Danzo voted second.
He actually wanted Uzumaki Mirai to join the Root more, but unfortunately Hiruzen Sarutobi kept refusing.
This caused him a lot of distress.
He had to figure out a way to persuade Hiruzen again; otherwise, he would definitely regret it in the future.
Danzo wrote down the name expressionlessly and handed it over.
Inoichi Yamanaka unfolded it and took a look: “Lord Shimura voted for — — Uzumaki Mirai.”
Utatane Koharu and Homura Mitokado exchanged glances and each wrote down a name.
There was no suspense about the result — — Uzumaki Mirai.
The Ino–Shika–Chō trio was the same.
Uchiha Yamamoto nodded slightly, wrote down a name, and handed it out: “Uzumaki Mirai.”
The remaining clans exchanged glances and directly wrote down the same name.
In the end, all the slips of paper were gathered into the hands of Inoichi Yamanaka.
He unfolded them one by one, and the name read out did not change at all.
“Unanimous vote — — Uzumaki Mirai.”
The room fell silent for a moment.
Tsunade leaned against the corner of the wall.
Upon hearing this result, the expression on her face was indescribable, a mix of happiness and sorrow.
Of course she hoped that Mirai could become a Jinchuriki — — that child’s talent and temperament were more suitable, and boys were indeed safer than girls.
But this meant that at the end of the month, Grandma Mito would…
She closed her eyes and let out a long breath.
“Then it is settled.” Mito’s voice was calm and composed, as if she were discussing what to have for dinner today,
“At the end of the month, transfer the Nine-Tailed! I have repeatedly checked Mirai’s physical condition. The foundation of his Sealing Jutsu is solid enough, and with the assistance of my technique, there won’t be any problems with the transfer of the Nine-Tailed.”
Hiruzen Sarutobi nodded, stood up, and bowed deeply to Mito: “Lord Mito, rest assured, Konoha will remember your contributions.”
“Whether you remember it or not doesn’t matter,” Mito waved her hand, a hint of rare playfulness in her tone, “As long as you guys don’t let that Nine-Tailed guy out to bite people in the future.”
A chuckle echoed through the room, but the laughter carried a hint of bitterness.
At the same time, at the Ninja Academy.
Uzumaki Mirai was sitting in the classroom with a book titled “The Self-Cultivation of a Ninja” spread out in front of him, but his gaze was fixed motionless on a certain page.
In fact, he wasn’t reading a single word.
Before going out in the morning, Grandma Mito’s words, “At the end of the month, Grandma will come again to check your progress,” suddenly echoed in his mind, carrying an indescribable weight.
That feeling was very strange, like someone gently tugging at his chest.
It didn’t hurt, but it felt heavy.
It felt as if a piece of his heart had suddenly emptied out.
His brows furrowed slightly, and his fingers unconsciously pinched the edge of the page.
“Mirai?” Kushina, who was next to him, noticed his abnormality, leaned over, and asked in a low voice, “What’s wrong with you? Your complexion looks so terrible… Are you still mad at me about this morning?”
Kushina pouted, thinking he was still dwelling on the matter from the morning — — the incident of “whether or not to eat Naori’s bento”.
Mirai snapped back to reality, looked at her little face filled with worry, smiled, and reached out to gently pat her head:
“No, I was just wondering… what to have for lunch today.”
“Hmph, liar,” Kushina puffed out her cheeks, “Every time you lie, your eyes glance to the right.”
Mirai was amused by her, and just as he wanted to say something else, a burst of footsteps suddenly came from the doorway of the classroom.
A white-haired man wearing a cat-face mask stood at the doorway, dressed in black short-sleeve attire, with a short blade slanting across his back.
The whole person was like a sharp blade stored in its sheath, unassuming yet instilling an instinctive sense of oppression in people.
The noise in the classroom gradually quieted down.
The cat-faced masked man glanced around, his gaze landing precisely on Uzumaki Mirai, and then he spoke, his voice low and concise: “Uzumaki Mirai, come with me.”
Mirai raised his head and locked eyes for a brief moment with those eyes revealed through the gaps in the mask.
He recognized that person.
That iconic white hair, that overwhelming sense of sharpness — — the Anbu Commander, Sakumo Hatake.
At this point in time, the Anbu Commander came to the school in person to pick someone up, and specifically called out his name right from the start.
Mirai’s heart skipped a beat.
He stood up, said to Kushina, “It’s fine, I’ll be right back,” and then strode out of the classroom.
Kushina watched his receding figure as he followed that white-haired man away.
For some reason, an indescribable panic suddenly surged in her heart.
She clenched the edge of the desk tightly, her fingers turning slightly pale.
You guys, really, why does everything feel fine and then suddenly get all chaotic?
The door of the Hokage Office closed behind him with a dull, soft click.
Uzumaki Mirai stood in front of that desk which he was all too familiar with.
The place he had seen countless times in the anime in his past life was now truly presented before his eyes; even the angle of the desk lamp on the table was identical to his memories down to the smallest detail.
This feeling was very strange, like watching images across a screen for a lifetime, and suddenly being able to touch them with a stretch of the hand.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat opposite him, gently twirling the pipe between his fingers.
Ever since he first saw this name on a report at the age of seven, he had been paying attention to this child.
Now three years had passed, and Uzumaki Mirai had grown much sturdier than his peers.
His spine was straight, his gaze calm, and he stood there neither servile nor overbearing.
“Mirai, calling you here today is to tell you something.”
Hiruzen Sarutobi finally spoke, his voice a few degrees lower than usual: “Lord Mito’s condition… you should have a good idea of it.”
Uzumaki Mirai didn’t speak, only nodding slightly.
“This morning, we held a meeting,” Hiruzen Sarutobi paused for a moment,
“It was decided by a unanimous vote — — at the end of this month, you will inherit the Nine-Tailed and become the next Nine-Tails Jinchuriki!”
When he heard these words, Mirai’s heart skipped a beat.
He had long anticipated becoming the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki.
With the attitude Grandma Mito had shown all these years when teaching him Sealing Jutsu — — as if she couldn’t wait to stuff everything into his brain — — how could he possibly fail to notice?
But actually hearing these words spoken from the Hokage’s mouth still made his chest feel stuffy for a moment.
“Grandma Mito, she…?”
Hiruzen Sarutobi exhaled a puff of smoke, his gaze carrying a trace of a heavy sigh: “This is Lord Mito’s own intention. She hopes to handle this matter while she can still hold on.”
Uzumaki Mirai fell silent, his face filled with sorrow.
Today is the 20th; the end of the month is only 10 days away!
In the office, there was only the faint, crackling sound of the pipe burning.
“…I understand.” He finally spoke, his voice steadier than he had expected.
No wonder when he went out this morning, his heart suddenly felt so distressed.
His chest felt as if it were being gently clutched; it didn’t hurt, but it was suffocatingly stuffy.
It turned out to be a reminder to him — — that old lady who brought them back from the Land of Whirlpools, always sat under the veranda drinking tea, and watched him and Kushina frolic with a smile, was about to leave.