Kakashi himself could not explain why the desire to become Hokage suddenly ignited within him.
For so long, he had convinced himself that those youthful dreams were dead and buried, sealed away in the deepest corner of his heart. He had worked tirelessly to ignore them, to suppress the whispers of the boy he once was. Yet now, that fragile ember, thought long extinguished, sparked back to life.
It was all because of a short essay.
A childish piece of writing, naive yet filled with raw hope—the words of Uchiha Gen.
When Kakashi read it, memories long submerged in the mists of time resurfaced with vivid clarity. He could see that boy again, standing under the sun, his messy hair catching the light, his round goggles slightly crooked on his face. That boy had declared more than once—his dream to become Hokage.
Obito.
That same boy had wanted to protect the village, to protect his friends, to prove himself to the world. And in the end… he had died on the battlefield, leaving Kakashi behind to carry the weight of memory and guilt.
Kakashi clenched his fists unconsciously. Why now, of all times, was that voice echoing in his ears?
While he struggled with his own thoughts, Tsunade finally composed herself. The shock and grief of what she had learned had left her shaken, but she forced her emotions back into order. Without a word, she set off toward Konoha with Jiraiya by her side. Kakashi walked slightly behind them, his mind still swirling.
As they journeyed, Kakashi recounted everything he knew about the Uchiha Clan massacre. His tone was calm, almost detached, but every detail carried the weight of tragedy. He did not embellish, nor did he soften the truth.
Tsunade and Jiraiya listened in silence. They were seasoned veterans, no strangers to cruelty or betrayal, but what they heard today unsettled them deeply.
Though Kakashi admitted he did not know the full truth, the Sannin were quick to piece together what he had not said aloud.
Danzo.
And the Third Hokage.
Tsunade's lips tightened, her voice soft yet bitter:
"I never imagined… the Uchiha Clan…"
Jiraiya's expression darkened. "I didn't think their retaliation would be this terrifying…"
Neither of them had expected that behind this apocalyptic crisis was not a great clan, not a legendary figure, but a single, nearly invisible existence—Uchiha Gen.
At the Academy, he had been unremarkable. He hadn't awakened the Sharingan until graduation. Even within his clan, he had been overlooked. To most, he had been little more than a shadow in the background.
And yet, it was this "nobody" who had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan.
A power that warped fate itself.
Through that terrifying ability, he had elevated the near-zero chance of an asteroid colliding with the Ninja World into a near certainty.
This was no longer genjutsu. No longer a mere bloodline limit. It was a curse-like power that bent the rules of the world itself.
The thought alone left the two Sannin unsettled.
After the age of Madara and Hashirama, they had believed no single shinobi could again push the world to the brink of destruction. But now, standing on the precipice of catastrophe, they realized how wrong they had been.
Jiraiya's shoulders stiffened. His heart was heavy not only with the looming threat of destruction, but also with the festering conflicts within Konoha itself.
For years, the village had been divided. Factions schemed against one another, men in power fought to protect their own influence, and old grudges festered beneath the surface. If disaster struck now, those suppressed rivalries would erupt like a volcano. The village would fracture from within, even as annihilation loomed without.
Stopping Uchiha Gen was no longer just urgent—it was the only hope for survival.
"Uchiha Gen… do you remember anything about him?" Jiraiya asked quietly.
Kakashi frowned, his brows knitting together. "Just a classmate. I barely remember him at all… Even Obito probably never knew him."
How ironic. A boy so forgettable that even his peers could not recall him—yet now, he had grown into a force capable of shaking the world itself.
An ordinary soul, pushed aside his whole life, now sought vengeance in the most extraordinary way.
Tsunade remained silent. As one who had always pushed the limits of medical ninjutsu, she understood what power meant. Yet for the first time, she felt the limits of her own strength pressing against her. She could not heal the world from this. She could not protect it from a falling star.
The end of the world seemed inevitable.
Then, unexpectedly, Jiraiya laughed.
It wasn't the laughter of a carefree wanderer—it was sharp, resolute, almost defiant.
"There's no reason to give up now," he said firmly. "There are countless innocent people in Konoha waiting for us. Even if the hope is slim, we will fight with everything we have to protect them."
Tsunade glanced at him, her expression softening. His words pierced through her despair like sunlight through clouds. With a helpless sigh, she murmured, "You always did know how to talk big…"
Kakashi said nothing. To him, Jiraiya's words were just that—words. Beautiful, hopeful words that masked the unbearable truth.
---
Meanwhile, inside the hidden lair of the Akatsuki…
Obito sat alone.
From within his cloak, he drew out a small glass container. Inside, submerged in preserving liquid, floated a single eye—the Mangekyō Sharingan of Uchiha Gen.
The crimson tomoe swirled like a curse.
Obito stared into it, and for a fleeting moment, he felt as though the eye stared back.
Unease spread through him like poison. Something in those eyes was seeping into him, whispering to him, tugging at the edges of his thoughts.
It was strange.
In recent days, his mind had become a battlefield of its own. Memories of Rin, flashes of Kakashi, echoes of Gen's unsettling words—all of them collided in chaos.
And sometimes, when the whispers grew louder, a thought took root:
If the world was destroyed… Rin would be free.
Free from war.
Free from pain.
Free from the cruel fate that had torn her life away.
Wouldn't that be the perfect world for her?
A world of silence. A world without conflict. A world of peace—because nothing remained to suffer.
Obito's grip on the bottle tightened. "Damn it… all because of what that bastard said to me…"
"Obito," came a low, slippery voice.
Obito flinched. He turned and found Black Zetsu standing behind him, half-emerging from the shadows like a snake slithering into the light.
"Why are you holding that eye again?"
Obito said nothing. He looked down at the Mangekyō once more, its eerie glow reflecting in his own eye. His silence stretched long enough that Black Zetsu's voice sharpened.
"What are you doing?"
For a long moment, Obito did not answer. Then, his voice cracked the silence, low and hoarse. "Zetsu… if the Ninja World truly were destroyed, wouldn't that be… peace?"
Black Zetsu froze.
Peace?
He nearly laughed, but the laughter curdled into rage. "Destroy your head… I still need this world! I still need to revive Mother!"
The thought sent fury boiling through him. He could not allow Obito to falter now, not when everything was so close.
"Obito, what are you doubting?" he hissed, his tone cold and venomous.
Obito didn't answer right away. His gaze grew distant, lost in half-formed memories. A faint, mocking voice in the back of his mind whispered that he was being foolish, that his ideals were twisting into something grotesque.
And yet… the idea persisted.
The eye pulsed faintly in the glass, as though mocking him.
Black Zetsu sensed it immediately—the hesitation, the corrosion. He felt unease crawl through his being. "Obito!" His voice lashed out like a whip. "Destroy those eyes. Now!"
Obito's body tensed. His fingers clenched tighter around the bottle. For a long time, he said nothing. The silence was suffocating, thick with unspoken tension.
Finally, his lips moved. "No… there's no need."
His voice trembled, but within it lingered stubbornness.
"These eyes… might be Rin's hope."
Black Zetsu recoiled, stunned. "What nonsense are you spouting?!" His voice cracked with rare panic, rising to a near-hysterical shout.
In that moment, Zetsu realized the terrifying truth—these eyes were not just a weapon. They were a poison. Silent yet relentless, they were eroding Obito's will, twisting it into something unrecognizable.
"What exactly do you intend to do?!" Zetsu demanded, his voice trembling with fear he could not hide.
Obito slowly raised his head. A strange light burned in his gaze, cold yet resolute. His words were quiet, but they cut through the darkness like a blade.
"These eyes… see the truth of the world. I will never allow you to destroy them."
Zetsu felt a chill ripple through him. He had not expected this. Not from Obito. Not now.
Madness flickered in Obito's expression, and yet beneath it lay a terrible clarity.
"I will create a world for Rin," Obito whispered. His grip on the bottle tightened, veins bulging in his hand. "A world where she can smile again.."
His tone deepened, hardening with each word.
"It will be the world after destruction."
Zetsu's black face twisted in fury and fear.
He's insane.
This man—this vessel—was slipping beyond his control.
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