Year 27 of Konoha
"Another peaceful day today."
On the streets of Konoha, a man with a head of natural black curls walked with the swagger of someone who owed nothing to anyone, leisurely wandering under the shop eaves.
Although his features were quite handsome, the lifeless, "dead fish" eyes completely ruined his overall aura, making him look like someone you'd want to punch.
He had the vibe of an unreliable drifter, yet the townsfolk didn't shy away from him. An elderly man sunbathing by the roadside grinned and asked:
"Gin, are you heading out for a mission today?"
"Nope, just strolling around. Gave myself the day off," the curly-haired man—Gin—replied offhandedly after stopping.
As if remembering something, he fished around inside the high-collared robe he was wearing and pulled out a stick-shaped item, tossing it to the old man before taking one for himself.
The old man's face twitched as he looked at the lollipop in his hand.
"At our age, we really shouldn't be eating this kind of thing."
"Is that so? I remember you used to love them," Gin said, squinting at the old man. For just a moment, the dull eyes flashed with an odd emotion.
"Yeah… but that was back then."
Though he didn't eat it, the old man still pocketed the candy, smiling warmly.
"I can give it to my grandson. He'll be a month old tomorrow. We're throwing a full-month banquet—come by for a drink."
"Another banquet? How's a lowly genin like me supposed to afford that kind of lifestyle? Guess I'll have to go catch a few more cats." Gin sighed in mock annoyance.
"Hehe, just remember to come."
"By the way, have you decided on your grandson's name? I could help you—guaranteed to bring health and prosperity. How about 'Dog Egg'?"
The old man gave him a deadpan look.
"It's already decided—Minato."
Gin, who had been rambling on about names, froze when he heard it. For a moment, fleeting memories flashed through his mind.
"What's wrong? Don't like it?"
Noticing the golden hair the old man once had in his youth, Gin let it go.
"Nothing. Just… some dead memories attacking me."
Lifting his head, Gin gazed toward the two contrasting stone faces carved into the distant mountainside, letting out a sigh.
"I think your grandson's got an extraordinary bone structure. Could be the reincarnation of the Sage of Six Paths. He's got the makings of a Hokage—definitely a bright future ahead."
The old man looked puzzled.
"But you haven't even seen him yet."
"Night reading of the stars," Gin replied.
The old man blinked, glancing up at the blazing midsummer sun.
"Pretty bright stars you've got there…"
When he turned back, the man beside him had vanished.
"Clicking his tongue, the old man muttered, "How many times now? Always leaving without a word," before heading back to tend his shop.
Elsewhere, Gin continued wandering aimlessly, those dead fish eyes betraying no interest in anything.
"Lord Gin, the clan meeting is about to start—why are you still here?"
The voice came from behind. A young man with black hair knelt before him.
"No clan head, no real meeting—just the same old speeches from those so-called elders. Better to take a stroll," Uchiha Gin replied, completely dismissive.
The messenger seemed unsurprised, but his expression held both fear and confusion. Carefully choosing his words, he said:
"Please don't make things difficult for me. My job is just to notify you. Go or don't—it's your choice. But the elders said you must remember… you're still an Uchiha."
With that, he vanished in a flicker.
"So boring. They think just because that damned white-haired guy's gone, they can start making moves? The muddy waters of Konoha aren't for you straight-laced types. Fighting over a Hokage seat not even dogs want—wouldn't it be better to just slack off with me?" Gin muttered, rolling his eyes.
Under the Hokage Monument, the Hokage's office was thick with smoke. Behind a desk buried in paperwork, a figure worked tirelessly. Suddenly, someone pushed the door open.
"Hiruzen, I have reliable intel—the Uchiha clan is holding another secret meeting today. I've already got a rough report on their discussion. It's time to act!"
A handsome man in his thirties with an X-shaped scar on his chin slapped a document onto the desk.
The man behind the desk—Sarutobi Hiruzen—looked up, exasperated at his old friend. Without a word, he tossed the paper into the trash.
"You—!"
The young Shimura Danzō nearly choked on his own breath.
"Danzō, stop focusing all your attention on the Uchiha clan. The village has just entered a period of peace—we're rebuilding from the ground up. Now is not the time for internal strife," Hiruzen said, puffing on his pipe.
"They're a clan born of evil—we must never let our guard down," Danzō spat.
"Shhh."
At the words "born of evil," Hiruzen glanced around warily and shushed him.
Realizing his slip, Danzō's expression turned slightly awkward, though his voice stayed stubborn.
"You're Hokage now, and you're still afraid—"
"Afraid of what?"
Before he could finish, a lazy voice cut in:
"Still afraid of that curly-haired dead fish-eyed bas—aaaaaah!"
Danzō froze mid-sentence, horror dawning as he realized a figure was standing behind him.
"Bas… bas… bas-tastic handsome guy," he stammered, face flushing.
"Well, if it isn't little Dan-dan. Long time no see," Gin said cheerfully, patting him on the shoulder.
"What have you been up to lately? Still tinkering with that 'Root' thing of yours? Hiring? I'm a little short on cash."
Seeing Danzō fluster, Gin grinned, patting him again.
"Just messing with you."
Turning to Hiruzen, he said, "Monkey, I'm here to pick up a few D-rank missions. The kid from the Namikaze family's a grandpa now—invited me to his grandson's banquet. Gotta make some money first."
Hiruzen, unsurprised, pulled several mission slips from a drawer and handed them over.
"Already prepared. But are you sure you don't want something harder? With your strength—"
"What about my strength? I'm a genin—personally certified by Hashirama. You don't know what I can do?"
Gin happily flipped through the missions.
"These'll do. I'm off—you two lovebirds have fun."
Once Gin was gone, Danzō finally let out a breath. His expression darkened.
"He's still the same…"
Hiruzen's face also grew serious.
"Looks like he's still thirty. All these years, since we were kids, he's been like that."
"Yeah… never changed."
"Could that jutsu really be that powerful?"
They both fell silent. After all, only a handful of people still knew the technique—and there was no way to verify it now.