c2: Sarutobi Hiruzen
In the wide square beneath the Hokage Building, hundreds of Konoha ninja assembled in tight ranks.
Among them were genin fresh out of the Academy, seasoned chunin, battle-hardened jounin, sharp-eyed ANBU in animal masks, and both civilian-born and clan-born shinobi gathering close to a thousand in total.
Not a single whisper echoed through the square. An oppressive silence clung to the gathering like a storm cloud.
The enemy force approaching from the west pressed heavily on everyone's minds. While it wasn't enough to suffocate, the sheer tension was crushing.
A thousand shinobi small in number compared to Konoha's total force were all that remained to defend the village directly. Most of the Leaf's military strength was entangled across the Land of Fire's borders, spread thin in multiple theaters of war.
After all, this was a four-way front. Iwagakure, Kumogakure, Sunagakure, and Kirigakure had launched offensives over time, forcing the Leaf to defend on all sides. Reinforcements from the frontlines could not arrive in time to repel a sudden push to the capital.
Had it not been for the mutual enmity between the great villages, which prevented full cooperation among them, Konoha may have already fallen...
Then, from the top balcony of the Hokage Tower, a figure stepped into view.
Clad in his formal white robe embroidered with the kanji for Fire, and wearing the Hokage's ceremonial hat, stood Sarutobi Hiruzen third Hokage of the Hidden Leaf.
He was around fifty years old, and though strands of grey crept into his hair and beard, his posture was straight and his chakra aura robust. In the ninja world, where chakra nurtures the body and sharpens reflexes, fifty was far from elderly. It was the peak of a shinobi's accumulated strength, both physical and spiritual.
The Hiruzen depicted in the original series was in his seventies, well past his prime. By then, his strength had dulled, his body weakened, and only his experience kept him standing.
But the man before them now was still strong still the "Professor," feared and respected across nations.
Hiruzen took a long breath and removed his Hokage hat. His gaze swept the crowd. Then, in an act few had ever witnessed, he bowed low at the waist.
The gathered shinobi rippled with surprise. The sight of their village leader its strongest man bowing with such sincerity sent a wave through the ranks. Even hardened veterans flinched in shock.
Only a few, like Uchiha Gen, remained unmoved.
Hiruzen's voice, amplified by a light chakra technique, rang out clearly over the crowd.
"Because of my misjudgment, the forces of Kumogakure and Sunagakure have breached the Land of Fire's interior. Now, the Village Hidden in the Leaves faces its gravest threat since its founding. This fault lies with me."
"I understand that apologies mean little on the battlefield. Therefore, when this war ends regardless of victory or defeat I shall step down as Hokage. Konoha's future must be guided by new leaves, not the errors of old roots."
"My life is of no consequence. What matters now is our home our ancestors' dream. I ask you, no I beg you to defend that dream with your lives."
"Please!"
Hiruzen bowed again, and this time he held the position for several seconds, unmoving.
That gesture broke something in the crowd. The quiet resentment and fatigue built over months of war the frustration at losses, the fear of annihilation were tempered in that moment.
Shinobi are not politicians. They are warriors, trained from youth to obey, to act, to complete missions.
Seeing their Hokage humble himself with such weight, many felt their anger dissipate. The enemy was at the gates. Now was not the time for bitterness.
Even Uchiha Gen, who had always viewed Sarutobi with a quiet disdain, found his hatred dulling.
Still, it did not vanish. Gen disliked hollow gestures made after things had gone wrong. What was Hiruzen doing all this time while danger crept ever closer?
Yet for him to admit fault so publicly whether out of guilt, strategy, or pressure was at least something. Late justice is still preferable to none. And Gen knew from experience: nothing is more dangerous than a leader who won't admit they were wrong.
"Swear to protect Konoha to the death!"
The shout came from somewhere in the center of the ranks. No one knew who spoke first, but the words struck a chord.
"Swear to protect Konoha to the death!"
"Swear to protect Konoha to the death!"
"Swear to protect Konoha to the death!"
Voices rose from a murmur to a chorus, thunderous and unified. Fists were clenched, eyes blazed with resolve, and the square erupted with warlike energy. The chanting grew louder, echoing into the morning sky.
Even Gen raised his voice not from genuine fervor, but to avoid standing out. He mimicked the passion, mimicked the fury.
Swear to protect Konoha to the death? He scoffed inwardly.
He had no sense of belonging to this village. His life mattered more than this patch of land and its system.
Sure, Konoha would likely win. It was still the strongest of the five great powers. But if things started to collapse, Gen was already planning his exit.
After all survivors don't bury themselves with the dead.
When the roaring chants died down, Sarutobi Hiruzen's voice pierced the charged air. "All shinobi, immediately follow Shinnosuke to the southeastern border of Konoha and set up a defense perimeter. I'll join you once I'm in battle gear."
Sarutobi Shinnosuke his full name was not only the Hokage's son but also the Minister of Konoha's ANBU Black Ops, a position reserved for the most elite ninja. His wife, a highly capable kunoichi, served as Deputy Minister, and together they formed the command core of Konoha's most covert force.
"Yes, sir!"
Whoosh, whoosh...
A thousand figures launched skyward in a flurry of chakra and motion, leaping like a cascade of shadowy birds. They darted through the vast forests and steep cliffs surrounding the village an aerial ballet honed by years of training. The shinobi moved in synchronized rhythm, their speed and precision varying by rank and experience.
This formidable force passed by Kikyo Castle, a historic fortress northeast of Konoha once the site of key skirmishes during the First Great Ninja War and pressed on toward Mount Kikyo, a strategically elevated forested area just outside the village boundaries. It was there, amidst dense foliage, that four ANBU appeared before the Hokage, who had donned his flak vest, ninja sandals, and shinobi garb, leaving his ceremonial robes behind.
The four masked operatives landed silently, kneeling on one knee. The squad leader, identifiable by his white dog mask and long windbreaker, spoke with urgency.
"Lord Hokage. The combined forces of Kumogakure and Sunagakure are less than forty miles from our position."
"What?!"
Sarutobi Hiruzen's expression turned grim. "How did they close the distance so fast?"
His jaw tightened. "Damn it!"
With years of battlefield command under his belt, the Third Hokage immediately issued countermeasures. "Relay orders have the jounin and tokubetsu jounin establish a defensive line on-site. We'll intercept them here."
"Deploy a secondary force to stage a delaying assault buy us time to stabilize our position."
"Tell them not to engage recklessly. Pull back when necessary. Our priority is time!"
"Yes, Lord Hokage!"
The ANBU, including those who had barely rested after their last operation, vanished in a flash, leaving behind only Shinnosuke and his wife.
Sarutobi Hiruzen stood atop the forested slope, scanning the endless sea of trees. The weight of leadership bore heavily on him, but the fire in his eyes reignited. There was no time for despair the enemy was already too close, and hesitation would spell destruction.
Konoha must not fall not on his watch.
ANBU messengers raced ahead, using chakra transmission techniques and messenger toads. In moments, the frontline commanders were alerted.
Under the coordination of jounin and tokubetsu jounin, Mount Kikyo was designated as the defensive center. Teams began deploying barrier tags, chakra tripwires, paper bombs, and pitfall traps across the mountain's natural chokepoints from the southern base to the northeastern ridgeline.
The war had forged survivors these shinobi were tempered by blood and loss. With their commanders issuing swift orders, they executed formations and trap placements with mechanical precision.
Stress gnawed at every ninja's nerves, but not a single one panicked.
From day one at the Academy, shinobi are taught that panic is poison. A calm mind is a ninja's greatest weapon.
In the Uchiha defensive sector, located near the eastern slope, shinobi dispersed swiftly into assigned zones. On a small grassy ridge, just as the last squad moved out, Uchiha Yashiro called out.
"Gen, wait."
Uchiha Gen turned. His posture was composed, his voice steady. "Does Captain Yashiro have orders for me?"
"Stay close to me during the battle," Yashiro said flatly.
The meaning was clear: he intended to personally watch over him.
Only now did Gen realize why he'd been assigned no teammates and no mission earlier he was being treated as a precious asset.
Is this the privilege of genius? he thought.
It was… pleasant. But it also meant certain techniques would be harder to deploy with Yashiro watching.
Still, the battlefield was ripe for harvesting. All enemies. No moral dilemmas. No guilt.
"Thank you, Captain, but I don't require special protection."
"The Uchiha are born for war. I'll survive."
Gen spoke with calm confidence, a tone that projected strength.
Yashiro raised an eyebrow but did not push. Instead, he nodded with approval.
"That's the spirit expected of an Uchiha."
"Then I'll place you as a squad leader."
Gen hesitated. His eyes darkened.
"Captain… I haven't recovered from my last squad's death. If I make the wrong call again…"
He trailed off. His fists clenched. Sadness clouded his expression, his head lowering as memories surfaced.
Yashiro understood.
He knew the story: Gen's squad had perished in a brutal engagement, triggering the awakening of his two-tomoe Sharingan. The trauma had left a scar.
The captain sighed and placed a hand on Gen's shoulder.
"You've awakened the second tomoe. After recovering, you've trained in several advanced techniques from the clan archives. Your raw power exceeds most chunin."
"But solo combat isn't just about power. Without field experience, even Sharingan users can fall to coordinated enemy teams."
"Are you prepared for that?"
Gen nodded solemnly. "I am."
"I won't engage teams with jounin. If I face a chuunin-led unit, I'll rely on misdirection and ambush tactics disruption, division, and assassination."
"My primary targets will be unled genin or poorly coordinated squads. I won't fight head-on unless I control the field."
"If I spot elite-level shinobi, I'll retreat without hesitation."
Yashiro gave a satisfied grunt.
"Good. You're thinking like a shinobi, not a hero. That's what will keep you alive."
"Then go. Fight smart and come back alive."
"Yes, sir."
Gen bowed briefly, then blurred into the forest.
His hunt had begun.
The battlefield was chaos, but in chaos, souls were easiest to claim.
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