The white slip of paper burned and faded in Naruto's fingertips, then was washed away by the current, leaving no trace. Silence returned to the room, but the stone cast by "Zero" stirred the necessary ripples in Naruto's heart.
A hero forgotten by the Village. A meritorious official driven to death by public opinion. An ambitious man named Danzo.
This was not just an old case; this was the sharpest key that could pry open the balance of power in Konoha.
Early the next morning, the sky was overcast, as if it was about to rain. Naruto did not go to the training ground. He changed into the most ordinary gray casual clothes, submerging himself in the crowd of villagers hurrying to work, and walked towards an unassuming building in the center of the Village.
The Konoha Archives.
This place stored all records since the Village's establishment, serving as Konoha's memory center.
"Young man, what are you looking for?" The archivist was an old woman with white hair. She pushed up her reading glasses on her nose, looking at the golden-haired youth before her with a hint of scrutiny. Ninja, especially Genin, rarely came to such a place voluntarily.
"Grandma, I want to look up the business registration information and tax change records for the commercial district of the Land of Fire from twenty-three to twenty years ago," Naruto said calmly.
The old woman was stunned; this question was completely beyond her expectation. Not mission scrolls, not Ninjutsu data, but old commercial archives? She sized up Naruto; the child didn't seem to be joking.
"Those things are all on the third basement level, old and messy. Go find them yourself," she said, handing Naruto an access permit, then ignored him.
The archives' basement was cold and damp, the air filled with the mixed scent of decaying paper and dust. Naruto lit an oil lamp and navigated through the labyrinthine shelves. He didn't look like a Ninja searching for secrets, but rather a cold auditor verifying a bad debt.
He quickly found the dust-covered dossiers and spread them out one by one on the long table. The names of shop owners, registration dates, tax amounts... These dry data, in Naruto's eyes, outlined a network of public opinion from over twenty years ago.
He cross-referenced the names of these shop owners with the Genin and Chunin rosters from the same period. His fingers moved slowly across the two lists, and soon, a clear pattern emerged.
The owners of seven shops were among the most active attackers of that "hero" during the public opinion storm of that year. And within half a year after the incident subsided, the names of these seven people uniformly disappeared from the public Ninja roster. Their files were collectively transferred to a non-public department code-named "Mole."
This was one of Danzo's subordinate departments.
Found it. Naruto closed the dossier, and dust fell in a flurry.
He returned to the first floor and handed the access permit back to the old woman.
"Thank you, Grandma," he said politely, then as if remembering something, he casually asked, "Oh, by the way, could you help me check the mission failure dossier for Hatake Squad from the autumn twenty-two years ago?"
The old woman was dozing, and upon hearing the surname "Hatake," her eyelids twitched imperceptibly. She slowly raised her head, her face showing a perfectly appropriate look of difficulty.
"Ah, what you're asking about is unfortunate. The mission scrolls from those years were severely damaged due to mold in the warehouse. Especially the mission you mentioned, the core records are long unreadable. What a pity."
Her words were flawless, and her expression showed no cracks.
Naruto looked at her, not pressing further, just nodding: "Is that so? That's really inconvenient. Sorry for bothering you."
He turned and left without hesitation. Stepping out of the archives' door, a chill washed over him. It had started to drizzle at some point, and cold raindrops hit his face.
The clue was broken, but a name was already on the tip of his tongue.
No matter how much controversy there was during his life, no matter how his archives were purged, any Ninja who sacrificed for Konoha would eventually go to the same place.
Naruto changed direction and walked towards the Memorial Stone on the back mountain of the Village.
The rain grew heavier, washing over the dark stone monument, making every name engraved on it seem even more profound. In the rain, a silver-haired figure was already standing there, like a lonely statue.
Kakashi Hatake.
One hand in his pocket, the other gently caressing the name "Uchiha Obito" on the stone, he was enveloped in an unresolvable sadness.
Naruto did not approach immediately, just stood a short distance away, rain dripping from his hair. He looked at Kakashi's back, not as a student looking at a teacher, but with a calm scrutiny. This man, long bound by the ghosts of the past, had a huge spiritual void. But at the same time, this obsession had also forged him, becoming his source of strength. A sword sharpened by sorrow, yet also fragile because of sorrow.
Kakashi noticed the movement behind him and turned back with some surprise. Seeing that it was Naruto, a flicker of life appeared in his otherwise lifeless eye.
"Come to see a comrade?" he asked casually, his voice somewhat muffled by the rain.
Naruto shook his head. He walked to Kakashi's side, his gaze also falling on the cold stone monument, and replied in a calm tone completely unbefitting his age.
"No, I'm here to understand the cost."
These two words, like a key, precisely entered the deepest lock in Kakashi's heart.
Kakashi's body stiffened for a moment. He slowly withdrew his hand from caressing Obito's name, his gaze following the stone monument to another name not far away.
Sakumo Hatake.
"Cost..." he repeated softly, his voice heavy with self-mockery, "Sometimes, living costs more than dying."
The rain had soaked his silver hair, making him look even more dejected.
"Sensei hasn't told you my story yet, has he?"
Kakashi's tone was gentle. At this moment, he wasn't trying to educate Naruto, nor did he know what inspiration his story could give Naruto. He simply felt that as an elder, he should show the younger generation the full picture of this world.
"My father, Sakumo Hatake, was known as the 'Konoha White Fang.' Once, he was a hero of the Village," Kakashi's voice was very soft, as if he were recounting a story unrelated to himself, "until one mission, he chose to abandon it to save his comrades. The mission failed, and the Village suffered heavy losses."
"Then, everything changed. Those who once praised him began to curse him. Even the comrades he saved, under everyone's accusation, turned around and blamed him for not completing the mission."
"Finally..." Kakashi's voice trailed off, and he closed his only exposed eye, "He gave up on himself."
Konoha White Fang, Sakumo Hatake.
"Zero's" intelligence, Danzo's public opinion offensive, the failed mission, the hero's death... All the clues, at this moment, perfectly pieced together, forming a cold and cruel closed loop.
Naruto looked up at the man beside him, immersed in past pain.
The direct relative of the victim.
The key witness.
And... the best weapon to ignite it all.
He looked at Kakashi, no longer a student needing guidance, nor an elder worthy of sympathy.
He was looking at a holy image, stained with blood and tears, that could be used to awaken the populace and judge the guilty.
And now, this holy image was right at his fingertips.
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