The trust between Tailed Beasts and humans could never be built on just a few words from Hakken.
Especially since Hakken wasn’t Naruto—talking things out was never his specialty. He was much better at speaking through his blade.
If he didn’t like you, he’d cut you down. If you caught his eye, he’d hand you a sake gourd. Share a drink, and you were acquaintances. Share another cup later and earn his approval—that made you friends.
A simple man with simple rules.
So naturally, the Nine-Tails wouldn’t agree so easily. Recognition from it wasn’t earned through words but through actions.
Hakken didn’t push the matter.
If fate willed it, the Nine-Tails would eventually turn into a well-behaved husky.
If not, then so be it—nothing he couldn’t handle. Everything depended on fate.
Trust was sothing built slowly. They’d only known each other for a few days. The fact that Kurama now obediently stayed ho, guarding the house, was already impressive.
As for Kushina, the effects of having the Tailed Beast extracted had already healed completely, thanks to the Sage Seal’s power.
Now, she was simply a great mother.
The Nine-Tails’ rampage was over—but Konoha faced new problems in its wake.
Naturally, Minato’s thoughts turned to his talented disciple.
In the Hokage’s office, Hakken sat stroking his Zanpakutō, deep in thought.
“Danzō Shimura is dead. That gives the villagers so closure,” Minato said as he stepped away from the Hokage’s desk and sat beside him.
“Dead is dead. The Third’s always been like that. At least this ti, he personally sent Danzō to the afterlife.”
Hakken yawned, clearly uninterested.
He couldn’t be bothered with such things. If the Third hadn’t acted first, he would’ve sliced Danzō’s soul apart piece by piece, sealing it in his Zanpakutō—just to make sure the man never found peace, even in death.
But since Danzō was already gone, there was no point thinking about it now.
“There’s another issue—Konoha’s dical system is in trouble. That hospital was completely destroyed thanks to the Nine-Tails... and your slash.”
“The current Head of the dical Corps isn’t quite up to the job. I checked, and things aren’t running smoothly. So...”
Minato’s tone turned awkward. Ever since Tsunade, one of the Sannin, had left the village, Konoha’s dical standards had plumted. There wasn’t a single dical-nin worth ntioning anymore.
“You want Tsunade to return to the village?”
Hakken imdiately understood. Whatever else could be said about Tsunade-hi, her dical Ninjutsu—her healing power—was second to none.
After a brief pause, Hakken nodded slightly. “Once I’m done with this matter, I’ll go find her and try my luck. With Danzō dead, at least the Senju Clan finally has so closure.”
Minato exhaled in relief. Having Lady Tsunade back would be a great boon for the village.
But sothing Hakken said caught his attention—“once this matter is settled.”
What matter? Was there sothing else important going on?
“Have we identified those bodies yet?”
Tilting his head, Hakken’s eyes glead sharply. That was what concerned him most.
Taking a hit without striking back wasn’t his way.
Nor was it Konoha’s way anymore.
The Root operatives Danzō had mobilized were just a fraction of the attackers. Besides Obito and the White Zetsu he brought, there had to be others involved behind the scenes.
“It’s hard to tell,” Minato admitted. “There weren’t any distinctive features, and the ninjutsu used varied wildly, almost as if...”
He trailed off, a bitter smile forming on his lips.
“As if the other four Great Villages had joined forces and launched a coordinated strike against Konoha, right?”
Hakken let out a cold laugh, his expression darkening with killing intent.
The only village Obito could directly command was Kirigakure, the Hidden Mist.
After Rin’s death, Yagura—the Fourth Mizukage—had beco the new Jinchūriki of the Three-Tails.
Getting Yagura to send troops to attack Konoha would be child’s play for Obito.
But in a place like Kirigakure, few shinobi were proficient in elental jutsu beyond Water Release.
That ant, apart from the known enemies—Root, the Mist Village, and White Zetsu—there were others involved as well.
Hakken imdiately set his sights on the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth.
As for the Land of Lightning—unless the Fourth Raikage, A, had a death wish, there was no way he’d dare provoke Konoha without knowing its current strength. Especially now, when Kumogakure’s forces still hadn’t fully recovered, they wouldn’t risk making any reckless moves.
So the targets for vengeance were clear: the Land of Water, the Land of Wind, and the Land of Earth.
He had no idea what kind of deal Obito had made to convince them, but one thing was certain—the prestige of the First Hidden Village was not sothing that rabble like them could challenge.
“It seems that way,” Minato said helplessly, “but Hakken, you have to understand—without direct evidence, we can only swallow this outco. We don’t even have a concrete target for retaliation.”
Though the damage this ti was small, many new nas had already been etched onto the Wall of Honor. They were the heroes who had charged ahead, giving their lives for Konoha.
“Why not?”
Hakken raised an eyebrow and stood, resting his Zanpakutō on his shoulder.
“Hakken, calm down.”
Minato placed a hand on his disciple’s shoulder. “I’m angry too. But Konoha has never had a precedent for direct retaliation. If we strike back recklessly, it could…”
“…throw the entire ninja world into chaos.”
The consequences would be imnse.
Minato trusted his disciple’s strength and resolve to honor the fallen, but revenge had to be approached carefully—one step at a ti.
“I have a question, Minato-sensei.”
Turning toward him, Hakken’s gaze hardened.
“Why has Konoha never crossed the border? Never set foot on another nation’s soil?”
“Except for the Land of Rain, in every war—the First, the Third—we’ve only ever defended against invasion.”
“Even when victory was within reach, instead of pressing the advantage, Konoha chose to negotiate peace. Why?”
Minato froze, caught off guard by the question. After several seconds of silence, he finally replied.
“Because even defending took a devastating toll. Especially during the Third Shinobi World War—fighting on multiple fronts drained Konoha completely. Under those conditions, we had no strength left to continue.”
“No.”
Hakken’s tone softened, but his eyes remained sharp. “That’s a difference in mindset. Let give you an example. During the Third Shinobi World War, Minato-sensei, you were called the Yellow Flash.”
“You could have easily breached enemy lines, wiped out their troops, and made them understand that Konoha is not to be trifled with.”
“You could have shown them the price of invading the Land of Fire.”
“But you didn’t. Once the situation stabilized, you chose peace talks instead.”
“I understand—if you had pressed forward, the enemy would’ve fought to the death.”
“But so what?”
Hakken gripped his Zanpakutō tighter, pointing it toward the window. He wasn’t blaming Minato; they simply thought differently.
A Hokage had to prioritize the greater good.
But he wasn’t the Hokage.
“If it were ,” he said coldly, “anyone who lays a hand on my people—I’ll wipe out their entire village.”
“Fight to the bitter end, even if it ans mutual destruction.”
“Even in death, I’ll tear a piece of flesh from them.”
“Only then will they learn to fear Konoha.”
Hakken drew in a deep breath. The killing intent in his eyes burned darker, heavier.
“Two hundred elite ANBU are on standby.”
“I’m going back to fight.”
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