"Lord Hokage... is Lord Ikki actually asleep?"
Meeting Ikki for the first time was a shock to Kato Dan's system. As he stared, his expression shifted from reverence to a look of utter bewilderment.
By the riverbank, Ikki stood with a fishing rod in hand, perfectly balanced—and fast asleep.
"Hiruzen," Utatane Koharu whispered, her eyes fixed on the legendary ninja. A snot bubble expanded and contracted rhythmically from Ikki's nose with every breath. "Do you think Mr. Ikki has been in retirement so long that he's lost his edge? Look at him. If we sent him to the front lines like this, a Genin with a stray shuriken could take his head before he even woke up."
"Watch your tongue, Koharu!" Hiruzen Sarutobi snapped, though his own gaze was filled with uncertainty.
He remembered the stories. In his prime, Ikki was a force of nature. Even the proud Uchiha Madara had been forced to give the man a wide berth. But that was a lifetime ago. The Second Hokage, Tobirama, used to say that Ikki was the only shinobi whose blade never dulled with age—but for all Hiruzen knew, that could have been nothing more than professional courtesy between old friends.
"Lord Third," Kato Dan interjected, his voice low and urgent. "With all due respect, we cannot entrust the future of Konoha to an elderly Genin who dozes off while fishing. Let me test him."
Hiruzen hesitated. The idea tempted him, but he maintained a mask of stoic hesitation. If Ikki really was past his prime, the village needed to know. But if Tobirama's praise had been literal... offending a man like Ikki was a death wish.
"Lord Third, I will take full responsibility," Dan persisted, misreading the Hokage's silence. "I will apologize until I am blue in the face if I cause offense."
Hiruzen sighed, feigning reluctance. "Just this once. But Dan—be careful."
"Understood!"
Dan's hands blurred through a series of complex seals. "Spirit Transformation Technique!"
Just as Dan's soul prepared to eject from his physical coil, a heavy palm slammed onto his shoulder. The weight was tectonic. What looked like a casual, friendly gesture drove Dan's knees into the dirt with a bone-jarring thud.
"Kid," a raspy, sleep-laden voice grumbled. "You've got a lot of nerve disturbing an old man's nap. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but there's no need to go groveling on your knees just because you woke me up."
Ikki blinked, looking down at the kneeling Dan with a confused tilt of his head. He had only meant to steady the boy, yet here the kid was, kissing the grass.
This Kato Dan... he's a bit fragile, isn't he? Ikki thought, suppressing a yawn. If Tsunade actually ends up with him, her married life is going to be exhausting. The youth of today just don't have the stamina of us old-timers.
"So fast..." Koharu gasped.
"When did he move?" Homura added, his glasses sliding down his nose.
Hiruzen remained silent, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. Even with his heightened perception, he had barely caught a flicker of Ikki's movement. If that hand had been a kunai, Dan would be a corpse, and the three Elders wouldn't have fared much better.
The panic in their chests was instantly replaced by a wave of intoxicating relief.
Konoha is saved.
"So... this is the weight of 'Iron Fist' Ikki," Dan muttered, his mind reeling as he remained pinned to the earth.
"Look, kid, if you like the dirt so much, stay there as long as you want," Ikki said, turning his attention to the three elderly leaders. "As for you three—shouldn't you be busy running the office into the ground? Why are you out here forming a welcoming committee for my fishing trip?"
Ikki's tone was sharp with irritation. When he had retired to the back mountains, he'd told Hashirama and Tobirama in no uncertain terms: Leave. Me. Alone. He just wanted to live long enough to see what all the fuss was about in the next generation. Instead, he got the 'F4' trio breathing down his neck.
"Mr. Ikki, please forgive the intrusion," Hiruzen said, stepping forward with a deep, respectful bow. "But the situation is dire."
Hiruzen didn't sugarcoat it. He spoke of the internal rot, the tragedy of the White Fang's suicide, and the Sannin being pushed to their breaking point on the battlefield. He spoke to Ikki not as a Hokage, but as a student speaking to a relic of the era that built their world.
"White Fang killed himself?" Ikki's brow furrowed, his eyes darkening. He gave Hiruzen a long, piercing look. "You really are Tobirama's student, aren't you? You didn't inherit his genius for jutsu, but you certainly inherited his knack for making a mess of things. Tobirama managed to scheme Madara out of the village; you managed to drive your best soldier to a blade through his own gut. Impressive, in a tragic sort of way."
"Mr. Ikki, it wasn't—Danzo was—" Hiruzen stammered, cold sweat pooling at the nape of his neck. He felt Dan's eyes on him and felt the sudden, desperate urge to shift the blame.
"Save it. I don't care about your office politics," Ikki interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "You've turned the village into a sinking ship, and now you want the old man to grab a bucket. That's the long and short of it, right?"
"Yes," Hiruzen whispered. "For the sake of the Senju brothers, and for the peace they bled for... please, Lord Ikki. Come back to us. I promise, I will rein in Danzo. No one will ever disturb your peace again."
Ikki went quiet. His cynical, sharp eyes softened for a fleeting moment, replaced by a haunting nostalgia. The relentless march of time had claimed everyone he knew. The Senju brothers, his old rivals, his friends—they were all just names on stones now, with grass growing tall over their graves.
He looked at the river, then back at the desperate men before him.
"Hashirama... Tobirama..." Ikki sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of decades. "Fine. Let's see if there's anything left of this village worth saving."