One was the Hokage, overlooking his village. The other, a twelve-year-old boy with both hands in his pockets and no expression on his face.
The Third did not immediately turn. He seemed to steep himself in some deep emotion, and in a world-worn, earnest tone he spoke slowly into the empty air before him:
"Ryo, do you know…"
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to Ryo's ears. It had a peculiar cadence to it, trying to conjure gravity and nostalgia.
"Back when I took this burden from the Second Hokage, I looked upon the scarred Konoha left by war, the children who had lost their families, crying for food, the defenses shot through with a thousand holes. Every step felt like treading thin ice."
He exhaled lightly, as if even the smoke from his pipe had grown heavy.
"I was afraid. Afraid I lacked the ability, that I would fail Tobirama-sama's trust. Afraid that with one misstep I would drag the village built by Hashirama-sama back into the darkness of war, that I would force the villagers who trust us to once again wander homeless, families shattered."
He paused, as if falling into a memory both heavy and shining. The performance was masterful, enough to make any hot-blooded youth's heart tremble.
Unfortunately, the one standing behind him was Ryo.
Hands in his pockets, crimson bangs tousled by the wind, Ryo's face did not move. Those long, narrow eyes of his were flat as ever, bereft even of cursory sympathy.
Oh? And then what? You came here to brag about your great achievements? To intimidate me?
What does any of that have to do with me?
Ryo rolled his eyes inwardly.
Hiruzen seemed to have worked himself to the right pitch. His tone suddenly swelled, ringing with pride:
"However, look, look at all of this!"
He finally turned, a reserved, seasoned smile on his face. His eyes burned as he looked at Ryo, and his arm swept grandly toward the village below, bathed in the sunset.
"This prosperity. That rising cooking smoke. Children laughing and playing in the streets. Elders basking peacefully in the sun at their doors. Ninja returning from training, their steps in unison. Every lamp that is lit, every face at ease, all of it declares that our efforts were not in vain."
His voice was persuasive, trying to share this hard-won peace with Ryo, to tie that towering sense of accomplishment to the boy before him.
"Together with everyone in the village, I rose early and worked late, governing with all my strength, and at last restored Konoha's former glory. This harmony, this calm, is the finest embodiment of our village's Will of Fire. Where the leaves dance, the fire is ever-burning. The guardianship of the old has bought fertile soil for the young to grow strong. I, Hiruzen, have not betrayed our forebears' hopes."
By the end, his voice quavered with emotion, his eyes moistened, as if he had poured out decades of toil from the bottom of his heart, offering a new vow to the heavens.
He fixed his gaze on Ryo, full of expectation, waiting for this boundlessly gifted boy to be moved by his confession, to pledge himself to the defense of this beautiful everything for life.
Silence pooled on the platform.
Only the wind keened across the Rock, and from below drifted the faint, busy noises of peace.
Ryo stood there, unmoved.
His crimson bangs swayed gently in the breeze.
The expected blood-stirring, tear-choking vow of fealty, none of it came.
Hiruzen's proud, waiting-for-empathy expression froze in the air for a full ten seconds.
He blinked, forcibly swallowing the flash of surprise and awkwardness rising in his chest.
What is going on?
This is not how the script goes.
Faced with such a grand Will of Fire in practice, faced with the personal account of a Kage-level powerhouse, with the village head himself speaking so earnestly, even a cold-tempered kid should say something, shouldn't he?
A single "Mm" would do.
Silence.
Ryo only looked at him quietly. That gaze was overly calm, the kind of calm one has watching an off-key street performer grind through an old routine no one wants to hear anymore.
An invisible pressure spread, not chakra, but the hollowness born of utter inner indifference and rejection.
Hiruzen even felt as if his rousing declaration had made him look like a fool.
This old monkey really thinks he has bared his heart?
Konoha? My life's work? The words echoed in Ryo's mind, and a spike of irony shot straight up his spine.
Konoha? To him it was nothing more than a comfortable perch where there was food to eat and a relatively stable environment.
Nothing more.
What did any of that have to do with him?
He thought of Mito's protection, of Tsunade's hit-or-miss teaching, and of Kushina, that troublesome girl.
But fighting and bleeding for unknown villagers below? It never crossed his mind.
Bonds?
The ones Ryo knew and needed to care about, he could count on his fingers.
As for the Hokage, that is just the headman of a village, isn't it?
Hashirama Senju, a dreamer so naive, even death couldn't end hatred. Tobirama Senju, a sharp mind who used systems to forge order, and still died to a scheme.
And this ninja hero before him?
A man living under towering shadows, coasting on ancestral shade, a mediocrity. In Ryo's eyes, not even worth a sturdy kunai.
Tooting your own horn, are we?
But Hiruzen was a political veteran. He pivoted instantly.
He coughed, and the soaring tone softened into a kindly elder's smile. He changed tack to the personal. "Ahem. To be frank, Kamiyama Ryo, I have wanted to meet you for a long time, to talk in depth."
"I still remember the year you enrolled. Because of that striking head of red hair, I personally visited Mito-sama and begged her to take a look, see if you had awakened any special Uzumaki bloodline traits."
He dredged up the past, his voice warm with an I have been quietly watching over you intimacy.
In Ryo's ears, it was just another layer of varnish.
Watching over, my ass. If I hadn't clawed my way up on my own years ago…
"But, as it turns out, Mito-sama and the rest of us all misjudged you." Hiruzen's tone turned, regret shading into admiration. His gaze shone with undisguised appreciation, as if he were beholding a long-hidden treasure newly uncovered.
"You aren't chakra-poor at all. Your gifts, your terrifying strength, are unprecedented. A true prodigy. In his day, even Tobirama-sama was hardly more than this."
He tried to close the distance with extravagant praise, deliberately invoking Tobirama to hint at Ryo's Senju lineage and emphasize a bond between them.
"That earth-shattering strike today." Hiruzen even took a small step forward, voice rising. "No draw of the blade. No hand seals. Pure physical might and the convergence of intent. Such terrifying power, such exquisite technique, such precise control. It absolutely possesses destructive force to threaten even a Kage."
His voice trembled with excitement and awe, as if the memory still sent a thrill through him. "Twelve. You are only twelve, and already you have combat strength rivaling a Kage. Ryo, do you know what this means? It means you are Konoha's truest, undisputed greatest prodigy since its founding. Your brilliance will illuminate, and protect, our shared home."
Hiruzen's voice rang like a bell, full of rhetorical fire.
He had hoisted Ryo onto the pedestal of the greatest genius in Konoha's history, painting him as the village's sole hope and guardian of the future.
A massive halo, and a crushing responsibility, lashed together.
(To be continued.)