The First Hokage Had Perfect Push-Up Form!

The setting sun stained the sky blood-red, and the howling gale shrieked like a black crow.

In the cold, dark scene, severed limbs and blood pooled into sticky puddles. A fleeing jonin slipped and fell, then crawled backward in trembling fear, leaving a vivid red trail behind him.

"No! Please! Don't kill me!"

He waved his right hand frantically. Blood gushed from the ragged stump where his left arm had been torn off, making his face look deathly pale.

Footsteps approached.

"Why are you saying such stupid things?"

A teasing voice rang out. A cracked hand grabbed the jonin's vest and hoisted him up.

A handsome, refined face, also covered in cracks, smiled at him. In the man's dark eyes, scarlet Three Tomoe glimmered faintly.

"Every ninja has to die eventually."

As he spoke, he raised the long blade in his hand. "Look at me. I was this awesome, and I still ended up in the Pure Land, didn't I?"

The blade swept across the jonin's throat. The man tossed the body to the ground, leaving him to twitch as he awaited death, then turned and started complaining. "Tell me, are you out of your mind? You brought me back with Impure World Reincarnation just to help you clean up this trash?"

His gaze swept over the slain ninjas. "Cloud, Stone..."

He muttered, "Since when did those two villages get along so well?"

A violent gust swept across the cliff, and the crimson mist slowly faded from the dark precipice.

Black hair whipped wildly through the bloody haze. Orochimaru's pale face bore the hint of a smile. "We just happened to run into each other..."

Before he could finish, the other man angrily cut him off. "Damn you, Orochimaru! I was about to win that card game! I told you not to call me for no reason. Do you think you can just do whatever you want to me?"

That only made Orochimaru more curious. "You can play cards in the Pure Land? What do you use for stakes?"

The man paused, then explained, "There's no eating or drinking there, so usually the loser has to do push-ups. The First Hokage has the best form. He can do over five hundred in one go. The Second Hokage's pretty good too, but sometimes he's a sore loser. Last time, he lost and had to tell a joke, and he was thoroughly disgruntled about it..."

"Heh heh heh..." Orochimaru chuckled. "Sounds like life after death is pretty exciting."

Then he explained, "I ended up in this situation because of your son. To force Tsunade to take him out of Konoha, I sent all my subordinates to assassinate him. Looks like none of them are coming back."

"Damn it! I'm already dead, and you still won't leave that widow and her child alone! Tsunade must have seen the letter I left behind. Don't go taking all the credit for yourself!" The man cursed, then scoffed. "As for your subordinates, they're all a bunch of fanatics. They don't understand you at all. You're better off without them."

He fell silent for a moment, then asked quietly, "Um... Is Tsunade doing all right? And what about my son, Qing Xuan?"

Orochimaru's eyes visibly lit up. "She's still as much of a gambler as ever."

The wind on the cliff gradually softened. The two of them stood among the corpses, chatting as if nothing were amiss.

"She does spoil that child a bit too much, though."

The man scoffed at Orochimaru. "That's my own son. What's wrong with spoiling him a little? You're single. You wouldn't understand."

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. "Your son always calls her Tsunade..."

"The kid's a little rebellious." The man cleared his throat, as if he'd expected this. "It's understandable."

"I can't shake the feeling that you and your son are hiding something from me..." Orochimaru stared intently at those Sharingan eyes. He'd had the same feeling when talking with Qing Xuan.

"Are we?" The man played dumb. "Don't look at me like that. Tsunade will get the wrong idea."

He planted his sword in the ground and waved a hand. "So, are you done here? If you are, I'm heading back. The Third Kazekage and Third Raikage are keeping an eye on me. If I don't hurry, they'll try to take my spot again."

"Is it easy to get a game of cards going?" he grumbled.

Orochimaru's snake-like eyes fixed on him, as if he were pondering something. After a while, he asked, "By the way, you weren't the one who killed the Third Raikage, were you?"

"That old geezer? What would I kill him for? Though he did die pretty horribly."

The man waved his hand. Ash crumbled away like falling leaves, spreading upward from his feet.

"Keep an eye on things in Konoha and make sure the cleanup's handled properly. As for the Uchiha, leave them alone. My big brother knows what to do," he instructed.

"And what about what you promised me? Don't forget!"

"Don't worry!"

A gust swept through, scattering the remaining ashes. Only their voices lingered faintly in the air.

Meanwhile.

Endless yellow sand stretched beneath the howling wind, which swept the last light of the setting sun across this desolate land.

Sunagakure lay nestled among the folds of the Land of Wind's interior, like a skinned giant scorpion. Day after day, the scorching sun baked the sandstone houses a deep reddish brown. Layer upon layer of rooftops resembled dried scales, quivering faintly in the heat. Wind-eroded pillars stood like bones at the village entrance, wrapped in faded strips of paper bearing incantations that snapped in the ceaseless sandstorm.

At dusk, the afternoon sandstorm had just passed, and fine golden grains drifted along the village streets. The dunes began to release the heat they had swallowed during the day. On the crumbling walls of Shukaku's temple, the Sealing Jutsu carved by ancient monks glimmered in the twilight. The evening breeze swept through the dead poplar grove outside the village. The sound of cracked bark falling rang out in crisp harmony with the clacking of kunai at the training ground, in the gradually cooling air.

Ninjas wearing conical hats hurried along, stepping through the jagged shadows cast by the rooftops. The wind stirred by their leggings startled sand lizards curled up inside clay jars. Spiral patterns covered the outer walls of the towering, round Kazekage office building. From afar, it looked like half of a giant conch buried in the sand, while a bronze mirror on the top-floor observation deck reflected the sunlight in a warning signal.

Beneath the market's cloth awnings, the charred aroma of grilled scorpions drifted through the air. The vendors' cries grew rough with sand. An old man wearing a Sand shinobi forehead protector sat in a teahouse. As he poured cactus wine into a coarse clay bowl, a film of sand immediately formed on the cloudy liquid. Children chased one another through the maze-like alleys, their bare feet crossing the scorching sandstone, the soles toughened with thick calluses.

Laughter and playful shouts rang out from a small square encircled by towering clay buildings.

A breeze swept over the ground, carrying a trace of lingering heat as it brushed past the swing at the edge of the square.

Creak, creak...

A boy sat quietly on the gently swaying swing, clutching a teddy bear. He watched the children playing ball in the square with timid eyes, a trace of... greedy longing for something in his gaze.

Inside the reception room of the Kazekage's office building.

Ebizo and Chiyo sat silently behind the Fourth Kazekage, warily studying the young woman in her twenties who stared back at them without the slightest restraint.

She sat amid the glow of the setting sun. Her golden hair flowed like molten gold, tied high behind her head, its ends fluttering freely in the evening breeze. Her features were sharp as a blade, and the amber depths of her eyes held the edge of years. Yet, every now and then, a captivating languor flowed through them, giving her a beauty that was almost too dazzling to look at.

"Welcome to Sunagakure, Tsunade of Konoha!"