Obito's arm was split cleanly into two.
Yun quickly used the sealing scroll again, storing the forearm portion away.
"Ahem…"
He coughed—just a little awkward—and willed it.
Activate.
[Information Exchange activated]
[Rule Replication function activated]
[Medium detected]
[Targets available to lock: Senju Hashirama (Netherworld), Uchiha Obito]
…Just like he thought.
Yun's lips curled.
So it really was one medium doing double duty.
Then a thought struck him.
Wait—what if…
He pulled out a kunai again—
"Pa!"
A soft crack.
The forearm was cut into two.
Yun stroked his chin, then raised the kunai for another chop—
"Knock knock knock!"
The door rattled.
"Yun, what are you doing in there?"
His mother's voice.
Yun startled so hard he nearly leapt out of his skin. He shoved the pale limb scraps under the bed in a panic.
"W-Wait—don't come in yet!"
"I'm coming in, okay?"
Outside, Uchiha Hazuki waited—respectful as always—for a full two minutes before opening the door.
She stepped in, glanced around, then whispered, "Keep it down. Izumi already fell asleep."
She turned to leave, but paused at the threshold, looked back, and said softly:
"Don't grow up too fast, Yun. You're still only six."
"Click."
The door shut.
Yun sat there cross-legged, completely baffled.
…What was that about?
He looked around.
Nothing seemed wrong.
Then he glanced down.
And froze.
"…Oh, damn."
A few globs of whitish "residue" had splattered onto his pants when he'd chopped the arm up earlier.
It had been a year—any blood from Hashirama cells mixed with Obito's had long dried out. Only that pale residue remained.
And of course it looked… exactly like the worst possible thing.
So, yeah.
She absolutely misunderstood.
Yun pinched the bridge of his nose.
Forget it. Deal with it later.
He steadied his mind.
Lock target: Senju Hashirama (Netherworld).
…No response.
He stared at the tiny pile of minced flesh like it had personally offended him.
"…Seriously?"
So a tiny piece wasn't enough?
He tried again—using more.
Only then—
[SS-rank ninja locked: First Hokage Senju Hashirama (Netherworld)]
[Exchange space time-flow adjusted]
[Enable Shadow Mode?]
Yun hesitated.
This time, he chose No.
But he also didn't use his own appearance.
Instead, he used Kong's—his red-haired clone's face.
The world shifted.
When Yun's vision cleared, he stood on the massive stone head of the Hokage Monument—wind sweeping past like a cold breath.
Below, Konoha lay in darkness.
Silent.
Still.
Two figures stood on the stone—Yun, and the spirit of the First Hokage.
"This is… Konoha?"
Hashirama murmured, voice low with disbelief.
Yun glanced at him.
"Bigger than your era, isn't it? This is Konoha decades after your time. It's the Konoha I live in."
Hashirama turned, stared at Yun's red hair, then tilted his head like he was piecing together a puzzle.
"Red hair… red hair…"
Then his face lit up.
"Oh! You're from the Uzumaki clan—Lady Mito's people!"
Yun's gaze stayed on the village below.
Flat. Calm. Almost indifferent.
"There's no Uzumaki clan anymore. And the Land of Whirlpools is gone too."
He added, coldly:
"And it happened while your wife Mito was still alive."
Hashirama went still.
His eyes widened, as if the wind itself had slapped him.
"…After I died… war happened again?"
His voice cracked, just barely.
"Mito… she must've been heartbroken."
Yun shook his head once.
"I don't know. I never met Lady Mito."
Then he looked back at the First Hokage.
"But shouldn't you be more curious about your own situation?"
Hashirama tapped his ghostly head, then blinked when his fingers passed right through.
"You mean this exchange space?"
He nodded slowly, thoughtful.
"Yeah. I understand the rules already. No lying, right? And trading."
Then he sighed and spread his hands.
"But I'm dead. I don't really want to trade."
He looked at Yun again—at the red hair—and then bowed deeply, a full ninety degrees, utterly sincere.
"Even if it's useless… I still want to apologize."
"Senju and Uzumaki were the firmest allies. The Land of Whirlpools was Konoha's closest friend from the start."
He spoke as if reciting an oath carved into his bones.
"The Uzumaki swirl on Konoha's flak jackets—that symbol is supposed to represent that friendship."
He clenched his teeth.
"I don't know why Konoha's successors didn't come to your aid."
"But as First Hokage… I have to say it."
His voice hit the stone like a vow.
"I'm sorry."
Yun stared at him, suddenly… embarrassed.
He'd chosen "Uzumaki" as a mask to scam benefits.
And Hashirama—just like the legends, just like the stories—was painfully straightforward.
Yun exhaled.
Then he dropped a bomb.
"Madara… didn't die."
Hashirama's head snapped up.
At the same time, the wind twisted, the air shivered, and leaves formed one single word in midair:
[TRUE]
Hashirama shook his head hard.
"I killed Madara myself. I pierced his heart. Tobirama buried the body."
Yun's voice didn't waver.
"Izanagi."
"An Uchiha dōjutsu. It turns reality you don't want into a 'dream.'"
"And if it activates with a delay…"
"…you can resurrect."
Hashirama's spirit trembled.
The air wrote again:
[TRUE]
To Hashirama, there were many things in this world worth protecting.
But only two things that could never, ever be allowed to break.
Peace.
And Konoha.
In truth, they were the same thing.
Hashirama stared at the silent village below.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Finally, he let out a slow breath and rubbed his face—only for his hand to pass through his own cheek.
He lowered it, stared at his transparent palm with a bitter smile.
"I'm dead," he said quietly.
"Even if I trade with you… what can I do?"
Yun raised a hand.
The darkness over Konoha rippled.
And then—
ROOOAAAR!
A flood of violent, hateful chakra exploded into the village.
The Nine-Tails rampaged through Konoha, tearing streets apart like paper.
Inside its eyes—
a Sharingan pattern spun.
Screams rose.
Ninja rushed in.
Bodies fell.
The village broke.
Yun lowered his hand again.
The scene vanished like smoke.
"That," he said, "was the original history."
Then he looked at Hashirama.
"The Second Hokage created a jutsu."
"Edo Tensei."
"It can summon the dead from the Netherworld."
Hashirama's expression sharpened.
Yun continued, voice measured:
"Tobirama probably never dared to tell you everything about it."
"But the release method—"
"And with the strength of the God of Shinobi…"
"…I don't think it would be hard for you to figure it out."
He paused.
Then, calmly:
"So trade with me."
"For Konoha."
Hashirama stared down at the village again—at what it could be, and what it had once become.
His shoulders sank.
He sat on the stone, head lowered, silent for a long time.
Finally, he looked up.
"Then tell me."
"Who are you? And what do you want?"
He said the last words like he was naming him properly.
"A broker of information… from the Uzumaki."
Yun smiled faintly, eyes turned toward the endless darkness beyond the monument.
"I just want to live."
"If I have enough power, then I'll live well."
"When I'm tired, I rest."
"When I'm hungry, I go out and eat—barbecue, ramen… even dango, though I don't really like sweets."
His voice softened—just a little.
"And if I can…"
"If I can make this world calm…"
"No war. No slaughter."
"Sleep until I wake naturally."
"Eat, drink, enjoy life."
He tilted his head, as if asking a simple question.
"How's that for a goal?"
Then he tapped his own chest lightly.
"As for my identity…"
He smiled.
"Uzumaki Kong."
"That's my name."
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