Roy glanced at Minato and didn't move.
"I'll listen to my teacher."
"Minato…" Hiruzen's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
Minato looked from one to the other, then smiled and put his kunai away. "Ren—if the Hokage wants you, then go. Leaving for the front won't change just because it's two days later. You've got plenty of time ahead."
Besides, the boy's talent in space-time ninjutsu was absurd. Minato's lake-blue eyes flickered—he'd probably have to whisper a few things to Kushina in bed and go "borrow a meal" at Fugaku's place more often.
Seeing that, Roy shoved a hand into his pocket, expressionless, and followed behind Hiruzen as they strolled toward the edge of the Southern Forest….
It was nearing noon. The sun was blazing.
Old and young, one in front and one behind, they left the forest, crossed the streets, rode the breeze, and climbed straight up to Hokage Rock. Neither spoke until—
Hiruzen stopped first, standing atop his own stone face, and turned back.
"You've got anger in your heart?"
Roy stopped too. Beneath his feet was the statue of Hashirama Senju gazing over Konoha. He answered blandly, "It's hard to feel happy when you're being watched."
"Watching every young ninja's growth is my duty as headmaster."
"Then tell me, Hokage-sama—did you see it?"
"I did," Hiruzen said, staring hard at Roy. "And it startled me."
He sat down cross-legged and patted the empty space beside him, beckoning Roy over.
Roy sat without ceremony. His legs dangled off the cliffside, gently swinging. His bangs swayed in the wind, and there was something about him—loose, unbothered, yet hard to read.
Hiruzen glanced at him and, for an instant, remembered his own youth. Compared to this boy… his younger self felt like nothing.
"Ren."
"Speak."
"Tell me, can you? Who is your teacher?" Hiruzen looked out over Konoha's blue sky, bright sun, and drifting clouds. "And don't say Fugaku. You know he couldn't have taught you to be like this."
Swordsmanship that could trade blows with Sakumo. Casual, effortless no-sign techniques. Space-time talent that bordered on insanity. On top of that—Yang Release, and an awareness sharp enough to pierce the Telescope Technique at first glance….
The boy was a mystery. Every time he revealed even a corner of himself, it was something most jōnin would never reach in a lifetime.
Fugaku couldn't do this.
Hiruzen doubted even he—plus the First and Second Hokage—could produce a child like this.
Otherwise, Asuma wouldn't still only be a chūnin.
Just thinking about it made him feel embarrassed.
"Teacher?" Roy murmured. "I've had a lot."
He thought of Urokodaki Sakonji. Of Bisky. Of his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather. Of Ging. Of Genryūsai Yamamoto. People who had taught him, challenged him, or simply left him a line that changed his path.
In the end, he chose one word.
"Dream."
Roy lazily swung his legs. "I study with my teachers in dreams."
"They don't call me stupid. For that, I'm deeply grateful."
A shaft of sunlight fell cleanly down over Hokage Rock.
Hiruzen listened—and though the answer was absurd, his instincts told him Roy was telling the truth.
"Hoh hoh hoh…" The old man laughed under his breath. He removed the Hokage hat and set it beside him, then stroked his black-and-white goatee. "If they can be your teachers… they must be extraordinary people."
"They are," Roy said, letting the breeze slip through his fingers. He smiled. "That's why I think I'm lucky."
Hiruzen paused, then said seriously, "They're lucky too."
"To have a student like you… I'm sure they'd say the same."
Images flickered through Roy's mind—Urokodaki's gaze before Final Selection, his great-grandfather's guidance when he first learned Ren, his father's embrace in a dream, his grandfather sizing him up in a corridor, Ging's gift, Bisky's advice, Yamamoto's first meeting drawn by "gratitude"….
Roy leaned back against the rough rock and stared at the sun through the gaps of his fingers. After a while, he said, "You didn't drag me up here just to chat with a kid who isn't even a ninja yet."
Hiruzen, facing the bustling market district below, replied like he couldn't get enough of the view. "Correction. I approved your early graduation. Strictly speaking, you're a proper genin now."
"I didn't agree."
"You don't need to." Hiruzen turned, eyes gleaming with a headmaster's smugness. "I'm the principal. I decide."
Roy rolled his eyes and shut them.
Hiruzen chuckled, unbothered. "Of course, I brought you here to answer your question."
Roy didn't respond.
Hiruzen continued, "Last time at the academy, you asked me whether Konoha's 'fire' includes the Uchiha. Now…"
He looked up at the bright sky and spoke slowly. "That depends on the Uchiha."
"Or rather—on what you think."
"Me?" Roy said, eyes still closed, hands behind his head. "Hokage-sama, aren't you asking the wrong person?"
"I'm not. I'm asking you."
Roy finally opened his eyes. He met Hiruzen's gaze and raised a brow. "You're serious?"
Hiruzen's face hardened. "Of course."
"You're different," he said, eyes deep. "Uchiha Ren—you're not like the others."
For an instant, Roy wondered if his secret of helping the clan awaken their eyes had leaked—then rejected it. Fugaku and Uchiha Setsuna had personally planted Tongue Curse Eradication; if it had been broken, there would have been signs.
But one thing was now clear:
Hiruzen had set his sights on him.
Roy closed his eyes again and pretended to nap. Hiruzen didn't care. He spread his sleeve, drew out his pipe, and only after packing it with tobacco did he lean in and extend it.
"Got a light?"
"No." Roy rolled over and turned his back. "Smoking is bad for your health. Even kids know that."
"But it helps with fatigue." Since Roy refused, Hiruzen lit it himself. Puff. "Being Hokage is busy. I wish a day had forty-eight hours."
He exhaled a slow smoke ring and leaned back, pleased. "So. Tell me."
"Uchiha or village. Pick one."
Like you force Shisui. Like you'll force Itachi. Like you'll force every Uchiha who shows even a hint of talent—must it always be "us and them"?
Roy's mouth curled in sharp contempt.
"Doesn't matter what I think. If you can't control your own village, then don't shove your incompetence onto the Uchiha."
The words landed like an explosion.
Hiruzen's pipe hand froze.
Roy stood up, feet planted on Hashirama's stone face, sunlight draped over him like a cloak. He looked down at Hiruzen—calm, cold.
"You asked, so I'm answering."
"I'll choose when I want."
"And when I don't want to… I won't."
"Are you satisfied?"
Silence.
On Hokage Rock, under the noon sun, one old man sitting and one boy standing stared at each other. The air felt frozen solid.
At last, Hiruzen took another drag, forcing down the surge in his chest. He side-eyed Roy.
"You can be as willful as you like—if you have the strength to back it up."
"If you were as strong as the one you're standing on…" he nodded at Hashirama's face beneath Roy's feet, "…then even if you demanded the Hokage seat, I wouldn't frown. I'd hand it to you."
The unspoken question hung in the air:
But can you?
There was only one "God of Shinobi." Only Hashirama.
Roy shook his head. "I'm not him. I can't become him."
Hiruzen's shoulders loosened—just a little.
"Hmph. Good. At least you understand."
Roy didn't argue. He opened his palm, released a thread of "nen" as water and earth, and fused them—
A wooden staff formed in his hand. He planted it on the rock.
Dust puffed up.
Hiruzen's eyes widened. His mouth fell open.
"You… can use Wood Release?"
"It's not exactly 'can,'" Roy said flatly. "I only learned it recently. I'm still feeling it out."
He lifted his hand again. A wooden sword formed—his mind drifting to Itachi's birthday and the god-script wooden blade he wanted to make.
Then he felt weight—two rough, calloused hands clamped down on his shoulders.
Hiruzen stood up and leaned close, staring at Roy like he'd found a priceless treasure.
"I should have realized. If you can use Yang Release, it's not impossible for you to reach Wood Release…."
He paused, then his voice dropped, decisive.
"Uchiha Ren. I'm saying it again—starting today, you're confined."
Roy's expression darkened. "I want a reason."
"My order is the reason." Hiruzen put the Hokage hat back on. The huge red fire character was a stamp of authority that didn't allow negotiation.
Roy turned on his heel and left in a fury.
Behind him, Hiruzen called out, "You know I can monitor you anytime."
A burst of light flashed—
Roy didn't even bother jumping. He simply became light, flickered once, twice, three times, and vanished beyond Hiruzen's view.
"Brat…" Hiruzen muttered with a helpless laugh.
Then he remembered his pipe, scrambled down, and found it snapped in half. He winced like someone had stabbed him.
Still—breaking a pipe to confirm Wood Release was a trade he'd take.
Clutching the broken pipe, Hiruzen hurried back toward the Hokage Tower.
Old and young split through the lively market district like parallel lines that would never meet again—
Unaware that on a nearby tree, a pale white snake emerged, slit pupils gleaming. It flicked its tongue once, then silently slid after Roy's trail… winding toward the Southern Forest.
~~~
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