Konoha's dango really were famous—especially the three-colored ones, a favorite among countless shinobi.
Natsuhiko remembered that Anko Mitarashi, Orochimaru's former disciple, had been absolutely obsessed with them. A true die-hard fan.
Unfortunately, he himself had never really tasted them.
It wasn't that he hadn't bought them before. Back when he was a child, he'd purchased them quite often—but almost always for someone else.
Especially for the girl who used to sit beside him in class. No matter how upset she was, a single skewer of dango was enough to coax a smile back onto her face.
The memory made Natsuhiko chuckle softly to himself.
Back then, he had neither the strength he wielded now nor the status he currently held. And yet… those days had been genuinely happy. Life had been simpler. There had been less to worry about, fewer burdens pressing down on him.
Still, happiness or not, he had no desire to return to that time.
People only move forward. The beauty of the past exists to inspire something even greater in the future.
Before long, Natsuhiko arrived at the dango shop with Renge in tow.
As he stepped inside, he noticed quite a few people nearby drifting toward the shop as well. It was subtle, but unmistakable.
The Four Senju had done their job well.
Officially, he was here to speak with Senju Renge in private. In reality, however, the matters he needed to discuss involved secrets of the ANBU. Natsuhiko had no habit of whispering conspiracies in plain sight—and given that he commanded such a vast covert force, it would be a waste not to make use of it now and then.
After all, it wasn't the first time he'd taken advantage of his position.
"Boss, I'll have some of your specialty dango," Natsuhiko said casually as he found a decent seat. He didn't forget to order what he used to get all those years ago.
"Coming right up!" the middle-aged owner replied with a warm smile.
But when he got a proper look at Natsuhiko, he paused for a moment, then let out a small laugh. "Well, if it isn't you, kid."
Natsuhiko blinked in mild surprise. "You know me?"
"I wouldn't say I know you," the man said with a nostalgic smile, "but you used to come here all the time, years ago. Must've been… what, five or six back then? Hard to believe you've grown this much."
"I see." Natsuhiko nodded, smiling faintly. "Yeah, I did come often. But later on, work got busy—I didn't have much time anymore."
"Ahh, I get it now." The owner slapped his palm as if a realization had struck him. "Because of the war, right? You've all worked so hard these past years. This one's on me—I'll even give you a little extra!"
Before Natsuhiko could protest, the man had already turned and headed off.
Natsuhiko couldn't help but laugh helplessly at that.
Though, to be fair, the owner wasn't entirely wrong. Natsuhiko had contributed quite a bit during the war—just not on the front lines like most would imagine. The ANBU operated in the shadows, after all.
Shaking his head lightly, he decided not to dwell on it.
The people of Konoha were simple and sincere. In the grand scheme of the shinobi world, gestures like this might seem insignificant—but when you paid attention, they carried a quiet warmth that was hard to ignore.
"Natsuhiko-kun," Renge suddenly spoke after the owner left, turning her gaze toward him, "you didn't ask me out today just to eat, did you?"
She paused briefly before continuing, her tone steady. "I don't understand why you chose a place with this much risk… but whatever your decision is, I'll trust it without question."
Natsuhiko raised an eyebrow slightly, then smirked.
"Staying cooped up at home all day—aren't you worried you'll start to grow mold?"
Natsuhiko smiled faintly, then tapped his fingers lightly against the table before speaking in a calm, measured tone.
"Besides, I don't want you staying cooped up at home all day. Let me ask you something—do you still remember what I said to you before?"
"I remember." Renge nodded earnestly, her expression serious. "Everything you've said to me, Natsuhiko-kun—I've never forgotten."
There was no way she could forget.
Before he had left Konoha, Natsuhiko had told her he would consider giving her an opportunity—one where she could truly prove herself. She didn't know what kind of opportunity it would be, but she had been quietly looking forward to it ever since.
Spending her days at Natsuhiko's home… she understood that it might very well become her future.
And yet, deep down, she couldn't accept living like that forever.
She wanted a chance—a real chance—to step forward and show what she was capable of.
Since childhood, she had been taught a wide range of skills, from shinobi training to political affairs. Though the Senju clan had long since declined, its resources were far from exhausted. The legacy of centuries—even after much of it had been relinquished—was still vast and profound.
Renge had never once doubted her own abilities, nor did she believe herself inferior to anyone.
Especially not when her clan had once produced someone like Tsunade, a woman who could stand on her own at the highest level. That alone was enough to stir an unspoken determination within her.
Unfortunately, her family had never given her that chance—or rather, Senju Ryota had not.
Because of her own temperament, and because of her mother's influence, she had never chosen to resist.
In truth, she knew resistance would have been meaningless anyway.
Senju Ryota was not the kind of man who tolerated defiance. And yet, in the end, even he had been dealt with by Natsuhiko.
She didn't know how it had been done, but the fact that the elder behind Natsuhiko had stepped in to take over everything afterward spoke volumes.
And more importantly… that very elder seemed to be following Natsuhiko's lead.
"To be honest, you probably already know a bit about my situation, don't you?" Natsuhiko said after glancing around briefly, lowering his voice slightly before continuing.
"You know I'm part of the ANBU. And you also know my position there isn't exactly low."
"Yes, I know." Renge nodded without hesitation.
"Even though I've never asked directly, I can tell that at the very least, you were a division before before. And now… it's probably something even higher."
Natsuhiko smiled and gave a small nod. It wasn't surprising that she had pieced that much together.
He had never stated it outright, but he hadn't gone out of his way to hide it either.
Back when Renge had been sent to his home, he had already held the rank of division commander. If he had merely been an ordinary squad leader, someone like Senju Shōma would never have made such a decision.
Of course, the primary reason had been Natsuhiko's awakening of Wood Release—but even so, a division commander's position already placed him among the upper echelons of power.
As for Renge's guess that he had risen even higher now, that was hardly unexpected.
During the Nine-Tails incident, Natsuhiko had displayed his strength in full view of all the participating shinobi. Naturally, those who survived would speak of it afterward, and his distinctive Wood Release was impossible to conceal.
On top of that, when Natsuhiko had met with Senju Shōma, he had made no effort to avoid Renge's presence.
Although he had shown respect, Shōma himself hadn't carried the overwhelming authority one might expect. If anything, it was clear—even to the naked eye—that his attitude often leaned toward the weaker side.
It was different from before.
Previously, while Natsuhiko had held the initiative, the balance between them had still existed.
But now… the roles had shifted completely.
Natsuhiko carried himself like a true figure of authority, while the so-called elder seemed more like the one following behind.
"Exactly." Natsuhiko gave a slight nod before continuing calmly, "My position now is even higher."
After a brief pause, he added, almost casually, "To put it simply—I'm the Commander of the ANBU now."
The Commander of the ANBU?
Renge froze for a moment, her mind going blank.
The ANBU… that was the organization personally established by Tobirama Senju, the Second Hokage. As someone well-versed in her clan's history, there was no way she didn't understand what that meant.
It was the most unique—and arguably most sensitive—department within Konoha's entire shinobi system.
Even though it operated under strict constraints, it still held immense authority. More importantly, it was directly under the Hokage's command, which gave it unparalleled political significance.
Every major clan in Konoha had always tried to place their people within its ranks.
Within the ANBU, one could gain access to vast amounts of intelligence, demonstrate loyalty to the Hokage, and—even for those with ulterior motives—quietly gather critical information. By observing the Hokage's movements and analyzing completed missions, it was possible to infer intentions that were never spoken aloud.
And now… the man sitting before her—her "fiancé"—held control over such a formidable organization.
She had suspected that Natsuhiko's status had risen after the Nine-Tails incident, but she had assumed it was simply a matter of increased authority and recognition.
After all, he had helped save the village and assisted the Fourth Hokage in sealing the Nine-Tails. It was only natural for him to be rewarded.
But becoming the Commander of the ANBU?
Given his age and background, that didn't seem plausible at all—especially since the previous Commander hadn't appeared to have any issues.
As that thought crossed her mind, Renge parted her lips, about to ask something—but then she suddenly realized something else.
Her gaze snapped toward the surroundings.
Their conversation hadn't been particularly quiet, and what they were discussing involved the ANBU. She couldn't afford to be careless.
Yet, to her surprise, none of the other customers seemed to have heard a thing.
They continued chatting and laughing as if nothing unusual was happening, the atmosphere in the shop as ordinary and lively as ever.
"Surprised?" Natsuhiko raised an eyebrow, resting his head lazily against one hand as he looked at her. "Didn't you already guess as much?"
"I guessed that you'd risen higher, Natsuhiko-kun," Renge said, taking a steady breath as she spoke in a low voice. "But I never imagined… that you would… you would actually—"
"That I'd become the Commander of the ANBU?" Natsuhiko finished for her with a faint smile, already understanding what she meant.
"It's only natural to find it strange. Given my age and background, it doesn't exactly make sense for me to hold that position. And tou're probably wondering why the previous Commander is out and I'm in, right?"
"Yes." Renge nodded, but then added earnestly, "Even so, no matter what you say, I'll believe you."
Though her heart was filled with questions, she chose to trust him.
At the same time, she waited—quietly—for his explanation.
A strange excitement had begun to stir within her.
If everything Natsuhiko said was true, then the opportunity before her would be unlike anything she had ever imagined.
Before, she had thought that if he were merely a division commander, then the scope of her ambitions would be limited to a single unit.
But now…
She might have the chance to prove herself within the entire ANBU.
"You say that," Natsuhiko shook his head lightly, tapping his fingers against the table as his voice turned calm and measured, "but I know your doubts are still there."
He paused briefly before continuing,
"Age and background aren't always the deciding factors. What matters is having the right support—and more importantly…"
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"…that certain people need to die."
"Support… and someone died?" Renge repeated softly, her brows knitting as she thought it through. Then, almost instantly, realization dawned on her.
Support could only mean the backing of the Hokage.
And Hiruzen Sarutobi would never support Natsuhiko—so the one behind him had to be the Fourth Hokage.
But the Fourth Hokage wasn't currently in Konoha…
Which meant this was likely a safeguard he had put in place before his departure, to prevent his authority from being completely eroded in his absence.
As for "someone died"—
There was only one possibility.
The former Commander of the ANBU.
But that only led to another question—
How had the previous Commander of the ANBU died?
Had he been killed by the Nine-Tails?
Or… something else?
Renge didn't dare let her thoughts continue down that path—but Natsuhiko spoke before she could stop herself.
"It's a pity about the former Commander," he said with a faint smile, his tone almost light. "He refused to deploy the ANBU during the Nine-Tails incident… so I killed him."
The words were delivered so calmly, so casually, that for a moment they didn't even seem real.
Yet when they sank in, a chill ran straight through Renge's body.
She had never—never—imagined that such a thing had been done by Natsuhiko's own hands.
Almost instinctively, she turned her head to glance at the other customers in the shop.
Now she understood.
These people… they weren't ordinary diners at all. They were ANBU.
Natsuhiko had already sealed off the entire area, surrounding it with his own forces.
And more terrifying still—none of them reacted in the slightest to what he had just said.
That could only mean one thing.
He had absolute control over them.
How long had it even been?
What kind of methods had he used?
This boy—this young man who was even slightly younger than her—just how frightening was he?
"Alright, that's enough explanation for now."
Seeing Renge momentarily lost in thought, Natsuhiko tapped the table again, drawing her attention back.
"Let's talk about the real matter. I'm currently reforming the ANBU, but I have too much on my plate."
His gaze steadied, his voice calm but firm.
"That's not how I want things to be. So I need someone to help me."
"You… want me to help you?" Renge took a deep breath, forcing herself to steady her nerves.
The sheer weight of everything she had just learned made it almost impossible to remain composed.
Her mind was still reeling—she couldn't even begin to process what Natsuhiko meant by "reform."
But she had grasped one crucial point.
He wanted her to join the ANBU.
And that meant this reform was no small matter.
If she stepped into it… she would finally have the chance to realize her ambitions.
"Yes. But let me make one thing clear first."
Natsuhiko's fingers tapped lightly against the table. Though he still rested his head lazily against one hand, the expression in his eyes had grown sharp and serious.
"The work you'll be doing may expose you to the deepest secrets of the ANBU. If your performance doesn't meet my expectations…"
"Natsuhiko? You're here too?"
A voice suddenly cut through his words.
—
"Now that I think about it, you've always liked dango since you were little. Why is that?"
Walking along the streets of Konoha, Uchiha Shin turned to look at Sora with a curious smile.
Perhaps because he had resolved some lingering concerns in his heart, his mood was unusually light.
Today, he intended to spend time properly with his granddaughter. After today… he would go and seek out Senju Natsuhiko himself.
Facing that young man, the only thing he could feel was pressure—there was no room for ease at all.
But perhaps that was for the best.
What he needed wasn't comfort, but relentless effort… until the day he could fully realize his ambitions.
"Dango?"
Uchiha Sora paused slightly, her gaze drifting forward before a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"I suppose… it's tied to a fond memory."
As she spoke, her thoughts seemed to drift back to a distant past.
She remembered it clearly—she had only just entered the academy back then, and already, trouble had found her.
"I heard you're from the Uchiha clan?" A boy at the front, leading a group of children, surrounded her as he spoke. "Aren't your eyes supposed to turn red? Go on, show us."
"That's the Sharingan. I don't have it." Sora felt uneasy—it was her first time facing something like this—but she still answered calmly, maintaining her composure.
Inside, however, she was undeniably afraid.
But as a member of the Uchiha, she could not allow that fear to show.
"Tch, what Sharingan? Sounds like some kind of red-eye disease to me." The boy refused to back down, leaning in with an annoyed expression. "Hurry up. Everyone wants to see. Or what—you want everyone to hate you?"
"You…" Sora stood there, completely at a loss, unsure how to handle the situation. She had never imagined she would run into something like this.
Anxiety crept into her chest. She didn't want to be disliked—but the truth was, she really didn't have the Sharingan.
Not just her—within the clan, there were plenty of people who hadn't awakened it. After all, unlocking the Sharingan was a source of pride for the Uchiha… precisely because it wasn't something everyone possessed.
Just as she was growing more and more flustered, a voice suddenly rang out—
"I think you guys are the ones who are easy to hate."
A silver-haired boy walked into the classroom at a leisurely pace, a small bag dangling from his hand. When he saw what was happening, he clicked his tongue slightly, clearly unimpressed.
"Figures. This kind of bullying… it really does exist everywhere. Age doesn't make a difference, huh?"
"Hey, what are you babbling about?" the boy leading the group snapped, glaring at him. "What bullying? I wouldn't hit a girl. You white-haired freak are the annoying one!"
"Forget it. You wouldn't get it even if I explained." The silver-haired boy shrugged casually, then suddenly smiled. "You said you wanted to see red eyes, right?"
"Yeah. What, can you show us?" the boy asked skeptically.
"Of course I can." The silver-haired boy nodded, his smile widening just a little. "Actually… you can have them too. I can even help you with that."
The moment his words fell, he tossed the bag in his hand high into the air—
Then, in a single step, he lunged forward.
His fist shot out, landing squarely on the leader's face.
Before the others could even react, he had already moved again, slipping into their midst like a blur. What followed was a flurry of punches and kicks—quick, clean, and utterly overwhelming.
In the span of a few breaths, every one of them had been knocked to the ground.
Only after finishing did the silver-haired boy calmly reach up and catch the bag as it fell back down, as if nothing unusual had happened at all.
"Go find a mirror and take a look," he said with an easy grin. "See if your eyes are red now."
"Y-you…" The children were completely stunned.
They sat there on the floor, clutching the spots where they'd been hit, staring blankly at the boy in front of them.
After what felt like an eternity, one of them suddenly burst into tears—and soon, the rest followed, wailing loudly. The sound was so piercing that even students passing by outside began to look in.
Perhaps out of embarrassment, the group scrambled to their feet and fled the classroom as fast as they could.
Sora remained where she was, staring blankly at the scene that had just unfolded.
She had never imagined… that things could be resolved like that.
Her gaze slowly shifted to the silver-haired boy. Under the sunlight streaming through the windows, he seemed almost dazzling.
As if sensing her stare, the boy turned his head and smiled at her.
"Hey, sorry—did I scare you?"
"N-no…" Sora tried to keep her composure, but the lingering fear in her eyes hadn't fully faded.
"Here, have one." Without waiting for her response, the boy took out a skewer of dango from the bag and handed it to her. "Something sweet helps lift your mood. After something like that, you probably don't feel great."
"Th-thank you…" She had meant to refuse, but when the words reached her lips, they came out as gratitude instead.
She accepted the dango and took a small bite.
It was sweet.
Not just on her tongue—the sweetness seemed to spread quietly through her heart as well.
She had eaten dango before, of course… but somehow, this one tasted better than any she could remember.
"Alright, I'll get going then."
The silver-haired boy shrugged lightly, turning to leave. Under his breath, he muttered to himself,
"I remember hearing that Itachi Uchiha got bullied when he was younger… didn't think I'd actually run into something like that myself."
"Hm?"
Sora didn't quite catch what he said—and in truth, her attention wasn't on that at all.
Watching his retreating figure, she suddenly spoke up,
"W-wait a moment!"
"Huh?" The boy turned back, a little surprised. "What is it?"
"Well…" Sora hesitated, clearly flustered, before finally managing to ask, "Y-your name… what is it? Also—"
As if remembering something, she quickly straightened and gave a small bow.
"My name is Sora—Uchiha Sora. Please take care of me."
"No need to be so formal. We're in the same class, after all." The boy spread his hands casually. "It's just the first day, so seating hasn't been arranged yet—but I already know who you are."
He paused briefly, a faint smile forming at the corner of his lips.
"As for me…"
"My name is Natsuhiko—Fukami Natsuhiko. Nice to meet you."
—
"Sora? What's wrong?"
Just as Sora found herself drifting back into those childhood memories, the voice of Uchiha Shin pulled her back to the present.
She smiled faintly and shook her head, choosing not to explain.
That moment… that was where everything between Natsuhiko and those dango had begun.
Over the next three years, whenever she felt upset or troubled, Natsuhiko would always buy her dango.
Every time, she told herself she should refuse—but every time, she accepted.
Then, when they were eight years old, Natsuhiko left the academy. From that day on, there was no one left to buy her dango when she felt down.
Even so, she kept the habit.
She still remembered what he had once told her—that sweets could help lift your mood.
Although the dango she bought for herself never quite tasted as sweet as before, she still cherished that feeling.
And just as much… she missed the person who used to give them to her.
"It's nothing. Let's hurry."
Sora smiled as she replied, then took Shin's arm and pulled him along. He simply smiled back, not asking further.
But when they arrived at the dango shop, that smile quickly faded.
"Why are there so many people?" Shin looked at the crowded shop, shaking his head helplessly. "Business is unusually good today."
"Yeah…" Sora sighed softly. She already knew this shop was popular, so the scene wasn't entirely surprising.
Still, she wasn't too disappointed. If they couldn't eat inside, they could always take it to go.
After all, back then—whether it was Natsuhiko buying for her or she buying for herself—she had always taken the dango away rather than eating in.
Yet, as she and Shin stepped inside, she couldn't shake the feeling that the customers were glancing at them, intentionally or not.
Shin frowned slightly, displeased by their apparent rudeness, but for his granddaughter's sake, he chose not to say anything.
Then, suddenly, his gaze froze.
At first, he wasn't sure—but when he looked closer, his entire body stiffened, and he didn't dare take another step forward.
"What's wrong, Grandpa?"
Sora looked at him in confusion, then followed his line of sight—
And her eyes lit up instantly.
"Natsuhiko? You're here too?"
"You two…"
Natsuhiko looked at them, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
He truly hadn't expected to run into them here—let alone at a moment like this.
His gaze flickered toward Shin, and a hint of amusement surfaced in his eyes. The old man clearly hadn't anticipated this encounter either.
There was unmistakable tension on Shin's face—fear, even, mixed with unease.
So… he was afraid of him.
"It's been a long time."
Sora, seemingly oblivious to her grandfather's reaction, stepped closer to Natsuhiko's table. She was about to say more when she suddenly noticed someone sitting across from him.
A girl.
She was beautiful—though her expression was somewhat complicated, a mixture of surprise and something almost like delight.
But more than that, Sora could tell…
This girl's relationship with Natsuhiko was not ordinary.
The warmth in her chest cooled almost instantly.
She glanced at the girl, a trace of confusion in her eyes, before asking,
"And this is…?"
"Hello, my name is Renge. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Renge had already regained much of her composure. She stood up politely, her voice calm and measured as she greeted Sora.
Renge?
The name was completely unfamiliar to Sora—it was the first time she had heard it. For a moment, she wondered if this might be one of Natsuhiko's teammates.
She had tried to gather information about him over the years, but there had been almost nothing to find.
It wasn't until this year, when they finally met again, that she learned even a little about the boy who had once sat beside her.
"My name is Sora—Uchiha Sora. Nice to meet you."
Though she didn't know who Renge was, Sora still bowed slightly, maintaining perfect courtesy.
"You haven't changed at all," Natsuhiko said with a small shake of his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Still so overly polite."
Seeing Sora like this made Natsuhiko recall the first time they had met all those years ago.
Turning his head slightly, his gaze shifted toward Uchiha Shin, who was still standing there stiffly, as if rooted to the spot.
The old man looked visibly awkward, caught in hesitation. It was clear he didn't know whether he should step forward—yet at the same time, he didn't dare simply turn around and leave.
The sight drew a soft chuckle from Natsuhiko.
"Elder Shin," he said lightly, "it's been quite a while."
"Captain Natsuhiko..." Shin let out a faint sigh before speaking. "It has indeed been some time. I was just thinking about when I might properly thank you."
"Captain? 'Thank you'?" Sora frowned slightly at the way her grandfather addressed him.
She hadn't expected the two of them to know each other at all—let alone appear somewhat familiar.
And more than that… the tone Shin used carried an unmistakable respect. No—more than respect. It almost felt excessive.
She could even sense it instinctively—her grandfather seemed to stand at a lower position in front of Natsuhiko.
It was something she had never anticipated, and for a moment, she felt completely at a loss.
"There's no need for thanks," Natsuhiko said with a small shake of his head. His fingers tapped lightly against the table as he spoke in an unhurried tone. "You simply made the right choice."
He gestured casually toward the empty space beside him.
"Have a seat. It's crowded today, so if you don't mind, you'll have to make do."
"If it's not an interruption, then please forgive our intrusion," Shin said after a brief pause, nodding seriously as he accepted.
In truth, he almost wanted to laugh bitterly.
Crowded? This wasn't about good business at all—this entire shop had clearly been taken over by the ANBU.
Only now did he fully understand why he had felt watched the moment he walked in.
Every single person here… was one of them.
Any outsider entering would either find no seat at all—or, like him, be observed from every angle without a moment's respite.
At the same time, however, a question lingered in his mind.
What exactly had Natsuhiko been discussing with this young woman?
By joining them so abruptly, had he interfered with something he shouldn't have?
When it came to the ANBU, one could never be too cautious.
Although he had successfully arranged for Shisui Uchiha to enter the ANBU, the boy was still too young and was currently undergoing training in the reserve ranks.
As for when he would be able to carry out real missions—even Shin himself had no answer.
All he could do was hope that the boy's future would live up to its promise.
"Whether it's an interruption or not… there are things I no longer intend to keep hidden."
Natsuhiko looked at the two of them with a gentle smile, his voice as calm and composed as ever.
"At a certain point, there's simply no need to conceal anything anymore."
"Captain Natsuhiko…?" Shin glanced at him, momentarily confused, unable to grasp the meaning behind his words.
Then, suddenly, his expression shifted.
A realization struck him.
If someone within the ANBU no longer needed to hide their identity, then there was only one possibility—
And at that exact moment, Natsuhiko spoke again.
"To be precise…"
He looked directly at Shin, his tone steady and unhurried.
"You should be calling me Commander now."
...
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