At the peak of a mountain that seed to pierce the sky itself, Fujimoto Tōma sat quietly.
Below him stretched a land that now belonged entirely to one nation.
Two years had passed since the Fourth Shinobi War and the war of unification.
Ti, he reflected, moved faster than expected.
He still rembered the reactions when he announced the new nation’s na. Confusion. Surprise. And, strangely enough, acceptance.
Everyone except Fire Country.
The other nations had assud he would simply keep Fire Country’s na. When he discarded it entirely, sothing subtle shifted. If even the forr center had been reset, then no one could claim special status.
Equality through erasure.
Fire Country’s people had grumbled, of course, but at that ti Tōma’s word was absolute. No one dared argue.
And so the na was set.
In the first year, exactly as Tōma and Nara Shikaku had predicted, unrest followed.
A world that changed overnight could not remain calm.
This was where shinobi proved their value beyond warfare. Mobility. Precision. Individual strength. Crisis response.
Especially Naruto and Jiraiya.
Powerful enough to suppress chaos. Idealistic enough to protect civilians. Their presence alone prevented several regions from collapsing into prolonged conflict.
And because unification had been so fast, the instability burned out quickly.
On the surface, things looked normal again.
But Tōma knew better.
Political unification was easy. Cultural and ideological unity was the real battle.
People understood unification. That didn’t an they accepted it.
He had already distributed shared knowledge across the population through large-scale genjutsu during the transition. But understanding information and internalizing it were very different things.
True unity couldn’t be forced without turning everyone into puppets.
And that was never his goal.
Fortunately, ti was sothing he had plenty of.
His plan was simple. Govern well. Raise the next generation properly. Let stability outgrow resistance.
Slow, but solid.
Personally, not much had changed.
His responsibilities had grown from a village to a nation, but the work itself was the sa.
And he wasn’t alone.
Shikaku. Nara Shikamaru. Mabui. A growing strategist council that kept the system running efficiently.
The core policy was straightforward. Reduce poverty. Standardize trade. Let each region play to its strengths instead of competing blindly.
What had once been impossible due to borders was now routine.
From every report, both open and covert, the conclusion was the sa.
Things were improving.
For covert intelligence, Tōma relied on Black Zetsu and Orochimaru. Zetsu’s will had been rewritten long ago, and with Kaguya’s remnants sealed under his control, betrayal wasn’t a concern.
Publicly, he sent Jiraiya to travel the world.
It was what Jiraiya did best.
Later, at Jiraiya’s request, Nagato and Konan joined him.
At first, Jiraiya hesitated. He feared what Nagato might do if he saw unrest again. But after witnessing steady, visible improvent instead of endless cycles of violence, Jiraiya understood sothing important.
This world wasn’t perfect.
But it was healing.
That realization was worth sharing with people who once chased impossible ideals.
Funding them, ironically, was harder than fighting a war. Four individuals with Kage-level strength sohow managed to be perpetually broke.
Tōma funded them anyway.
People like that were assets.
And honestly... rebellion no longer worried him.
Everyone understood the sa truth now.
Opposing Fujimoto Tōma was suicide.
Longevity through the Natural Path only reinforced that reality. Immortality, even imperfect, was an offer no one could refuse.
As more people adopted it, older training systems faded away. A safer, more efficient thod replaced them naturally.
The world entered a new era.
Quietly.
"Running away again, Tōma?"
Yamanaka Ino’s voice ca from behind him.
She appeared in a flash, the moon sprite perched on her shoulder. She still hadn’t mastered Flying Thunder God herself, but the sprite handled that problem neatly.
"Isn’t it beautiful?" Tōma said, gesturing toward the glowing nation beneath the clouds.
"It is," Ino admitted. "But that’s not why you’re here."
He smiled and said nothing.
They had been married for a year now.
So had Hatake Kakashi and Shizune, who had collectively realized that waiting any longer would be biologically irresponsible.
Everything that could be done... had been done.
Except one thing.
Ino wasn’t pregnant.
Sana had opinions about that.
The reason was simple. Tōma’s life force was far beyond normal human limits. Without deliberate adjustnt, conception was... unlikely.
He wasn’t worried.
So things were better left to ti.
One thing was certain though.
If they had a child, that child’s potential would be absurd.
Inheritance wasn’t fair. It never had been.
But the path itself was open to everyone.
That was enough.
"Everyone’s weddings are coming up," Ino said quietly. "Naruto and Hinata. Sasuke and Sakura. Shikamaru and Temari."
"I know," Tōma replied.
She leaned against him. "You’re bored, aren’t you?"
He paused. "...A little."
"You keep getting stronger," she continued softly. "But there’s no one left to chase you."
She could feel it. Not loneliness of life. Loneliness of altitude.
The summit was cold.
"Tōma," she said suddenly, looking up at him with bright eyes. "Didn’t you say our child would be talented?"
"Yes."
"Then let’s raise them properly," she said. "Strong enough to stand across from you."
He blinked.
Then laughed.
"...Creating my own rival, huh."
Ino buried her face against his chest. "If you ever find sothing interesting again... go do it."
Tōma held her, looking toward the horizon.
After a long silence, he spoke.
"I’ll stay with you."
Ino didn’t answer. She just held on tighter.
The moon sprite tilted its head, watching quietly.
And sowhere deep inside, Fujimoto Tōma made a decision.
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