"What's with the dry mouth thing?!"
"It's none of your business!"
Little Jiraiya, still clutching his drink, was about to shoot back another retort when Sarutobi Hiruzen pressed his palm gently on the boy's head, steering him and the group of children into a nearby shop. There he bought everyone a cup of steaming chestnut juice.
"Alright, alright," Hiruzen said with a smile. "I'm a ninja from the village."
He ruffled Jiraiya's white hair before handing him the drink. The warmth in his tone made the children relax.
"It sounds like you haven't entered the village's ninja academy yet," Hiruzen continued conversationally. "You're not five years old, are you?"
"I'm already five!" Jiraiya puffed out his chest indignantly. "I can start school this year. I'm sure I'll pass the entrance exam!"
It must be said—Hiruzen had always been approachable. Despite being a seasoned shinobi, he never carried himself with arrogance. He easily set aside his pride to mingle with the children, earning their respect in moments.
When the youngsters heard that Hiruzen had spent ten years traveling the world as a ninja, their eyes filled with admiration.
"Hmph…"
Danzo, standing to the side, cast Hiruzen a disdainful glance. In his mind, they should be hurrying to the Hokage Building to report, not lingering with children. "Ninjas aren't here to play house," he muttered under his breath.
Fortunately, Hiruzen didn't dally long. He used the opportunity to gently probe the children about the village's recent changes. From their chatter, he learned that Konoha was preparing to elect a Second Hokage.
So the rumors were true…
The First Hokage's health really was failing.
Just then, their official reception arrived.
Upon learning of Emiya Shihara's return, Senju Tobirama immediately dispatched people to greet them. Over the years, Tobirama had kept tabs on Shihara's activities, sending word to him often.
"As expected…" Tobirama murmured as he approached. "Even Lord Emiya… hasn't found the remains of the Divine Tree?"
There was no overt disappointment in Tobirama's expression. He himself had secretly sent countless search parties over the past decade. All of Konoha's Anbu had at one time or another been tasked with finding the Divine Tree's remnants, but none truly understood what they were looking for. They had brought back strange flowers, exotic seeds, and unusual bark—yet never the genuine article.
After so many fruitless attempts, even someone as relentless as Tobirama had begun to lose hope.
"It seems the remains of the Divine Tree have been stripped away by the ninja clans," Shihara said quietly. His journey had been fruitful in many ways, but in this, it had ended in disappointment.
"Then… there's no other solution?" Tobirama's voice dropped. He dismissed the attending shinobi with a gesture. A rare solemnity settled over his face.
"Sir Emiya," he said gravely. "My elder brother's health appears strong, even vigorous. But I fear his life is nearing its end. He hasn't left Konoha at all this year to search for Madara."
Hashirama Senju was normally absent from the village, always tracking Uchiha Madara across the world. He would return only briefly, sometimes missing even major family events. Yet this year he had not traveled at all. Worse, his behavior had become erratic—he even took his granddaughter gambling with him daily. Everyone could sense that something was wrong.
"His body is like a tree," Shihara murmured, having already anticipated the question. "On the surface, it appears vibrant, every leaf lush and green. But this tree drains its own life force to maintain its color. His power has stayed at its peak only because he's been burning through his own lifespan.
"A tree of longevity," he continued softly. "Withering and flourishing once a year is normal. Humans, like trees, can never remain lush forever. The remnants of the Divine Tree and the power of yang were external forces prolonging his life. Without them, he's nearing his limit."
Tobirama's eyes dimmed. He had spent ten years preparing for Konoha's future after his brother's passing, but the thought of losing Hashirama was still unbearable.
Shihara fell silent.
But Tobirama knew him too well. If Shihara truly had no recourse, he would have said so plainly.
"Sir Emiya!" Tobirama pressed, his heart racing. "There must be a way to save my brother. Tell me!"
"I can't be sure," Shihara said finally. "Because this isn't medicine. It's a last resort—one with a high chance of failure. And it's tied to the greatest secret of the Pure Land of the Underworld. This is a secret about the dead…"
Tobirama's face changed instantly.
As the creator of the Impure World Reincarnation technique, he knew better than anyone the fate of departed souls. He also knew of the strange Death Gods spoken of by the Uzumaki clan, whose forbidden techniques could borrow the power of these Shinigami to seal enemies. The Shiki Fūjin seal was the natural nemesis of his own jutsu, because once a soul was sealed inside a Death God, it could never be summoned again.
Tobirama had always been fascinated by the mysteries of death. His powers couldn't reach the Underworld itself, but his curiosity about it was endless.
"I might still be able to help," Tobirama said carefully. "If it's the Pure Land of the Underworld you're speaking of, I have some understanding. After all, I was able to bring you back by communicating with your soul, which returned there after death. Some souls, however, remain sealed within the Death Gods and never return…"
Shihara's eyes flickered. How dare he tread so casually on the peace of the dead…
If not for Shihara's own immense soul power, even his body would have long been sealed to prevent spiritual collapse. Tobirama truly was a genius—he had even researched the Death Gods themselves. But Shihara's final resort had nothing to do with them.
Having inherited power from the Sage of Six Paths, Shihara's soul was no longer bound to the Underworld. He had met the Death Gods personally and found them to be mindless, instinctive creatures—charging at him only to be beaten back, forgetting and returning again. No wonder the ninjas of the world could exploit them so easily.
But their lack of consciousness was also their flaw. Someday, someone would discover how to escape them completely, or even turn their power into a perfect tool.
"Even you know about the Shinigami?" Shihara sighed. "But the Shinigami don't save lives…"
"Then what are you speaking of?" Tobirama's curiosity sharpened.
"Don't try to drag secrets out of me," Shihara said firmly. "I've seen too much deception and concealment these past ten years. Some secrets simply cannot be shared.
"I will only tell Hashirama. Even if he's on the verge of death, no one else may know."
This was his final test—the last boundary between life and death.
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