Minato's concern was sharp—and painfully realistic.
The impact of Hikaru's actions on Konoha's internal structure was beyond imagination. And it wouldn't stop at Konoha's walls either. What happened last night would spread outside the village almost immediately.
Every village had spies. That wasn't a secret.
For the great villages, keeping those spies alive was often more practical than killing them. Information flowed both ways—policies, movements, shifts in power. As long as it didn't touch core secrets, most villages would simply turn a blind eye.
And when a village needed to redirect public anger or "clean house," those spies became convenient targets—captured, executed, and loudly advertised for effect.
So long as they didn't go too far, they were usually safe.
That "safe environment" meant that during the Nine-Tails incident, they could transmit intel back to their nations at the first possible moment.
Konoha couldn't stop it—even if they wanted to.
After all, Konoha was drowning in chaos. Who had time to hunt spies when half the village was burning?
Hiruzen could already imagine it: by now, every Kage's desk would have a report about last night. Casualty numbers might take time to confirm, but Hikaru's performance had been impossible to ignore.
If Konoha failed to reward him properly, the chain reaction would be something even Hiruzen couldn't predict.
And reality matched that expectation.
At this very moment, reports about the Nine-Tails incident were already sitting in the offices of every major village.
Sunagakure — Land of Wind
In Suna, Rasa stared at the report with a stormy expression.
If there was a village tied to Konoha by the most tangled history, it was Sunagakure.
The Third Great Ninja War had begun with Suna's attack on Konoha—
—and Suna had also been the first to surrender.
Even after that, when Konoha chose a temporary alliance for stability, everyone knew what that "alliance" really meant.
Otherwise, why would Suna ANBU have disguised themselves as Iwa ninjas to raid Konoha outposts?
Why would there have been an ambush after Konoha returned and his people?
That ambush, in particular, had been a humiliating disaster.
Over a hundred shinobi died—two full ANBU squads, an entire sealing unit, and more.
Worse, their cipher codes were compromised… because Konoha had obtained the intel from the "Pakura mission."
The scale of Suna's losses was obvious.
And Rasa had etched one name into his memory after that incident:
Nightingale—Konoha's "armor" in the shadows.
He'd had a premonition then that this person would shake the shinobi world.
Now, the Nine-Tails incident seemed to confirm it.
The report said an ANBU had blocked the Nine-Tails alone.
At first, Rasa couldn't be sure.
Back then, Nightingale's most terrifying strength had been his Flying Thunder God and conventional elemental ninjutsu.
But when Rasa reached the description of the mask—
he went cold.
The description matched, exactly, what Suna's shinobi had reported months ago.
ANBU masks didn't change. That was true in every village. It was an identity sealed in tradition.
Even if an ANBU retired or died, the mask stayed with them—unless it was passed on to a successor.
It wasn't just the mask. The body type, the movement, the silhouette—
Everything matched.
At that point, Rasa was almost certain:
The one who stopped the Nine-Tails… was Nightingale.
And then he flipped to the next page.
The moment he read the section marked Wood Release—
Rasa's hands began to tremble.
He couldn't stay seated.
"This bastard… he's Senju. He's actually Senju!"
Rasa slammed his fist onto the desk.
The desk shattered instantly under the force.
But he didn't even notice.
His thoughts were chaos.
He'd never imagined Nightingale was a Senju.
If he were just an ordinary Senju, it would be one thing.
But the shadow of Senju Hashirama still haunted every village.
Wood Release… the power that made the entire shinobi world tremble.
The reason Konoha could hold the Nine-Tails.
The reason Konoha had stood as the strongest village.
Then came the "relief" of history:
Hashirama and Madara, the monsters of their era, both gone.
Their deaths had made the whole world breathe easier.
And now—
a new Wood Release user had appeared.
And according to the report, he had used Wood Release to restrain the Nine-Tails—alone.
Rasa didn't fully understand how terrifying the Nine-Tails was in combat terms, but one look at Konoha's devastation gave him a rough estimate.
Someone who could do that…
was a nightmare.
"Lord Kazekage."
The office door opened.
Chiyo stepped inside, frowning as she looked at Rasa.
She had heard that urgent intelligence had arrived from Konoha, so she'd come immediately.
If there was anyone in Suna who truly hated Konoha to the bone, Chiyo was certainly one of them.
She had never forgotten what Hikaru had done.
But she hadn't expected to see Rasa like this.
"Chiyo-sama, you're here."
Rasa forced his emotions down, picked up the report from the floor, and handed it to her.
"Read it. You'll understand."
Chiyo frowned, took it, and began reading.
Her expression changed fast.
Her lips trembled.
She read it again—slowly—like she was hoping the letters would rearrange themselves into something else.
Then she looked up.
"Is it confirmed?" she asked, voice shaking. "Is it really that bastard?"
"We need to verify further," Rasa sighed. "You can ask your brother to confirm it more thoroughly."
"I understand," Chiyo murmured.
"This is… not good."
Rasa's eyes darkened.
"It's bad news."
Kumogakure — Land of Lightning
In Kumo, the Fourth Raikage stared at the report in silence.
He had received it at dawn.
At first, he hadn't taken it too seriously.
When he read that Konoha had been ravaged by the Nine-Tails, he'd even felt pleased.
He had been Raikage for over a year now. After a year of restructuring and purges, he had largely consolidated power.
There were still stubborn "elders" clinging to influence with their seniority—
but he no longer feared them.
They would either be swept into history's trash heap…
or fall in line.
Because he left them no mercy and no retreat.
He was impulsive, yes—but one year as Raikage had forced him to learn.
And he had ambition carved into his bones:
He wanted Kumo to replace Konoha as the strongest village.
So even now, he had never truly made peace with Konoha.
They weren't openly at war—
but they weren't truly at peace either.
Kumo's losses in the Third War were significant, especially after the Third Raikage's death.
But the real damage had been "soft power."
Their image suffered. Their task income suffered.
Small nations didn't trust them for even simple commissions.
"Because our Kage died," they whispered.
The Fourth Raikage had always found it infuriating.
Did Konoha not lose Kage too?
Why did his father's death become a "shame," while his father's legend—fighting ten thousand shinobi alone—was ignored?
And even then, Kumo hadn't truly stopped fighting.
So why did people act like Kumo "lost"?
Those questions had burned in him—and fed his desire to surpass Konoha.
But today, a new piece of intel arrived.
A piece of intel that made even him feel disbelief.
"Another Wood Release user in Konoha… another Senju rising?"
His gaze sharpened.
Hashirama's legend was something every Kage learned about. And Wood Release—the power that even tailed beasts feared—was the nightmare of older generations.
Kumo still had veterans who once encountered Senju Tobirama directly.
That had happened during an attempt to capture the Eight-Tails.
The result had been a catastrophe.
The First Raikage, elites, and even the Eight-Tails had been handled like children.
No openings. No mercy. No chance.
That kind of terror wasn't from the same world.
"And it's Nightingale," the Raikage muttered, eyes narrowing.
"The same bastard who tore through Suna… and he has Flying Thunder God too."
Flying Thunder God.
The Fourth Raikage knew that technique all too well.
Minato's Flying Thunder God had been the shame he hated remembering.
Two on one—him and Killer B—yet they still couldn't take Minato down.
Minato had forced them into a draw.
Humiliation.
And now he was reading that this Nightingale was only fourteen or fifteen.
And yet:
Flying Thunder God.
Wood Release.
Skilled with Water Release and Earth Release too.
Was this monster training since birth?
Or was he the kind of genius who mastered a technique the moment he saw it?
"This is like a fusion of the First and Second Hokage," the Raikage muttered, exhaling.
Then—
his eyes lit up.
Not fear.
Not hesitation.
A fierce, almost feral excitement.
"Interesting."
He grinned.
"Very interesting."
He didn't intend to abandon his ambitions.
Yes, Hikaru was a headache.
But the Raikage was born in the Land of Lightning.
Aggression lived in his blood.
A rival like this didn't make him retreat.
It made him want to fight.
A challenge like this…
was exactly what made the world worth conquering.
"Nightingale," he said slowly.
"Or Senju… whatever your real name is."
"I'll remember you."
Iwagakure — Land of Earth
In Iwa, Ōnoki calmly flipped through documents at his desk.
Huangtu stood beside him, restless, trying not to fidget.
He didn't dare interrupt his father while he worked.
But he hated standing there like a statue.
Everyone dreamed of becoming Tsuchikage.
Huangtu understood that.
He also understood the weight that came with it—because he watched his father carry it every day.
Honestly?
He didn't like this life.
He preferred battle.
Even if he knew his father was trying to shape him, trying to hand him a higher starting line…
Huangtu simply didn't want it.
But he couldn't oppose Ōnoki either.
His father wasn't a gentle old man.
So Huangtu endured.
Until one day, perhaps, his father would give up.
But what irritated him most today was that Ōnoki had been reading far longer than usual.
What kind of report had his father so absorbed?
Then Ōnoki suddenly spoke.
"How interesting."
Huangtu finally breathed out.
"Father… what is it?"
Ōnoki glanced at him, then nodded slightly.
"You did well today. You didn't rush me."
He paused, then shook his head faintly.
"As for what I'm reading…"
He stared at the papers, voice low.
"It makes one feel… the shinobi world really does move in cycles."
Ōnoki fell silent for a moment.
War was one cycle.
Everyone knew war was poison—
but for development, for profit, for survival, villages still threw themselves into it, again and again.
The First War.
The Kinkaku and Ginkaku coup in Kumo—Second Raikage dead, and the Second Hokage trapped.
The spark that lit the continent.
The Second War.
Hanzo's ambition in the Rain Country.
A war that dragged everyone in—whether they wanted it or not.
The Third War that had just ended…
was, in truth, a war of redirected contradictions—made worse because every village had recovered just enough to let ambition rise again.
A cruel, ridiculous cycle.
But this time, it wasn't only war.
It felt like time itself had looped.
Konoha had produced… that kind of person again.
Nightingale.
Ōnoki remembered him.
The one who stirred chaos in the Land of Wind months ago, and who also used Flying Thunder God.
When he heard Konoha had suffered a Nine-Tails disaster, Ōnoki had been pleased at first.
Five great villages didn't like each other.
A rival bleeding was always an opportunity.
Less competition meant more task income.
More influence.
More leverage.
But when he read Nightingale's performance, he could only sigh.
That man had… reduced the disadvantage for Konoha.
"Cycles?" Huangtu scratched his head, confused. "Did someone die?"
Ōnoki looked at him quietly.
"It would be more accurate to say…"
"Two ghosts have returned."
Huangtu looked even more confused.
Ōnoki sighed, then tossed the report toward him.
"Fine. Read it like this:
"Konoha's Nine-Tails broke free. It devastated the village. Half of Konoha is gone."
Huangtu's eyes lit up immediately.
"Isn't that great? Half the village destroyed? Doesn't that mean Konoha has basically regressed forty or fifty years?"
Ōnoki froze.
Then he rubbed his chin, thinking.
Comparing modern Konoha to Konoha from forty or fifty years ago…
He exhaled.
"…You're not wrong."
"Konoha really has regressed forty or fifty years."
His gaze darkened.
"Not only in scale…"
"But even the ghosts of that era have come back."
The shockwave of last night had already spread across the shinobi world.
And Hikaru's existence forced every Kage to reconsider their future moves.
Only the Hidden Mist seemed less concerned—
but for a very simple reason:
Their Kage was already under control.
And the man who orchestrated the Nine-Tails incident…
was part of that chain.
None of that mattered to Hikaru right now.
Because for him, this was only the beginning.
And he had something far more important to take over:
The ANBU.
ANBU was not something you handled slowly.
Not something you handled carelessly.
It was a chunk of meat so rich it attracted wolves.
And the authority ANBU held was enormous.
That was why their official numbers were kept absurdly small.
An ANBU "division" had barely thirty members.
In normal Konoha structure, a division would have four to five sub-units, with nearly ten squads per sub-unit—around two hundred shinobi total.
But ANBU?
They basically treated the size of a sub-unit as an entire division.
The reason was obvious:
Too many ANBU meant too much power concentrated in one place.
Even Root was similar—small official numbers, but with a key advantage:
They could grow quietly through long-term infiltration missions abroad.
ANBU, being far more visible, didn't have that freedom.
Now, Hikaru had already changed into ANBU attire and put on his mask.
The appointment document was in his hand.
He needed to move fast.
"Hiruzen already knows," he thought. "If I give him time to react, he'll act first."
He couldn't allow that.
Minato could hold the line by name alone.
Minato's recovery meant Hikaru had space.
So Hikaru planned to act decisively—without holding back.
Soon, he arrived at ANBU Headquarters.
He paused, feeling a strange sense of emotion.
This wasn't his first time here.
In six years of ANBU service, he had entered this place dozens of times.
But this time was different.
Because now he was walking in as the true master of this place.
As the one who would command ANBU.
"If I'd never joined ANBU… if I'd gone to the battlefield instead…"
He murmured softly, almost as if speaking to his past.
"Maybe I'd just be a normal shinobi now."
"Maybe after the Nine-Tails incident, I could even aim for Jōnin Commander."
Jōnin Commander.
One of the most important positions in Konoha's history.
Don't let the word "commander" fool you—it wasn't a small post.
Konoha's elites, clan heads, and key pillars were all concentrated within the jōnin system.
Even the selection of a Hokage was, in practice, drawn from that core.
The only one who truly broke that rule in the future…
was Naruto.
Hikaru didn't even remember whether Naruto ever became a jōnin.
He'd opened Sage Mode against Konohamaru by accident—so maybe the idiot never even made chūnin.
Hikaru shook his head and walked inside.
He wasn't going to waste time dreaming about the Jōnin Commander seat.
If he ever held that position, Hiruzen would already be defeated.
Konoha would already be in his palm.
As long as Hiruzen remained upright, Hikaru had no hope of it.
And besides—
his rank was hidden the moment he entered ANBU.
Whether he was technically jōnin now or not… he didn't care.
When he reached the main hall, he saw it:
All ANBU were already assembled.
He nodded slightly.
Before arriving, he had ordered the Third Division to notify everyone—pause all missions and gather immediately.
The order was outrageous, considering he had only been the Third Division Commander.
But after last night…
no one dared refuse him.
Not even the First and Second Division Commanders.
They had seen what he could do.
They had seen how terrifying he was.
And now they knew something even worse:
He wasn't just strong.
He was Senju.
Under countless gazes, Hikaru walked forward.
Slow.
Steady.
He didn't go to the front of the Third Division.
He continued forward—toward the highest position in the hall.
That movement made the Third Division's eyes blaze with pride.
Others who witnessed his power watched with burning intensity.
But the First and Second Division Commanders' expressions changed.
This was… an overstep.
Last night had already been an overstep.
Killing the ANBU Minister—classic insubordination.
And if you added the fact that he had killed Root members and humiliated Danzō…
then this wasn't a one-time mistake.
This was a pattern.
"Was there no punishment?"
The two commanders felt cold.
"Did the village… actually…"
Under the gaze of every ANBU, Hikaru reached the very front.
He turned around to face them.
After a long silence, he lifted his hand—
and removed his mask.
A warm, gentle smile appeared on his face—bright as sunlight, almost comforting.
Then his voice rang through the hall.
"Hello, everyone.
"I suppose this is our first time meeting without masks for most of you.
"My name is Hikaru."
"…Senju Hikaru."
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