicated.
"This is bad… really bad…" Kakashi's survival instincts screamed at him to run. Konoha had other defenders; let them handle these monsters!
But the moment the thought of flight crossed his mind, Uchiha Itachi was already there. He moved without a sound, materializing directly in front of Kakashi as if he'd teleported.
"You should just lie down quietly," Itachi stated, his expression unreadable. He didn't want a large-scale conflict. Putting Kakashi into a temporary coma was the most efficient solution.
"When did he—?!" Kakashi's blood ran cold. He hadn't even perceived the movement. Cold sweat poured down his forehead. 'Is this the true gap between us?! This is the genius of the Uchiha?!'
In his moment of sheer shock, Uchiha Itachi's eyes changed. The three tomoe of the Sharingan swirled and morphed into a sinister, intricate pattern that was something else entirely.
Kakashi, relying on his own stolen Sharingan, tried to resist. But the moment their eyes met, his world dissolved into darkness. He was trapped.
In the hellish genjutsu world, Kakashi found himself bound, unable to move. Uchiha Itachi stood over him, a short sword in hand.
Stab.
The blade plunged into his kidney. The pain was excruciating, amplified far beyond reality.
Stab. Stab. Stab.
"Without the Uchiha bloodline, how long can your mental endurance possibly last?" Itachi's voice echoed all around him.
A phantom timer appeared in the tortured landscape of his mind, its numbers ticking down with agonizing slowness.
"71 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds remaining…"