Even though the research had been officially authorized years earlier by her grandmother, Mito Uzumaki, Tsunade could not help but fall silent whenever she thought of the many relatives and clansmen who had died in those trials.
“I am truly sorry, Tsunade.
It was wrong of me,” Hikuro said sincerely.
In truth, he did not feel much guilt over it, but he preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble—especially with Tsunade.
After all, he still found her irresistible; he could not stop admiring her impressive figure.
At least inside the Hokage Building, with the Third Hokage present to discuss serious matters, everyone kept their tempers in check.
Tsunade would not dare attack and cripple Hikuro outright.
Suddenly, Hiruzen stepped forward.
“Very well.
Now that everyone has arrived, let us begin.
The reason we have gathered today is simple: we must select the Fourth Hokage.”
The moment the words left his mouth, the room fell completely silent.
The old man took a deep breath and continued: “I am growing older, and my strength and energy begin to wane…”
“It is time for me to step down.
The village needs continuity, and it needs a younger, stronger Hokage—someone who can bring fresh energy and lead Konoha to even greater prosperity.”
Hiruzen Sarutobi spoke with deep gravity.
He truly felt that his years were catching up with him, and it was time for someone else to take up the mantle of Hokage and continue protecting this land and its people.
He could feel his body growing weaker; time had left its mark upon him, impossible to erase.
For a shinobi, once middle age arrives, overall strength begins to slowly decline—stamina fades, and the mind loses the sharpness it possessed in youth.
Chakra, though an immensely powerful energy, comes at the cost of draining one’s very life force.
Hiruzen was fully aware that he was no longer as decisive as he had been in his younger days.
He had lost the firm resolve a leader of the village should possess, growing increasingly hesitant and indecisive.
Rather than clinging to his position and gradually becoming incompetent and muddled as the years passed, it was better to step aside while he still could and entrust the future to the younger generation.
Unlike Danzō, Hiruzen had never been obsessed with the title of Hokage.
He had already served in that role and known its glory; now he cared far more about the village’s future—how to protect it and pass down the Will of Fire.
He was happy to hand the position to the next generation, letting them write their own chapter of greatness.
Not like that old fool Danzō, who grew more and more fixated on becoming Hokage, to the point of near madness.
Hiruzen hoped Danzō would finally understand: the title of Hokage was not everything—the future of the village was what truly mattered.
Hikuro could not bring himself to care about this formalistic meeting.
He found it utterly tedious, a complete waste of valuable time that should have been spent in his laboratory.
Especially Hiruzen—after holding authority for so long, he had fallen into the habit of rambling on and on, lecturing everyone with irrelevant speeches.
The Will of Fire, the sacrifices of those who came before us, how “we owe today’s peace to the efforts of everyone,” and other empty platitudes.
Yet still, he had not gotten to the point.
Who exactly was he planning to nominate as his chosen successor?
“Old man, stop dragging this out and get to it already!” Tsunade snapped.
The death of her younger brother Nawaki had only made her temper more volatile.
But in all of Konoha, only someone of Tsunade’s standing—the village’s “princess” and granddaughter of the First Hokage—would dare interrupt the Third Hokage like that.
Hiruzen shook his head helplessly, rubbing his temples as he looked at his brash, impulsive student.
His heart ached for her; he had raised her from childhood.
If not for Nawaki’s death, she would not have withdrawn into herself, turned to heavy drinking, and fallen into such a fragile state of mind—something that worried him deeply.
Truth be told, Hiruzen had once considered naming Tsunade as the next Hokage.
After all, she was the granddaughter of Hashirama Senju, the founder of the modern medical shinobi system, and had earned great renown for her feats on the battlefield.
Most importantly, the Senju clan had long since dissolved, so she posed no threat to the status of civilian-born shinobi.
In his heart, Hiruzen was very much inclined to make Tsunade the Fourth Hokage.
From a political standpoint, she also had unquestionable legitimacy; the path to her becoming Hokage should have been clear and unobstructed.
But the Hokage was the captain of the entire village, responsible for Konoha’s future and prosperity.
Someone struggling with severe mental instability could not be trusted with such a heavy burden, nor could Hiruzen rest easy placing the fate of the village in her hands.
It was a decision that allowed no room for error.
“Everyone, I have decided to nominate Minato Namikaze as the Fourth Hokage!
All in favor?
Opposed?”
Hiruzen slammed his palm firmly on the table, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he swept across the elders and clan leaders present.
The sudden announcement left everyone stunned.
They had all assumed the next Hokage would be chosen from among the Sannin—Orochimaru, Jiraiya, or Tsunade.
No one expected the Third Hokage’s favored candidate to be Minato Namikaze.
Orochimaru met Hiruzen’s gaze calmly, saying nothing.
He had seen this coming long ago.
Even during the Third Great Ninja War, he had noticed Hiruzen quietly paving the way for Minato.
In years past, he might have been willing to compete for the title himself.
But now—thanks to Hikuro—something as trivial as the position of Hokage held no appeal for him at all.
Truly… absolutely… not worth my attention, Orochimaru repeated inwardly, gritting his teeth.
Then he fell silent, remembering he still had an important experiment to run later that day.
After careful consideration, the clan heads realized that Minato was actually the ideal choice.
He was loyal to Konoha, a shinobi of pure lineage, yet born into a civilian family rather than an established clan.
He had earned countless victories and honors in battle, treated his comrades with kindness and respect, and enjoyed immense popularity throughout the village.
On top of that, he was now married to the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki—an alliance that only strengthened his standing.
Even the head of the Uchiha clan, who had looked on with a heavy heart at first, now wore a faint smile.
He shared a good personal relationship with Minato, and his wife was also close friends with the Jinchūriki.
If Minato became Hokage, the Uchiha would surely see far better treatment and finally be able to integrate more fully into the village.
Hikuro, meanwhile, studied the young man before him closely.
His bright golden hair—stylish yet undeniably unconventional—was impossible to ignore.
One could not deny that the “flashy look” of the shinobi world certainly lived up to its reputation.
Sensing Hikuro’s scrutiny, Minato immediately turned and offered a warm, radiant smile.
Their eyes met, firm and unwavering.