"Hold your junior disciple tight and don't let go"

"It looks like I can stop worrying about that child Kushina now."

"Thank you, young Amamiya Maki. You've done me a tremendous favor."

Amamiya Maki nodded gently.

He knew this brief family dinner was drawing to a close.

The dinner had been held for Kushina Uzumaki in the first place.

The Third urgently needed a steady anchor for Kushina, who had come to Konoha alone, so she could truly put down roots and become part of the village.

And that person happened to be him.

In Granny Mito's courtyard, he had sincerely praised her red hair.

In a classroom rife with bullying, he had told her that the only way to deal with those little thugs was to hit them hard.

Now Kushina had found her footing, and the bonds tying her to Konoha had fully taken shape.

Naturally, it was time for the dinner to end.

Hiruzen Sarutobi set down his chopsticks and looked out the window at the deepening night.

To outsiders, Konoha was thriving, peaceful, and secure.

But only he, who bore the burden of being Hokage, knew that the weight on his shoulders never eased for even a moment.

Day after day, he reviewed documents until nine or ten at night, then dragged his exhausted body home.

The food Biwako had saved for him was always long since cold.

Not one of his three disciples could truly ease his worries or help shoulder his troubles.

Jiraiya spent most of his time traveling, returning covered in the dust of the road.

On his rare visits to the village, he either buried himself in writing his Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi or sneaked off to peep at the Women's Bathhouse.

He inevitably ended up fleeing across the village with angry villagers chasing him, every bit the incorrigible troublemaker.

Tsunade stayed at Konoha Hospital, devoting herself to training her new disciple, Nonō.

For her, staying away from alcohol and gambling dens and behaving herself was already a tremendous improvement.

Her proposal for a medical ninja system was immensely valuable, yet Hiruzen Sarutobi still hesitated to approve it.

Because he had another bottomless pit to fill: Orochimaru.

Orochimaru's experiments burned through money like water, and every funding request was neatly written, backed by impeccable-sounding justifications.

Yet Hiruzen Sarutobi could never quite shake his unease.

Sooner or later, the jars and bizarre experiments in those laboratories would leave him unable to eat or sleep in peace.

But he wanted another Hashirama Senju far too badly.

That was also why Orochimaru would later become so deeply entwined with Danzo.

Danzo could give him more resources without making him write tedious funding reports, letting him conduct research however he pleased.

As for Danzo, he was willing to volunteer for a share of the work, but his methods were far too extreme and ruthless.

Those dirty dealings that could never see the light of day were always handled cleanly and efficiently when entrusted to Danzo.

Yet that very ruthless efficiency kept Hiruzen Sarutobi from ever fully handing over authority.

Mitokado Homura and Utatane Koharu were overly worldly, old-school politicians who followed the rules and never moved unless pushed.

They always prioritized the village's balance and dignity, never looking deeply into what Konoha truly needed.

With no other choice, all the pressure and burdens ultimately fell on him, the Hokage.

Everyone believed the Hokage ruled the entire village and controlled everything.

But only he knew that he was merely the one who quietly cleaned up everyone's messes and dealt with the fallout.

The dinner officially came to an end.

Hiruzen Sarutobi draped his ceremonial Hokage robe over his shoulders and walked slowly toward the Hokage Building.

His steps were a little heavier than when he had arrived, but a faint warmth still lingered in his eyes.

During dinner, Nawaki had clumsily tried to place some food in Amamiya Maki's bowl, only to drop it.

The sight of Amamiya Maki expressionlessly picking it up and returning it to Nawaki's bowl, quietly chiding him for wasting food, had briefly sent Hiruzen's mind drifting.

Decades ago, he too had been a fumbling child who kept dropping food while eating.

Teacher Tobirama had quietly cleaned up after him, saying those same words with an expressionless face, gentle yet restrained.

Meanwhile, Nawaki, Orochimaru, and Amamiya Maki left the Sarutobi Clan's residence together.

The moment they stepped through the courtyard gate, Nawaki slowed abruptly and spun around.

The boy's cheeks flushed slightly with sheer excitement. A moment later, he spread his arms and hugged Amamiya Maki hard.

The embrace came without warning, clumsy in its force but utterly sincere.

Like an eager little kangaroo, he seemed determined to stuff his companion into his pouch with all his strength, holding nothing back, brimming with enthusiasm.

"Amamiya Maki! We're fellow disciples now! I'll make sure to take good care of you!"

The squeeze tightened around Amamiya Maki's ribs, catching his breath.

Without betraying a thing, he raised his hands, gripped Nawaki's wrist, and slowly pried his fingers loose one by one.

But Nawaki's fingers were like exceptionally resilient vines. The moment one came loose, another wrapped around him.

The formidable vitality ingrained in the Senju Clan's very bones was on full display in that astonishing grip.

Only after three rounds of tugging did Amamiya Maki finally escape that lethal human restraint.

"All right, all right, I get it. Let go first."

He grumbled silently to himself.

So this was the bond Konoha kept talking about passing down through the generations?

Don't literally bind us together!

Even after his hands were forcibly pried away, Nawaki showed no displeasure. His face still shone with an unclouded smile.

He had grown up carefully sheltered, but it had not been the protection of a cage.

Rather, whatever storms came his way, someone had always stood in front of him.

Everyone put him on a pedestal, deferred to him, or even used him, but no one had ever dared speak a single honest word to his face.

Amamiya Maki alone was different.

Beneath all his dazzling prestige, he had seen the ordinary, genuine Senju Nawaki.

Those blunt words, a little sharp and entirely devoid of polite pretense, had instead become the most precious expressions of sincerity Nawaki had ever heard.

Only Amamiya Maki treated him as an equal his own age.

Amamiya Maki's own motives, however, were simple.

He pressured Minato to farm Flying Thunder God talent fragments.

He pressured Tsunade to obtain Monster Strength talent fragments.

Naturally, he pressured Nawaki to plunder fragments of the Senju Clan's extraordinary vitality.

He simply made a habit of squeezing mental stress out of the people around him, never thinking much of it.

He had never expected to stumble into opening the most tightly sealed door in Nawaki's heart.

Behind that door was the lonely boy from the original story, who had died young in war without anyone ever truly understanding him.

Orochimaru stood quietly to one side, taking in the entire scene.

The usual cold indifference faded from his distinctive golden slit pupils, and the faintest curve touched his lips.

Nawaki was pure-hearted and warm, like a little sun, innocent and sincere, with no defenses against anyone.

But the prestige surrounding him was so heavy that it kept children his age from getting close.

As a result, Nawaki had never had a true close friend his own age.

Now, at last, he had found a companion he could trust completely, someone around whom he need not keep his guard up.

Even Orochimaru, now renowned and aloof, had once known the sincerest of bonds.

Jiraiya might seem utterly unruly, fooling around all day, but whenever danger came, he was always the first to step forward and rush to the front lines.

Tsunade might be addicted to gambling, fond of drink, and willful, but when he had been trapped in a desperate situation, surrounded by powerful enemies, she had smashed through three walls and charged in to save him without a second thought.

Of course, it would have been even better if she visited gambling dens less often and he drank a little less.

At that moment, he suddenly understood the bonds the Third spoke of.

They were never ties of blood, nor the formal status of master and disciple.

They were the connections forged through repeatedly becoming entangled in one another's lives, offering companionship and support, until they became impossible to sever.

"Nawaki, Amamiya Maki."

Orochimaru's quiet voice brought the two of them back from their emotions.

"Come see me tomorrow at eleven in the morning."

"My recent research has just reached a stopping point. This is a good opportunity to assess your current abilities and draw up individual training plans for you both."

Moonlight fell over him as his snake-like eyes narrowed slightly. His voice returned to its usual cool steadiness, though a note of gravity lay beneath it.

"According to the intelligence Jiraiya brought back this time, the peace in the Shinobi World is only temporary. Another wave of turmoil may be approaching."

"In the days ahead, you must grow stronger as quickly as possible."

"Yes!"

Senju Nawaki and Amamiya Maki answered in unison, their voices firm.

Nawaki still wore a goofy grin, basking in the joy of having forged a brotherly bond.

Amamiya Maki quietly withdrew his hand, lowered his head, and gently rotated his wrist.

Nawaki's embrace had been a full three times stronger than a normal hug, leaving two faint red marks on his wrists.

He muttered inwardly.

Hopefully tomorrow's training plan wouldn't include some ridiculous exercise like "hold your junior disciple tight and don't let go."

But from what he knew of Orochimaru, his master's training regimen would most likely be even harsher-and more absurd.