Naruto : The System Files

Chapter no.106 Enter Hiruzen Sarutobi

It was barely five in the morning but Hiruzen Sarutobi was already seated in his trusty armchair. It had been a week since the incident, a week since his surrogate grandson had joined the ANBU, and a week since the Sandaime's nights had been longer than five miserable hours. Behind the venerable mahogany desk created out of the Shodaime's mokuton, the Hokage was distractedly preparing his pipe, his eyes lost on the desk's surface. The wooden plate had all the tells of constant use. Each wear and mark had their story. There was a large gash, for example, that Hiruzen remembered had been carved by his sensei the Nidaime, in the only instance he had seen the otherworldly calm Senju angry.

It had been terrifying and Kumo had regretted starting the second shinobi war, even if Tobirama Senju had not come out of it alive.

Right now, the desk was covered with various papers. Not the overwhelming quantity the Sarutobi liked to complain about, he had secretaries after all and the administration served its purpose, but a fair amount of reports were still occupying too much space for the aged Hokage to be content.

Paperwork was not what was truly unsettling the veteran shinobi. While it was an annoyance to review the -mostly excellent- work of competent people he trusted because it was an honest waste of time, the Hokage was not upset because of that.

Hiruzen knew Naruto had visited the Sarutobi compound just yesterday and the blond had insisted on not seeing him. Naruto's shadow clone had been polite. The Hokage sighed and allowed regrets to assault his heart for a second before he put a lid on his emotions. The old man had heard the blond's demand for ramen and jutsu loud and clear but he also knew Naruto likely needed time to work through his feelings.

It did not sit well with Hiruzen to let it happen. He had averted his gaze with his three students in the past, allowing one to become an old teenager with confidence issues, one a gambling, bitter drunk, while the last had betrayed the village and turned missing-nin. He still did refuse to look, not finding within himself the courage to face them.

It was all it amounted to; courage. Courage to acknowledge acts that pointed to a truth no man would be keen to admit. Despite all his strength and qualities, despite all his success, Hiruzen Sarutobi had failed, arguably where it had been most important.

The old man felt like a puppet hung by too many strings, entangled within them. He had never had the courage to face Jiraiya and admit that yes, Orochimaru had been his favorite. He had never been able to face Tsunade and admit that yes, her medic program would have been possible but he did not really believe in it, too trusting of Konoha's traditional superiority to consider warfare changing endeavors. He had never been able to face Orochimaru to tell him it was not his fault Nawaki had died and Tsunade was devastated.

Would it be a repeat of that with Naruto? Was it not already happening? He had weaved lies after lies, refusing to reveal the truth, at first to protect the boy, then for fear of being hated. He had not had the courage to face a twelve years old who had all the reasons in the world to be angry all the while asking from the same boy to find within himself the strength to endure the scorn of his home village.

Hiruzen rubbed his tired eyes.

What had the Nidaime seen in him this fateful night? Had Hiruzen's own boast of being able to ward off the Kumo shinobi been just that? Where was the bravery he had felt coursing his veins then, ready to face certain death so that his precious teammates could escape with their lives?

His sensei had called it the Will of Fire but had it truly been it? Was the philosophy that had guided Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha a glorified rewording of the needs of the few against the needs of the many? Why would the kanji of "Will" be so similar to the kanji for "Shinobi" if that was so simple? The Professor knew full well it was not so.

Why was Hiruzen having an existential crisis this late in his life? It was a moot point now! He had been committed to his various mistakes and he could not solve the mess he had created.

"Naruto-kun," provided a helpful part of his mind.

The sacrifice of each individual person was expected but the village was a whole and it gave back what had been lost or at least endured with you. Why had he allowed for it to be different for Naruto? Had his Will of Fire truly been extinguished?

"That'd be fair. I'm old. I'm ash. I should be the soil from which the young tree draws his strength," thought the Sandaime before he grimaced. If things were like that, why had he allowed for Naruto to live this life? When had he grown complacent to allow the hate to fester and grow?

Naruto had always been welcomed by the Sarutobi clan, Hiruzen had made sure of that but couldn't he have done more?

He had facilitated the good of the many. He had reduced the Will of Fire to a travesty of what it really was. He had accused the villagers of losing their own fire the other day but he had done nothing to rekindle the flames. He had accepted the distrust, the fear, the anger to grow. The simple thought of such a treatment happening to any of his sons, daughters, or grandchildren was chilling and yet, by staying put, he had permitted it to happen to Naruto. Why? How?

A memory he had thought buried jumped to the forefront of his mind. The glazed, mad, fiery red eyes, the bloodlust that had him, The Professor, rooted in place, the powerful swing of a tail, obliterating all that stood under it, the rain of corrosive, ichor-like chakra, the shake of the earth, the brimstones and ashes. The towering form of the Kyuubi, devastating, all-powerful, unstoppable, looming over Konoha like a man would over an insignificant ant-hill.

Hiruzen felt shame and horror well within him and let the unlit pipe fall to the ground as he took his visage within his hands. In spite of all his discourses, had he been just as afraid as his citizens? Why had he allowed Naruto's life to happen? For some petty, misguided need for revenge? Hiruzen refused to look deeper, did not dare to peer into the somber gunk that layered the bottom of his soul.

He feared to discover what reasons had pushed him. He hoped it was resentment fuelled by grief and not something even more callous.

Hiruzen tore himself from his own thoughts, refusing to confront them. Bile rose up his throat. Once again, he lacked the courage to face someone, only this time, it was himself. Haggard, the Hokage's gaze fell on one of the four portraits lining the right wall of the office. It was a color photo of a young man sporting blond, spiky locks, two azure blue eyes, and a light smile on his sharp face. The Hokage Hat was resting on his head.

"Below courage, there is nothing huh, Minato?" The Sandaime whispered to himself, his visage contorted in a grimace of anguish. The old man let out a sigh. "Well seems like you were wrong for once. There are regrets just below."

Hiruzen let his eyes fall back lamely on the desk. The windmill was starting to move again, his time was nigh. Would he depart for the pure lands without ever fixing anything? Would he become a ghost chained to this earth by his remorses? Would he be the first of his line to be denied the honors of joining Son Goku's retinue?

The words of Dragon echoed in his head. "You are a coward."

Hiruzen felt anger replace shame at the thought. He was. In the books, he would be remembered as The Professor but to those who knew him, he would be just that. The Coward. The man who could not bear to fail as he was so accustomed to success.

The man who had manipulated one boy he pretended to see as a grandson in order to ensure loyalty and obedience rather than order the village he had absolute authority over, all because it had been easier.

The old man's fist crashed on the desk and he growled behind clenched teeth, his closed eyes crying bitter, burning tears.

It was time to make things right. It was time for the Coward to disappear so that only the Professor stayed.

A knock at his door informed the Sandaime his first task of the day was beginning shortly. With a rare fire in his eyes, the Professor freshened himself and called for his visitor to enter.