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Chapter 49: Uninvited Guests
Rubik's figure materialized in the living room of the Momonogi household, appearing directly on the Flying Thunder God seal.
"I'm back," he said softly, his voice carrying a trace of post-battle weariness, but more than that, the calm of a mission accomplished.
Momonogi, who had been waiting anxiously at home, felt her eyes immediately well up the moment she saw Rubik's figure, crystal tears threatening to spill over.
Rubik closed the distance in a single stride, his warm index finger pressing gently yet firmly against her soft lips—just in time to stem the impending sob.
"Shh..." A familiar smile spread across his face. "This isn't the time for tears, Momonogi. Times like this call for smiles."
Feeling the warmth of his fingertip and sensing that Rubik was safe and sound, Momonogi's taut nerves finally relaxed. She sniffled, fought down the tears, and nodded vigorously at Rubik, her lips curving upward into a smile that—though still trembling—was radiantly bright.
Rubik ruffled her hair and made a brief farewell: "Wait for me. I need to go let my master and the others know I'm okay, or they'll be worried sick."
The next moment, he leaped straight out the window.
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Outside the Root Organization's Barrier
Jiraiya was pacing restlessly, Tsunade stood with her arms crossed, her expression dark as she stared fixedly at the silent barrier, and Kakashi appeared calm as he leaned against a broken wall—but his clenched fists betrayed his inner turmoil. Might Guy, meanwhile, was doing exaggerated stretches nearby in a futile attempt to ease the tension.
Whoosh!
Rubik's figure appeared out of nowhere right in front of Jiraiya.
"You little brat!" Jiraiya froze for a second, then erupted in a thunderous roar. His massive palm came down with a whoosh and landed—without mercy, with full force—squarely on Rubik's head.
"Hey! What gives, oww!" Rubik clutched his head and crouched down, letting out a theatrical squawk, his face twisted in exaggerated pain.
"Knew you wouldn't die that easily!" Jiraiya's scowl instantly vanished, replaced by his signature boisterous grin as he gave Rubik's shoulder a hearty slap—nearly sending him sprawling again. "You had us worried sick for nothing!"
Kakashi's tense frame finally relaxed, the breath he'd been holding released in a long, almost inaudible sigh of relief, as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He seemed to slump slightly against the broken wall.
Watching Rubik's profile—so strikingly similar to Obito's, right down to the way he complained about Jiraiya hitting too hard in the sunset glow—a flicker of complex pain and resolve passed through the depths of Kakashi's eyes.
Obito... Rin... He silently clenched his fist, making a vow in his heart: This time, I will never let tragedy repeat itself. Never!
"Yo! Rubik! Just as I expected from a comrade burning with youthful passion! I knew you'd work a miracle!" Might Guy instantly appeared beside Rubik, flashing his signature thumbs-up, his gleaming teeth practically sparkling in the sunset—brighter than the sun itself.
Tsunade let out a hum, her eyes sweeping over Rubik to confirm he hadn't lost any limbs, and her stern expression softened slightly: "Good. No serious injuries."
After the brief reunion and confirmation, the atmosphere grew solemn once more. As the core members who had spearheaded the assault on the Root base, exposed Danzo's conspiracy, and ultimately ended it, Jiraiya, Tsunade, Kakashi Hatake, and Uzumaki Rubik all headed together toward the Konoha Hospital.
They needed to report the outcome of this battle fought in the shadows—a result that would determine Konoha's future—to the Third Hokage, who had just been released from his sickbed and was awaiting their news.
The familiar scent of disinfectant hung in the air of Konoha Hospital, the corridor silent save for their footsteps. A monumental upheaval had, at long last, come to an end.
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Konoha Hospital, Private Room
The room was filled with the faint smell of tobacco. Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi listened quietly as Jiraiya, Tsunade, Kakashi, and Rubik delivered their full report on the events at the Root base. His head hung low, his graying hair dull under the light, the ember in his pipe flickering between his fingers.
He took a long drag, letting the harsh smoke swirl in his lungs, as if trying to suppress the heavy mixture of grief, relief, and bone-deep exhaustion weighing on him.
After a long pause, he slowly raised his head, forcing a gentle smile onto his weathered face, and let his gaze sweep over the four before him.
"You've all worked hard... truly... worked hard." His voice was hoarse, carrying a sense of emptiness, as though a great burden had been lifted, and was laced with profound apology. "I'm sorry... that you had to witness your old Hokage in such a pitiful state."
Kakashi immediately bowed slightly, his voice behind the mask filled with sincere respect and a hint of reassurance: "Lord Third, please don't say that. You were deceived by Danzo as well... the fault isn't yours."
The Third shook his head firmly, his eyes growing deeper, as though piercing through the hospital walls to see Konoha's past and future. "No, Kakashi." His voice was low but powerful, carrying an undeniable weight. "Everyone in Konoha can blame him, curse him, hate him... and that's only right." He paused; the pipe's ember reflected the unfathomable complexity in his eyes. "But I alone—Hiruzen Sarutobi—cannot. I must not."
His words hung heavy in the air.
The Third briefly touched on the next steps for handling the aftermath, then turned his gaze to Kakashi and Rubik, a gentle smile returning to his tired face. "Kakashi, Rubik—you truly went above and beyond this time, especially you, Rubik." His gaze lingered on Rubik for a moment, carrying a subtle depth. "Now, this old man has some things he'd like to discuss privately with these two disciples of mine, whom I rarely get to see together. You two go rest—the mission is over."
Kakashi and Rubik exchanged a glance, instantly understanding each other: the Third wanted to "catch up" with his long-absent students.
"Yes, Lord Third."
"Of course, Grandmaster."
They bowed in unison and exited the room, gently closing the door behind them.
In the hallway, Kakashi let out an audible sigh of relief, his taut nerves finally unwinding. Rubik stretched, his joints popping.
They had just stepped out of the hospital, about to part ways—
"Hey, you little brat!" Jiraiya's voice suddenly rang out from behind, carrying a mischievous edge. He had apparently slipped out as well, and was now sidling up with a sly grin, sneakily extending a foot toward Rubik's calf in an attempt to trip him!
Rubik, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, smirked knowingly. Instead of dodging, he lifted his foot and—
THUD!
—brought it down with all his might, stomping squarely on Jiraiya's outstretched foot!
"OWWWW—!!!" A muffled, agonized yelp escaped Jiraiya's throat. He clutched his foot, hopping on one leg, his face turning purple as he tried to hold back a scream, not wanting to alert the hospital staff—his forehead veins bulging from the effort.
"Tch, old pervert. Pulling childish pranks at your age? Serves you right." Rubik shot him a disdainful look, dusted off his hands with satisfaction, and turned away, ignoring the hopping Jiraiya behind him.
Kakashi watched the scene, the corner of his mouth twitching beneath his mask. He shook his head helplessly and walked in the same direction as Rubik.
---
Konoha Hospital, Inside the Room
Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi watched his white-haired disciple clutching his foot and grimacing while hopping around, and couldn't stop an involuntary vein from bulging on his forehead. His grip on his pipe tightened, finally releasing into a long, weary sigh: "Aah..."
In stark contrast to the Third's stormy expression, Tsunade stood with her arms crossed, the corner of her mouth curving upward. Her eyes sparkled with undisguised schadenfreude and... a hint of curiosity.
Watching Jiraiya's absurdly pained expression, Tsunade felt a slight stir in her heart.
Was it just my imagination? She mused. Over the past few years, this idiot dead-last had indeed undergone some subtle but profound changes. No longer was he the man whose surface clowning masked a soul perpetually burdened by "Child of Prophecy" and "world peace"—lofty concepts that had always weighed him down.
The Jiraiya before her now, though still irreverent and childish in his antics, seemed to have shed much of the gloom that once clung to him. It was as if he had rediscovered a trace of his youthful, playful self. This change brought Tsunade a strange sense of... ease, and she couldn't help but enjoy it.
Jiraiya finally recovered from the sharp pain, dropped his foot, rubbed his face theatrically, and plastered on his trademark carefree grin, as if nothing had happened.
He swaggered over to the Third's bedside and plopped down in a chair, crossing his legs—the uninjured one, naturally.
"Heh heh, old man, don't get so worked up. Just having a little fun with the kid." He joked, then a glint of seriousness flashed in his pupils. "Alright, enough fooling around. You kept us both here—there's no way this is just a friendly chat."
The Third didn't answer right away. The only sound in the room was the faint crackle of burning tobacco. He was silent, his gaze sweeping slowly over Jiraiya's face—the one that masked resilience beneath frivolity—and Tsunade's contemplative expression. This silence made Jiraiya's grin fade a little, and he unconsciously sat up straighter.
At last, the Third took a deep drag and exhaled slowly. The curling smoke blurred his aged eyes. He set down his pipe, folded his hands on his lap, leaned forward slightly, and faced Jiraiya with an unprecedented gravity.
His voice was low, yet exceptionally clear and steady, each word falling like a stone into a still pond, sending ripples through the silent room:
"Jiraiya." He paused, as if marshaling all his resolve and hope. "I want..." His gaze was resolute. "—for you to become the Fifth Hokage of Konohagakure."
---
The setting sun gilded the sky, casting a gentle veil over the reborn Konohagakure. The village, still under reconstruction, possessed a strange beauty in the twilight.
Yet beneath this tranquil surface—woven with scars and new beginnings—shadows were quietly closing in.
Far to the south, beyond Konoha's clamor, on the edge of an unremarkable town at the border of the Land of Fire, wind swept dry dust across a somewhat dilapidated street. The sunset stained its rooftops and earthen walls a similar shade, but carried a bleak, lonely air.
At the town's entrance, three figures materialized silently. They wore matching broad black cloaks that billowed in the evening breeze. The crimson clouds emblazoned on the fabric stood out starkly in the fading light.
Uninvited guests had arrived.