"What are you trying to do, Danzo?"
At the street corner outside the courtyard, Hiruzen Sarutobi lowered his voice and confronted Danzo.
Danzo said nothing. He cautiously looked around before slowly replying, "Hiruzen, have you lost your temper?"
At those words, Hiruzen's gaze grew even more hostile.
Not wanting to completely sever ties, Danzo could only explain, "You know Asuma's personality well. Even if I don't approve his request, he might still leave Konoha and head to the front lines. If that happens, his safety will be even less certain."
Hiruzen knew his youngest son was rebellious, and he also knew Danzo's arrangement made a certain amount of sense.
But now, in his own home, Hiruzen had seen Danzo wearing his face and becoming a family with his wife and son. The thread of reason in his mind was being battered again and again by fury.
"You broke our deal," Hiruzen said in an angry, low voice.
"Don't worry. I've already arranged for Minato Namikaze to lead Asuma's team. You know how strong Minato is. He can keep Asuma safe," Danzo continued, trying to calm his old friend's anger.
"Don't worry? How am I supposed to feel reassured?" Hearing Minato's name only made Hiruzen feel inexplicably more uneasy.
"I told you, Asuma is not going to the front lines!"
Hiruzen practically shouted the last sentence.
Faced with his old friend's outburst and discontent, Danzo said nothing. Instead, he frowned and looked behind Hiruzen.
"Asuma, who told you to come out?"
At the far end of the street, Asuma had pushed open the courtyard gate and poked half his body out. He had just heard Hiruzen's final shout.
Asuma was in the middle of his rebellious teenage years. He had finally gotten permission from his old man to go to the front lines, only for "Danzo"—that bastard—to stand in his way.
He was absolutely furious!
Ignoring his "father's" question, Asuma rushed out of the house and up to Danzo and Hiruzen.
"Danzo, what does it matter to you whether I go to the front lines? This is our family's business, between me and my father. It has nothing to do with you!" Asuma shouted at Hiruzen in protest.
As soon as Asuma said those words, Danzo knew things were about to go badly. He looked at Hiruzen and saw that his old friend's face had flushed bright red. Hiruzen was panting heavily, his eyes bloodshot.
"Asuma, get back in the house." Danzo strode over to him, his expression darkening. Years of fighting and bloodshed, along with the imposing air of a man in a position of power, made Asuma recoil in fear.
"Go back!" Danzo warned him one last time.
Asuma glared past Danzo at Hiruzen, whose face was still flushed, but ultimately chose to swallow his anger and turn away.
Only after Asuma returned to the courtyard did Danzo secretly breathe a sigh of relief. Then he looked back at Hiruzen.
Danzo stepped forward and stood in front of Hiruzen. With a sincere expression, he said to his old friend, "Hiruzen, you know I have no family and no children. Asuma is like my own son."
"I promise you, nothing will happen to Asuma on the front lines."
Hiruzen stared at Danzo. He had nearly lost his composure over Asuma's words, but now he had managed to regain some of his reason.
"Danzo, this is the last time. I can make concessions for the village, but my family is my bottom line," Hiruzen warned, his voice hoarse.
"I promise you, Hiruzen. Before I die, nothing will happen to your family." Danzo met his gaze with sincerity, his voice full of confidence.
His confidence came from none other than Shiraishi's Reincarnation Technique.
As long as Shiraishi was still around, even if Asuma died on the battlefield, Danzo could bring him back to life through a deal.
"You'd better keep that promise."
Leaving those final words behind, Hiruzen walked past Danzo and continued down the street.
Danzo stood where he was, watching his old friend's shadow grow longer beneath the streetlights. Then he said, "Whether you believe me or not, everything I've done has been for Konoha."
Hiruzen's steps faltered. He stood still for several seconds, then continued walking in silence, without turning around or saying a word.
In the living room of Shiraishi's home, he withdrew his spiritual sense after watching the whole show and turned his attention to the letter paper on the table before him.
He picked up the tea beside him and took a small sip. After composing his thoughts, Shiraishi picked up the pen beside the paper.
"Minato, by the time you read this letter, I'll already be gone..."
That was right. The letter Shiraishi was writing was his last will.
Under the strain of his relentless training, his current body would be completely worn out in less than three years.
In other words, no matter what, Shiraishi would have to change bodies within three years. The identity tied to his current body would die along with it.
Since he was bound to die anyway, Shiraishi naturally wanted to make the most of his death.
Shiraishi knew that preaching alone couldn't truly change a person. The power of words could be very weak at times.
It was harsh reality, the deaths of loved ones and close friends—real, tangible pain—that most easily changed a person.
Shiraishi's earlier lectures had all been groundwork, meant to guide Minato toward change.
His death would set off all that groundwork at once, pushing Minato down the path Shiraishi wanted him to take.
Time passed second by second. Before long, Shiraishi had filled three sheets of paper.
At the end of the letter, Shiraishi left no sentimental words. He wrote only one simple sentence.
"The guilt is ours today; the merit will endure for generations."
When he had finished, Shiraishi put down his pen, folded the three sheets, and placed them in an envelope. He stored the envelope in the Ten Thousand Soul Banner for the time being.
The morning after next, Shiraishi handed the five newly refined Soul Banners to Danzo, then walked out of the Hokage Building feeling completely at ease.
The war between Konoha and the Hidden Cloud had begun, and Orochimaru's cultivation efforts were proceeding smoothly. In the days ahead, Shiraishi would continue to reap the rewards.
After crossing the open space in front of the Hokage Building, Shiraishi was just about to head to Konoha's bustling Commercial Street for a stroll when a white-haired, spiky-haired boy blocked his way.
Kakashi was only fourteen that year, but he had none of a young boy's vitality. The successive deaths of loved ones and friends had left him looking lifeless. His one exposed eye in particular was dull as a dead fish.
Kakashi, his face hidden behind a black mask, looked at Shiraishi and raised his right hand, which held a wooden box, offering it to him.
"Minato-sensei asked me to give this to you. It's a gift from him," Kakashi said in a listless, cold voice.
Unlike Kakashi's dejected air, Shiraishi looked at him with a growing smile and reached out to take the wooden box.
"So you're Minato's student, Konoha's genius ninja, Kakashi Hatake?" Shiraishi asked with a smile.
Kakashi said nothing. He simply stared at Shiraishi with his one exposed, fish-like eye.
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