In truth, Natsuhiko hadn't put much thought into what to call this new identity of his—the one that relied solely on Tailed Beast chakra.
Whether it was something like "Ginji" or even "Aizen," the name itself didn't really matter. The only purpose was to conceal the fact that he was Senju Natsuhiko.
Even if he called himself something completely random—like Itou Makoto or Hirasaka Ryūji—it wouldn't make any difference.
Because of that, he didn't dwell on it.
After escorting Sara and the others safely into the Land of Tea, Natsuhiko turned without hesitation and set off toward the Land of Grass.
Dealing with the Rōran refugees alone had already cost him more than a week.
Although he had to admit that the gains had been extraordinary—his strength had improved significantly—there were still many things he needed to take care of.
"Fortunately, my chakra reserves are more than sufficient now," he thought as he moved swiftly across the terrain. "And with the Nine-Tails Chakra Mode enhancing my sensory abilities, I can save quite a bit of time."
With his heightened perception, he could detect the Flying Thunder God marks he had left behind from incredible distances.
And once he located them, his immense chakra allowed him to perform long-range teleportation with ease.
Back during the Fourth Great Ninja War, the reason Minato Namikaze and the others had been able to traverse vast distances so quickly was largely due to the infinite chakra granted by the Edo Tensei.
Otherwise, no matter how sharp their sensory abilities were, reaching their destinations so effortlessly would have been impossible.
In just about two days, relying on both the Flying Thunder God Technique and his own rapid movement, Natsuhiko arrived within the borders of the Land of Grass.
Even he found that speed somewhat unbelievable.
Though he felt a trace of fatigue, his physical condition allowed him to recover fully with a proper rest. So he spent the night within the Land of Grass, setting out again early the next morning.
Geographically, the Land of Grass was wedged between the Land of Wind, the Land of Earth, and the Land of Fire—a position as unfavorable as that of the Land of Rain.
But the Land of Rain had once produced a terrifying figure: Hanzo of the Salamander.
It was only through Hanzo's overwhelming strength during the Second Great Ninja War that the country had managed to maintain its footing among the surrounding powers.
Combined with his reputation and the ceaseless rainfall that plagued the land, few dared to intrude upon it, allowing many dark events to unfold there unnoticed by the outside world.
The Land of Grass, however, was a different story.
Though it had its own hidden village, Kusagakure lacked truly powerful shinobi. Worse still, even its own ninja were unreliable.
As a result, the country had effectively become a battleground for Konoha and Iwagakure—two of the great shinobi powers.
The only reason it continued to exist was its value as a buffer zone… and as a provider of minor mission work.
...
Moving swiftly through the country, Natsuhiko found the landscape somewhat familiar. Although he had never fought on the front lines during the Third Great Ninja War, his time in the ANBU had involved numerous war-related missions.
It didn't take long before he silently arrived at the outskirts of Kusagakure.
Looking at the village—so poorly defended it was almost laughable—he couldn't help but smile faintly.
"So it's still like this," he murmured. "Back then, I thought it was just because of wartime shortages. But now… it seems they're simply not even trying."
The sheer lack of vigilance was surprising, though not entirely unexpected.
After all, the Land of Grass was notoriously corrupt—so it was hardly surprising that its hidden village was no better.
Kusagakure's defining trait had always been its focus on studying the techniques of other nations, along with its proficiency in gathering intelligence… only to resell it to the highest bidder.
It was precisely because of those two traits that Natsuhiko remembered this village had nearly been wiped out at one point.
And in truth, Kusagakure's greatest value wasn't in protecting the Land of Grass at all—it was in supplying manpower and security for a certain place: Hōzuki Castle.
Within the Land of Grass stood a massive prison, known as the Blood Prison. In the future, even its warden would be a jōnin from Kusagakure.
The main reason Natsuhiko remembered all of this, however, was because of something tied to that prison—
the so-called Box of Ultimate Bliss.
It was rumored to be a treasure left behind by the Sage of Six Paths, and over time, the legends had only grown more exaggerated. Some even claimed it could grant any wish.
But Natsuhiko knew better.
That was all nonsense.
Inside that box wasn't a miracle—
it was a monster.
A being formed entirely of chakra, with terrifying destructive power.
"…A monster, huh?"
As Natsuhiko walked casually through Kusagakure, having already blended seamlessly into the village, a thought suddenly struck him.
"If it's pure chakra… could it serve as food for Little Nine-Tails?"
The idea surfaced almost instinctively. Without hesitation, he directed the question inward, toward the small Nine-Tails residing within him.
The response he received, however, was uncertain.
"I don't know," the little Nine-Tails replied, its voice echoing faintly in his mind. "That big guy doesn't seem to have any memory of the box either."
After a brief pause, it added, somewhat hesitantly:
"We could try, I guess. But I can't guarantee anything. And in my current state… I'm not really suited to handling that kind of chakra."
"…I see." Natsuhiko nodded thoughtfully before asking another question, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Then what about other Tailed Beast chakra? Can you fuse with it?"
"I'm not sure," little Nine-Tails answered immediately, clearly understanding where this was going without needing further explanation. Its tone turned casual, almost indifferent. "You're thinking about the Ten-Tails, aren't you?"
"…"
"Honestly, I can tell I wouldn't like that state," it continued, "but it doesn't seem completely impossible either. As long as the others aren't too annoying."
"I get it." Natsuhiko let out a soft chuckle and didn't press the matter further.
The Tailed Beasts were independent entities, after all—it was only natural they wouldn't be fond of merging into something like the Ten-Tails.
Still, Natsuhiko had already grown accustomed to little Nine-Tails' presence.
If he ever managed to obtain and cultivate chakra from the other Tailed Beasts, he would likely find a way to integrate it directly into the Nine-Tails instead—allowing it to retain its individuality while still benefiting from that power.
For him, that approach would be far simpler… and far more convenient.
With that thought in mind, Natsuhiko lifted his head slightly, his gaze settling on an unremarkable little shop in front of him.
The last time he had come to the Land of Grass, this was where he had met with ANBU contacts.
Later, however, he had learned the truth—
this place didn't belong to the ANBU at all.
It was a base established by Root.
Still, Natsuhiko didn't particularly care. Getting useful intelligence out of Root wasn't exactly a bad thing.
"At worst," he thought with a faint smirk, "I'll just have to teach them a lesson if necessary. Those guys have always been a bit too full of themselves…"
...
THUD!
Inside the shop's basement, the last remaining Root shinobi slammed violently into the wall before sliding down and collapsing onto the ground.
Natsuhiko shook out his hand and let out a quiet sigh.
Just as he had expected, these Root operatives had no intention of cooperating with him.
At first, they had been polite enough after he entered.
But the moment he stated his name, his position, and his demand for their cooperation—
they refused without hesitation.
That kind of response was something Natsuhiko had no intention of tolerating.
After all, in terms of rank, he was effectively on the same level as their superior, Danzō.
So he acted decisively.
Without giving them any chance to fight back, he struck them down one by one.
Besides… he had been wanting for a while now to properly use the power that belonged to "Senju Natsuhiko."
"Tell me," Natsuhiko said calmly, his tone almost casual. "what's the consequence of disobeying a superior's orders?"
He paid no attention to the Root shinobi sprawled across the ground, groaning in pain. Instead, he casually pulled over a chair and sat down, a faint smile resting on his lips as he spoke.
"While it's true that, as the head of the ANBU, I technically don't have direct authority over Root, don't forget—we're all shinobi of Konoha."
His gaze swept over them, sharp and unwavering.
"My position outranks yours. No matter how much backing you think you have, you do not get to defy my orders."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice turning colder.
"If you have objections, you report them back to Konoha—not challenge me directly. So tell me… do you even understand what you're doing?"
"W-we understand…" one of the less severely injured Root shinobi managed to say, his voice strained with pain. Even though Natsuhiko hadn't gone all out, the damage he inflicted was far beyond what an ordinary person could endure.
"But… we are Root operatives… without Lord Danzō's orders, we—"
"I see."
Natsuhiko nodded faintly, as if he had reached a simple conclusion.
"In that case, I'll just kill you all and gather the intelligence myself."
There was even a trace of regret in his expression, as though he found the situation mildly disappointing.
"What a waste," he continued, almost sighing. "You were trained to serve Konoha… yet you don't even understand who you truly serve. That kind of shinobi is nothing more than a drain on the village's resources."
As his words fell, he drew a kunai without hesitation—
—and threw it.
These Root shinobi had already lost their ability to fight back. During his time in the ANBU, one of the first things Natsuhiko had learned was human anatomy—where the body was weakest, how to incapacitate someone instantly… or how to kill them just as quickly.
Right now, these men were no different from targets waiting to be struck.
"Pfft—!"
The kunai sliced through the air and pierced straight into one shinobi's heart. Before the man could even fully collapse, Natsuhiko had already drawn a second blade.
"Whoosh—!"
The next kunai flew out just as swiftly, embedding itself deep into another shinobi's neck.
There had only been four of them in the basement.
In the span of a single breath, two were already dead.
No explanations were allowed.
No resistance was possible.
And as the remaining two watched Natsuhiko—still smiling, as though he had merely completed a trivial task—a chill crept into their hearts.
Root shinobi were known for their unwavering resolve.
But these were field operatives, not those fully indoctrinated into Root's inner ranks. Like the ANBU, Root used a special system of organization, and these men still retained a stronger sense of loyalty to Konoha itself rather than to any single individual.
They were, in a way, more like Kabuto—caught between allegiance and identity.
Even if they followed Danzō's commands… even if they believed in absolute obedience—
facing someone like Natsuhiko, who radiated such overwhelming authority and killing intent, their resolve began to waver.
"P-please… stop!"
As Natsuhiko raised a third kunai and aimed it at another of them, the shinobi finally broke.
"I'm sorry! We were wrong—disobeying a superior is a crime worthy of death!"
His voice trembled as he forced the words out.
"But we have important duties here… we—we're willing to cooperate with you, Commander!"
Natsuhiko said nothing.
He simply stared at the man, the tip of the kunai still trained on him.
Only after a long moment did the blade slowly lower, its point turning toward the ground as Natsuhiko rose to his feet, that same faint smile returning to his face.
"Wouldn't it have been better to realize who you are sooner?" he said lightly. "You're shinobi of Konoha—not private soldiers of Danzō."
"Yes… yes, sir! I was wrong!"
The man answered immediately—too quickly, in fact. The sudden movement pulled at his injuries, and he couldn't help but break into a fit of coughing.
"Take it easy," Natsuhiko said softly. "There's no need to rush. What I want is very simple—just some information."
"Y-yes, sir…! Please, just tell me!" The Root shinobi endured the pain and forced out a clear response.
Natsuhiko seemed quite satisfied with his attitude, and slowly lowered the kunai in his hand.
There were still two left.
But he had no intention of killing them all.
Killing one or two for disobedience was one thing—but if he went too far, it would start to damage his reputation.
His action immediately allowed both surviving Root shinobi to breathe a faint sigh of relief.
After putting away his kunai, Natsuhiko thought for a moment, then spoke again in a slightly teasing tone.
"According to ANBU intelligence, there are survivors of the Uzumaki clan scattered within the Land of Grass."
"Red hair, strong sensory abilities… a village like Kusagakure, which specializes in research, wouldn't be able to resist studying people like that."
He smiled faintly.
"And you Root shinobi… given how fond you are of digging into other people's secrets, I assume you wouldn't ignore something like this either, would you?"
...
"Haaah… Kusagakure is still the same as ever."
On the streets of the Land of Grass, a man with long white hair slowly stepped out of a tavern, a massive scroll strapped to his back and a "油" (oil) kanji forehead protector tied around his head.
It was Jiraiya.
Ever since leaving Konoha, he had been traveling across the shinobi world. Or more precisely—ever since the war ended, he had been following Tsunade's trail while wandering from place to place.
At least, that was his explanation: that he was gathering inspiration for his new novel. Whether that was truly the reason, no one could say for sure.
But one thing was clear—Jiraiya was in a fairly good mood.
The Hokage Building in Konoha was like a vast swamp. Once you fell into it, escape became nearly impossible.
Jiraiya was not someone suited for survival in such a place, nor did he wish to be swallowed by it. That was why he had no interest in becoming Hokage.
It wasn't foolishness—it was self-awareness.
Especially after meeting his disciples at Mount Myōboku.
The Nine-Tails incident had shaken the entire shinobi world, and Jiraiya was no exception. But after receiving reports confirming that Konoha's losses were not too severe—and that his students were safe—he had finally been able to relax.
In particular, learning that Minato had survived had lifted a great weight from his heart.
Kushina and Naruto were also safe. Though their condition was not ideal, it was still the best outcome among worst possibilities.
What shocked him most, however, was hearing of Minato Namikaze's return from death.
He knew about the Reaper Death Seal—but he had never known there was a way to reverse it.
And even more unexpectedly, he learned that the now-famous "Konoha Nightingale" had played a far deeper and more unsettling role in the Nine-Tails incident than anyone had imagined.
"The Leaf Village really is a terrifying swamp…" Jiraiya muttered to himself, his expression growing more complicated. "Even a child that young can scheme so deeply… planning so many things in advance… is this still the Konoha I know?"
After learning more about Natsuhiko, Jiraiya felt even less inclined to return to the village.
With the burden on his mind finally lifted, he had decided to continue his journey in search of inspiration.
Minato and the others now had their own path—training in senjutsu and mastering the Nine-Tails' power—so there was no need for him to interfere.
But just as Jiraiya was preparing to leave, the Great Toad Sage, Gamamaru, suddenly appeared before him and delivered a message that would stay with him forever.
"Great Toad Sage… why have you summoned me?"
When Jiraiya arrived before the Great Toad Sage, he maintained his usual respectful demeanor.
"Little Jiraiya…" Gamamaru spoke slowly, his eyes still closed, his voice drifting as if he were speaking in a dream. "It seems I have once again seen something in my dreams."
"I saw a very unusual young man appear. He possesses unimaginable power… and ambition to change the entire shinobi world."
"Ambition?" Jiraiya's mouth twitched slightly at the word. For a moment, he even wondered if the Great Toad Sage was still half-asleep and choosing his words poorly.
Changing the entire shinobi world—wasn't that supposed to be a good thing? If anything, "determination" seemed like a more appropriate term.
But he didn't dare interrupt the giant toad. Instead, he lowered his head obediently and carefully considered what he had just heard.
A strange young man with unimaginable power, and the resolve to change the entire ninja world?
That description… sounded exactly like the Child of Prophecy.
Jiraiya was no stranger to that term. Ever since he came to Mount Myōboku, his life had been intertwined with these mysterious prophecies.
He knew his student would become someone who would change the shinobi world. He also knew that same student might one day become its destroyer.
In order to figure out how to guide that child's future, Jiraiya had once directly asked Gamamaru for advice. The answer he received was simple: travel the world, write, and observe.
And so, Jiraiya had set out across the shinobi world, witnessing its countless faces—its joys, its suffering, its contradictions.
He believed that only by truly understanding the world could he figure out how to change it… and how to guide his student onto the right path.
"Yes," Gamamaru continued slowly, interrupting his thoughts. "Ambition."
"A very real ambition. What he is doing far exceeds anything you or I could imagine. From our perspective, it may even look like he is destroying the shinobi world."
"But strangely—and undeniably—everything he does is also changing it. He is indeed someone who brings about transformation."
"And this time, in my vision… he is not your student. If things go poorly, he may even become your enemy."
The Great Toad Sage's voice was long and heavy, and Jiraiya's eyes widened slightly at the revelation.
The prophecy had changed.
The so-called Child of Prophecy was not his student—and might even become his enemy?
What… had happened to cause such a drastic shift?
Could it be… that the Great Toad Sage was simply confused in his sleep?
"I know what you're wondering, little Jiraiya."
Gamamaru spoke again, his voice still slow and deliberate, yet carrying an unmistakable weight that left no room for doubt.
"I am also puzzled. But this time, my dream lasted longer than usual—and what I saw was far clearer."
"So even though it is unfortunate… this may be the most accurate vision I have ever had."
"…Is that so?" Jiraiya lowered his head slightly, still struggling to process what he had just heard.
He trusted the Great Toad Sage. The ancient being had never been wrong before.
And yet… why had the prophecy changed?
What had altered the future so drastically?
What in the world was happening?
"Little Jiraiya," Gamamaru's voice sounded once more as the silence stretched on.
"Even though that young man is not your student… you will still meet him. And your paths will inevitably cross."
"I don't expect you to guide him," the Great Toad Sage continued slowly, his voice heavy with age, "but I hope you can at least help him feel kindness."
"There is kindness within that child's heart, but it is not pure. It is something that has been ignited and sustained by ambition."
"And remember this... that child..."
...is a young man where Indra and Asura intertwine, accompanied by nine beasts... or perhaps just one?
Walking through the streets of the Land of Grass, Jiraiya silently repeated the prophecy the Great Toad Sage had given him.
But the more he thought about it, the more incomprehensible it became.
Indra and Asura—those sounded like names, but who exactly were they?
And "nine beasts or one beast"… what was that supposed to mean? Did the child travel with beasts by his side?
"This is really… impossible to make sense of," Jiraiya sighed helplessly.
Still, he was an optimistic man. If he couldn't understand it, then he simply wouldn't dwell on it.
After all, the Great Toad Sage had said he would eventually meet that boy. Perhaps everything would become clear then.
"Hmm?"
Suddenly, Jiraiya stopped walking. His gaze shifted toward a small shop nearby.
As a disciple of the Third Hokage, one of the legendary Sannin, and a wartime commander, he immediately recognized what this place was.
Yet today, it felt eerily quiet. Too quiet.
And more importantly, he picked up a faint but unmistakable scent of blood.
"Something happened here?"
Jiraiya frowned, then quickly moved closer.
Even though he had left Konoha for the time being, he had not forgotten that he was still a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf.
If something was wrong, he had a duty to investigate—and if necessary, resolve it.
...
"So this is the place."
Natsuhiko stood at the entrance to a basement.
It had to be said—the setup here was quite clever. It wasn't located in the center of Kusagakure, but rather in a relatively remote area. Yet at the same time, it was positioned in a way that allowed reinforcements from the village to arrive quickly.
The Root's operational capability really was disturbingly efficient; they had managed to dig out a place like this without anyone noticing.
But at the same time, those Root operatives—or rather, Danzo himself—had clearly kept something back.
According to what he had learned from the Root ninja earlier, they had already reported the existence of the Uzumaki survivor back to headquarters, only to receive a single order in return: continue surveillance.
That made Natsuhiko suspect that Danzo had his own intentions. Perhaps he wanted to secure the Uzumaki descendant for himself rather than handing her over to Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Given the situation in Konoha at the time, such a move would have been perfectly in line with Danzo's interests. After all, Kushina Uzumaki was safe and sound, so there was no immediate urgency regarding the Nine-Tails jinchūriki.
Keeping a hidden card would have been beneficial—at least to him.
But as fate would have it, even Danzo likely never expected the deaths of Minato Namikaze and his wife.
That one unexpected twist had left his "hidden card" buried until his death, never to be played in securing the Nine-Tails.
If he had retrieved this Uzumaki descendant earlier, he might have had at least a sliver of a chance.
"Who goes there!"
Just as Natsuhiko was thinking about Danzo, several figures suddenly appeared around him.
Their formation was precise, surrounding him completely while also cutting off any possible escape routes in coordinated layers.
However, Natsuhiko's expression did not change in the slightest. His sensory perception had already locked onto them long before they revealed themselves, and he had even confirmed the situation deep beneath this underground facility in advance.
For any shinobi, intelligence was everything. No matter how strong one was, without proper information, even the mightiest could fall.
But Natsuhiko already had the intelligence—and the strength.
That was why he stood there so casually, as if none of this mattered at all.
"I'm here looking for a woman," Natsuhiko said calmly. "I have to admit, your methods of dealing with a woman and a child are quite impressive—and it seems you value them quite highly as well."
He paused slightly as he spoke, the chakra within his body beginning to circulate faintly.
"So asking you to hand her over probably isn't realistic. In that case… I'll just take her myself."
The moment his words fell, he vanished from where he stood.
One Grass ninja didn't even have time to react before a thin line of blood appeared across his throat.
"Attack him!"
The leader of the Grass shinobi had no idea what was happening, but instinctive fear still surged through him. His voice cracked and twisted as he roared the command.
Unfortunately, the sound had barely left his mouth before his eyes widened in shock.
His throat had already been cut. He could clearly feel blood flooding his airway, and all that came out was a gurgling, broken sound.
Two people died in an instant. And yet none of them had even seen how the enemy moved—or where he was now.
The Grass ninja had never encountered anything like this before. Terror quickly spread through their hearts.
"Grass Release: Exploding Palm!"
Even so, among the terrified shinobi, one still dared to strike.
A young ninja surged forward, chakra erupting violently from his body. Unable to locate the enemy, he could only unleash a wide-range attack to cover everything around him.
His courage seemed to inspire the others. The surviving Grass ninja quickly followed suit—forming hand seals, swinging weapons, attacking in all directions.
But it was all utterly meaningless.
A ninja blade wreathed in pale blue chakra swept through the battlefield like a ghost, leaving behind afterimages so fast they blurred the line between illusion and reality.
In the blink of an eye, all of them collapsed into pools of blood.
And the young ninja—the first to attempt resistance—was kicked brutally to the ground by Natsuhiko.
Only then did he finally manage to see his opponent clearly again.
But by that point, every single one of his comrades was already dead.
"Not bad," Natsuhiko said lightly, flicking the blood off his blade. He smiled down at the young man before him.
"You even managed to inspire courage in others. I have to say… I really dislike people like that—those who can ignite conviction in others."
"Although they're worthy of respect… they're also very troublesome."
"I hate people like you too!" the young Grass ninja spat through gritted teeth, struggling to suppress his fear.
"Someone like you… you should be locked away in a prison!"
"Maybe so," Natsuhiko replied with a faint smile. "But ordinary prisons don't have the courage to take me in."
He casually twirled a kunai in his hand.
"Well then… let's end this."
As he spoke, a deep blue chakra flared from the kunai. In the next instant, he spun and hurled it violently behind him.
The kunai tore through the air like a streak of lightning. Trees along its path were shredded by the sheer force of its passing wind pressure—some even snapped clean in half.
At that exact moment, a figure suddenly leapt out from behind a large tree.
Natsuhiko's gaze locked onto him instantly. He had already sensed this presence earlier and assumed it was another Grass ninja waiting to ambush him.
But now that he clearly saw the person's face, his expression turned slightly strange.
"…Why is it him?"
...
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