Shimura Danzō strode through the corridors of the Root Base with a dark expression, as though carrying a storm in his wake. He ignored every subordinate who bowed along the way and headed straight for his most private resting chamber.
The heavy door closed behind him, shutting out the outside world completely.
Rather than a place to rest, this chamber was a shrine to his lifelong ambition.
On the room's most conspicuous wall hung a meticulously crafted replica of the Hokage Ceremonial Robe.
Its white fabric and red flame patterns gave off an alluring sheen in the dim light.
Here, his overwhelming desire for the position of Hokage flooded his body like the deadliest poison and the sweetest nectar, lending a sickly vitality to a frame already corroded almost beyond repair by power and darkness.
An intensely fervent, almost obsessive gleam shone in Danzo's single eye as he stared fixedly at the Hokage Robe.
Slowly, as though performing some sacred ritual, he approached it one step at a time.
First, he discarded the walking stick he normally used to keep up appearances, and even his posture seemed to straighten.
Then he solemnly picked up the clean silk cloth prepared nearby-the finest, softest money could buy in Konoha-and advanced with a pause between every step, as though afraid of disturbing this beautiful dream.
He reached out with the cloth and, with extraordinary gentleness and care, wiped the almost nonexistent dust from the replica Hokage Hat beside the Hokage Robe.
Though he wiped it over and over every day, he always felt he had to do it once more. He had to keep it spotless, utterly flawless.
Once he finished, he casually tossed the expensive silk cloth onto the floor beside him.
At last, the withered fingers of his left hand trembled as they barely brushed the robe's fabric. He dared not truly press against it, as though it were a fragile illusion.
A sigh steeped in endless longing, resentment, and pain struggled from the depths of his throat:
"When... when will I finally be able to wear you openly, with my head held high?"
His voice echoed through the empty chamber, filled with boundless desolation and obsession.
The next morning, sunlight streamed into the room through the window.
Naruto briskly changed into the new winter clothes the Third had sent over the night before. Their snug fit made him look much more lively.
He picked up the thick envelope, carefully drew out a few banknotes, folded them in half, and tucked them into his somewhat worn wallet. Then he casually shoved the still-bulging envelope beneath his pillow.
Only after finishing all that did he clap his hands, quite satisfied, and get ready to leave.
It really made no difference whether he hid it or not.
Naruto knew perfectly well that nearly everything he did in this so-called "home," whether dressing, eating, training, or sleeping, was exposed to the eyes lurking in the shadows.
The ANBU tasked by the Third Hokage with watching and protecting him kept their eyes on this place at all times.
Besides, in this village that shunned him, no thief would ever visit the home of the "Demon Fox."
To most villagers, this was an ill-omened place. They dreaded even coming near it, much less sneaking inside to steal.
In a way, that universal hatred actually provided a different sort of "security."
Naruto opened the door and went outside.
He arrived at the secluded training clearing outside the village where he had arranged to meet his "teacher." Before long, he saw a figure sprinting toward him with wildly exaggerated vigor.
The man wore a green jumpsuit and his signature bowl cut, but a long white false beard hung incongruously from his face, bobbing as he ran.
"Yo! Naruto, punctual as ever!"
The newcomer stopped in front of Naruto, gave him a thumbs-up, and flashed a grin. A gleam shone off his pearly white teeth.
"Now that's you- ahem!"
He had nearly said "youth" out of habit, but fortunately caught himself in time. He vigorously stroked his blatantly fake beard and forced out a correction. "Now that's the vigor of the young!"
In fact, Might Guy was not teaching Naruto under his real identity.
There were practical considerations behind this rather clumsy disguise.
When Naruto first came to him and directly asked for instruction in Taijutsu, Might Guy had been touched by his enthusiasm, but refused outright.
He might have been oblivious, but he was no fool.
Naruto was the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki, an exceptionally sensitive identity. As an Elite Jonin serving directly under the Hokage, Guy could easily bring unnecessary trouble upon both himself and Naruto by forming too close a relationship with a Jinchūriki without permission.
Eventually, Naruto's persistence in coming to ask day after day, rain or shine, and the pure fire of "youth" burning in his eyes moved Might Guy enough to devise this compromise.
He went to a prop shop and bought the most conspicuous false beard available, then taught Naruto under the assumed identity of "Cheng Dai, the mysterious Taijutsu master."
And so a peculiar sight appeared in Konoha: a "Cheng Dai" with a ridiculous white beard stuck to his face, but a build and hairstyle identical to Might Guy's, leading the blond Naruto Uzumaki through frenzied physical training around the village every day.
Though anyone in the village could see through the shoddy disguise at a glance, everyone seemed to tacitly agree to remain silent. No one directly exposed Might Guy.
"Grandpa Cheng Dai, let's start training!"
Naruto called out eagerly, already warming up his arms and legs in his impatience.
"Good! That's the spirit!"
Might Guy raised his signature thumbs-up again, his white teeth gleaming with vigor alongside his false beard.
But then his smile faded, and his expression grew serious. "However, Naruto, given your current physical condition, your progress from basic fitness training has already begun to slow. The real challenge is only just beginning!"
As he spoke, he produced two leg weights from behind his back as though performing a magic trick. They did not look particularly heavy.
"Here! These are leg weights I prepared especially for you, based on your current physical limits!"
He held the weights out to Naruto, his tone full of encouragement. "Don't worry, they're not heavy at all. We'll start with one on each lower leg, just forty kilograms in total. Once you've fully adjusted, we'll keep adding more!"
His casual tone made it sound as though he were talking about anything but forty kilograms.
For any ordinary adult, strapping twenty kilograms of heavy metal to each leg would likely leave them staggering and gasping for breath just trying to walk normally, let alone attempting Might Guy's almost absurdly intense Taijutsu training.
It would have been utterly out of the question.
Naruto, however, was no ordinary person.
He was a Ninja who had undergone basic training, with physical capabilities far beyond those of ordinary people.
More importantly, the blood of the Uzumaki Clan, renowned for its immense vitality and tenacious endurance, flowed through his veins. He was also the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki.
His recovery, stamina reserves, and capacity to withstand physical strain all far surpassed those of ordinary Ninja.
Thus, for Naruto, who had already spent some time training hard and gradually drawing out his body's potential, the forty kilograms of weight were no unbearable burden. He could still clearly feel their heaviness, and moving was far more cumbersome than usual and consumed more stamina, but he could manage.
His movements were only slightly stiff when he first strapped them on. After taking a moment to adjust to the heaviness in his legs, he nodded to Guy to show he was ready.
"Good! Then today's youth... vigor training officially begins! First, ten laps around Konoha! If you can't finish ten laps around Konoha, then it's three thousand kicks! Let's go!"
Guy swept his arm forward and charged off first like a wild horse freed from its reins.
Naruto took a deep breath, moved his legs that felt as though they were filled with lead, and resolutely followed.
Every step took more effort than before, but the light in his eyes burned brighter and brighter.