The Third Hokage — Sarutobi Hiruzen — was dead.
Executed publicly, beneath Konoha's sky.
Aside from Iwagakure, every major shinobi village sent observers to witness the spectacle. None dared to send anyone important — only a few jōnin or chūnin at most.
Everyone knew Danzo Shimura's reputation; the old vulture was a walking conspiracy. Who could say this "public execution" wasn't a trap meant to lure foreign envoys into Konoha's grasp?
Konoha was cornered by three great villages at once, and in Danzo's wildest dreams, capturing their elite agents would be the ultimate prize.
"The Land of Fire really lives up to its name… strength, wealth, population — it's got everything," murmured Pakura of Sunagakure, walking along the crowded streets of Konoha's capital.
Her golden-orange eyes shimmered like jewels as she gazed around with quiet admiration. "Compared to this, the Land of Wind really does feel barren."
Her long, gradient hair was tied neatly into a braid that swung behind her back. Despite the tight, practical design of her backless combat uniform, it somehow emphasized every graceful curve of her body. Her beauty drew the gaze of nearly everyone who passed — admiration from women, desire from men.
But no one dared approach her. Even here in Konoha, a foreign jōnin was not to be trifled with — especially one from Sunagakure's upper ranks.
"Tch. These pampered Fire Country bastards don't deserve all this!" one of the three chūnin following Pakura grumbled.
"Yeah! Someday, the Land of Fire will belong to us, the shinobi of Sunagakure!" another added, puffing his chest with bravado.
The third, eyes burning with envy, sneered, "We'll kill every Konoha man and take their women for ourselves!"
Pakura's brows twitched.
She didn't turn around immediately. Truth be told, she understood their frustration.
How could she not?
The Land of Fire was a paradise of forests, rivers, and fertile land. Meanwhile, Sunagakure lived in a sea of endless dunes and choking sandstorms. Water was scarce, food was scarcer, and even the sky looked pale and sickly under the desert sun.
Still…
"Watch your tongues," Pakura said softly, her voice carrying a sharp undertone. "This is Konoha's territory. Walls here have ears."
The three chūnin instantly stiffened.
"Y-yes, Pakura-sama!"
Her calm authority silenced them more effectively than any threat. Despite her beauty, she was a jōnin whose strength and reputation in Sunagakure were unquestionable — one of the strongest kunoichi their village had ever produced.
Pakura sighed quietly, shaking her head.
They were young — still curious, still foolish, dazzled by the sights of a land that actually had color.
"Fine," she said finally. "Go explore if you must. But listen carefully — you're to return to the hotel before evening. If you miss tomorrow's public execution, I'll personally skin you alive. Understood?"
Their eyes lit up.
"Yes, Pakura-sama!"
"Long live Lady Pakura!"
"We won't miss it! A Hokage's public execution — that's a once-in-a-lifetime event!"
Before she could say another word, the trio bolted off — toward what was unmistakably the red-light district and a row of casinos.
"Those idiots…" she muttered, rubbing her temple.
For ninjas, life was a gamble from the moment they first tied their headband.
High risk, high stress — and death was always one mission away.
So, most didn't bother saving up. They'd rather enjoy the moment — drinking, gambling, and visiting brothels whenever they could.
If they didn't bully the weak or massacre civilians, people already considered them "decent."
"Then, let me take a walk too," Pakura said with a light smile.
She paid no mind to her three subordinates anymore and began strolling through the streets of Konoha, her golden eyes lighting up at the sight of countless stalls and shops.
Even though she was one of the most outstanding kunoichi in Sunagakure — a jōnin recognized across the continent — she was still a young woman in her early twenties.
Girls like her couldn't resist shopping, good food, or cute clothes, no matter how deadly they were on the battlefield.
Before long, Pakura's hands were full — a dozen paper bags filled with clothes, a skewer in one hand, and a stick of sugar-coated dango in the other.
She looked perfectly content, her expression bright and relaxed…
until a murmur from nearby caught her ear.
"Hey, did you hear? There's some kind of amazing fortune teller in the next street!"
"Yeah! He predicted that Koizumi Ichiro would break his leg today — and the guy actually did! Then he said Takehiko Araki would win three bets in a row, and it happened again! The man's a total miracle worker!"
"No way… could he be some kind of ninja using divination techniques?"
Pakura blinked, chewing slowly on her skewer.
A fortune teller?
Her instincts sharpened immediately. Could it be a setup? A trap meant to bait her curiosity?
Someone trying to lure the envoy from Sunagakure?
She didn't sense any killing intent, but old habits died hard.
Even so, rather than confront them outright, she quietly melted into the crowd, concealing her chakra and following from a distance.
Heh. Even if it's a trap, I'll crush it head-on.
She wasn't bragging — she could.
In Sunagakure, only the Fourth Kazekage could confidently claim to be stronger than her.
After a few turns, she found the crowd: a noisy circle of civilians, mostly gamblers and merchants, gathered around someone in the center.
"Is it really divination?" Pakura muttered, narrowing her eyes.
It didn't feel like a conspiracy. The people's excitement seemed genuine — loud, sweaty, and utterly human.
Still, she scoffed softly.
As a ninja, she had no faith in fortune-telling. The future was written by blood and blade, not cards and incense.
Probably just some smooth-talking charlatan using genjutsu to scam them.
She turned slightly, ready to leave.
And then —
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him.
The "fortune teller."
And her mind went completely blank.
Handsome.
Beautiful.
Too damn good-looking!
Forgive Pakura — who had been killing men on the battlefield since she was ten — for her lack of refined vocabulary.
But there were no better words in her arsenal.
The man's appearance was simply unreal — his expression calm and warm, yet carrying that faint, dangerous charm that drew the eyes of everyone around him.
Even Pakura of the Scorch Release, who had always prided herself on her beauty, couldn't help but feel… outmatched.
What the hell…? How can a man look like that? she thought, lips twitching. Is he one of those pretty boys reserved for nobles?
There's a saying — when people see something flawless, they get the urge to ruin it a little, just to make it feel real.
And in that moment, for the first time in her life, Pakura felt a wild, ridiculous impulse:
I should kidnap this man back to Sunagakure.
She didn't even know why. It was just… instinct.
And then, as if reading her thoughts, the man suddenly turned his head toward her — and smiled.
A calm, confident, knowing smile.
"Hey," he said softly, voice smooth enough to make her heartbeat skip. "You're Pakura, the Scorch Release jōnin from Sunagakure… right?"
The man's tone was gentle.
Yet that softness sent a chill straight down Pakura's spine, snapping her out of the strange daze she'd just been in.
He knew her name.
Her instincts screamed.
So it really was a trap!
But where was the ambush?
Why couldn't she sense any killing intent?
Was he the only enemy?
Without hesitation, Pakura drew her kunai. Her chakra surged, and several blazing fireballs of her Scorch Release flared into existence around her.
Her golden eyes darted across the street, searching for hidden attackers—yet there was no one.
No chakra signatures, no movement.
Just the man.
The man who was still smiling at her.
Then, he slowly lifted his hand—and waved.
"—!"
A gust of wind roared through the street.
Whoosh!
In an instant, the dozen civilians who had been crowding around him—laughing, begging for their fortunes—were reduced to nothing but bloody mist.
Their bodies didn't even hit the ground whole—only droplets and fragments scattered like red petals across the cobblestone.
Pakura froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
"W–What the hell?! How did you kill them!?"
Her voice trembled despite her effort to sound composed.
The man didn't even blink.
"Everything in this world is born with an end," he said softly. "A destined moment of death—its point of demise. What I do is simple: I strike that point directly. When you hit the death line, even time and defense become meaningless."
He raised a single finger.
"Like this."
Pakura's fireballs flared—then popped like bubbles.
Poof! Poof! Poof!
They didn't explode or fade.
They were erased.
Her pupils contracted.
He had just killed her jutsu.
That's impossible…!
The realization hit her like thunder.
This wasn't ninjutsu.
This was something beyond human understanding.
The man smiled again, his voice calm and almost playful.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Nerona Jaeger. I'm not from this world… I came from another planet."
Pakura blinked, completely thrown off.
He didn't even care whether she understood.
"I used my future vision," Jaeger continued lightly, "and I saw your fate—your tragic death, and… your connection to me. That's why we're meeting here. Even without looking for you, destiny still brought you before me."
He chuckled softly.
"Strange, isn't it?"
Pakura opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Her normally sharp mind felt muddled.
This man—this monster—was talking nonsense about future visions and planetary origins, but the blood on the ground and the erased flames said enough.
Whatever he was… he wasn't ordinary.
Against her better judgment, she spoke:
"You said… you saw my future. What did you see?"
Jaeger's grin widened slightly.
"Of course. Let me show you."
He raised his hand, tracing glowing symbols into the air—runes of some unknown origin.
Pakura's body tensed instantly.
Her chakra flared again as she prepared for an attack.
But instead of striking, the symbols twisted together, forming a rectangular shape that floated mid-air.
Her eyes widened.
"A… screen?!"
The image shimmered like a mirage, flickering into focus.
A television — appearing out of thin air, without any seals, without chakra, without even a power source.
"How… how does that even work without electricity?" she blurted out in shock.
Jaeger's expression curved into an amused smirk.
"Ah, right. You're a jōnin from Sunagakure — one of the 'educated elites,' as they call you. It's normal for you to be surprised."
He gave a faint, teasing laugh. "Though, hearing modern words like 'television' and 'electricity' in a world where people still use chakra wires… it never stops feeling weird."
Still smiling, Jaeger flicked his fingers, and the screen lit up—displaying scenes like a film in fast-forward.
"Now, watch."
Pakura's breath hitched.
The first scene showed her — standing beside the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa.
Then came the scenes that followed the history she knew.
Sunagakure's alliance with Kirigakure…
The false mission…
The betrayal.
She saw herself ambushed by Mist ninja, cut down and bleeding out in a sea of fog.
Her expression hardened, hands trembling slightly.
And then—
The images changed.
The familiar story diverged.
A different scene appeared.
The wounded Pakura was trying to escape when she encountered the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
Even at full strength, they were monsters.
And in her state, she didn't stand a chance.
Her on-screen self fought desperately, explosions of Scorch Release lighting the mist—until, from the shadows, another figure appeared.
Jaeger.
Like a god descending upon the battlefield, Jaeger simply waved his hand a few times—
and the legendary Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist were erased from existence.
Not defeated.
Not killed by jutsu.
Just… gone.
Reduced to the same unrecognizable paste as the civilians moments ago.
Pakura stared, speechless. The image continued to play.
The tone suddenly shifted—like someone had switched genres mid-episode.
Now, Jaeger was her savior.
Pakura, betrayed by her village, lost faith in Sunagakure and turned her back on the life of a shinobi.
The scenes that followed looked straight out of a romance anime.
She and Jaeger met again.
They lived together.
They fell in love.
And for a while, they were… happy.
Then the playback ended.
"..."
Pakura's expression was complicated, to say the least.
"This has to be an illusion," she muttered. "No way this is real."
The first part—her betrayal—made sense. She knew Sunagakure and Kirigakure were negotiating behind closed doors. Betrayal wasn't impossible.
But the second half?
Way too fake.
Her eye twitched.
"If I were betrayed by the village, I wouldn't run away and cry somewhere! I'd burn the entire place to ash!" she snapped. "What you showed me doesn't match my personality at all!"
Her chakra flared again—rings of blazing orbs spinning around her.
"Speak! Why are you using illusions to deceive me?"
Jaeger only smiled, tilting his head slightly.
"So… you think it's an illusion, not the real future? Then…"
His eyes gleamed.
"What if it isn't?"
A ripple of energy flashed in his pupils—then the screen lit up again.
"Wait, what now—hey, hey, hey!" Pakura's tone changed instantly. "Something's wrong with this one! Okay! Fine! I believe you, it's not an illusion! Turn it off already!"
Her cheeks flushed red as new images filled the air.
This time, it wasn't a romance.
It was… something else.
She tried to destroy the screen with her Scorch Release, but every time her chakra flared, it died before touching Jaeger. Her attacks were snuffed out like candles in the wind.
So she could only watch—utterly powerless—as the "future" played on.
The new footage was more detailed, more intimate—like an action film with suspiciously high production value.
And the leads? Jaeger and herself.
The "fight scenes" were… intense.
Too intense.
Pakura's face turned crimson. Her eyes darted anywhere but the screen.
If any of the civilians were still alive to witness this, she would have turned them into charcoal without hesitation.
"T-This… this is really me!" she gasped, mortified.
Every detail—every scar, every strand of hair—matched perfectly.
It wasn't an illusion. It couldn't be.
Which only made it worse.
Can someone really see the future like this? she thought, panic creeping in.
That's something only gods can do. Don't tell me this man—this ridiculous, smug, divine-looking bastard—is actually one…?
Jaeger watched her flustered expression with a calm smile.
"If this really is the future," Pakura said at last, cheeks still burning, "then I'll see it for myself."
He chuckled.
"Exactly. You won't believe it until you experience it. That's only human."
Then he looked past her, his smile widening.
"You're here for the public execution of the Third Hokage, right? Perfect timing. My friends are here too—we can go together."
"F-friends…?"
Pakura blinked, turning around—
—and froze.
Standing behind her were Nohara Rin, Tsunade, Kushina Uzumaki, Uchiha Miyuki, Angel Leng, and Kasumigaoka Utaha, all staring blankly at the screen still floating in mid-air…
watching that scene play out.
Pakura: "..."
Her soul left her body for half a second.
This damn man did it on purpose!
He actually let them see that?!
•••
Support me at patreon.com/SoftShot and read upto 100 Advanced Chapters
For every 300 Power Stones, there will be a Bonus Chapter!