Smoke and dust swirled in the ruined stadium.
Orochimaru staggered backward, clutching his arms, or rather, the lifeless dead weight that hung from his shoulders.
No chakra flowed. No strength obeyed his will.
The Dead Demon Consuming Seal had been incomplete… but still, it had crippled him.
"You… damn you, Sarutobi-sensei!" Orochimaru snarled, his face twisted with pure hatred.
Blood dripped from his mouth as he fell to one knee.
"You dared… to sever my soul…" he hissed, spitting on the cracked tiles where Hiruzen's lifeless body still lay.
"You old fool! You destroyed more than you ever protected!"
The barrier of purple chakra surrounding the rooftop flickered. The Four Violet Flames Formation trembled as its users, the Sound Four finally weakened under the pressure of the Leaf's counterattack.
With a crack, the barrier shattered.
In an instant, the Sound Four sprang into action.
"Lord Orochimaru!" Kidōmaru shouted, appearing in a blur beside him.
"His body's wrecked. We need to retreat, fast!" barked Sakon, scanning the roof nervously for incoming enemies.
The Four formed a defensive diamond around their master, their cursed seals burning across their skin as they enhanced their speed and strength.
Jirōbō slammed his hands into the ground, erecting a massive stone dome to block the incoming projectiles from Konoha's ninja.
Tayuya cursed under her breath, drawing her flute, but Orochimaru shook his head weakly.
"No… there's no time for a counterattack… Get me out of here!"
Without hesitation, the Sound Four grabbed him.
Kidōmaru wove a massive web of chakra threads, hoisting Orochimaru's broken body between them like a cocoon.
They moved, blurring with unnatural speed.
Through the shattered streets.
Past the scattered remnants of Konoha's defenses.
Kakashi, Anko, and the other jonin were too busy coordinating the counterattack and protecting civilians to immediately chase them.
Still, Orochimaru could feel the furious chakra signatures chasing faintly behind them.
He gritted his teeth, feeling the emptiness in his arms.
"I'll make you regret this, Sarutobi-sensei," Orochimaru vowed darkly as the village receded into the distance.
"Even from the grave, you want to haunt me."
The wind howled around him as they vanished into the forests surrounding Konoha.
The Snake retreated, broken, humiliated, but alive.
And in the pit of his heart, his hatred for Konoha burned hotter than ever.
The sun barely rose over Konoha the morning after the invasion.
The once-proud village lay wounded. Buildings were shattered, and smoke still rose faintly from the hospital and administrative blocks. Citizens wandered through the ruins, tending to wounded friends, mourning loved ones, and trying to understand how they had survived at all.
Amid it all, one man moved with authority, though no formal title had been given.
Kakashi Hatake, silent, composed issued orders, reorganized defenses, and restored the order of the village.
Not by decree, nor by force.
But by the natural gravity, he now carried.
The jonin, the chuunin, and the exhausted Anbu followed him without hesitation.
It was unconscious, unspoken… but everyone had accepted Kakashi as the central figure now.
Even the elder ninja who usually ran the logistics like Nara Shikaku and Aburame Shibi began turning toward him for the final word.
In the ruined remains of the Hokage Tower, an urgent meeting took place.
Shikaku, with his arms folded, leaned against a scorched pillar, watching Kakashi coordinate the rebuilding of the hospital prioritization lists, evacuation shelters, and food distribution.
"You're a natural, Kakashi," he muttered under his breath.
One of the Anbu landed nearby, panting slightly. His white mask was cracked.
"Report," Kakashi said simply.
The Anbu saluted. "We found evidence. The elders… Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane. They're gone, sir."
Kakashi's eyes darkened a fraction. He already knew the truth, his shadow clone had erased those rotten roots but he kept his face neutral.
"Unknown. No bodies. No chakra signatures," the Anbu answered grimly. "We believe foul play, but… no evidence."
Shikaku raised an eyebrow and glanced sideways at Kakashi, who merely nodded.
"Prioritize civilian safety. Keep this information contained," Kakashi ordered.
The Anbu bowed and vanished into the smoke.
That afternoon, black banners were raised across the village.
The funeral for Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, was to be held the next morning, a day of mourning for the entire Land of Fire.
Shikaku found Kakashi again as they watched volunteers build a great wooden pyre at the center of Memorial Stone Field.
"The arrangements are in place," Shikaku said quietly.
Kakashi nodded. His hands were folded behind his back, posture like a soldier at rest, but his chakra pulsed steadily and strongly.
"Kurenai, Anko, Asuma, and the others are helping the civilians," Shikaku continued. "You don't have to handle everything yourself."
"I'm not," Kakashi said simply. "Everyone is doing what they can. That's enough."
"You really have changed," Shikaku said after a long pause, his voice almost admiring.
The silver-haired Jonin didn't answer, but a faint smile curved his lips.
The next morning, under an iron sky, the village gathered.
A sea of black robes.Somber faces.
Tears shed from the faces of every ninja.
The Fire Daimyo stood with a small entourage, paying his respects. Behind him, the jonin of Konoha formed a silent line, Kurenai, Guy, Anko, Genma, Asuma, and others.
The younger generation, Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Shikamaru, Ino, Kiba, and the others, all stood together with their heads bowed.
A gentle breeze stirred the white cloth draped over the Third Hokage's coffin.
Orange flames rose to the heavens, crackling as the body of Hiruzen Sarutobi was returned to the elements.
Kakashi and Shikaku stood at the forefront, overseeing everything, their expressions grave.