Naruto had not refused Sandayu and Koyuki's request because he was cold by nature, or simply because he feared the tremendous upheaval that assassinating a king might bring.
What young man had never dreamed of riding a spirited horse in fine clothes, roaming the world with a sword, and drawing his blade whenever he saw injustice? Who cared about princes and nobles? Settling grudges with a single stroke, winning a beauty's admiration and the people's praise, repaying kindness and vengeance as he pleased-how glorious would that be?
Yet a heavy, impossible-to-ignore weight lay on his heart.
Was the white-haired man beside him, the one who called himself "Jiraiya," really who he claimed to be?
That doubt was like a hidden current beneath a snowfield, bone-chillingly cold, eroding his trust day and night.
If he could not even tell whether his own adoptive father was genuine, how could he dare put himself in danger so readily?
One wrong step could doom him forever.
Besides, if he truly intervened in the succession to the Land of Snow's throne, word would reach Konoha and cause an uproar, whether he succeeded or failed.
How the Konoha High Command would deal with his overstepping was still uncertain. But one thing was predictable: the first person to demand that they put their own house in order-or at least beat him half to death first-would definitely be Neji Hyuga.
His future brother-in-law, who was obsessively protective of his younger sister and valued his family's honor above all else, was already struggling to find a legitimate excuse to deal with this "runaway groom."
Why would he pass up ammunition delivered right to his door?
Naruto truly did want to return and marry Hinata in grand style.
He was not indifferent to that gentle, pale-eyed girl who had eyes