Hiruzen Sarutobi was deeply worried about the crisis in the Uzumaki lands, yet when he saw Mito Uzumaki's calm and composed demeanor, his anxiety immediately eased.
He did not rush into official business. Instead, out of respect for her wishes, he quieted his mind and silently enjoyed the two seemingly ordinary cups of tea.
The first pot brewed its first infusion.
Its flavor was rich yet subtle nothing extraordinary but undeniably tea, with no distracting aroma to take away from its essence.
The second cup was made by pouring the first infusion into the second pot and steeping it again.
The leaves in the second pot, originally crisp and astringent, softened after the first brew. The rich, balanced flavor smoothed out the roughness of the leaves.
The result was fragrant and smooth, with a subtle sweetness that lingered on the tongue.
Hiruzen shared these thoughts in a calm, measured voice.
Mito listened quietly, nodding gently in approval.
Without a word, she opened the third package of fresh tea leaves, placed them in the plain third pot, and poured in boiling water.
As the water hit the leaves, a refreshing aroma filled the air.
She poured a clear brew into the fairness cup and then poured one for Hiruzen as well.
They drank in silence.
"I chose these two sets of leaves to honor the First and Second Hokage," she said.
"These clay pots, too, I made myself."
"If you only steep the first pot with hot water, the tea is mild; steep the second pot alone, it becomes bitter."
"Only by blending the two infusions can the full flavor be realized."
"I know this because I have tasted it myself."
"But I do not yet know what the third pot will become, so I left it plain a piece of jade waiting for its own design."
"Let it choose the leaves, let it carve its own pattern."
She could only say that blending the first two beans makes a good cup of coffee.
"That is all."
After speaking, Mito lifted her head, her gaze tender and full of the deepest hope a senior can hold for the next generation, fixed on Hiruzen Sarutobi.
"Honestly, monkey, I am old. The Yin Seal may preserve my appearance, but my senses are limited by the taste of those two teas blended together."
"As for you, the flavor you seek… you must pursue it yourself and give it your own name."
Hiruzen understood fully the weight of the mission she entrusted to him.
A clear, unwavering sense of responsibility pressed on his shoulders, accompanied by the bittersweet agony of complete trust a trust that made him tremble.
He finished the last sip of tea, as if swallowing a promise.
He inhaled deeply, steadying his trembling voice, and replied as calmly as he could:
"I understand."
Then, composed, he began his report:
"I am here to inform you that the Uzumaki lands have been attacked by other villages. At dawn tomorrow, we will send a team to investigate and provide assistance if necessary."
"Then I will take my leave."
After speaking, he rose and bowed respectfully, ready to depart.
"Wait," Mito called, pointing to the plain pot.
"Take it with you. When the moment moves you, carve a few lines upon it this is a gift from these old bones."
"The leaves you brought, I will keep. You know I cherish them, so I will not insist on formality."
With practiced hands, she retrieved a silk-lined box and a soft cloth, and quickly wrapped the pot.
Hiruzen hesitated, then accepted the gift with both hands, fully aware that this was more than a clay pot: it was her trust in him to shape the future.
That trust surged in his heart precious and heavy resolving him to create something that would make her and every Hokage proud.
He vowed to pass that trust on, to trust his comrades as fully as she had trusted him.
Before dawn the next day,
the Anbu moved like shadows through Konoha, summoning Byakko Seijitsu and the other two to the village gates.
Tsukihime leapt out of bed, immediately running toward the summons.
He shrugged on his dark-blue ninja uniform, tightened the belt to accentuate his lean figure, and couldn't help but smile at his reflection.
He stomped into his boots, laces secured tightly around his ankles.
The metal of his Konoha forehead protector hissed slightly, focusing his attention.
He opened his gear locker.
Kunai and shuriken slid into the leg pockets with mechanical precision; a scroll of fast-acting poison went into his backpack.
Every movement was exact, without waste.
He flung the door open and darted into the night.
Roofs and alleys blurred beneath his rapid steps, a shadow tearing through the last darkness.
Cats and dogs only felt a gust of wind as he vanished.
The massive village gates loomed ahead. He skidded to a halt, dust swirling around his sandals.
"Hey, you're slow to react," Rope Tree teased, his eyes bright even in the late hour.
"Master Maito, Mr. Rope Tree, you arrived early. The Anbu found me first, yet here you are before me," Tsukihime replied.
"I live nearby, that's all. Mr. Daimate was already here before I arrived," Rope Tree said with a grin. "Ha! I just finished five hundred laps of warm-up training this morning, and the Anbu caught me at the training ground!"
Tsukihime was about to reply when a cold voice cut through:
"Enough talk." Shikimaru Hatake stood before them, cloak slightly billowing. "I am your jonin commander. Move out."
He vanished into the pre-dawn fields outside the village.
A streak of white light, like a freshly drawn blade, lingered briefly in the air.
"Move!" Tsukihime panted.
Rope Tree chased after him immediately.
Even more astonishing, Daimate followed Shikimaru step for step, demonstrating the astonishing power of his physical skills.