"Ahem…"
At that moment, Peter noticed movement from the unconscious old man lying before him.
The elder's eyelids fluttered weakly, and with great effort, he slowly opened his eyes. His pupils, clouded and weary, scanned his surroundings in confusion before finally settling on Peter, who stood calmly a few paces away.
For a brief second, there was only silence. Then recognition dawned upon him—not of Peter himself, but of the simple fact that he was looking at another living soul in this endless sea of sand. His expression froze, followed by a mixture of disbelief and raw hope.
It was as if he could not comprehend meeting a human being here, in such a desolate place. To him, it felt like salvation itself had descended upon him.
The man's chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his cracked lips trembling. His heart beat wildly, for he realized that as long as the stranger before him was willing to help, his old, battered body might yet escape death.
Yes. This elder was none other than Sarutobi Hiruzen—the former Hokage of Konoha. Once respected and feared, now reduced to a discarded relic. Abandoned by the Sand Shinobi after they had wrung every drop of worth from him, he had been left to die in the merciless desert.
Hiruzen struggled to control the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. His voice, though weak and trembling, carried a desperate urgency as he addressed Peter.
"Young man… can you… can you take me out of this desert?" His breathing was ragged, but his eyes burned with pleading intensity. "As long as you help me leave this cursed place, I will be forever grateful."
---
Peter did not answer immediately. He crossed his arms, his sharp gaze narrowing as he studied the battered elder in front of him.
There was something about this man that stirred suspicion.
Instead of replying, Peter spoke in a measured tone.
"Old man, before I consider your request, tell me this: how did you end up unconscious here? And what exactly happened to your body?"
As he spoke, Peter's eyes swept across the man's injuries—his missing arm, the deep whip marks carved into his skin, and the severed tendons that left him crippled.
A desert was merciless enough for the able-bodied. For a man with two ruined legs and only one arm, survival should have been impossible.
Peter's thoughts turned darker. Could this frail-looking elder be hiding something?
He recalled stories of cunning warriors who pretended to be harmless only to strike when least expected. What if this man was feigning weakness? What if, beneath this fragile shell, there lurked a deadly predator waiting for the right moment?
The possibility gnawed at Peter, sharpening the edge of his caution. If this was a trap, letting his guard down even for an instant could mean his death.
With that thought, Peter's eyes hardened. If the elder's answers proved unsatisfactory, Peter was fully prepared to abandon him—or worse.
---
Sarutobi Hiruzen noticed the suspicion in Peter's gaze. A chill ran down his spine. His throat tightened, and he swallowed nervously.
"Young man, please… don't be wary. I am no threat to you," he said quickly, raising his only hand as if to show his helplessness.
But Peter's expression did not soften. His frown deepened.
"I asked you a question," Peter said firmly, his voice edged with impatience. "Why are you here, and how did you receive these injuries? Don't think you can dodge my words."
His tone left no room for evasion.
For an instant, Hiruzen's frail heart trembled. He could tell this youth was serious—cold enough to abandon him here without hesitation. If Peter turned and left now, he truly would be buried in this endless wasteland.
The thought terrified him.
He shook his head quickly, his voice trembling but insistent. "No, no, wait! Please listen. I have a reason—there is a story behind why I am here. Allow me to explain!"
---
Peter gave a slight nod, though his eyes remained guarded. "Go on then. Speak."
Hiruzen drew a shallow, painful breath, relieved to have been given even the slimmest chance.
"I… I was once a shinobi of Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves," he began, his voice hoarse yet carrying the weight of truth. "Because of a certain… special mission, I was required to go undercover in Sunagakure, the Village Hidden in the Sand."
His words spilled slowly, each syllable colored with age and exhaustion.
"But not long after I infiltrated, my identity was discovered. The Sand shinobi captured me and dragged me before their advisor, Chiyo. From that moment, I was locked in their dungeons."
Hiruzen's face twisted with pain at the memory. His body trembled slightly.
"They tortured me endlessly," he whispered. "Day after day, they whipped me, broke me, demanding information I would never give. The scars you see… these are but a small glimpse of what I endured."
Peter's gaze flickered briefly to the deep, discolored lash marks covering the elder's body. The wounds were real enough.
"Later," Hiruzen continued, his voice heavy, "when they realized I would not speak, Sunagakure attempted to ransom me back to my own village. They sent word to Konoha, demanding a price for my return. But…"
His voice cracked, his throat tightening with bitterness. Tears welled in his eyes.
"My own village refused," he choked out. "They said I must have already betrayed them, that I had given away our secrets under torture. They… they abandoned me."
The old man's shoulders slumped as he let out a long, broken sigh. "I gave everything to Konoha. My youth, my strength, my loyalty… and in the end, this is what I received. Betrayal. Disgrace."
---
Peter observed him quietly.
At first glance, the words sounded like the ramblings of a broken man. Yet the pain in his eyes, the bitterness in his tone—it was difficult to dismiss them as lies.
"Pitiful," Peter murmured with mock sympathy, exaggerating his expression. He even raised a hand to wipe away nonexistent tears. "Truly pitiful… Old man, you are too tragic. Even I can hardly bear to watch."
Sarutobi Hiruzen's mouth twitched.
What do you mean you can't bear to watch? he thought irritably. You're not the one suffering here—I am!
But he dared not speak his thoughts aloud. He needed this youth's cooperation, no matter how ridiculous his theatrics.
Instead, he pressed on with a pitiful tone. "Young man, please… I beg you. Take me away from this desert. If I live to return, I will find a way to repay your kindness."
---
Peter's eyes sharpened again, not swayed by the man's pleas.
"Repay me, you say? That depends." He leaned closer, his tone turning cold. "Tell me something first. How exactly did you lose your arm? Who severed your tendons? And most importantly—how did you escape Sunagakure alive?"
The intensity of his stare made it clear he would accept no evasions.
Hiruzen exhaled shakily, gathering the strength to answer.
"At the time," he said slowly, "I had already refused to yield my secrets. Konoha's rejection enraged the Sand shinobi. They could not kill me outright—it would have been too merciful. Instead, they sealed my chakra, cut off one of my arms, severed my tendons, and finally… cast me into the desert to die."
His tone was steady, yet laced with grief.
Peter studied him carefully, watching his every twitch and breath for signs of deception. But the elder's story matched the visible scars on his body. There was no obvious falsehood.
So it's true—at least seventy percent of it, Peter thought, though he kept his expression unreadable.
---
What Hiruzen did not say, however, was the most crucial part.
The truth was darker, stranger.
When Sunagakure learned of the Akatsuki's overwhelming victory and the uncertain fate of their Kazekage, Rasa, panic spread. Chiyo herself was consumed with fury and dread.
In her rage, she stormed into the dungeon where Hiruzen was imprisoned. Without restraint, she whipped him mercilessly, venting her frustrations upon his frail body.
This time, however, her anger was too great. With no medical ninja to control the damage, her brutal beating left Hiruzen lifeless on the cold dungeon floor.
For a moment, it seemed the old Hokage had truly perished.
But then—the impossible happened.
Hiruzen's body stirred. His eyes snapped open. His wounds began to knit themselves together, closing as if time itself reversed.
Chiyo froze in shock. The prisoner she had just killed had returned from death.
Hungry for answers, she interrogated him relentlessly, desperate to know the secret of his resurrection. But Hiruzen, stubborn as ever, revealed nothing.
Her frustration grew into obsession. She dragged him to her laboratories, subjecting him to experiment after experiment. She killed him again and again, only to watch him return each time.
Finally, through her twisted experiments, Chiyo discovered the truth. The source of Hiruzen's miraculous revival was not his will, nor some forbidden jutsu, but the Sharingan embedded in his arm.
Enraged and greedy, Chiyo severed the arm without hesitation, claiming the eye for her studies.
After that, Hiruzen was useless to her. His chakra sealed, his tendons cut, his body broken—he was nothing but a discarded husk.
And so, without remorse, they threw him into the merciless desert, where death awaited.
---
But fate had other plans.
Now, before Peter, the once-great Hokage pleaded for salvation..
His life, his pride, his very existence hung by a fragile thread..
And Peter alone held the scissors.
---
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)