Arriving at the school, Uzumaki Mirai spotted an acquaintance at first glance.
“Oi! Naori! What are you standing at the school entrance for?”
Opposite him was a tall, long-haired, dark-haired maiden.
Who knows what Uchiha Naori had eaten over the past three years, but the maiden stood at 1.65 meters tall!
She was a full head taller than Uzumaki Mirai!
This left him rather resentful.
Clearly, three years ago, they were about the same height, right?
Why was he a head shorter than others now?
Besides, if girls developed earlier, then why wasn’t Kushina this tall?
Uzumaki Kushina: “…I fucking thank you so much, huh!”
Naori had no idea that in the time it took for Uzumaki Mirai to exchange a glance, so many thoughts had flashed through his mind.
She handed over a bento box, her voice cold yet melodious: “This is the salted grilled salmon bento my sister asked me to bring for you. Take it!”
“Well! You’re as aloof as ever, Classmate Naori.” Uzumaki Mirai took the bento.
“Shut up! In the practical combat class later, I want to challenge you!” Uchiha Naori’s fingers clenched tightly, a trace of imperceptible blush flashing across the edges of her ears.
Although her voice was cool and aloof, it was obvious that the ripples in her heart were far from calm.
Having dropped her harsh words, Uchiha Naori turned her head and walked away, afraid that if she stayed with Mirai any longer, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from blushing.
“Mirai…” Feeling the strength in Uzumaki Kushina’s hand growing stronger and stronger, Uzumaki Mirai couldn’t help turning his head to glance at her.
Uzumaki Kushina pouted her lips, looking at him pitifully all the same.
“I’m your girlfriend, so please don’t eat Naori’s bento, okay?”
Ever since Kushina was kissed by Mirai three years ago, she had initially been a bit shy, but later she instead became infatuated with the feeling of kissing.
She immediately took on the identity of Uzumaki Mirai’s girlfriend, driving away countless little girls who wanted to approach Mirai.
But among them, Uchiha Naori was not included.
Because Naori had never revealed her feelings, acting as if she simply regarded Mirai as a goal to grow stronger and surpass.
Uzumaki Kushina had no way to deal with her.
But seeing Uchiha Naori bring a bento to Mirai, she still couldn’t help feeling a little aggrieved.
“Didn’t we bring the eel rice bento prepared by Grandma Mito?”
Uzumaki Mirai’s lips curved upward: “It’s at least Naori-neesan’s thoughtful gesture. It’s fine, my appetite is good, I can finish two portions later.”
“Hmph, I’m ignoring you, stinky Mirai!” Kushina pinched him hard, then ran off.
Clearly, she was just worried that that bad woman named Uchiha Mikoto—who cared about Naori-neesan—had ill intentions, which was why she didn’t want Mirai to eat her bento, but the stinky Mirai didn’t appreciate it and insisted on eating it.
Good appetite, my foot?
Was this about eating a bento?
Uzumaki Mirai pretended to bare his teeth and grimace, acting as if it hurt terribly.
But in reality, Kushina hadn’t used much strength; he was just putting on an act like this to make it a bit easier to coax her later.
Uzumaki Mirai glanced at the bento in his hand.
After graduation, Mikoto-neesan, like most of the Uchiha, joined the Konoha Military Police Force instead of going out on missions!
But this was fine too; although the Military Police Force had internal conflicts, it was at least safe.
…
Meanwhile, in the main house of the Senju Clan Compound.
Today’s atmosphere completely changed from its usual chill and desolation, and every single person standing in the courtyard was someone who could make Konoha shake with a single stomp.
The Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi sat on one side of the main seat, his supreme large smoking pipe flickering on and off, smoke swirling between his tightly locked brows.
Hokage Advisor—Danzo Shimura leaned on a cane and stood by the window, his single eye half-closed, wondering what he was thinking about.
Senior Advisors Utatane Koharu and Homura Mitokado sat side by side, both of their faces wearing a rare solemnity.
The current Ino–Shika–Chō trio stood a little behind them.
Beside them were also the current Uchiha clan head Uchiha Yamamoto, as well as the heads of the Hyuga and several other clans.
Among the younger generation, Tsunade leaned against the corner, her arms crossed, her lips pressed until they turned pale.
Jiraiya had rarely refrained from peeping at the women’s bathhouse, standing honestly beside Tsunade without his usual flippancy visible on his face.
Orochimaru leaned against the doorframe with a calm expression, his snake-like pupils occasionally glancing toward the main seat.
In the main seat, the elderly Uzumaki Mito sat there.
Her figure was much thinner than three years ago, and her once plump cheeks had sunken in.
But those eyes remained clear and gentle, as if holding an entire autumn.
She slowly swept her gaze over everyone present, and then spoke.
“I called everyone here today for only one matter.”
Her voice was not loud, but the entire room fell silent.
“My time as this old crone is almost up. The diagnosis report from the Medical Corps—presumably all of you have read it. At most, I can hold out until the end of this month; the Nine-Tailed must be transferred to the next Jinchuriki.”
Tsunade’s fists clenched abruptly, her nails almost embedding into her palms.
Jiraiya’s expression was solemn, revealing a faint, elusive sorrow.
Did leaves ultimately have to return to their roots?
“Lord Mito…” Hiruzen Sarutobi opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end it only turned into a sigh.
Akimichi Torifu stood in the corner, his eye sockets already red.
He was a few years younger than Hiruzen and Danzo.
Back when he was studying under the Second Hokage Senju Tobirama, Mito had always looked after him a lot.
Hearing these words at this moment, he felt as if he had returned to his youth, his chest aching with stuffiness.
“Stop wearing such bitter faces,” Mito smiled, a smile no different from when she used to sit under the corridor drinking tea,
“Birth, old age, sickness, and death are human nature. Hashirama has been gone for so many years, and for this old crone of mine to live until now is already a bonus.”
She paused, her gaze falling upon Hiruzen Sarutobi: “Hiruzen, the urgent priority is to determine the next Jinchuriki. We cannot wait until I am about to close my eyes before hurriedly choosing; if chaos breaks out by then, the entire Konoha will suffer along with it.”
The Nine-Tailed was of vital importance, and Konoha was no longer in the era when Hashirama was still around.
Once the Nine-Tailed went out of control, the losses would inevitably be disastrous.
Hiruzen Sarutobi nodded, his pipe spinning in his hand: “Lord Mito is right. Then… let us vote right now. The candidates for the Jinchuriki are precisely between Uzumaki Mirai and Uzumaki Kushina.”
The room fell silent for a moment.
Hiruzen Sarutobi did not say anything more.
He simply picked up a pen, wrote a name on a piece of paper, folded it, and handed it to Inoichi Yamanaka beside him.
Inoichi Yamanaka took it, unfolded it, glanced at it, and with an unchanged expression, read aloud: “Lord Sarutobi’s vote—Uzumaki Mirai.”
This result did not exceed anyone’s expectations.
The Third Hokage’s attitude had always leaned toward Mirai.
Over the past three years or more, observation reports regarding Mirai had piled up a whole cabinet, almost all of them being positive evaluations.
Occasionally, there were one or two negative reviews, which were just because he wasn’t serious in class or something.
Regarding unity, friendship, and carrying out the will of fire,
Uzumaki Mirai made Hiruzen Sarutobi extremely satisfied.
This was the successor of the will of fire he favored in his eyes!
Using him as a vessel for the Nine-Tailed could not possibly be more appropriate.