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[NNSS] Chapter : 53
🕑 Added 2025-10-08 17:40:41 +0000 UTCAfter explaining the situation, Tsunade pushed open the door and stepped out.
Roshi followed a moment later, leaving the quiet room behind.
The hallway was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the wooden floor. He quickened his pace to walk beside her.
“Will Itachi’s condition relapse?” he asked.
Tsunade glanced at him briefly, her stride steady. “I have no reason to lie to you. It was completely removed—no aftereffects.”
Roshi exhaled softly, shoulders easing.
As the one who had devised the operation, every outcome—every casualty—fell under his responsibility. Since the mission’s end, he had replayed every step countless times. He could not escape his share of blame.
The greatest mistake, he knew, had been optimism.
He had overestimated the Wasabi House’s defenses. Even suspecting an attack and knowing their intelligence was incomplete, he’d still believed his squad could hold the line.
The safer choice would have been to order Jirocho and Itachi into immediate hiding. Instead, he’d left them visible—bait for the enemy.
Worse still, the mission’s purpose had shifted midcourse. What began as an intelligence operation for the Black Snake Group had devolved into a direct, decisive battle.
The victory came—but at a dangerous price. That feeling of losing control gnawed at him, forcing him to reexamine every flaw in his strategy.
Tsunade’s voice cut through his thoughts. “That Uchiha kid… he’s Fugaku’s son, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Hmph.” She gave a vague, knowing grunt. “So what are you planning now?”
Her tone was casual, but her eyes were sharp. Roshi’s tactics during the Black Snake Group incident had left a strong impression—outwardly harmless, but with the subtlety of an old fox underneath.
He gave a helpless smile. “Itachi joining my squad was the village’s decision, not mine. As for plans… I only have some thoughts about the Uchiha situation.”
“You should already know things in the Uchiha Clan have worsened—especially after the Fourth Hokage’s death.”
“Back in my granduncle’s time, the Uchiha tried rebellion too. Nothing new,” Tsunade said, almost dismissively. “The real issue is that old man’s hesitation.”
If such matters weren’t dealt with swiftly and decisively, would they just wait for the Uchiha to reach consensus? To her, Hiruzen’s current approach wasn’t resolution—it was avoidance.
They’d just come through years of war. Now that peace was settling in, shouldn’t there be a plan?
“It’s different this time, Lady Tsunade,” Roshi replied quietly. “The village’s losses are too great.”
Decades ago, Madara’s actions had been stopped by Hashirama before real damage was done.
But now—Konoha had lost the Fourth Hokage, been ravaged by the Nine-Tails’ attack, and bled for three years in the war that followed.
The new names carved into the memorial stone told their own story—countless shattered families, unending grief. The village’s tolerance toward the Uchiha had reached its limit.
And the Uchiha, unable to explain the Sharingan’s appearance during the Nine-Tails’ attack, found themselves branded by suspicion.
Without full knowledge—without truth—how could anyone remain impartial?
Had he not known better, Roshi himself might have felt the same resentment. His predecessor had fought on the front lines; his comrades had died there.
Tsunade stopped suddenly and turned, her gaze sharp as a blade. “What’s the point of telling me all this? I’m retired.”
“Just explaining the situation to you,” Roshi replied softly.
Tsunade snorted. “Tell that to yourself. You’re young, but every word you say carries a dozen hidden meanings. Stop being so roundabout.”
She sighed and absently clutched the cold pendant at her neck. “In the end, Grandpa’s dream failed.”
The dream of the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama—to create Konoha and end the age of endless war.
Her mind flickered through painful memories: Tobirama, ambushed by the Kinkaku and Ginkaku brothers; her brother Nawaki, barely grown, blown apart by an explosive tag; her lover, Dan, dying with his organs destroyed by enemy jutsu.
Roshi said nothing. The hallway filled only with their quiet breathing.
After a long silence, he spoke. “You’ve traveled far, met countless people, seen much of the world. I’m sure you’ve already drawn your own conclusions about it all.”
He bowed slightly. “I still have matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave, Lady Tsunade.”
Tsunade watched him go, his figure fading at the corridor’s end. Her lips pressed together unconsciously.
Why… even after all these failures, did she still find herself unable to look away?
He truly did have business to handle. After visiting Itachi, Jirocho was waiting.
With the Black Snake Group wiped out, the Chayama Gang and the Hejies Family had crumbled as well.
Still, proper procedures had to be followed. The Wasabi messenger had already been sent again—this time, carrying word of the Black Snake Group’s downfall.
By now, news should have returned.
When Roshi entered the reception room, a servant ushered him toward two men seated across a low table.
One wore a black hat and crimson robe—the Daimyō’s envoy. He was already speaking to Jirocho.
“Hejies Yuuma proved blind in judgment, deceived by mere bandits,” the envoy said coldly. “He has shamed the Daimyō’s trust. I have already ordered him to take his own life. Leadership of the Hejies family will pass to Hejies Rokurō.”
The man turned to Roshi. “You must be the Konoha shinobi. The Daimyō expresses his gratitude for your efforts. The Black Snake Group’s schemes were vile—and remnants of their recruits still remain on Naqi Island.
The Daimyō wishes to commission Konoha to eradicate them. Please, lend your aid.”
Roshi inclined his head. “Once the formal request reaches the village, Konoha will assign a team. As for us, my squad’s mission is complete. We’ll soon return.”
“Then I’ll not delay, given the urgency,” the envoy said, rising swiftly and leaving the room.
“Please, sit, Roshi-san.” Jirocho stood to greet him. “That was the Daimyō’s retainer.”
“The man behind the Hejies family?” Roshi asked.
“Indeed. With Yuuma’s death, that matter is settled.” Jirocho’s tone softened. “Thanks to you, Deai Port has finally been restored.”
He rose, bowed deeply, and touched his forehead to the floor.
“The Wasabi family’s survival is owed entirely to you and your team.”
Then he produced several thick ledgers and set them on the table.
“These are the agreed-upon rewards for your village. It’s of great importance—so I must trouble you and your squad to deliver them safely.”
