Five hours remained until midnight.
Thirteen hours until eight o'clock tomorrow morning...
The clock on the south wall ticked away the seconds. It was 7 PM, and the setting sun dyed Kukuroo Mountain in a sea of crimson...
Silva stretched his bare upper body. He did the splits, resting each leg on a chair. The muscles in his thighs, back, chest, and arms bulged with blood, the thick veins beneath his skin clearly visible like writhing dragons. At a glance, he exuded an overwhelming visual impact and oppressive presence...
At a certain moment, the man turned his head toward the door. With a creak, the door was pushed open from the outside. Immediately after, a head of spiky white hair standing on end entered Silva's line of sight. Zeno, having finished dinner with Netero, walked in with his hands behind his back.
He took a few steps to the window, looking at Kukuroo Mountain winding and sprawling across the earth like a massive dragon, and asked softly, "You seem anxious?"
*Crack, crack, crack...* As Silva moved, his elbows, shoulders, and knuckles emitted a series of sharp pops...
The man's silver hair cascaded like quicksilver, pooling on the floor as he remained silent.
Zeno paid him no mind and continued, "You've waited a year or two already, Silva... Did you ever think Roy would reach this point?"
"Did you, Father?" Silva rolled his neck, his gaze passing over Zeno's shoulder to watch the sunset completely vanish beneath the horizon. As the bright moon rose, the night grew thicker. He threw the question back at Zeno.
Zeno slid the window open, letting the evening breeze rustle his white hair, and admitted bluntly, "No."
"At first, I just thought he was mediocre. Maybe he had a little talent, but his absolute limit would barely qualify him as an assassin. Who could have known he would turn out like this today..."
Zeno looked back at Silva and asked, "When do you think that child started to change?"
"From the day he asked me to help him open his Aura Nodes." Silva recalled the past, never forgetting the stubbornness in the boy's eyes back then. It was a look that refused mediocrity, refused to sink into obscurity, and refused to achieve nothing—a look filled with an extreme desire to grow stronger!
It was a gaze brimming with fighting spirit and ambition!
The man watched the bright moon spill its light, draping Kukuroo Mountain in a thin veil, and said deeply, "He refused to be an ordinary person."
"So,"
"He walked step by step to get to where he is now!"
"To stand before me!"
"Yes, come to think of it, it hasn't even been three years..." Zeno turned his head to look at the deepening night sky, his wandering gaze filled with indescribable emotion...
Silva lowered his eyelids slightly, remaining silent.
He had almost forgotten. Just as his father said, from that day until now, at most, it hadn't even been three years!
As the man's emotions fluctuated, a gust of wind blew his hair, scattering it across his eyes...
Zeno glanced back at him at the right moment, chuckling meaningfully. "Looking at you, that brat Roy is far calmer than you are."
Silva asked, "What is he doing right now?"
"Sleeping." Zeno's expression carried a hint of oddity. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and let out a suppressed, raspy laugh. "He really is carefree. It seems... he hasn't taken you seriously at all."
Silva stretched his arms expressionlessly. With a sharp crack, he clenched his fists, directly bursting the air in his palms. A muffled pop echoed leisurely through the room...
The man looked up again, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a cold smirk. "Tomorrow, he will learn his lesson."
Zeno narrowed his eyes and hummed noncommittally, drawling, "I thought the same thing back then, but the result..."
"There is no result!" Silva interrupted Zeno with unquestionable authority, simply stating, "I am not you, Father. I am not that weak."
Zeno fell silent.
With his back to Silva, the corner of his eye twitched uncontrollably. He let out a cold laugh. "Then I will be watching closely."
It was only one more night, after all...
He, Zeno, could afford to wait...
With his white hair swaying, Zeno hunched his back and left Silva's study with his hands behind him.
*Tick, tock...* The clock on the south wall ticked, its minute hand advancing another ten minutes...
The old man changed into his nightgown, looking remarkably like Maha from a distance. He paced away, muttering, "That kid sure is sleeping for a long time..."
*Bang!* He swung the door shut behind him.
The door trembled and groaned. Clearly... Zeno had used some force; he was a bit angry...
But Silva didn't care at all.
He was just telling the truth, as always, just as he firmly believed, as always... that he would not lose!
He couldn't find a single reason or excuse to lose in any aspect...
He simply continued to stretch his body, preparing for tomorrow...
*Creak...* It was 8 PM. A full seven hours had passed since Roy started his afternoon nap.
Tsubone had gone straight from preparing lunch to preparing dinner, keeping an eye on Roy's movements the whole time. Taking advantage of this moment of free time, she held two infants, one in each arm, and began to coax them...
The infant on the left had snow-white skin, while the one on the right had pitch-black skin...
The old butler pulled up a small folding stool and sat near the entrance to the kitchen hallway, absentmindedly tending to the children. At a certain moment, she heard footsteps echoing from the other end of the hall. Soon after, two heads of blonde hair appeared... one tied in a high ponytail, the other falling softly over the shoulders...
Kurajing walked over slowly with Kurapika. She bowed to her and said, "Lady Tsubone."
Tsubone, still coaxing the children, glanced at Kurapika and gave Kurajing a slight nod. "There is hot food in the kitchen. Serve yourselves and eat."
Kurajing nodded somewhat sheepishly.
Noticing the two children in Tsubone's arms, she quickly offered, "How about I help you deliver the young master's meal?"
Tsubone gently patted Canary's back. "No need. The young master hasn't woken up yet."
Kurajing was taken aback. Beside her, Kurapika's eyes flickered as he looked over as well...
The young girl recovered her wits and replied respectfully, "Yes."
She turned and led Kurapika into the kitchen.
"Sister, what's wrong?"
The kitchen had tables and chairs specifically for the Zoldyck butlers and servants.
Kurapika sat at the table with Kurajing after getting their food, glancing at his sister as he asked in a low voice.
Kurajing didn't speak. She finished her dinner in silence and led Kurapika back to the bedroom Tsubone had arranged for him. Only when she reached the window, gazing through the hazy moonlight at the Zoldyck family castle at the mountain's peak, did she speak with her back to Kurapika. "Pika, didn't you ask me today exactly how powerful the young master is?"
"I think you will see it tomorrow."
Kurapika's expression shifted. He wanted to ask, but considering his sister's position and his own current status of living under someone else's roof, it really wasn't appropriate to know too much. He merely gave a soft hum of acknowledgment.
Looking up again, he joined Kurajing in gazing at the peak of Kukuroo Mountain, silently calculating the time...
*Dong...* At 9 PM, the wooden grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour.
In Roy's bedroom, the curtains rustled in the wind, swaying to let the moonlight shine through the clear glass window, adding a touch of tranquility to Roy as he lay on the soft bed...
The young man remained deep in his dreams, yet to awaken.
At that moment, in the Naruto world, he was in the Southern Forest with Sakumo Hatake, quietly sipping tea while Shisui and Itachi trained nearby.
Even though there were no tea leaves—just boiled water—drinking it somehow brought out a faint sorrow of parting...
Minato Namikaze was heading to the battlefield, and Obito was going too. The White Fang before him, along with his son Kakashi and Rin Nohara, were all heading to the battlefield... Roy raised his cup to Sakumo Hatake from afar, tilted his head back, and drained the hot tea completely...
His breezy and free-spirited demeanor caught Sakumo Hatake's eye, giving him a momentary illusion. It was as if... the boy in front of him was a peer of the same age, rather than... a half-grown child not even ten years old.
Konoha's White Fang returned the toast, taking a gentle sip of his hot tea, and smiled. "Then here's to everyone winning their battles..."
Roy smiled, meeting Sakumo Hatake's warm gaze.
Suddenly, he asked, "Uncle White Fang, what do you think is more important? The mission, or your comrades?"
Sakumo Hatake was slightly taken aback. Rubbing the stone cup in his hands, he fell into deep thought...
After a long while, he looked up at Roy and asked, "Why do you ask?"
Roy spoke bluntly, "I'm just curious. I want to know the answer."
Sakumo Hatake furrowed his brow, pondering carefully for another moment. He stared intently at the ripples forming in his stone cup from the wind and murmured, "In terms of duty, a ninja must prioritize completing the mission above all else. So, the mission is important. But..."
"In terms of loyalty, a ninja cannot abandon their comrades to complete a mission, leaving them to be killed by the enemy. Looking at it that way, comrades are also important..."
"So?" Roy lifted the stone pot to pour more tea for Sakumo Hatake, looking at the man seriously. "Does Uncle White Fang lean more toward the mission or comrades?"
Sakumo Hatake furrowed his brow tightly, thinking for another long while before slowly shaking his head. "I don't know. But if I had to abandon my comrades and ignore them, I don't think I could do it."
"Then you lean toward comrades." Roy understood.
Konoha's White Fang was still Konoha's White Fang—a true man who valued bonds more than missions, holding them higher than the sky itself!
Unfortunately, such men were far too rare. Their light shone too brightly, making them easy targets for petty people, destined to be buried in filth... Roy looked deeply at Sakumo Hatake. In the original story, the ones who hurt him and ultimately drove him to his death were none other than... the very comrades he had saved with his own hands!
If his comrades hadn't joined the villagers in pointing fingers and whispering behind his back, he likely wouldn't have been pushed to the brink and chosen suicide!
Even if just one person had spoken up for him back then—just a single sentence—the tragedy would never have happened!
Of course, whether the Hokage had tacitly approved of it, or if Danzo, Koharu Utatane, and Homura Mitokado had pushed it from behind... Roy didn't know, nor did he want to know...
The teacup was filled...
The boy set down the stone pot in his hands, flashing a bright smile at Sakumo Hatake. "Uncle White Fang, do you want to hear my answer?"
Sakumo Hatake was slightly taken aback. Recovering his wits, he smiled at Roy. "Go ahead, I'm listening."
Roy reached out and caught a green leaf drifting slowly in the wind, playing with it in his palm. "Missions and comrades are both important, and yet neither is important. In my eyes, nothing is more important than 'me staying alive'!"
With a thought, the boy rubbed his thumb and index finger together. Suddenly, a small flame sparked, instantly igniting the green leaf and burning it to ash...
He then stood up, watching Shisui and Itachi steadily and methodically progressing through their sword swings. He narrowed his eyes and said, "Once a person dies, even if the world floods, it has nothing to do with them anymore. Therefore, only by living—by continuing to live—can one truly find the answer to this question."
"What do you think?"
"Uncle White Fang?"
Roy turned his head to look at Sakumo Hatake at just the right moment.
Sakumo Hatake visibly fell into silence. Clearly... he was shocked... by Roy's answer!
It was obvious that the boy's answer was more selfish, more self-centered, and somewhat extreme. It didn't align with Konoha's current mainstream ideology, nor did it fit the Will of Fire that had been passed down from generation to generation for nearly a century since the First Hokage founded Konoha. Yet... a voice in the dark kept telling Sakumo Hatake...
On second thought, the boy's answer wasn't entirely unreasonable!
When your own life is gone, missions and comrades are gone too. Just like those ninjas who died in the war, they ultimately turned into nothing but a handful of yellow dirt, perhaps not even leaving behind an intact corpse!
A glimmer of light gradually returned to Sakumo Hatake's contemplative eyes.
After a long while, he snapped out of his daze and looked at Roy profoundly. "Sometimes, I feel like you're far too mature for a child your age..."
Roy shrugged. "The Hokage said the same thing."
"Is that so?" Sakumo Hatake chuckled softly. His brow relaxed, and feeling relieved, he picked up his teacup. Mimicking Minato Namikaze, he tilted his head back and gulped down the rest of his tea until it was completely gone!
*Phew...*
In just a few breaths...
The tea was gone.
The cup was empty.
The man let out a refreshing sigh. With another glance, he set down the teacup, stood up tall, and looked warmly at Roy. "Jin, I'm leaving too..."
"When I return, I'll have tea with you again."
Roy extended his right hand, sticking out his pinky finger, and winked at Sakumo Hatake. "Pinky promise, Uncle."
"If I really don't see you when you get back, don't blame me for taking it out on Kakashi."
Sakumo Hatake paused slightly, then pointed at Roy and scolded with a laugh, "You brat, you dare threaten me! A pinky promise it is!"
With that, he extended his pinky and hooked it with Roy's...
Nearby, Shisui, who had been sneaking glances, suddenly lost focus. As he swung his sword, his strength faltered, and the blade deviated by a millimeter. *Clatter...* Two pebbles embarrassingly fell straight out of the basket.
Immediately after, the boy's body trembled as he felt a breath of cold air blow against the back of his neck...
"Shisui, add ten thousand more!"
"..." Shisui looked utterly defeated, wanting nothing more than to slap himself.
He hurriedly reset his stance and began swinging his sword earnestly. Before they knew it, the sun had set in the west, dyeing half the sky red.
The boy finally completed two sets of ten thousand sword swings.
Dragging his sore, swollen arms, he was pulled by the collar by Roy and led back to the Uchiha clan compound...
*Caw...* As the night deepened, an occasional crow pierced the night sky, landing on an eave to preen its feathers with its beak...
Roy walked Shisui home, then led Itachi back to their house. After eating dinner with his mother, Mikoto, he went to sleep...
When he opened his eyes again...
A pair of elongated Buddha-like earlobes hazily entered his line of sight...
"Ho ho ho... You're awake..."