Mito Uzumaki's death was like a small ripple in the ocean—silent and unnoticed by the wider ninja world.
The high-ranking officials of Konoha chose to keep it a secret. After all, this was the era of the Second Ninja World War. With Mito gone, Konoha had lost the deterrent power of the Nine-Tails.
The new Jinchuriki had not yet grown up—she was merely a nine-year-old child.
By concealing Mito's death, Konoha could keep the other nations in the dark about the true state of the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki.
At this time, all the key figures who had once founded Konoha were gone.
A gentle drizzle fell as only a handful of people gathered in front of a grave. Tsunade and Nawaki knelt, their shoulders shaking with grief.
Standing behind them were the Third Hokage, Danzo Shimura, and four other high-ranking officials of Konoha. Further back stood Jiraiya and Orochimaru, with Tatsumi Uchiha standing beside Orochimaru.
Mito had met Tatsumi before her passing, so he knew of her death. As Tsunade and Orochimaru's disciple, he was qualified to attend this small, secretive funeral.
"Hiruzen, how long do you plan to keep the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki isolated?" Danzo asked, his eyes fixed on Mito's grave, though his thoughts were elsewhere—on Kushina.
"One week," Hiruzen Sarutobi answered without hesitation.
"No, that's too short. How can we be certain the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki can fully suppress the beast in such a short time?"
"The time is sufficient. Lady Mito said that Kushina's chakra is unique and can easily suppress the Nine-Tails. If there's an issue, we'll know within a week."
Danzo's expression darkened, but he pressed on. "And after that? A strategic weapon of this caliber must be heavily guarded. I propose assigning Root operatives to ensure her protection. Root has an unshirkable responsibility in this matter."
Hiruzen sighed, irritation creeping into his voice. Mito had barely passed, and Danzo was already making moves on Kushina.
"Danzo, her name is Kushina—not 'Nine-Tails Jinchuriki' or a 'strategic weapon.'"
He continued firmly, "Lady Mito wanted Kushina to have a normal life. She wished for her freedom to remain unrestricted, and I intend to honor that."
Danzo's face twisted in displeasure. After a moment of silence, he adjusted his approach. "Then what of her safety? I insist on deploying Root operatives to protect her."
Hiruzen turned to face Danzo directly, his gaze sharp.
Danzo felt a chill run down his spine.
"That won't be necessary," Hiruzen stated. "I have already entrusted this matter to Sakumo Hatake."
Danzo's expression soured further. His proposals had been dismissed outright.
"Sakumo Hatake… Hiruzen, you will regret this decision. If anything happens to the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki, the responsibility will fall entirely on you!"
Hiruzen remained unfazed. "I am the Third Hokage. If anything happens, I will bear full responsibility. Besides, I trust that the Anbu are more than capable of preventing enemy infiltration and protecting Kushina."
Danzo scoffed before turning away.
With that, the funeral concluded. War loomed over them all, and the Third Hokage had much to attend to.
Tatsumi followed Orochimaru as they left.
As they walked through the streets of Konoha, Orochimaru spoke in a quiet, rasping voice. "Aging is such a futile thing… Even someone as powerful as Lady Mito could not escape death."
He suddenly turned to Tatsumi, his golden eyes glinting. "Tatsumi, as my student, there is something I want you to understand."
Tatsumi nodded.
"In this world, a ninja's tears are meaningless."
"You must be ruthless with yourself from the very beginning."
"At first, you may find your own cruelty unsettling. You may even weep."
"But in time, when your tears have run dry, pain will no longer touch you. Death will cease to be terrifying. Sometimes, you may even come to appreciate its inevitability."
Orochimaru placed a hand on Tatsumi's shoulder. "That's all I have to say. Tomorrow, I leave for the battlefield."
"Sensei, you're departing tomorrow?"
"Yes. Once this matter is settled, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and I will head to the Land of Rain. The situation there is unstable, and Sunagakure ninjas have already entered the region."
Orochimaru reached into his ninja pouch and pulled out an envelope.
"This is your payment for the last two missions."
He smirked. "Of course, Tsunade took a portion of it—said she'd save it for your future wedding."
Tatsumi blinked. Wasn't she supposed to be saving it for his retirement? How had it turned into a wedding fund?
He took the envelope, speechless.
"And this," Orochimaru said, handing him a pair of black-rimmed glasses.
Tatsumi examined them. "These are…?"
"Sakamoto's glasses. The ones he wore when you killed him. Despite the chaos of that battle, they remained unscathed. Consider them a trophy."
Tatsumi nodded. He might even have use for them in the future—especially if he ever awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan and suffered its inevitable consequences.
With that, the two continued on their way.
---
Meanwhile, deep underground, an old man reclined in a massive wooden chair.
He looked even more withered than he had three years ago. His face was a network of deep wrinkles, his frail form barely clinging to life.
In the dim light, a white, spiral-faced creature with brown hair carefully poured a cup of wine. A rich aroma filled the air.
The creature handed the cup to the old man, its swirling face tilting in curiosity. "Lord Madara, what does this taste like?"
The old man opened his eyes, revealing pupils marked by concentric rings of deep purple. He took a slow sip. "It tastes like Hashirama."
The spiral-faced creature hesitated. "But didn't you say Mito Uzumaki was the one you despised most?"
Madara's lips curled. "That's right. Which is why I'm pleased she's dead."
"Then why did you have me steal her wine?"
Madara scoffed. "This isn't Mito's wine. It's what Hashirama left for me."
The creature shrugged. "Fine, whatever you say."
Madara drained the cup, then murmured, "I once made a pact with Hashirama. If I won our battle, I would not move against Konoha until Mito Uzumaki was dead. I have upheld my end of the bargain."
Slowly, he raised his right hand. With steady, unflinching fingers, he reached up—
And dug out his own eyes.
Blood splattered, streaking his frail skin as he removed them.
"The time has come. Begin the plan."
The spiral-faced creature held the freshly plucked eyes—the last Rinnegan in existence.
"Take these to Nagato. He is to be their new wielder."
The creature nodded.
"Oh, and while you're at it…" Madara's voice was faint but resolute. "Fetch me a spare pair of Sharingan."
His words echoed into the darkness.
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