Chương 116: Lord Hokage, Spare Me Your Radiant Aura

In truth, there was no need to wait for Hiruzen Sarutobi to reach an epiphany. Minato Namikaze was slated for a light-speed exit from the stage of history. Soon enough, the old codger would reclaim his throne, and Konoha's trajectory would revert to its well-worn, stagnant grooves. The only real change would be the plight of the Uchiha. In the wake of the upcoming disaster, their standing in the village would plummet, finding themselves further marginalized by the high command than ever before.

Which brought his thoughts to the Nine-Tails' Night. It was now the 51st Year of Konoha. Naruto Uzumaki was likely in the midst of his first joyous cell divisions within his mother's womb. This meant that Minato Namikaze had ten months left. The sands of time were running dangerously thin. Megumi Dongye had never been fond of her husband and son dissecting such heavy matters. Her maternal instincts sensed a faint, lurking peril in these conversations.

Back when Jiro was a mere Chunin, he'd spend his nights drinking with Sakei Uzuki and grumbling about the state of the world, but back then, they were nobodies. Their words carried no weight beyond the bottom of a bottle. Even during the fallout of Sakumo Hatake's suicide, their chatter had been lost in a sea of similar whispers. But Jiro was a Jonin now. Every word he uttered was a reflection of the family's stance, and discussing the friction between the current and former Hokage was walking on a razor's edge.

It left her feeling profoundly unsettled. She leveled a sharp glare at the two men.

"That's enough. Eat your dinner. I don't want to hear another word about this." Sensing the imminent eruption of the household volcano, father and son simultaneously buried their faces in their rice bowls. While the tight-knit coalition of the Dongye, Gekko, and Uzuki families was increasingly viewed as a faction aligned with the Fourth, Jiro wasn't overly concerned about their future. In the Shinobi World, strength was the only currency that truly mattered.

As long as his son continued his meteoric rise, and as long as they maintained their core of Jonin, no Hokage could afford to ignore them. Jiro's mood brightened considerably at the thought. As the meal drew to a close, he spoke up.

"Oh, by the way, Megumi—we're having a group dinner at the Uzuki house tomorrow night. Don't bother cooking after work; just head straight there."

"Understood." Zhen looked up, curious.

"Is it a special occasion, Father?"

"You'll see when you get there." Jiro was playing it uncharacteristically close to the vest. The following evening, after concluding his afternoon training, Zhen returned home to wash up and change into a fresh set of clothes before heading to the Uzuki residence. Within the village walls, Zhen rarely wasted chakra on his active sensory pulse. His passive perception was more than enough to guard against an ambush, and while its range was limited, it sufficed for daily life.

However, as he approached the Uzuki gate, his senses were suddenly hammered by a colossal chakra signature. It was a magnitude that dwarfed every shinobi he had ever encountered. Accompanying this massive pool was a second, even more formidable source—an ocean of power that was abyssal, ancient, and violently volatile. It was no wonder his father had been so mysterious. They had a guest of the highest order.

Having lived in Konoha for a decade and possessing the senses he did, Zhen knew exactly whose signatures those were. Who else could they belong to but Kushina Uzumaki and the Nine-Tailed Fox sealed within her? The Uzumaki bloodline was truly a freak of nature; her base reserves alone were staggering. It remained one of the great mysteries of the Shinobi World how such a powerhouse clan—and their hidden village—had been wiped off the map. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen.

Report the violation. As Zhen reached the gate, his keen ears picked up the boisterous chatter from the courtyard. One female voice, in particular, rose above the rest, loud and endearingly brash.

"Wow! That's amazing! I didn't know you could get the tempura that golden just by changing the batter, you know?!"

"It's not just the color, Kushina," Sakura Uzuki's voice replied warmly.

"It makes the texture much crispier. Here, try a piece."

"Really? Don't mind if I do, you know!" When Zhen pushed open the gate, he found the entire extended group gathered. The guests of honor were indeed the Fourth Hokage and his wife. Long tables had been set out in the yard. The men were huddled together in conversation while the women prepared a lavish feast. In a far corner sat young Shigeru Uzuki, looking uncharacteristically well-behaved. He looked like a small quail being eyed by an eagle, desperately trying to achieve total invisibility.

For an Academy student, the Hokage wasn't just a leader; he was a figure of existential dread—a level of authority so high it felt like a physical weight. Zhen stepped forward and bowed.

"Lord Hokage." Minato Namikaze offered a warm, radiant smile.

"You're back, Zhen. And please, there's no need for the formalities. Just call me what you used to."

"Understood, Senior Minato."

"Better!" Minato seemed genuinely pleased. He had clearly been waiting for Zhen's arrival before steering the conversation toward its true purpose. He turned back to Unami Gekko.

"Senior Unami, you have a history with the Anbu and understand the nuances of the work. I want your help in forming my new Anbu corps." The Anbu—the Hokage's hidden hand—was a fluid organization. Members didn't spend their entire lives in the shadows; there was a constant cycle of veterans retiring and fresh blood being recruited to keep the ranks replenished. With a new Hokage in office, it was only natural for him to build a force that answered directly to him.

The units originally loyal to the Third would gradually be phased back into the regular shinobi roster. Hiruzen himself had encouraged this transition, signaling his intent to step back from the center of power. However, the web of political interests surrounding the old man was vast, and his growing indecision with age only served to drag out the process. Unami Gekko was clearly intrigued. Helping the new Hokage build his secret service was a fast track to the inner circle.

If he played his cards right, he could end up as the Commander of the Anbu—a massive boon for the Gekko clan. However, he looked at his three students with a touch of hesitation.

"Lord Hokage, I am still an active Jonin instructor. I'm not sure I can spare the time."

"I've already considered that," Minato said smoothly.

"My plan is to bring your entire squad into the Anbu. Specifically, I want Zhen, Hayate, and Yugao to join my Personal Guard." The hearts of Unami, Sakei, and Jiro all skipped a beat. Even Sakei's breathing grew heavy. The Hokage's Personal Guard was technically a subset of the Anbu, but with a crucial distinction: they were the Hokage's constant shadows. They received direct tutelage from the Kage himself. It was a position for "disciples" in all but name—a breeding ground for future leaders.

Had the original Team 7 remained intact, Kakashi, Obito, and Rin would have been the natural choices. But with two dead and Kakashi drowning in his own darkness, the spots were open. Though even if the others were still around, a talent like Zhen Dongye was something no Hokage would ever pass up. The three Jonin exchanged glances. They were desperate to say yes, but they knew Zhen. If the boy didn't want it, no amount of parental pressure would move him.

Not that they could force him anyway—the kid was already stronger than they were, a fact that was as impressive as it was frustrating. Jiro cleared his throat.

"Lord Hokage, we appreciate the honor you're showing our children. However, the choice must be theirs. As parents, we won't force their hands." Unami and Sakei immediately shot their children "if you say no, you're grounded for life" looks. But their children were singularly focused.

"If Zhen goes, I'll go," Hayate Gekko said simply.

"I'm with Zhen," Yugao Uzuki added without a second thought. Sakei Uzuki sighed inwardly. My daughter is a lost cause. Her loyalty is so compromised her elbows are probably pointing toward the Land of Snow. What's the point of raising a child if she just follows the first boy who beats her in a spar? Minato turned his sun-bright smile toward the boy at the center of the storm.

"It seems you have an enviable bond with your team. So, Zhen, what do you say?" Too bright. The charisma is actually blinding, Zhen thought, squinting mentally. Senior Minato, you must have been an Ultraman in your past life. Please, spare me your radiant aura. Zhen took a moment to weigh the offer.

"Senior Minato, give me a little time to think it over. I'll have an answer for you by the time we finish dinner."

"Of course, Zhen. I'll be waiting." If it had been any other Hokage, an invitation to the Personal Guard would have been met with an immediate, groveling 'yes.' To ask for time was a borderline insult. But Minato was the "Yellow Flash"—gracious, patient, and genuinely fond of the boy. More importantly, Zhen was strong. And in this world, the strong are allowed a certain degree of self-indulgence.