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[NSSSG] [ARC-08] Chapter : 269 - Konan
🕑 Added 2025-10-23 17:04:31 +0000 UTCKonan’s eyes flickered, her mind turning.
Kitazawa’s answer made sense—too much sense.
If he had boldly claimed he could cure Nagato outright, she would’ve doubted him immediately.
“I can take you to see him,” Konan said coolly.
“There’s no way I’m going to him personally.”
Kitazawa shook his head. “I know nothing about your Akatsuki Organization, and the Hidden Rain and Konoha are on unfriendly terms.”
Although the Akatsuki wasn’t yet recognized as the world’s enemy, Kitazawa knew better.
Obito—still hiding behind the name Madara—was already one of them.
And now, after Kitazawa had nearly killed Obito… that man surely dreamed of revenge.
Going to Akatsuki’s base would be no different from walking into a tiger’s jaws.
Even without Obito, the rest of Akatsuki’s roster was hardly reassuring.
They were all unpredictable monsters—each one capable of turning on him at a whim.
Only Konan, among them, still carried a trace of reason.
“I can guarantee your absolute safety,” Konan said firmly.
“We’ve only met twice,” Kitazawa replied, shaking his head again. “There’s no trust between us.”
Konan bit her lip lightly, at a rare loss for words.
Kidnap him?
That thought flashed through her mind—but she immediately dismissed it.
Kitazawa wasn’t someone who could be captured easily.
And beyond his personal strength, his position in Konoha made any direct move against him suicidal.
Attacking him would mean declaring war on the Leaf.
The Akatsuki wasn’t ready for that.
Neither Nagato nor the so-called Madara would allow her to disrupt the Eye of the Moon Plan so recklessly.
Should she give up?
Her rational mind said yes, but her heart—still clinging to the faint hope of healing Nagato—refused to yield.
“You can bring him to Konoha,” Kitazawa said at last.
“That’s impossible,” Konan replied without hesitation.
“Then don’t bring him into Konoha,” Kitazawa countered evenly. “Choose a location somewhere in the Land of Fire.”
He’d already guessed she’d reject his first offer, so he gave her a second—one she might actually accept.
Konan fell silent, considering.
It might just be the only viable compromise.
But persuading Nagato to travel into enemy territory… that would be difficult.
Finally, she looked up, her tone as clear and cold as rain.
“I’ll choose the location.”
“No problem.” Kitazawa nodded slightly. “But only the two of you can come.”
In truth, he was already planning to send a shadow clone in his place.
“Agreed,” Konan said without hesitation.
She wasn’t afraid.
Nagato, armed with the Rinnegan and the Six Paths of Pain, was beyond ordinary shinobi—his strength had already reached near-divine levels.
It was that power that gave Konan the confidence to recruit dangerous rogues into Akatsuki in the first place.
Even if Kitazawa tried to set a trap, she believed that she and Nagato could still walk away alive.
“As for the payment…” Kitazawa said with a small smile. “We’ll discuss that after I’ve seen him. Once you’ve chosen the meeting spot, contact me.”
Konan nodded once.
Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the darkening streets of Konoha, her footsteps fading like falling rain.
Kitazawa watched her leave, his fingers brushing his chin thoughtfully.
Nagato’s crippled legs… logically speaking, Obito—or rather, Madara—should’ve been able to heal them easily.
After all, Obito had rebuilt half his own body using Hashirama cells and White Zetsu tissue.
So why hadn’t he done the same for Nagato?
Kitazawa narrowed his eyes. Two possibilities came to mind.
First—Obito and Black Zetsu wanted Nagato crippled.
A god who couldn’t walk was easier to control.
Second—Nagato simply didn’t trust them.
Even if they offered help, he might have refused, fearing they’d tamper with him in the process.
Both reasons made perfect sense.
As for why Konan had sought him out specifically…
One, because of his newly developed Limb Regeneration jutsu.
And two, because in her eyes, Kitazawa had no conflict of interest with Nagato—no knowledge of the Eye of the Moon Plan, and no reason to betray them.
To her, it must’ve looked like a fair, clean deal.
Unfortunately for her, Kitazawa knew far more than she realized.
Still, it didn’t hurt to play along.
He would assess Nagato’s condition first, then decide how much help to offer—and what price to exact.
After all, Nagato’s real problem wasn’t his legs.
The Gedo Statue had drained his chakra and life force nearly dry.
Even if his limbs were restored, it wouldn’t change much.
But if the reward was high enough…
Kitazawa’s lips curved into a faint smile.
Then healing a god might just be worth his time.
—
“I’m back!”
Kitazawa called out as he pushed open the door to Kurenai’s home.
“Kitazawa!”
Kurenai appeared almost instantly, eyes bright with excitement. “I have good news for you!”
“Don’t tell me—you finally mastered Wind Release: Rasengan?”
Kitazawa’s gaze lingered on her face. Sweat glistened faintly on her fair forehead, and her flushed cheeks glowed like the evening sky. Clearly, she’d been training hard.
“Can’t you at least pretend not to guess?”
Kurenai puffed her cheeks, her excitement deflating.
“My mistake,” Kitazawa said with a grin, slipping an arm around her waist. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
“All you ever think about are indecent things.”
Kurenai glared, but her tone betrayed a hint of amusement.
“Speaking of that… do you remember our little bet?”
Kitazawa’s hand drifted lower, giving her rounded hips a playful squeeze.
“Hmph, I’m a woman of my word.”
Kurenai stomped on his foot lightly, pretending to scowl. “So? What’s your request?”
Kitazawa leaned close, whispering into her ear.
Kurenai’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “You—! Are you serious?”
“How about it? Can you do it?” he teased, smiling.
“Of course I can… but you really are the worst!”
She shot him a look of mock disgust.
“You just said you wouldn’t go back on your word.”
“Don’t underestimate me!”
Kurenai’s face flushed red as she snapped, “I’ll make you beg for mercy!”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Kitazawa’s fingers traced the curve of her thigh, earning an eye-roll before she turned away.
“I’m going to make dinner,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Her long, dark locks shimmered as she walked off, her graceful figure vanishing into the kitchen.
Kitazawa watched her until she disappeared, then finally looked away, a faint smile playing on his lips.
By the time Wednesday morning came, Kitazawa slipped quietly out of bed.
He glanced at Kurenai, still fast asleep, sprawled comfortably across the sheets, and couldn’t help but smile.
After preparing breakfast for her, he headed to the Ninja Academy.
Today, Naruto and Sasuke both wore unusually serious expressions.
Kitazawa didn’t need to ask why. The practical exam he’d announced yesterday was clearly on their minds.
This time, being number one in the Genius Class wasn’t just about raw strength—it would depend on teamwork, leadership, and mission performance.
It was a test of complete capability.
Under the old rules, Sasuke and Neji wouldn’t have been so eager—because first place always went to Naruto.
But now? Everything was up for grabs.
Kitazawa smiled to himself.
The new format was proving to be quite effective.
Leaving behind a Shadow Clone, he went to the advanced classroom to instruct Konoha Hospital’s Medical-Nin.
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the Hokage Office windows.
Leaving another Shadow Clone behind, Kitazawa’s main body made his way to the Hokage Building.
He knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came Tsunade’s voice.
Kitazawa pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“Oh, it’s you,” Tsunade said lazily.
Her usual composure as Hokage vanished in an instant. She leaned back in the chair, legs stretched out and crossed on top of the Hokage’s desk, looking completely unbothered.
From Kitazawa’s angle, her long legs and perfectly shaped hips were… impossible to ignore.
He cleared his throat. “Tsunade-sensei, if someone sees you sitting like that, your image as Hokage might take a hit.”
“It’s fine,” Tsunade murmured without opening her eyes. “Only you and Shizune ever come in anyway.”
She yawned and added, “I’ll take a nap first. You can go practice your Yin Seal.”
Within seconds, her breathing steadied—fast asleep.
Kitazawa glanced at her peaceful face, then at her chest rising and falling with each breath. She must be exhausted, he thought. And it was no surprise—being newly appointed Hokage meant constant paperwork, politics, and chaos.
Once her secretary officially took office next week, she’d finally have a moment to breathe.
He decided not to disturb her and stepped outside the building to practice Wood Release: Wood Wall.
Four in the afternoon.
Kitazawa returned to the office after his training. Tsunade had woken up and was already buried in documents.
“Run into any trouble?” she asked.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “But I do have something to report.”
He explained his idea for the new Genius Class practical exam format.
Tsunade frowned slightly. “You’re as daring as ever. Their skills are good, but they’re still just kids.”
“It’s only low-level missions,” Kitazawa assured. “There’s no danger. Besides, I’ll have ANBU tail them in secret.”
Tsunade considered that, then nodded. “Fine. We’ll test your idea for two months and see how it goes.”
He’d thought everything through so carefully that even she couldn’t find a reason to object.
“Coincidentally,” Tsunade continued, “I also have something to discuss. Two weeks from now—negotiations with the Hidden Mist Village. Do you want to attend?”
“Shikaku-senpai’s better suited for that,” Kitazawa replied after a moment. “But if you really want me there, I can go.”
Tsunade chuckled. “You really are my student—just as lazy as me.”
“This isn’t laziness, Sensei,” Kitazawa countered with a grin. “It’s called efficiency. A Hokage doesn’t need to do everything personally—only make sure the right person handles it the fastest.”
Tsunade paused, biting her thumb thoughtfully. “…That actually sounds reasonable.”
Kitazawa smiled. “By the way, how many Hokage secretaries are you planning to assign?”
“Three,” Tsunade said, folding her arms. “You, Shizune, and Shikaku. Though now that you mention it… Maybe I should add two more.”
“Wait—why am I on that list again?” Kitazawa asked, puzzled.
“Relax,” Tsunade replied casually. “Just giving you an extra title.”
Of course, the real reason was clear—being an ANBU Commander didn’t carry the same prestige as being the Hokage's Advisor. She was grooming him as her eventual successor, whether he realized it or not.
“Any suggestions for more candidates?” she asked.
Kitazawa’s lips curved slightly. “Since there are so many secretaries already, why not turn it into an entire department—the Hokage Secretariat?”
Tsunade blinked. “And what difference would that make?”
“A big one,” he explained. “It’d allow division of labor and smoother cooperation.”
He began describing the functions of such a department—based on what he remembered from his past life.
“First, it would handle Konoha’s daily affairs—minor issues wouldn’t need to reach you.
Second, it’d serve as a bridge between you and every village agency.
Third, it would draft regulations and documents.
Fourth, it would supervise how each department carries out your policies.
And fifth, it would mediate conflicts and keep operations running smoothly.”
Tsunade stared at him. Then, dead serious, she said, “You should just be Hokage.”
Kitazawa sighed. “Tsunade-sensei, please don’t joke like that.”
“I’m not joking,” she replied with a grin. “Fine—then be the next Hokage.”
He glared at her. “Can we stay on topic?”
“Sure, sure! Do as you say!” she laughed.
Still, her mind was already working. If this Secretariat truly functioned as Kitazawa described, it would cut her workload by at least two-thirds. In short—more time to drink and nap.
“I have another suggestion,” Kitazawa added. “What if the head of the Secretariat is called the Hokage Advisor?”
That made Tsunade pause. “You mean… take the authority away from the current advisors?"
Her lips twitched. The idea was tempting.
Homura and Koharu’s positions were practically ceremonial anyway. But if the new Hokage Advisor actually handled village operations, everyone would see who truly ran things.
“That’s exactly the point,” Kitazawa said. “The deputy heads can still be called Hokage Secretaries, while the rest are ordinary staff.”
Tsunade nodded slowly. “If that’s the case, we should make Shikaku the new advisor. With the Ino–Shika–Chō behind him, he wouldn’t have to fear the other two.”
“Agreed,” Kitazawa said. “As for secretaries—keep Shizune-senpai, and add one Uchiha and one Hyuga.”
Tsunade tapped the desk thoughtfully. “Those two clans never got close to the Hokage’s core before. The Uchiha had Kagami in the Guard Platoon, but the Hyuga? Never.”
“Times have changed,” Kitazawa said with a faint smile. “Give them real positions, and they’ll stand with us. In the end, this world still respects power above all else.”
Tsunade was silent for a few moments, then exhaled softly. “You’ve got more courage than I—or the old man—ever did.”
His confidence, his daring… for a moment, she was reminded of her grandfather, Hashirama.
Kitazawa just smiled. “I learned from you, after all. I’m your student, remember?”
“I like hearing that,” Tsunade said, smiling faintly. “Then tell me—how do you plan to fix the Uchiha Clan’s reputation problem?”
That was a critical issue. To appoint an Uchiha as Hokage Secretary, most of the Jōnin had to approve.
“Simple,” Kitazawa replied. “Decentralize and cooperate. I’ll talk to them personally.”
“Are you even listening to yourself?” Tsunade asked, half amused, half exasperated. “Who’s the Hokage here again?”
He chuckled. “It’s nothing drastic. I’ll just have the Uchiha share some of the Police Force’s authority in exchange for support from other clans.”
Tsunade immediately leaned back in her chair, waving a hand. “Alright, alright. You handle it. Just report the results later. We’ll announce everything at next week’s Jōnin meeting.”
