Five days passed in the blink of an eye.
Hokage Tower, third floor, main conference hall.
This was Konoha's largest indoor venue, capable of holding three thousand people. It was usually used for jōnin assemblies and major policy announcements. Today, it was fully activated.
Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, what came into view was a tiered arrangement of seats, rising layer by layer like a massive fan-shaped auditorium.
The ceiling was high, embedded with lighting seals. At this moment, all of them were lit, illuminating the entire space as bright as day.
At the very front stood a platform raised half a meter above the ground. Behind it, a massive white screen had already been set up, and the projection equipment was ready.
On both sides of the platform stood flags bearing the flame emblem of the Land of Fire and the symbol of Konoha.
Three thousand seats—now filled one by one with people.
No one spoke.
Three thousand people sat there in silence, waiting. Occasionally, someone would exchange a few quiet words, but even those were kept low, quickly dissolving into the vast space.
In the front rows sat familiar faces—the heads of major clans, Konoha's elite jōnin, and those legendary figures rarely seen in daily life.
Further back were the special jōnin and chūnin team leaders. They sat upright, gazes calm as they looked toward the empty platform ahead.
Outside, Konoha's civilians would occasionally glance toward the Hokage Tower.
They knew there was a meeting today. They saw the familiar ninja of the village, one after another, entering through those doors.
But they didn't know what was being discussed inside, nor what those people were listening to.
Especially the genin—standing on training grounds, at street corners, at the doors of their homes—watching the Hokage Tower from afar.
Some were curious. Some speculated. Some were simply struck by the spectacle.
But they could not enter.
Because today, only chūnin and above were qualified to attend—and even then, not just any chūnin. Only experienced ones, those serving as team leaders, were allowed in.
Inside the conference hall, all three thousand seats were now occupied.
And at the very front, in the central position, sat the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen. Draped in his ceremonial robe, hands folded over his knees, he gazed calmly at the empty platform.
To his left sat the two advisors, Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura.
To his right sat an unexpected figure.
Shimura Danzō.
The leader of Root, who usually kept to the shadows and rarely appeared in public, was now seated there expressionlessly.
Konoha's high command—completely assembled.
Silence.
All eyes were fixed on the empty spot on the platform.
Waiting for that person to appear.
The door at the back of the hall was pushed open, and all eyes turned toward it at once.
Framed by the light of the doorway, a figure walked in.
Higashino Shinichi.
He wore the standard Konoha green flak jacket, neat and orderly, his forehead protector properly tied in place.
Three thousand gazes fell upon him simultaneously.
Within those gazes—curiosity, scrutiny, expectation, complexity… and pride.
Shinichi walked down the central aisle. His footsteps echoed clearly in the silent hall. On either side, older ninja followed him with their eyes, watching as he made his way step by step toward the platform.
He reached the front, stopped, then turned to face those three thousand eyes.
Shinichi took a deep breath, then began to speak. His voice was clear—not loud, not soft—but it carried distinctly to every corner of the hall.
"First, I would like to thank the Hokage-sama and the three advisors."
He gave a slight bow toward the front row.
No matter what—thanking the leadership first was never wrong.
"By the Hokage-sama's and the three advisors' trust, I have been entrusted to stand here and discuss the coming war situation with all of you—my seniors and my colleagues."
"My experience is limited, and my qualifications are shallow. I am not truly suited to speak here."
His gaze swept across the faces before him—eyes weathered, sharp, composed.
"But since I have been entrusted with this task, I will present what I have seen and what I have thought, and share it with all of you."
The Third Hokage, seated in the front row, wore a satisfied smile. He raised his hands, about to begin applauding.
However—
Clap, clap, clap!
Crisp applause rang out—isolated, yet strikingly loud.
The Third Hokage's hands froze midair. He was momentarily stunned.
So were many others in the hall.
Because the one clapping… was seated in the front row, on the right.
Shimura Danzō.
The man who was always grim and unreadable, who never showed emotion, now sat there calmly, clapping one beat at a time. His face remained stiff, revealing nothing.
Utatane Koharu and Mitokado Homura exchanged a glance, both seeing the same thought in each other's eyes:
What the hell?
The Third Hokage's expression stiffened slightly. His raised hands paused midair as his gaze lingered for a moment on Danzō's expressionless face.
I haven't even started clapping—what are you clapping for?
In this Konoha, who's really in charge—you or me?
The thought passed through his mind in an instant. Then he resumed clapping, his movements natural, his smile gentle, as if nothing had happened.
As his applause began, the entire hall seemed to ignite. Applause spread like a wave.
The entire front row followed, then the second, the third—soon, the applause of three thousand people merged into a single roar, shaking even the ceiling lights slightly.
Shinichi stood on the platform, bathed in light.
He lowered his gaze slightly, taking in everything below.
Danzō being the first to applaud—that was a bit unexpected.
But only a bit.
His expression remained unchanged. He gave a slight bow in all directions, acknowledging the crowd. Yet his eyes, almost imperceptibly, swept across the faces below.
Those who applauded—he might not remember.
But those who didn't…
Heh…
When the applause finally faded and silence returned, Shinichi turned around to face the massive white screen behind him and gave a slight nod.
Swish!
The projector lit up, and a vast, detailed map of the ninja world appeared clearly before everyone.
The Land of Fire, the Land of Wind, the Land of Lightning, the Land of Earth, the Land of Water—the Five Great Nations were marked in different colors.
The smaller countries—Land of Rivers, Land of Grass, Land of Waterfalls, Land of Rain, Land of Hot Water—none were omitted.
Mountains, rivers, coastlines, border fortresses, key towns—every detail was crystal clear.
Shinichi stood before the map, the overhead light casting his shadow onto the screen behind him.
He raised his hand and pointed toward the western region—the Land of Wind.
"Please look here."
As his words fell, three thousand gazes shifted in unison toward the massive screen.
Then, Shinichi began.
He started with Sunagakure, analyzing in detail why Rasa had to start a war, why the target would inevitably be Konoha, and why it had to happen at this specific time.
From power structure, to economic foundation, to geographical conditions—he broke everything down, layer by layer, stripping it completely bare.
Below the stage, some frowned deeply, some fell into thought, some nodded unconsciously.
Namely, Minato's gaze rested on the young man on stage. His expression gradually shifted from focused attention to something more serious.
Beside him, Jiraiya folded his arms, brows tightly knit, staring at the map and the boy before it without a word.
Orochimaru tilted his head slightly. His golden, snake-like eyes stared unblinking at Shinichi. A faint smile slowly curled at his lips as his tongue flicked out unconsciously to lick them.
And in the front row, Tsunade never once took her eyes off the boy.
She watched him stand there, facing three thousand pairs of eyes, calmly dissecting the coming war.
The light poured down from the ceiling, enveloping him in a radiant glow, blending him with the vast map of the ninja world behind him.
For a fleeting moment, Tsunade felt dazed.
Her disciple… was shining.
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