August 26th, Year 43 of Konoha.
A gray sky drizzled with fine, endless rain.
Shimizu, dressed in a long black coat, arrived before the Memorial Stone. Only a dozen or so people stood there.
In the front row were Mitokado Homura, Utatane Koharu, Akimichi Torifu, Shimura Danzō, and the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. Beside the Hokage sat Starfire in a wheelchair.
In the second row stood Orochimaru, Tsunade, and Jiraiya, along with the clan heads of Konoha's major noble families—the Senju, Uchiha, Hyuga, Hatake, Nara, Aburame, Akimichi, Yamanaka, and others.
Everyone wore black.
Their expressions were solemn beneath the darkened sky.
This was a funeral unknown to the public.
"How are Shimizu's injuries?" the Third Hokage asked kindly.
"Mostly healed. There's one final check tomorrow. If all is well, he can return to the Anbu immediately."
"No rush," Hiruzen said gently. "Let us first send Hyuga Zeichi and Natsue on their final journey."
"…Alright."
Shimizu followed their gaze.
Zeichi and Natsue lay side by side upon wooden platforms, surrounded by vast clusters of white flowers.
"Everyone is here," Utatane Koharu reminded quietly.
"Then let us begin," Hiruzen said gravely.
Mitokado Homura stepped forward and announced in a heavy voice:
"Anbu Fifth Division, Fourth Squad, was ordered to investigate unidentified ninja activity along the border between the Land of Rain and the Land of Rivers. The investigation yielded no results. During their return, the team was attacked by unknown hostile forces. We have lost two outstanding Anbu ninja."
"Let us now observe a moment of silence for Hyuga Zeichi and Asakusa Natsue."
What?!
Shimizu's fists clenched instantly.
Why had it become this?
Weren't they supposed to be honored as heroes?
Was their sacrifice not even worth being known by the world?
The long minutes of silence were agonizing.
Head lowered, he forced down the fury burning in his chest. He wanted to shout at every high-ranking official present—
Why? Why?!
"Ceremony complete," Homura declared. "Proceed with cremation."
In an instant, roaring flames devoured the sea of white flowers.
The fire grew higher and fiercer, blurring his vision—burning away even the last shred of hope he had clung to.
The quiet, secret funeral ended hastily.
The crowd dispersed.
"Come to my office after your medical examination tomorrow," the Third Hokage said before leaving.
Shimizu forgot even to respond.
Tsunade stepped beside him and patted his shoulder without a word.
Jiraiya seemed as though he wanted to speak, but in the end, only sighed and walked away.
As for Orochimaru—
Shimizu's icy gaze met those golden slit pupils.
Only now did he fully understand the meaning behind Orochimaru's earlier words.
...
Earlier that very morning, Orochimaru had sought him out, stating they could proceed with their agreed transaction.
Feeling that his body had largely recovered, Shimizu followed him to his laboratory.
The horrifying experiment he had anticipated never came.
Orochimaru simply drew some blood, collected several strands of his hair, and tossed him the Second Hokage's ninjutsu scrolls.
The transaction was that simple.
"Uzuki-kun, my research is a long-term project. I have paid you in advance. When I require your assistance in the future, I expect you to come at once."
"…Understood."
After confirming the authenticity of the Second Hokage's scrolls, Shimizu didn't even know what to say.
He couldn't help but wonder—
Had Orochimaru not yet begun his forbidden human experiments at this point in time?
Had his own prejudice from his previous life caused him to overthink everything?
Regardless, the Second Hokage's manuscript Orochimaru handed him did not contain space-time techniques like the Flying Thunder God.
But it did contain a comprehensive array of advanced Water Release techniques—
And more importantly, extensive insights from the Second Hokage on Water Release:
The original intent behind developing each jutsu.
The principles.
The practical experience and refinements.
Even speculative ideas for derivative techniques.
It was a treasure trove.
In truth, what Shimizu needed most was precisely this—
the conceptual framework and development philosophy of a Kage-level shinobi.
"Uzuki-kun, do you think Konoha has treated you fairly?"
What did Orochimaru mean by that? A test?
"I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean, Orochimaru-sama," Shimizu replied calmly.
"Everything you've achieved so far has been earned through your own effort. Although no major clan recruited you, on the surface—because Maruboshi Kosuke is your teacher—you're considered part of the Third Hokage's faction."
Orochimaru's sharp gaze fixed on him.
"But what if one day, you are sacrificed as a bargaining chip?"
"Why are you suddenly telling me this?" Shimizu frowned slightly. What was Orochimaru playing at?
"I simply feel that Konoha has grown somewhat rotten—fragile and greedy."
"Fragile? Konoha has so many powerful ninja, and you, one of the Sannin, are here. The Third Hokage is still in his prime. How can you call it fragile?" Shimizu countered.
From his knowledge of the future, he knew that during the Third Great Ninja War, the Land of Fire would fight four nations—and win them all. How could such a Konoha be described as weak?
As for greedy…
"Decay and corruption always begin at the top and seep downward," Orochimaru said, his voice low and magnetic.
"What truly supports the great tree that is Konoha is the vast root system beneath it. Those roots constantly draw nourishment for the village, contributing enormously while remaining unseen."
He paused.
"That is not something the Third Hokage alone can accomplish."
Then he added quietly:
"I believe you will form your own judgment, Uzuki-kun."
Roots? Is he referring to the organization led by Danzō? Is Orochimaru speaking on Danzō's behalf? What is this about?
Shimizu left with unanswered questions.
He was certain Orochimaru would not speak such words without purpose. There had to be a deeper meaning.
Yet he had no clues.
Suppressing his curiosity, he hurried out of the gloomy laboratory. What concerned him more was the ninjutsu scroll in his arms.
A few minutes later, Orochimaru spoke into the empty room:
"Deliver these blood samples to Danzō. And inform him that the seed has been planted. I have fulfilled my promise. The rest depends on him."
....
So that's how it is!
That was why everyone had urged him to focus on healing.
They were afraid he might lose control emotionally and jeopardize his recovery.
In truth, the Konoha leadership had planned this outcome all along.
No one else knew the details.
Even the funeral had only a dozen attendees.
This matter would likely be sealed forever within the classified archives of the Anbu.
"You knew too, didn't you, Starfire?" Shimizu asked softly, his gaze calm.
"No… I was only informed this morning about how it would be handled."
Starfire wheeled himself in front of him.
"And… I'm no longer a ninja. You don't need to call me by my Anbu codename anymore, Captain."
"Right... Masakazu, then. What are your plans?"
Shimizu's tone softened slightly. Starfire's real name was Kurokawa Masakazu, born into an ordinary ninja family.
"I haven't decided yet… Maybe I'll open a small shop."
He forced a faint smile.
"The Hokage suggested I could teach at the Ninja Academy. Even though it's hard to let go of my time as a shinobi… I think it's time for me to say goodbye to this world."
There was an indescribable loneliness in his voice.
For a jonin to abandon over twenty years of a ninja's life—
The cruelty of reality was merciless.
"Sunagakure… So Gray Hawk and Storm… Zeichi and Natsue… they just died for nothing?"
Shimizu didn't know whether he was asking Masakazu—or himself.
"The Hokage said he would give us an explanation… We should trust him," Masakazu said, as though trying to convince himself.
From what Shimizu remembered of the Third Hokage in his previous life, Hiruzen Sarutobi had always seemed like a kind, smiling old man. That image didn't align with this outcome.
But then he recalled Orochimaru's words from that morning.
He wasn't naïve.
A man who rose above countless prodigies to become Hokage—how could he possibly be harmless?
Anime was only anime. It showed only what the author wanted the audience to see.
In a real world, how could there not be entangled interests and political calculations?
If the benefits were great enough, what sacrifice could not be justified?
If necessary, that man would even offer up his own life.
All for Konoha.
Only this time—
The ones sacrificed were them.
No matter how righteous the reason, Shimizu could not accept it.
He did care about Konoha.
But that didn't mean he could accept this outcome.
He had not become a shinobi in order to live in silent humiliation.
He became one because he yearned for true freedom.
Power…
If I had strength equal to the Sannin… No. I need to be stronger—stronger than a Kage!
Kurokawa Masakazu took a photograph from his pocket and handed it to Shimizu.
"Natsue was an orphan. Her belongings were cremated with her… I think it's better if you keep this photo."
It had been taken two years ago, shortly after Shimizu became an Anbu squad captain.
The only group photo the four of them ever took.
All four had removed their masks, dressed in their Anbu uniforms.
Kurokawa Masakazu crouched in front, flashing a goofy peace sign with a wide grin.
Hyuga Zeichi stood on the far left, smiling gently.
Asakusa Natsue stood on the right, wearing a faint, quiet smile.
In the center stood Uzuki Shimizu.
His expression was calm.
His gaze seemed to pass through the photograph itself—looking far, far into the distance.
Shimizu tightened his grip on the Second Hokage's ninjutsu scroll in his arms.
His fingers clenched so hard that all color drained from them.