During this time, Ōnoki wasn't the only one voicing such sentiments.
Across the shinobi world, many had begun to realize just how much destruction someone like Natsuhiko could bring to their villages.
Kirigakure, perhaps, was the least affected. The distance between them and Konoha was vast, and although they harbored deep resentment, they had no immediate plans to act.
They had their own internal matters to deal with. Even if they felt uneasy—or irritated—they couldn't afford to focus too much attention on this issue.
Kumogakure, however, was a different story.
When the Fourth Raikage saw Natsuhiko's record, his brows tightened immediately.
Much like Ōnoki, his emotions were conflicted.
On one hand, Kumogakure and Konoha had never formally signed a peace treaty. Their war had only paused—not ended. There was no agreement binding them, no real protection.
At the time, Konoha had been under siege from multiple fronts and didn't want to provoke further enemies. Meanwhile, the Third Raikage had fallen after facing ten thousand Iwa shinobi, and the Fourth Raikage had no desire to escalate things further.
Strictly speaking—
They were still in a state of war.
If Konoha chose to act… if they sent someone like him into Kumogakure—
It would be a disaster.
And that was something the Raikage absolutely did not want to see happen.
Yet at the same time—
He couldn't help but feel an urge.
An urge to face this man himself.
Back then, Minato Namikaze had held him and his brother—Killer B, the Eight-Tails jinchūriki—to a standstill, fighting two against one.
Ever since that day, he had wanted to reclaim that lost ground.
But reality was far harsher than ambition.
He had never been given the chance.
And now, as the Raikage, he couldn't afford to act on impulse. Every decision he made had to serve the village.
Recklessness would only bring disaster.
Still…
Time had passed.
He had grown stronger.
He no longer believed he would fare the same against Minato as he once had.
And now, someone even more outrageous had appeared—
Someone whose feats surpassed even Minato's.
There was no way he wouldn't be interested.
"Konoha…" he muttered, voice low.
"A land truly fertile in the birth of monsters."
"…How fascinating."
—
While the Kage of various villages were still grappling with the implications of Natsuhiko's actions, the man himself stepped out of his new home, wearing a rather complicated expression.
To conceal the truth of his Wood Release, his old house had conveniently been "destroyed in an accidental fire."
Naturally, Senju Shōma had arranged a brand-new residence for him.
And this time, both its size and location far surpassed his previous one.
Of course, it still wasn't in the heart of Konoha's most prosperous district—but it was a clear upgrade.
If his old place had been somewhere on the outskirts…
Then this one had finally made it "inside the ring."
Not that Natsuhiko particularly cared about such things—
But better conditions were always welcome.
That said…
There was something else that left him at a loss for words.
He was no longer living alone.
Ever since awakening Wood Release, he had already anticipated that his solitary lifestyle wouldn't last much longer.
This wasn't surveillance.
Of that, he was certain.
Given the potential he had displayed—and the strength he now possessed—Senju Shōma wouldn't dare act rashly.
Especially considering the faint, almost subconscious fear the elder sometimes revealed.
Natsuhiko understood that state of mind all too well.
Natsuhiko felt that the elder was overthinking things a bit.
Having been shaped by the values of his previous life, he wasn't the kind of person who would repay kindness with resentment.
Unless Senju Shōma genuinely intended to harm him—
Otherwise, Natsuhiko wouldn't make a move so easily.
Still, after some thought, he came to understand.
Different cultures, different upbringings… they shaped people in entirely different ways.
So even if he found the elder's attitude somewhat amusing, he had no intention of pointing it out.
After all—
Fear could be a kind of protection.
Not just for the elder…
But for himself as well.
"…Still, this arrangement—if you can even call it cohabitation—isn't bad."
"At least now I know who's been quietly cleaning my place all this time."
Walking down the street, Natsuhiko let his thoughts drift.
There was no way Senju Shōma would assign someone to monitor him—not anymore.
Even if that had once been an idea, the elder wasn't foolish.
The person he chose…
Was someone Natsuhiko couldn't easily dislike.
A quiet figure who had been silently maintaining his home.
Diligent. Reserved. Never overstepping boundaries.
Someone like that wouldn't earn affection—but certainly wouldn't invite hostility either.
And after Shōma's explanation—
That this was someone meant to walk alongside Natsuhiko in the future—
It softened things further.
Even if Natsuhiko felt a bit uncomfortable, he wouldn't show it.
Because yes—
The person arranged for him…
Was a woman.
And what the elder had said about "continuing the Wood Release bloodline"?
That hadn't been a joke.
For clans like the Senju—even in decline—some traditions remained unchanged.
Arranged marriages were one of them.
Strictly speaking, Natsuhiko's marriage had likely been decided long ago.
Shōma had simply never told him.
Whether that was part of some larger plan, no one knew.
But now?
He probably wouldn't dare to keep it hidden any longer.
"…I guess the one advantage of a big clan is not having to worry about finding a wife."
Natsuhiko let out a faint sigh.
"Though… this woman…"
His thoughts drifted back to the moment he first met her after moving in.
Beautiful—without question.
Not Tsunade's golden hair, but long, dark locks instead.
Paired with a face that faintly resembled Tsunade's elegance…
She was, undeniably, striking.
And yet—
There was something off.
She carried herself with a cold composure. Everything she did was precise, restrained—never resisting, never arguing.
The kind of person who, at a glance, seemed completely compliant.
Someone a man could do whatever he pleased with.
But Natsuhiko wasn't a fool.
He could sense it—
Beneath that surface, she wasn't nearly as "docile" as she appeared.
He hadn't spoken to her much.
And after learning her name…
He had even less desire to.
"…Senju Renge?" Are you kidding me?"
Walking down the street, the name brought back strange, fragmented memories from his past life. Combined with his own name, he wondered if the universe was playing a joke on him.
He continued his walk, but his path was suddenly blocked. Natsuhiko's brow furrowed.
"Are you Fukami Natsuhiko?"
The young man standing before him spoke directly. His tone carried a trace of arrogance, though his demeanor was still somewhat restrained.
Natsuhiko lifted his gaze and examined him carefully.
It didn't take long before his expression shifted.
"…Uchiha?"
As an ANBU, his observational skills were razor-sharp. The moment he encountered a stranger, he instinctively began piecing together their identity.
And soon enough—
He noticed the clan emblem embroidered on the man's sleeve.
There was no mistaking it.
The Uchiha crest.
What puzzled him, however, was something else entirely—
He didn't have much to do with the Uchiha clan.
At most, there were only two connections.
One was Uchiha Obito—who, by now, was likely acting as the true Mizukage of Kirigakure, as well as the shadow behind the Akatsuki.
Clearly, that man no longer counted as part of Konoha.
The other…
Was a former classmate.
A girl who had once shared a desk with him.
After he joined ANBU, they had practically lost contact.
Though they had run into each other again recently, his workload had left no room for deeper interaction.
Especially since he knew she intended to join the medical corps—
In his eyes, that only made her seem… overly naïve.
Coupled with her Uchiha background, the two of them simply had no meaningful overlap.
If it wasn't those two—
Then why would an Uchiha come looking for him?
The thought felt abrupt, almost out of place.
But Natsuhiko showed none of it on his face.
"Yes. I'm Natsuhiko." His voice was calm, polite. "And you are? What do you want with me?"
"It's not me who wants you."
The Uchiha shook his head, his tone leaving little room for refusal.
"Come with me. You'll understand soon enough."
"Don't keep them waiting."
Natsuhiko raised an eyebrow, then gave a slight nod.
He agreed.
Not because he felt pressured—
But because he simply didn't care.
With his hidden identity, the only one in the Uchiha clan who might pose even a slight threat to him…
Was Uchiha Fugaku.
After all, Fugaku wasn't just the clan head—he was also the captain of the Konoha Military Police Force.
As for the rest?
Natsuhiko didn't take them seriously at all.
As an ANBU division commander, his authority was already considerable.
Of course, that identity couldn't be exposed casually.
Even though he had moved beyond the lowest tier of operatives who required absolute secrecy—
Until he reached ANBU Commander-level authority, his presence could only be acknowledged within ANBU itself.
Which meant—
He couldn't act too openly.
If anything needed to be handled, he'd either have to put on a mask…
Or let his subordinates take care of it.
At the end of the day, he was a division commander—someone who commanded an entire unit.
...
Following the Uchiha, Natsuhiko made his way into a teahouse.
What caught his attention, however, was something else entirely—
Across the street, he spotted several ANBU operatives.
They had clearly recognized him.
But they were in the middle of a mission, and even if they had identified him, they didn't approach. Besides, Natsuhiko was technically on leave.
Subtly, he made a small tactical hand sign in their direction.
The ANBU hesitated for a brief moment… then nodded.
That hesitation told him everything he needed to know—
They weren't from his Third Division.
Still, it didn't matter.
ANBU was ANBU. Regardless of division, when faced with a commander, obedience wasn't optional.
With that taken care of, Natsuhiko followed the Uchiha up to the second floor of the teahouse.
His eyes swept the room once—
And quickly locked onto his target.
An elderly man, seated calmly.
An Uchiha.
"You go on ahead," the young Uchiha said in a low voice. "Don't cause trouble. I'll be watching."
"Is that so?" Natsuhiko smiled faintly. "Understood. I'll cooperate."
With that, he walked straight toward the old man.
—
Across the street, in the shadows—
A small group of ANBU had gathered.
"Captain… was that Division Commander Nightingale?" one of them asked in a hushed tone.
"Yeah. That's him."
The squad leader nodded.
"He's not wearing a mask, but I've seen his face once at headquarters. I'm certain."
Ever since becoming a division commander, Natsuhiko had rarely worn a mask within ANBU.
Still, very few had actually seen his true face.
This squad leader was one of the lucky few—having caught a glimpse by chance at headquarters.
There was no way he'd mistake him.
Even months ago, he hadn't been qualified to participate in the division commander selection…
But he had watched the entire process.
And what he saw had left a lasting impression.
Natsuhiko's strength had been nothing short of overwhelming.
His rise to division commander hadn't surprised him in the slightest.
If anything—
In terms of sheer ability, Natsuhiko had been the only real choice.
"Captain, what do we do now?" another operative asked quietly. "We don't have enough people to carry out Division Commander Nightingale's orders."
"Call for backup," the squad leader replied after a moment's thought. "There should be members of the Third Division nearby."
"We can't handle this with just us."
"Move fast. Stay quiet. Complete the mission."
"Understood!"
The three operatives nodded in unison.
In the next instant—
They vanished.
The squad leader lingered, his gaze fixed on the teahouse.
Then, forming a hand seal, he channeled his chakra.
A puff of smoke burst outward—
And split into two identical figures.
A shadow clone.
Immediately after, he formed another seal.
His appearance shifted.
A perfect transformation.
Only then did he calmly make his way toward the teahouse.
He had briefly considered reporting this up the chain of command—
But after thinking it through, he dismissed the idea.
This was a matter involving a division commander.
Someone of his rank had no business interfering.
At most…
He'd report it to his own division commander later.
...
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