Every word pierced the heart, every sentence drew blood.
Orochimaru was not merely driving a wedge between Naruto and Konoha. He was torturing Jiraiya's soul in the cruelest way possible.
He tore open the scars left by certain decisions of the Konoha High Command, laying the guilt, mistakes, and regrets buried by time out in the sunlight, raw and bloody.
Jiraiya's clenched fists creaked. Even the natural energy of his Sage Mode fluctuated violently under his overwhelming anger, shame, and pain. Fukasaku and Sage Shima watched him worriedly from his shoulders.
The Third seemed to age another ten years in an instant. His back stooped, and he had no answer.
He knew all of this.
And just as Orochimaru had said, he truly could not change it.
As Hokage, he could stop rumors from spreading openly, but he could not stop the malice in people's hearts.
Orochimaru's accusations and exposure of old wounds seeped into every inch of the air like poison, plunging the entire battlefield into a deathly heaviness.
The cold scenes those words painted stood in soul-rending contrast to the Naruto Uzumaki they knew, a boy who seemed like the sun itself, warm and friendly toward everyone.
Ino took two steps forward. With a slightly trembling hand, she gently clasped Naruto's left hand where it hung at his side.
Her usually radiant green eyes were now filled with shock, heartache, and an indescribable ache.
The Naruto she knew always wore a smile.
Yet behind that brilliant smile had once lain such a barren, frozen wasteland.
Almost at the same moment, Hinata stepped to Naruto's other side.
She said nothing, merely tilting her pale face upward and gazing intently at his lowered profile with her pure Byakugan eyes.
So... Naruto-kun had once lived through darkness like that?
*Every kindness