Chapter 190: Obito's New Partner
A consciousness bound for years by a mask of someone else's design surfaced, in the last seconds left to it, fully his own.
Yagura looked down at the fist embedded in his chest and lifted his eyes to the pink-haired girl in front of him.
No hatred in them. No anger. No despair.
Something closer to release. Calm. Even, faintly, gratitude.
Yagura Karatachi — Fourth Mizukage, in name — had spent the entirety of his tenure operating under someone else's genjutsu control. In this last moment, with the violent fist tearing through him, his own mind had finally come back.
He opened his mouth. Blood and fragments of organ came up with the words.
His hand closed around the fist still buried in his chest, holding onto it like an anchor, looking at Sakura.
"Haruno..."
"You saved... Kirigakure..."
Tsunade and Mei, arriving just in time to hear this, stared in open confusion.
What was this? A dying Mizukage, looking at the person who'd just killed him, with something that looked like thanks?
"Mei..."
Whatever reserve of strength a jinchūriki's body carried, even now, gave him a few more seconds.
Pink eyes found Mei's face — calm, almost detached, standing beside Tsunade.
"You did well..."
"From this moment... you are the Fifth Mizukage."
His smile was bitter and complete.
Fourth Mizukage of Kirigakure. From the day he'd taken the title, he'd been a puppet on someone else's strings. The irony of that — the sheer, grinding uselessness of it — settled into his final words.
Because of him, Kiri's bloodline clans had been hollowed out one after another. The Kaguya. The Yuki. Centuries of lineage, gone in barely more than a decade.
"Haruno..."
He could feel the cold setting in. His thoughts were already starting to blur. The Three-Tails inside him was fading too, dimming along with everything else.
"You saved... me..."
Sakura watched him die without reacting.
"You'll climb to the rank of Hokage standing on my bones."
His words came faster now, voice climbing, his grip on her fist tightening with whatever strength was left.
This was the part Sakura had recognized was coming — the body's last surge before the end.
"We share the same enemy."
"You'll sweep everything aside. Every name standing against you, you'll end."
"Go. Walk over my rotted bones."
"Crush everything. Climb to the very top. Feel the loneliness up there, and when you do—"
"You'll be alone. No one beside you."
"The world will kneel. The shinobi world will know peace."
"Force it down with absolute strength... all of it..."
By the end, something that had been suppressed for years was breaking loose — his eyes burning red, fixed on her.
He'd had enough. Enough of being controlled. Enough of a life spent entirely under someone else's hand. Whatever hope was left in him, he poured into the girl who had killed him and, in the same motion, finally set him free.
This was the freest he'd ever been. And the most important moment of his life.
Sakura watched the last of him drain away and withdrew her hand.
His body collapsed with the motion.
The Fourth Mizukage — guilty of atrocities, and entirely a puppet in committing them — died here.
You didn't need to tell me any of that.
She answered him silently, internally, fist closing slowly, blood still wet across her knuckles.
Mei's expression had gone complicated, watching the man who'd been her enemy until thirty seconds ago. In his final moment, the truth had become unmistakable: the Bloody Mist policy had never been his idea. It had been the puppet master's tool, executed through him.
The entire village. Controlled.
Akatsuki.
Mei's hatred for the organization, already deep, reached something close to its ceiling.
"Hey. You're the Fifth Mizukage now, technically." Tsunade elbowed her.
"I won't be holding that position."
Mei exhaled.
She'd just spent a battle openly fighting against Kiri's own forces on Konoha's side, in plain sight of everyone watching. Whatever the eventual truth came out to be, there was no path back into Kirigakure for her now.
"Tch. Shame."
Tsunade clicked her tongue.
If Mei had been able to take the seat, Kiri and Konoha would have ended up as close as two villages could get — a real partnership, not the half-hearted, untrustworthy alliance Konoha had with Iwagakure.
"What now?" Kakashi asked, looking at Yagura's body, equal parts shaken and uneasy.
It went without saying — Akatsuki had been controlling Kiri the entire time.
"Full mop-up of the remaining Kiri forces."
Sakura glanced at Mei, then continued.
"Surrender gets you life. Resistance gets you killed. Flight gets you killed. Anyone causing trouble gets killed."
"They launched an unprovoked attack on us, started a war without cause. If they surrender and admit guilt, draft a surrender agreement on the spot."
"Handle the terms however's appropriate."
A thought crossed her mind.
"Actually — give this whole negotiation to that old woman, Koharu."
She still found the woman irritating personally, but had to admit the old negotiator genuinely had a gift for this kind of work.
Tsunade slung an arm over Sakura's shoulder, tone landing somewhere between exasperated and teasing.
"At least show her some respect — she's the old man's peer, you know."
"...Right."
Sakura gave Tsunade a flat, unimpressed look.
You, of all people, lecturing me about respect for Koharu. Tsunade's own contempt for the woman ran no shallower than hers.
She let it go and looked back down at Yagura's body.
I'll grant you this — in your last moment, you put real hope in me as the one who'd end Akatsuki.
Doesn't change the fact that you're going in the bag.
Mei watched Sakura seal Yagura's body into a scroll without ceremony and felt her shoulders stiffen briefly — but there was nothing left to object to.
Exactly as Sakura had told her earlier. There was no going back to Kiri now.
She looked off into the distance, toward where Kirigakure lay.
Ao. The village is yours to hold now.
Konoha. Hokage Building. Hokage's office.
THWACK.
Hiruzen read the dispatch in his hand and couldn't help the grin spreading across his face.
Secured.
The Fourth Raikage. The Fourth Kazekage. The Fourth Mizukage. All three, dead at Sakura's hand.
The Fifth Hokage seat was effectively decided.
If anyone with any sense of self-preservation tried to object now, in the face of a record this absurd, Hiruzen wouldn't even need to defend her — public opinion alone would drown them.
Even Hiruzen, usually composed to the point of being unreadable, slammed his palm against the desk, unable to contain himself.
Though—
He stroked the short beard on his chin, a faint trace of regret crossing his face.
What's taking Ōnoki so long to name a Fourth Tsuchikage?
"Someone, come."
An ANBU appeared instantly.
"Get a supply detachment out to the front immediately, with provisions for the troops."
"Send Elder Koharu to Whirlpool Country to handle the negotiations with Kiri."
"And distribute this dispatch across the entire village."
The ANBU vanished. Hiruzen turned his attention to the window, looking out at the Hokage Monument carved into the cliff face.
After the Fourth Hokage — another generational talent, arriving exactly when the village needed one.
Single-handedly sweeping all five great nations. Ending a war through sheer dominance.
And this one was his own personally chosen student.
This is how you raise a successor.
If anyone tried to give Sakura trouble going forward, Hiruzen would be first in line to deal with it himself.
"Hm..."
His good mood reminded him of someone else still waiting in the village — Sandayū and his group.
"Someone, bring Sandayū to me."
"...What?"
Sakura stared at the mission scroll in her hands and felt her vision briefly go white with something close to fury.
Mission rank: B.
Mission: Escort the production crew of "Snow Princess: Ninja Scroll" to the Land of Snow for location filming, until shooting wraps.
Client: Sandayū.
Assigned shinobi: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Karin, Aburame Shino.
Sakura stared at the signature on the bottom of the scroll — her own — and felt her eye twitch.
When did I sign this.
Apparently I'm not even considered a person at this point.
Beat the Kazekage, then the Mizukage, and not even a single day to catch her breath. While intelligence work was still actively underway on Yagura's information — now he wanted her gone?
"Lord Hokage's orders. Please return to Konoha immediately, Lady Sakura — Lady Tsunade has been given full authority here in your place."
The ANBU who'd made the long trip out without a single rest stop along the way delivered the message with visible urgency.
"Yeah, yeah. I heard you."
Sakura waved the forged-signature scroll once, resigned.
The old man had gone so far as to forge her own handwriting. There was no version of declining this.
And honestly — looking at the assigned roster, Sasuke alone could probably steamroll the entire Land of Snow without backup. There was no real need for her to be there at all.
She tucked the scroll away and went to find Tsunade to say her goodbyes.
She didn't need anyone to explain the old man's actual motive here. Pulling her out without even time for a return trip with the main force was already a clear sign this wasn't really a B-rank mission.
The film crew was a cover story. The real objective was installing Koyuki — Fujikaze Yukie, the cover name — as Daimyo of the Land of Snow, bringing the nation fully into Konoha's orbit.
Once that happened, the Daimyo's voice would, in practice, be Hiruzen's voice.
The old man clearly couldn't wait to retire. He was already laying every brick of the road toward Sakura's Hokage seat.
"What about Kushina?" she asked the ANBU.
Kushina had come with her to the River Country front, gotten relayed to Whirlpool Country via Flying Thunder God, and had effectively been left behind at the original location.
"A separate escort is being arranged for the Uzumaki member. She should already be en route back to Konoha."
Worth noting: somewhere along the way, "Kushina" had quietly become "Uzumaki Kushina."
She'd never carried a surname before. After Tsunade took her on, Tsunade had simply attached the Uzumaki name herself — given that Kushina's grandmother had been Uzumaki Mito, an actual Uzumaki princess, and Tsunade was now her teacher in practice. Kushina hadn't objected. It was just a name, in the end.
"Fine, fine. Got it."
Sakura rubbed her temple and went to find Tsunade to let her know she was heading out.
Tsunade took the news with complete unconcern — her own work here was wrapping up anyway, just waiting on Koharu to finish the negotiations before pulling everyone home.
Watching Tsunade's relaxed, couldn't-care-less posture, Sakura turned and left without looking back.
Night.
Rain.
"Yagura Karatachi..."
Under dim lamplight, Obito crushed the game piece in his hand, brow furrowing hard.
After the Raikage, the Kazekage, now the Mizukage too.
The pattern was no longer abstract. It was a real, immediate danger to him specifically.
Externally, Sakura. Internally, Pain. Neither one was someone he could currently beat.
Sakura's hostility toward him needed no explanation. And Pain had been treating him increasingly like a subordinate to direct, not a partner to consult.
Threats on every side didn't begin to cover it.
Within Akatsuki itself, it wasn't just Pain — Itachi was a live problem too.
Obito felt the full weight of his current position settle on him, clearly, for the first time.
Losing the Madara name had made everything harder. Considerably harder.
"Obito."
The door opened. A figure stepped through — half-black, half-white, the divided face unmistakable.
Black Zetsu.
He'd pulled himself away from Kumogakure's administration specifically for this — to check on Madara's chosen representative.
"Zetsu..."
Obito looked at him, exhausted.
"Obito. Two days ago, you acted on impulse."
Black Zetsu had already heard the full account of the confrontation with Itachi from White Zetsu.
"Yeah. I know."
Obito didn't look up, eyes fixed on the lamp's dim glow.
Watching him sit in silence, Black Zetsu's expression tightened slightly.
He had reservations about Obito, plenty of them. But he also knew, with confidence, that Obito wasn't the type to simply give up. He'd considered, more than once, whether it was time to shift focus to Nagato entirely.
But abandoning Obito wasn't a decision he could make lightly either.
"Is this you giving up?"
The question made Obito look up.
"Giving up on beating a twelve-year-old girl? Or giving up on taking Pain's orders? Or is it your brother that's gotten to you?"
Obito said nothing, just looking at him.
"Obito. Have you forgotten what you set out to do?"
"This cruel world — wasn't this exactly the thing you wanted to remake?"
Black Zetsu shut the door behind him. Obito raised a barrier around the room, sealing out the relentless rain.
"Facing the world's cruelty again — has it shaken you?"
"No. It hasn't."
Obito finally spoke.
Something close to satisfaction crossed Black Zetsu's expression at that.
"Then where," he said, "is the man who released the Nine-Tails and killed the Yellow Flash himself?"
"The Obito I remember doesn't sit alone in the dark, sulking."
Obito went quiet again.
"Someone like me..."
"Can someone like me actually accomplish something this large?"
He raised a hand, blocking the lamplight. Through the gaps between his fingers, the flame flickered, unsteady.
"Who do you think you are?"
"You are Madara's chosen successor. The voice of the ninja world's true reckoning. The second person in history, after Madara himself, to hold both the Sharingan and Wood Release."
"Obito."
Black Zetsu's eyes were unreadable, deep and dark.
"You are considerably more than you currently believe yourself to be."
"So — what should I do?"
The encouragement didn't move him much. He went straight to the practical question instead.
"What do you think you're missing right now?"
Black Zetsu turned the question back on him.
"Strength. Real strength. Absolute strength."
Obito answered without hesitation.
His identity was compromised. Kamui had been read and countered. What he had left — half-formed Wood Release, an incomplete grip on yin-yang chakra — wasn't enough to accomplish anything real.
Black Zetsu's mouth curved.
He pulled the door open. A small figure stood waiting on the other side.
White hair. White robes. Red eyes.
"Introduce yourself. Our new partner."
The figure stepped inside. Black Zetsu closed the door behind them.
Candlelight wavered in the room. Rain hammered the steel outside. Lightning rolled through the cloud cover. Wind screamed through the metal corridors of the tower.
Everything looked exactly as it had a moment ago.
And yet something had clearly shifted.
The next day.
Konoha.
Sakura looked up at the familiar gate and walked through without hesitation.
"Hm?"
"Is that—?!"
Kotetsu and Izumo, dutifully at their post, both rubbed their eyes at the familiar pink shape.
"Hey. Been a while."
She gave them a wave and kept walking without looking back.
"Was that Sakura?"
"Yeah. That's her."
"Our war hero."
Between Hiruzen's careful narrative management and the raw facts of her record, Sakura's name had spread through every corner of the village.
No campaign in any village's recorded history had ever produced three Kage falling to the same person in a single war.
And this person was thirteen.
The story should have read as folklore. It had genuinely happened.
Her return triggered something close to a village-wide celebration. Konoha hadn't produced a figure on this scale since the First Hokage died — and now, by popular consensus, here was someone whose record was starting to outpace even Hashirama's legend.
The crowd's enthusiasm went well past anything Sakura had braced for. She found herself completely boxed in within minutes.
"Sakura!"
"Lady Sakura, my family just made rice cakes, please—"
"Sakura!"
"Could you sign this for me?!"
"Sakura!"
"Lady Sakura, is it true you're still unmarried?"
Ino had heard about her return almost immediately and tried to push through the crowd, failing entirely, reduced to shouting Sakura's name from the outer edge in hopes of being noticed.
The Heaven-Covering Formation would have caught her easily — if Sakura had bothered to activate it. Nobody runs constant sensory scans just walking down the street. She wasn't a Hyuga with nothing better to do than keep the Byakugan running for fun.
Eventually the crowd got dense enough to block the road entirely, and a patrol squad had to step in to clear it, which finally gave Sakura room to breathe.
"Sakura!"
Before she could react, a purple blur slammed into her.
"Ah, that familiar fl—"
"Hm?"
"Did you get a little bigger? Finally starting to develop?"
Ino reached out to check for herself. Sakura caught her wrist before contact.
"That's enough of that."
We are in the middle of the street.
Privately, Sakura had a fairly settled opinion about her own chest: two pieces of tissue, functionally irrelevant, with zero impact on her punching speed.
That said, it wasn't entirely a non-issue either. Haruno Sakura was, technically, a teenage girl, and that particular reality wasn't something she could fully sidestep forever.
Small comfort: compared to Hinata or Tsunade — whose proportions verged on the structurally implausible — she sat comfortably in the normal range. Arguably the flatter end of normal. She'd take it.
"Tch. Stingy."
Ino pulled a face at being denied.
"What's Ino been up to lately?"
Sakura redirected, wisely, before the conversation could go further.
"Me? Compared to you, I've had a pretty normal time of it."
Sakura let the implication pass without comment.
"Been helping out at Mom's flower shop. Though — get this — I'm barely this age and she's already trying to set me up on dates."
"Like she's terrified I'll never get married."
Ino held up two fingers, demonstrating how genuinely young she still was, deeply unimpressed with her mother's urgency.
Absolutely outrageous.
Sakura glanced at her. Inoichi's wife probably suspects her daughter's been turned by someone with pink hair.
Marry. Get married. As soon as possible, please.
As for Ino's canonical husband, Sai — Sakura hadn't laid eyes on the man once, this entire timeline.
Hm.
What about Sasuke?
...No. Bad idea.
Naruto?
...Also no.
She rubbed her chin and found her thoughts drifting, predictably, to Hinata.
Fine. As long as none of this becomes my problem, that's all I'm asking.
I, Haruno Sakura — celibate, unattached, solitary as the grave, the shinobi world's own ascetic recluse — just want to be left alone.
"So where are you headed, anyway? You only just got back."
"If you're free, you could come by the flower shop—"
Ino looped an arm through hers, animated.
"Sorry, Ino." Sakura glanced toward the Hokage Building visible up ahead, genuine regret in her voice. "Next time."
"Aw, come on—"
Ino pouted, visibly disappointed.
Before she could object further, Sakura was already gone — vanished from beside her in a single motion.
"That little—"
Ino stared at the empty space, jaw tight.
She's getting it next time.
Sakura made her way to the Hokage Building, thoroughly done with public attention for one day, and skipped the front entrance entirely, climbing in through a window instead.
Straight into the Hokage's office.
Sure enough — the old man, fixed in place like some kind of recurring NPC, respawned at his desk on schedule, exactly where she'd left him.
"Sakura?"
Hiruzen, mid-cigarette, blinked at the pink-haired girl climbing through his window.
Sakura took in the stack of paperwork in front of him and tilted her head, genuinely confused.
Does Konoha generate this much administrative work?
Why is the old man doing literally all of it himself?
Is everyone else in this village ornamental? Does the entire village's functioning run through one seventy-year-old man's desk?
☆☆☆
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