In this moment, Hiruzen Sarutobi's final target of hatred wasn't Chiba anymore.
It shifted-violently, unmistakably-to Shimura Danzō, Hidan, and Kakuzu.
Because this wasn't simply about losing a war, or even about being driven from the Hokage's seat. This was about something far more personal, far more unforgivable: the murder of his last remaining son, Sarutobi Asuma-reduced to a cold line on a bounty ledger and a casual remark from the mouths of monsters.
And Danzō… Danzō was worse.
The man who had once been his only peer, his lone companion in the same generation-someone Hiruzen had known for so long that their bond had become indistinguishable from habit-had chosen this moment, Hiruzen's lowest moment, to strike from the shadows. Not only did he intend to seize the Hokage's throne, he had willingly allied himself with Asuma's killers. He had known. He had stayed silent. And he had brought them here.
For what reason?
Hiruzen already knew the answer. He had known the moment he saw them step out, calm and confident, as if arriving to collect payment.
Even if he somehow drove Chiba back today… Danzō would have ordered those two to finish him off. The end result wouldn't change.
Because the Hokage's seat was all that mattered.
By now, Danzō had become the person Hiruzen hated most-more than the two who had taken Asuma's life. More than Chiba, who had crushed him openly on the battlefield. Because betrayal didn't just wound the body; it rotted the spirit from the inside out.
Still… there was one thing Hiruzen needed to hear with his own ears.
His gaze turned, icy and steady, toward the two Akatsuki members.
"Which one of you killed my son?"
Hidan yawned, bored to the core, then lifted a hand like a student answering a question he didn't care about.
"Me."
It was the truth.
Sarutobi Asuma had died beneath Hidan's curse technique-an execution delivered through that grotesque ritual of linked pain and blood. It wasn't the same path fate had taken elsewhere, but the destination was no different.
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed, the grief in them hardening into something colder than rage.
"Good."
"A life for a life."
"You'll pay for it with your own."
Hidan burst into laughter, loud and mocking, like the idea itself was entertaining.
"Old man, you don't seriously think you're still some great Hokage, do you?!"
"Right now you're just a washed-up stray-kicked out, nowhere to go, a pathetic dog with no home!"
"As for that Asuma guy? He was nothing. Kakuzu did it for the money-me? I did it for devotion."
"Yes! He was offered up as a living sacrifice to Jashin-sama! He should've felt honored. Same goes for you, too!!!"
Hiruzen's expression didn't waver.
"Jashin-sama?"
"I don't know what kind of thing that is… but I can promise you this."
"You're about to meet a real Shinigami."
Hidan scratched at his ear, visibly irritated, as if Hiruzen had insulted him rather than threatened him.
"I don't believe in any Shinigami, okay? Hey, hey-didn't you hear me? I worship Jashin-sama!"
"Don't whisper that blasphemous crap around me!"
"Otherwise, you'll suffer Jashin-sama's wrath!!!"
Hiruzen's mouth curled into a thin, merciless smile.
"Then come."
"Let's see whether your Jashin shows himself first…"
"Or whether I make you see the Shinigami before you can blink."
In an instant-
Hiruzen Sarutobi swung the Kongō Nyoi staff with both hands, driving forward with a ferocity that didn't match his battered body, and launched himself straight at Hidan again. The old Hokage's movements were heavy, but each strike carried the weight of a lifetime-rage packed into muscle and bone, a will so stubborn it refused to accept the word end.
Hidan, instead of retreating, lit up with excitement as if he'd been waiting for this. He threw his head back and laughed, voice echoing with manic devotion. "Jashin-sama above, today I'll send you another living sacrifice! This old bastard may be ancient, but he's a big name in the shinobi world. Jashin-sama's going to be delighted-hahahahaha!"
With a violent snap of his arms, Hidan whipped up his crimson triple-bladed scythe and met the staff head-on.
CLANG!
CLANG-CLANG!
Sparks burst from the collision, bright against the bleak battlefield. The two weapons locked and slid, grinding metal against metal, and the force of it rippled through the air like a shockwave. Hidan's grin faltered for the briefest instant-his brow tightening as he realized just how much power Hiruzen was still dragging out of a half-destroyed body.
"Tch… old man, you've got some strength left!"
He yanked the scythe back, then flicked his wrist hard, sending the rope attached to the weapon whipping around in a vicious arc. The blade swung wide-then came slicing back from behind, trying to catch Hiruzen's blind spot in a single, cruel sweep.
But the Kongō Nyoi staff was no ordinary weapon. It extended and shifted as freely as Hiruzen's intent. In the same breath, it shot backward like a spear, lengthening with a savage thrust that struck the scythe aside again and forced Hidan to stumble away from the angle.
Hidan's eyes gleamed. "Heh. Not bad-your weapon's pretty damn good too."
Around them, no one moved to interfere.
Chiba watched with the calm of someone who already knew the outcome. Hiruzen's life had been spent the moment he chose Shiki Fūjin-this fight was just the shape his final minutes would take. If he could kill an Akatsuki member like Hidan before dying, it would be the last contribution a doomed man could make to the shinobi world.
Danzō also stayed still, his silence colder than any reaction. He understood Hiruzen wouldn't spare him, not after everything. If Hiruzen was going to burn, then letting him burn out here wasn't the worst outcome.
As for Kakuzu, he had never cared about Hiruzen in the first place. Whether Hiruzen lived or died meant nothing to him-and even if Hidan truly fell, Kakuzu wouldn't lose sleep over it. A "partner" was a tool until it wasn't.
In a heartbeat, the clash intensified.
Hiruzen drove the Kongō Nyoi staff in relentless arcs, battering the air itself, while Hidan spun and snapped his scythe in vicious circles, the rope making the weapon's path unpredictable and lethal. Their footwork carved trenches into the ground; their swings cracked the earth. Hidan's taijutsu was sharp, savage, and fast, and that scythe was a nightmare to read-but Hiruzen was still Hiruzen, still a man who had survived countless battlefields, and the Kongō Nyoi staff gave him reach and control that turned every inch of space into a threat.
Of course, his body was ruined. He was old. He was bleeding. He should have been collapsing.
Yet in this moment, it was as if he'd returned from the edge-like the last flare of a dying flame suddenly roaring tall. Chakra surged through him with a final, desperate brilliance, and for a while… he actually forced Hidan back, striking with a pressure that made the Akatsuki fanatic's smile sharpen into something more serious.
BOOOOM!
Another impact shook the ground. Wind and shockwaves tore outward, the battlefield howling beneath them as weapon strikes slammed into the earth hard enough to explode dirt and stone into the air. The noise was deafening-an ugly symphony of steel, impact, and fury.
But no matter how fiercely Hiruzen fought, Hidan was still the more agile of the two.
A single lapse-one half-step too slow, one breath too heavy-and the crimson scythe flashed past. The blade grazed Hiruzen's already wounded shoulder, opening it deeper. Blood burst out in a hot spray, spattering across the scythe's edge.
Hidan immediately pulled back, and his grin turned sinister-almost reverent. He extended his tongue and slowly licked the fresh blood from the blade, savoring it like a sacrament.
Then his entire appearance shifted.
Black and white markings spread across his body as if painted by a deranged ritual, and the heat in his eyes warped into something feverish and unhinged.
"Alright," Hidan breathed, delighted. "It's over."
Hiruzen didn't understand-couldn't. A scratch on the arm didn't end wars. His mind raced through possibilities: poison? A hidden edge? Some kind of delayed toxin? But he felt no numbness, no discoloration, no sign of venom creeping through his blood.
And then Hidan produced a new weapon.
A collapsible black spear.
With a sharp flick, it snapped outward and extended to full length in his hand.
Hiruzen's brow furrowed. "A new weapon…?"
He didn't get time to think further.
Because the next scene was so absurd, so grotesque, it stole breath from everyone watching-Hiruzen, Danzō, and even the Root operatives Fū Yamanaka and Torune Aburame.
THUD!
Hidan drove the black spear straight into his own shoulder.
He didn't scream.
He smiled-wide, ecstatic, sick with pleasure-while blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the ground, pooling into a spreading stain. Hiruzen's face darkened, disgust mixing with wary shock.
"Bastard… what are you doing?!"
Hidan ignored him. With his foot, he dragged the blood outward, calmly smearing it across the dirt. He drew a strange symbol-an outer circle enclosing an inner triangle-careful, deliberate, like an altar being prepared. Then he stepped into the center of it.
Scythe in one hand. Black spear in the other.
He stretched both arms out to his sides.
"Everything's ready, Jashin-sama!" Hidan cried, voice trembling with worship. "Now-accept my offering!!!"
Hiruzen's patience snapped. He didn't care what kind of madness Hidan was performing. He only cared about ending him. With a roar, he lunged forward again, Kongō Nyoi staff smashing down as he closed the distance.
And then-
Hidan stabbed the spear into his own right leg.
THUD!
In the same instant, Hiruzen's right leg exploded with pain. Blood surged out violently, and his body buckled as if a blade had been driven into him instead. He crashed to the ground with a heavy thump, a hoarse scream ripping out of his throat.
"What?!"
Shock hit the spectators all at once. Danzō's eyes narrowed. Fū and Torune stared, stunned, their minds racing to make sense of what they'd seen.
"He stabbed himself-so why did the Hokage-?"
Their confusion didn't last long. They weren't ordinary shinobi. Their eyes were sharp; their brains were sharper. In the original timeline, they had even seen through the mechanics of Kamui enough to push Uchiha Obito into a corner, forcing him to pay a steep price to win. They understood patterns, and they understood abilities.
Fū's voice dropped, tense with realization. "That's it… that's his power."
"He took the Hokage's blood-licked it, swallowed it-then his body changed. After that, any injury he inflicts on himself is mirrored onto his target."
Torune's gaze flicked to the symbol under Hidan's feet. "A curse technique… a reflected punishment."
Danzō gave a slow nod, expression unreadable. "So that's how Sarutobi Asuma died."
Hiruzen clutched at his leg, fingers slick with blood, struggling to push himself up. Every movement was agony, and yet his eyes remained locked on Hidan with the stubborn fury of a man who refused to die quietly.
"S-So that's your ability…?"
"You consume your enemy's blood… then use some ritual to activate a curse that reflects damage back onto them…?"
"But if that's true…" Hiruzen's voice turned harsher, as if he could reason his way to victory through sheer will. "Then you suffer the same injuries too!"
"If you try to kill me like this… you should die with me!"
Kakuzu let out a cold snort, like Hiruzen had just said something childish.
"Wrong, Hokage."
"Hidan has the legendary immortal body. He doesn't die."
"Cut him apart and he still won't die."
"Otherwise, he wouldn't even qualify to be my partner."
The words landed like a hammer.
Hiruzen's eyes widened. Danzō's face tightened. Even Fū and Torune looked shaken-because immortality wasn't a rumor now. It was standing right in front of them, grinning through blood.
And suddenly, the technique made perfect sense. Hidan didn't need to avoid damage. He only needed to share it. The pain was irrelevant. The wounds were irrelevant. He could endure the cost indefinitely, and the enemy would be the one to collapse.
Judging by that twisted, ecstatic smile, Hidan didn't just endure it-he enjoyed it.
Hiruzen finally forced himself upright, leaning heavily on the Kongō Nyoi staff like a cane made of war.
"So that's it… immortality."
"That's why you can wield this cursed killing method so freely…"
He exhaled, and for a moment, the words sounded less like fear and more like grim acknowledgment.
"You're a terrifying man."
Hidan laughed again, delighted by the reaction. "Well? Surprised by my power-and by Jashin-sama's punishment?!"
"Want to join our religion?!"
Then his grin sharpened into something crueler.
"But it's too late. You've already been chosen as the living sacrifice. You belong to Jashin-sama now!!!"
Hiruzen steadied his stance, blood still dripping, the staff braced beneath him.
"Your Jashin-sama means nothing to me," he said coldly. "I told you-I don't care."
"I'm only here to make you see the real Shinigami."
Hidan's laughter turned mocking. "Big words, old man!"
"At this point, you really think you can still take me down?!"
"Then taste it-taste a pain even sweeter than the last!!!"
THUD!
The black spear plunged down again-this time into Hidan's shoulder.
Blood erupted. And at the same moment, Hiruzen jerked, clutching his own shoulder as crimson poured between his fingers. Pain tore through him so hard his vision threatened to blur. Cold sweat broke out across his skin, his face draining pale.
But he didn't fall.
He gritted his teeth, forced his legs to move, and started walking forward-one step at a time-toward Hidan, as if pain was just another enemy to be crushed beneath his will.
Hidan's smile thinned. "Still won't give up?!"
"Then try this one!"
Hidan raised the black spear again, lifting it high as if he were presenting it to the heavens, then drove it down with ruthless certainty. This time the point sank into his left leg-and in the same instant, a fresh stream of scarlet spilled down Hiruzen Sarutobi's own left leg as if the wound had been carved into him directly. His body lurched, breath ripping through clenched teeth, and yet he still fought to remain upright, trembling on legs that no longer felt like they belonged to him.
Hidan's excitement finally curdled into anger. His grin twisted, eyes blazing with offended disbelief, as if Hiruzen's refusal to collapse was an insult to his faith itself. "Why aren't you falling?!" he barked. "You damned old bastard-being chosen as Jashin-sama's offering should make you happy! Why are you resisting?!"
His voice climbed into a shriek of fanatic fury. "Fine! Then I'll send you off for good!!!"
For the last time, Hidan lifted the spear.
And in that moment, the battlefield seemed to freeze. The air hung heavy, as if even the wind had forgotten how to move. Every gaze-Chiba's, Danzō's, Kakuzu's, Fū's, Torune's-locked onto the black point poised above Hidan's chest. Everyone understood what was about to happen: if he drove that spear into his heart, Hiruzen would die immediately. No one here was ignorant enough to mistake this for bravado. It was execution, clean and final.
And yet… no one stopped him.
Those who couldn't stop it could only watch. Those who could stop it had no intention of doing so.
So-
THUD!
The black spear plunged into Hidan's heart.
A shudder ran through him, and his face contorted-not with pain, but with a sick, ecstatic pleasure, as though he were bathing in the sensation. Across from him, Hiruzen's face went paper-white. His eyes widened, and his body jerked hard as an unimaginable agony tore through his chest-white-hot and absolute, like his heart had been pierced clean through.
It wasn't a feeling.
It was the truth.
Hiruzen stumbled, feet scraping helplessly, his balance collapsing as his body pitched toward the ground. He swayed-teetering at the edge of the inevitable-blood on his lips, breath shattered, vision wavering.
And then, just before he fell-
A final roar ripped out of him.
"AAAAAAH!!!"
He didn't collapse.
He lunged.
Like an old lion refusing to die on its knees, Hiruzen hurled himself forward and wrapped both arms around Hidan's body, locking him in an iron embrace fueled by hatred, grief, and the last fragments of a Hokage's will. Hidan's eyes snapped wide, shock and fury twisting his features as he tried to wrench free-
Too late.
In the middle of Hidan's stunned, raging stare, Hiruzen unleashed his final strike.
"Shiki Fūjin-'Dead Demon Consuming Seal'!!!"
In an instant, behind Hiruzen, the true visage of the Shinigami appeared-visible only to the caster and the one being claimed. A grotesque, terrifying face. A massive, pallid body looming like a nightmare given form. Prayer beads hung from its grasp, and in its other hand gleamed a cruel, crescent scythe.
For the first time, Hidan's faith faltered.
His mouth parted. His eyes trembled.
"T-That… is that-"
"There's… a real Shinigami?!"
"Jashin-sama… what is this?!"
Hiruzen's lips curled into a low, grim smile-thin, bloodstained, and utterly merciless. He lifted his head and stared straight into Hidan's panicked eyes, as if he wanted that terror burned into memory for eternity.
"I told you," he rasped, voice like gravel dragged across steel. "I'd show you the real Shinigami."
"And now…"
"Come to hell with me."
The Shinigami's pale arm thrust forward from behind Hiruzen, reaching through the boundary between flesh and soul. Its hand clamped around Hidan's spirit, dragging it out with irresistible force-and then-
The scythe fell.
A cold, final arc.
Shiki Fūjin fully activated.
Hiruzen's soul and Hidan's soul were sealed together inside the Shinigami's belly, bound for eternity-never to be released, never to find peace, condemned to endless hatred and endless struggle, forever tangled in the consequence of their final moment.
"No-!!!"
Hidan's last scream tore out, raw with despair, but it changed nothing. Immortality meant nothing before this. Even an undying body couldn't protect a soul from being claimed.
Thump.
His body collapsed, heavy and lifeless, as if someone had cut the strings that held him up.
Even Kakuzu's expression shifted-genuine shock flickering across his face. He had never imagined Hidan would actually die at Hiruzen Sarutobi's hands. And yet here it was, undeniable: Hiruzen had taken vengeance for Sarutobi Asuma with his own life as the price.
As for Hiruzen… he had been grievously wounded already, then pierced through the heart by Hidan's curse, and finally consumed by Shiki Fūjin. His death was absolute. His body swayed, barely held together by will alone.
But before he fell, he smiled-just once, small and faint, like a father finally allowed a single breath of peace.
"Asuma… my son…" he whispered, voice breaking softly at the edges. "I finally… avenged you…"
Shimura Danzō stared at him-at the only companion and closest friend he had left in this world-and for a moment even he seemed struck silent, caught between shock and something harder to name.
"Hiruzen…"
Hiruzen turned his head slightly, eyes dim but still clear enough to find Danzō.
"Danzō… Konoha is in your hands."
Then, one last time, he looked toward Chiba.
"Yuki no Kuni Chiba… we're enemies, but you truly are the man I respect the most."
"It's a shame… in the end, I still couldn't beat you…"
After those words, the final light in Hiruzen Sarutobi's eyes faded away.
His body fell with a dull, final weight-collapsing onto the battlefield where he had tried to reclaim the Hokage's seat, onto the land of Konoha itself. There, in the dust and blood of his last war, the era of a ruthless hero came to its end.
Hiruzen Sarutobi…
was dead.
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