Hiruzen Sarutobi took a contemplative puff from his pipe as the steam from freshly poured tea rose gently from the cup before him. Across the room, his wife, Biwako Sarutobi, finished setting the tray down, her expression as calm as ever.
"Old man, that disciple of yours doesn't seem as terrible as you always say," Biwako said with a hint of amusement in her tone. She began clearing away the cups that had just been used by Orochimaru and the young boy he brought along—his new apprentice.
Hiruzen grunted, narrowing his eyes slightly as he flipped through the few odds and ends Orochimaru had left on the table. Among them, a pouch of fine tobacco.
"Hmph. I don't believe for a second he's being kind for kindness's sake," he muttered. The tobacco was undoubtedly of high quality—he could tell from the scent alone. And he even recognized the supplier. It came from the Nara clan's general store, a reputable business in Konoha. There was no chance it had been tampered with, not through that source.
"Then why send it regularly for months? It's been almost eight months now, hasn't it?" Biwako asked as she examined the tobacco herself. She had a good eye for such things. "If Orochimaru meant harm, would he really go to the trouble of sending it consistently? And he's always reminding you to get check-ups and take care of yourself."
Hiruzen didn't respond immediately. He looked away, his gaze distant.
"For the last several months, he's been the model of a loyal student," Biwako continued. "It's hard to say he's pretending—"
"—It's because I don't know what he's planning that I'm so uneasy," Hiruzen finally cut in, voice low and tight. He stood abruptly, waving a hand in frustration. "He's not the type to act without purpose."
Biwako didn't stop him. She had long since accepted her husband's cautious nature—especially when it came to Orochimaru. Hiruzen never smoked the tobacco Orochimaru sent. He'd always given it away or sold it off discreetly. It was a minor detail, but it revealed the depth of his mistrust. Even though the Sarutobi clan was not hurting for ryo, Hiruzen still refused to waste anything.
From the hallway came a familiar rasping cough. Biwako frowned. He'd been coughing more lately. Sighing, she walked to the cabinet and pulled out a pouch of chrysanthemum tea. The old man overindulged in his pipe far too often, and while she was used to his habits, she would still take care of him. The Sarutobi clan owed much of its current standing to her husband's long tenure as Hokage.
Meanwhile, in a modest apartment on the other side of the village, Kenichi Ryujin was busy packing. There wasn't much to take, but a few essentials had to come with him—including a leather-bound notebook full of sketches, diagrams, and formulas.
Many of them revolved around highly destructive weapons—thermobaric bombs, fuel-air explosives, and similar things. Modern marvels of his past life, now little more than theory here in the shinobi world.
"Still can't build any of this stuff yet... the materials just don't exist here," Kenichi muttered. He clicked his tongue in frustration. The blueprints were complete, but even with all the ryo he'd scraped together, some components just couldn't be sourced from the Elemental Nations.
"But maybe once I join Akatsuki, I'll have the funding..."
Kenichi smirked. The Akatsuki—still a budding organization at this point—would surely value what he could offer. With the right backing, he could show the world what true firepower looked like.
"What would a ninja army even do against a thermobaric bomb?" he wondered aloud. "Send in a bunch of jonin to countershockwaves?"
He chuckled darkly. The high-level combat power of the shinobi world was undeniably formidable. Just thinking of Madara Uchiha's Tengai Shinsei—summoning literal meteors from the sky—made Kenichi's blood race. That kind of force was world-ending.
Before he came to this world, he had studied Earth's inability to intercept incoming meteorites. Even the most advanced tech couldn't stop one effectively. If a single country could develop such a defense, they'd dominate the planet.
"But what if I could create something like that? Combine chakra with satellite-based weaponry? Starships? Orbital strikes?"
His heart beat faster at the thought. Chakra wasn't just a power source—it was a world-shaking variable. If he could integrate chakra into a thermobaric bomb…
"Well, that would be something worth testing."
A shame he lacked the materials. Otherwise, Kenichi would've loved to conduct a little "field test" right in the middle of Konoha. Just a small explosion—to make history.
"Kenichi, what are you grinning about now?" came a flat voice beside him.
Kenichi looked up. Kakashi Hatake was staring at him, chopsticks in hand, mid-bite. His lone visible eye was narrowed suspiciously.
Kenichi blinked. "Ah... nothing, really. Just had a funny thought."
Kakashi didn't look convinced. "If your 'funny thoughts' involve more explosion theories, maybe keep them to yourself."
Kenichi waved his hand and laughed it off. "Don't worry. Just daydreaming."
Still, Kakashi found himself smiling faintly. Kenichi's weirdness, while mildly alarming, was oddly comforting. Since Rin's death and Obito's presumed demise, the boy's strange optimism had helped distract from the darkness in his heart.
"You're weird," Kakashi muttered.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
However, he did come across some of the typical Konoha pranks—like the one where someone slipped a few risqué photos into the teacher's materials.
Kakashi merely curled his lips in mild amusement before continuing to eat his ramen.
Kenichi Ryujin cast a glance at him. Kakashi hadn't left the village recently, and unusually, he wasn't even wearing his signature mask. The ANBU, too, seemed strangely inactive.
But it was precisely this eerie calm that hinted to those paying attention: something big was on the horizon. Kushina Uzumaki's due date was drawing near.
Konoha seemed peaceful on the surface, but anyone with a bit of insight could sense the storm quietly brewing beneath.
Kenichi recalled that, in his past life, some online theories suggested that Kakashi might've unintentionally leaked the timing of Kushina's delivery—perhaps while talking aloud during one of his regular visits to the memorial stone for Obito and Rin.
Whether that theory was true or not, Kenichi wasn't certain. But he did know that Kakashi often muttered to himself when visiting their graves. If Obito was somehow alive…
"Kakashi, want to come over to my place the next few nights?" Kenichi asked casually, almost offhand.
Kakashi paused with his chopsticks mid-air. "To do what?" he asked, though not dismissively.
He hadn't been given any missions lately, and Minato-sensei had explicitly told him to remain in the village. Hanging out at a friend's house wouldn't break any rules.
"Well, I got my hands on some new books. And there are a couple of really popular board games out now. Thought it'd be more fun than sulking around alone," Kenichi said with a disarmingly innocent smile.
Games in Konoha weren't electronic, of course. They were the paper-and-wood variety—strategy-based, or sometimes just good for a laugh. And the new releases had been all the rage at the market lately.
"…Alright," Kakashi said after a moment. He had initially intended to spend his nights training, but something in Kenichi's expression made him hesitate. He couldn't bring himself to say no.
Kenichi's grin widened, satisfied.
He didn't actually know Kushina's exact due date, but keeping Kakashi nearby—whether at his place or by visiting Kakashi's house—seemed like a good plan.
Because when things went wrong, even the briefest distraction could be the key. And that key… might be what he needed to awaken the Mangekyō Sharingan.