Perhaps he had possessed those qualities when he was young, too, but now... He lowered his gaze to his hands, covered in wrinkles and age spots.
"Lord Hokage." A voice came from beside him.
Hiruzen Sarutobi looked up to find that Mirai had approached without him noticing, a drink in hand-
He wasn't eighteen yet, so he wasn't drinking alcohol. Kushina wouldn't let him, either.
"Lord Hokage," Mirai suddenly said, his tone calm, "have you ever wondered-what are ninja missions really for?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi froze for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"Today, in the arena, I watched those two daimyo. One was waving a fan, and the other was holding a wine cup. They sat in the best seats, watching us ninja fight for our lives."
Mirai's voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly in the night breeze. "They don't have to fight or bleed. They just sit there enjoying the show, then reap the rewards of our battles. Is that reasonable?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi was silent for a long time. He set down his cup and looked seriously at Mirai. "What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing." Mirai smiled and took a sip from his teacup. "Just asking."
Watching his profile, Hiruzen Sarutobi suddenly felt that this boy's thoughts ran far deeper than he had imagined.
They weren't close enough for such a deep conversation, so Mirai said no more.
Perhaps it was still too early to discuss such things with a people who had grown accustomed to servitude.
When the time comes, I'll just do it myself. I only hope these ignorant old fools don't get in my way.
Otherwise, blood will flow in rivers!
As he thought, Mirai took another small sip of his drink. Sweet and refreshing. Not bad.
The next few days passed uneventfully.