The noon sun hovered high above Konoha, washing the Hidden Leaf in a warm golden hue. The rooftops shimmered gently, smoke wafted lazily from chimneys, and birds chirped excitedly as if they too sensed that today was no ordinary day.
Inside the orphanage, however, chaos reigned.
"Hurry up, children! You don't want to be late for such an important occasion!" Akari's voice rang sharp and determined as she flitted across the hallway, her sandals clapping against the wooden floor.
"Tuck in your shirts, comb your hair, and for Kami's sake, stop chasing each other around like feral Inuzuka pups!"
Nono Yakushi, her pristine white robes swishing softly as she moved, calmly assisted a younger child in fastening his sash. "Everyone, please stay close together. Today is a big day for Konoha. We must show respect and discipline."
From a nearby corner, a boy with curly brown hair tugged on Akari's sleeve, wide-eyed. "Miss Akari, what's happening? Why are we going to the square?"
Akari smiled brightly, the excitement evident in her tone. "We're going to meet the new Hokage! Isn't that wonderful?"
A collective gasp echoed through the room. Some of the children began bouncing on their feet, their earlier sluggishness forgotten. The word 'Hokage' lit up their eyes like a spark catching dry leaves.
Outside, already leaning against the orphanage wall, stood Satoru. Arms folded loosely across his chest, he watched the excited bustle within through an open window. Two weeks had passed since Jun Yamanaka's visit, and though nothing had yet come of that conversation, today's event was enough to pull his thoughts into sharp focus.
His eyes drifted toward the horizon where the towering Hokage Monument loomed like silent sentinels carved into the mountain rock. The platform set up for the ceremony was nestled just beneath the stone faces, symbolic and deliberate.
"This might actually be the calm before the storm," Satoru thought, narrowing his gaze. Everything about this day reeked of significance—too clean, too orchestrated, too hopeful. In a world like this, such moments usually precede chaos. Even though the chaos for this particular event would arrive in a few years to come.
Eventually, the rest of the orphanage spilt out into the open, children neatly dressed—well, as neatly as a dozen energetic kids could be made to look. The adults followed closely, herding the group like a nervous flock.
Their journey through the village was… illuminating. It was Satoru's first time stepping beyond the orphanage's gate, and the difference was staggering.
The streets of Konoha bustled with life. Wooden shops lined the cobbled roads, banners fluttered from balconies, the rich scent of grilled dumplings and miso soup wafted from street vendors, and shinobi with flak jackets zipped along rooftops, their sandals thudding lightly against the tile. Brightly robed civilians mingled with kunoichi and traders. To Satoru, it was like stepping into a memory made real.
His gaze lingered on a pair of shinobi idly talking beside a dango stand—one bore a scar across his brow protector, the other had the Hyūga's signature pale eyes. Every detail thrilled and terrified him. He was walking through a place he'd once only seen through a screen. But unlike the safe distance of fiction, now every glinting kunai and silent glance could mean his life.
The children giggled and darted ahead, forcing the adults to shout and chase them back into line. "Tomo! Not that way—get back here!" Akari called, already breathless. "Suzu, don't tug on that man's robe!"
Satoru chuckled quietly at the antics, but his amusement faded as the group reached the village square.
It was packed.
The entire plaza teemed with villagers—hundreds gathered shoulder-to-shoulder, voices rising in a cacophony of eager chatter. In the centre stood a wide wooden platform, flanked by Konoha banners. Behind it, carved into the cliffside, were the grand visages of the past Hokage. Hashirama, Tobirama, Hiruzen. But there was an empty space next to them, waiting. Waiting for the Fourth.
Satoru tilted his head slightly. "They really went all out with this, didn't they?" he thought, noting the polished finish of the platform, the garlands, and even the smell of freshly cut timber. "They want it to look perfect. Picturesque. For history books, or scrolls in this case."
Eventually, a hush began to fall across the crowd like a tide pulling back before a wave.
A figure stepped onto the platform.
The third Hokage—Hiruzen Sarutobi.
His moustache had grown fuller and lines had begun etching his face like deep crevices in stone. He wore the regal red and white robes of the Hokage and the ceremonial hat that sat like a crown upon his head.
He raised a hand. The crowd fell completely silent.
Hiruzen's voice, though aged, still carried weight.
"People of Konoha… Today, we gather not just to witness a political transition, but to honour our resilience."
A few soft murmurs rippled through the audience.
"These past few years have been marked with great sacrifice. We have buried friends, comrades, sons, and daughters. The Third Great War has taken much from us… but it has not taken our spirit. Our Will of Fire still burns strong."
Satoru watched carefully. He could feel the emotion in the air, even as he kept a cynical distance in his mind.
"We must rebuild. Not just our walls or homes, but our hearts. And that is why today, I relinquish this hat and this title… to a man who has proven himself in both war and peace. A shinobi of remarkable talent and character."
Satoru's lips thinned. He already knew the speech, the moment, the weight of it. But still, it felt strange to see it unfold firsthand.
"I present to you the Fourth Hokage—Namikaze Minato!"
Thunderous applause erupted like a dam breaking.
Blond, tall, and clad in the flowing white cloak with flames licking the hem, Minato strode forward onto the platform, his calm blue eyes scanning the crowd with warmth. He raised a hand and smiled.
'There he is. The Golden Boy of Konoha, the yellow flash,' Satoru thought.
Cheers and whistles filled the air. Children sat on their parent's shoulders, kunoichi clapped, and even some gruff shinobi cracked brief smiles.
Minato waited a few moments before speaking.
"It is an incredible honour to stand before you all today."
His voice was smooth, unwavering.
"I stand here not as a hero but as a servant of this village. I pledge, with all that I am, to protect the people of Konoha, to nurture peace, and to pass on our Will of Fire to the generations yet to come."
Satoru looked at Hiruzen who stood a few meters behind, haloed in sunlight, and felt an ache in his chest.
'All of this just to retake the Hokage seat after Minato's death,' he thought darkly. 'Like he hated the Uchiha clan so much that he'd rather come back from retirement than choose Fugaku. And people said Tobirama was the Uchiha's biggest hater.'
His jaw clenched. He wasn't just a spectator anymore. He was part of this story and that amplified his dislike for the third Hokage even more.
The speech ended. The crowd roared again as Minato stepped back and Hiruzen nodded with pride. Then slowly, people began to disperse, conversations blossoming again like spring flowers.
Back near the edge of the square, one of the orphan kids tugged on Nono's sleeve, eyes wide with wonder.
"Miss Nono! What does it take to become Hokage?"
Nono smiled gently, folding her hands together. "You need to be strong. Not just in power, but in heart."
The child puffed his chest, grinning. "Then I'll become strong! I'll be the next Hokage, you'll see!"
Satoru, standing nearby, couldn't help himself.
He chuckled. Loudly.
The child turned to him, pouting. "What's so funny, Satoru?"
"Nothing," he said, waving a hand dismissively, still grinning. "Just… good luck with that."
He turned away before anyone saw the shadows flickering behind his smile.
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