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[NNSS] Chapter : 89 - Hiruzen vs Onoki
🕑 Added 2025-10-24 14:54:53 +0000 UTCMori hadn’t joined the infiltration operation deep into the Grass Country.
Iwagakure had withdrawn only the Five-Tails’ jinchūriki—while the Four-Tails’ host, Rōshi, remained on the front lines.
He had to.
Tenzo’s Wood Release possessed great destructive force, but his ability to suppress a Tailed Beast was limited. In the original story, even restraining Naruto’s transformation required the necklace once worn by the First Hokage.
Thus, the dangerous infiltration mission fell to Kakashi, Tenzo, and an elite jōnin from the Hyūga branch family—responsible for long-range reconnaissance and counterintelligence.
But what truly gave that small team the confidence to infiltrate enemy lines—and even hold off a powerhouse like Kitsuchi—was its fourth member: Jiraiya.
Yes, Jiraiya himself had gone.
There were two reasons for this:
First, the rear base had been attacked. Ōnoki would certainly send a powerful commander to clean up the situation.
Second, Hiruzen Sarutobi had arrived.
The same “Professor” whom Orochimaru once admitted could easily kill him. With Hiruzen on the front, Konoha’s combat power was already more than sufficient.
Because Jiraiya accompanied the infiltration team, Kitsuchi had been unable to eliminate or even repel them completely. As a result, intelligence confirming his absence from the front was successfully transmitted back to Shikaku—through the messenger toads of Mount Myōboku.
And that intelligence had led to today’s strike.
“I thought you’d die of old age in Konoha, Hiruzen,” Ōnoki said coldly.
“You’re still alive and kicking yourself, Onoki,” Hiruzen replied mildly, that familiar kind smile on his lips. “Since only you’re left standing, I thought I’d drop by for a visit.”
“Then why don’t you come down and reminisce? It’s been a long time, Onoki.”
The appearance of the two Kage instantly froze the battlefield.
Rōshi withdrew his Tailed Beast Cloak and sat cross-legged atop his stone platform, though his gaze stayed locked on the masked Anbu.
Mori silently retreated to Hiruzen’s side, unfazed by Rōshi’s glare.
Ōnoki slowly descended, stopping about ten meters from Hiruzen.
“So,” the old Tsuchikage asked, “do you plan to kill me here, Hokage?”
“The war has dragged on long enough, Tsuchikage,” Hiruzen replied sincerely. “Withdraw your forces. Konoha has never sought Iwagakure’s destruction. Ending this war benefits us both.”
Ōnoki gave a short, mirthless laugh. “That may be good for Konoha, but it does nothing for Iwagakure. Save your noble words.”
He folded his hands behind his back, eyes narrowing.
“How about this—Konoha paid a price to end the war with Sand. And another for Cloud. So tell me, Hokage… what price will you offer this old man to let your village live?”
Hiruzen said nothing. He merely met Ōnoki’s gaze.
It wasn’t that he wouldn’t negotiate—he couldn’t.
Iwagakure’s military power was too vast.
Konoha could negotiate with Sunagakure, or even Kumogakure—but not with Iwagakure.
Konoha’s entire roster of twelve thousand shinobi represented fifty years of growth.
Meanwhile, Ōnoki had once mobilized ten thousand active ninja to attack the Raikage—and that wasn’t even Iwagakure’s full strength.
The Land of Fire was fertile and rich, yet even Konoha didn’t dare maintain such an army.
The Land of Earth, barren and harsh, somehow did.
Ōnoki kept his forces that large for one reason: expansion.
And any “price” paid to him would only become fuel for the next invasion.
“Jiraiya has already infiltrated deep into the Grass Country,” Hiruzen said evenly.
Ōnoki’s bushy brows twitched. The lines on his weathered face deepened, though his expression remained composed.
“Kitsuchi hasn’t returned yet, has he?”
There was no need for further words.
The implications were clear: Jiraiya’s team had likely reached an understanding with the Grass Village. Kitsuchi’s situation was unknown.
The front showed no progress.
The Hokage and a Wood Release user were both present.
Konoha had made up its mind to fight at any cost.
Just two short sentences carried enough weight to make Ōnoki’s mind churn.
After a long silence, he gave a quiet snort through his nose. “Hiruzen… it seems you’re not so old after all.”
Hiruzen met his eyes. “By tomorrow’s sunset, Konoha’s offensive will halt.”
With that promise made, the Third Hokage personally oversaw the front line as Ōnoki began issuing orders.
Under Hiruzen’s watchful gaze, Iwagakure’s forces started a disciplined, orderly withdrawal from the Kannabi Bridge.
Only after Konoha’s reconnaissance and barrier units confirmed the area was clear of traps did their troops advance cautiously, reclaiming the blood-soaked ground.
Kakashi’s team and Jiraiya returned by noon the next day.
And just before the deadline set by Hiruzen—sunset on the second day—Ōnoki led Iwagakure’s main army in a full retreat beyond the Grass Country border.
That afternoon, an envoy from the Grass Village arrived at Konoha’s command post to meet the Hokage.
Hiruzen, ever courteous, made no mention of Grass’s earlier silence and hesitation. He merely smiled, stating that Konoha had always respected—and would continue to support—the interests of the Grass Village.
Soon after, both sides dispatched personnel to establish joint outposts along the border between Grass and Earth, forming a new defensive line.
For now, the western front had gone still.
“Shikaku told me you’re still as sharp as ever, Roshi.”
Inside the temporary command tent, Hiruzen met with the young man, now out of his Anbu gear, alone.
“If not for your plan to create pressure through Grass Village’s movements, it wouldn’t have been so easy to corner that stubborn old man into retreat.”
“The plan was mine, but the credit belongs to Kakashi-senpai,” Roshii replied calmly. “Without his infiltration confirming Iwagakure’s intent to withdraw, none of our later deployments would’ve been possible.”
His tone was even, his expression composed. For Roshi, now a jōnin, military merit no longer mattered as much.
With the strength and influence he possessed, recognition would follow naturally.
What mattered more now was proving sound judgment—and demonstrating value.
That was how his words would gain weight.
“Young people shouldn’t be too modest,” Hiruzen said with a faint smile. “To read the flow of battle and find a workable path forward—that alone is remarkable talent.”
His eyes softened with admiration and something almost paternal.
“This Anbu mission ends here. You’ll return to the jōnin corps for now. But remember—if needed, you may still be called upon as Mori.”
He paused, then added, “Kakashi and Tenzo have other assignments. For now, Roshi, return to the village and rest.”
As he spoke, a slightly helpless smile crept onto Hiruzen’s face, almost sheepish.
“Though I should warn you—your two teammates seem rather upset about being left behind this time.”
Roshi blinked, genuinely puzzled.
