The battlefield was tense, yet Kurenai's determined thoughts echoed in her mind. "Even if my opponent is Tsunade-sama, I'm giving it everything I've got!" she vowed, her eyes alight with fierce resolve. Memories of her past—the sacrifice of her parents in the Nine-Tails' attack—cast a shadow over her heart. Growing up alone in a chaotic world, she had carried her burdens in silence.
Everything changed on that fateful day. Surrounded and outnumbered by enemy ninjas, she clutched vital intel she'd risked everything to obtain, steeling herself for what seemed like the end. Then, out of nowhere, he appeared. Gojo strolled in, casually dispatching her attackers with a wave as if the entire ordeal was beneath him. From that moment, his insufferable cockiness became strangely endearing. To Kurenai, he wasn't just a skilled ninja—he was her hero, though she'd never admit it aloud. Even if he had a soft spot for Tsunade, she wasn't about to let that hold her back.
"Sure, Tsunade-sama may have a perfect figure," she muttered, eyeing her reflection. "But at least I'm younger!"
On the sidelines, Asuma Sarutobi sighed, taking a long drag from his cigarette. Watching Kurenai's wistful gaze at Gojo stung in a way he couldn't quite place. He'd considered approaching her, maybe offering a few encouraging words, but seeing her expression, he shook his head and muttered, "Guess I'll just focus on… I don't know, my dad's safety or something."
Meanwhile, Might Guy was oblivious to the drama, his blinding smile firmly in place as he observed the scene. "So, Gojo really has five kids with Tsunade-sama, huh?" he mused, thoroughly awestruck.
Kurenai's patience snapped. She turned and cast a shadowed glare in his direction, her usual gentle smile nowhere in sight. "Guy," she said, her voice low and tight-lipped, "not the time."
Guy, undeterred, nodded solemnly. "Ah, you're right, Kurenai! But imagine! A battle between my students and Gojo's kids—ah, the competition of youth would be magnificent!"
Kurenai shook her head and muttered to herself as she walked away. "Hopeless," she whispered, glancing back as Guy continued his impassioned declarations of youth, adding that women were merely distractions from his "true calling."
Within the barrier, Tobirama glared at Gojo, who was munching on a dango, observing the battle with amused detachment. "You," Tobirama muttered through the haze of his fading consciousness, "why don't you use your strength to break the barrier? You could end this entire battle!"
Gojo blinked, a half-chewed piece of dango in his mouth, and feigned innocence. "Break the barrier?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nah, I'm just your average ninja."
A beat of silence passed as Tobirama processed the audacity. "If Gojo is 'average,'" he grumbled, "then I'm a part-time carpenter."
Nearby, Hiruzen Sarutobi, bleeding and exhausted, looked up at Gojo with weary, resolute eyes. "Gojo… let me give you some advice," he began, his voice a mix of respect and frustration.
Gojo rolled his eyes, already bracing for another lecture. "Oh boy, here we go."
"You bear great strength. If you're protecting something, protect it with everything you have," Hiruzen said. "That's the true purpose of power."
Gojo shrugged, unimpressed. "Nice sentiment, but power means nothing if you let your enemies walk all over you. You're the Third Hokage. You should be carrying the village on your shoulders without hesitation."
Sarutobi clenched his fists, Gojo's words cutting deeper than any wound. Memories of Minato's final words about bearing the village's fate echoed in his mind. "Yes… that's what the Will of Fire is," he thought, the weight of responsibility pressing down harder than ever.
A sneering voice interrupted his thoughts. "If you'd just made me Hokage, this village wouldn't be in such a sorry state," Orochimaru taunted, his neck stretching unnaturally as he drove the Kusanagi blade into Hiruzen's abdomen.
"You… will never be Hokage, Orochimaru," Hiruzen gasped, tightening his grip on his staff as he struggled to stay upright. The sight of Orochimaru, his once-promising student, was a painful reminder of how far things had fallen.
"Too soft," Orochimaru sneered, landing a cruel kick that sent Hiruzen sprawling.
Gojo watched, bemused, snapping a picture with a small camera he'd pulled out. "Oh, this is too good," he muttered, thoroughly unimpressed. "A Third Hokage who lectures about strength and then lets his old student walk all over him."
Outside the barrier, Kurenai's frustration had simmered into disbelief. "Five kids with Tsunade?" she mumbled, looking somewhat defeated.
Guy leaned over, still brimming with enthusiasm. "It's true, Kurenai! Imagine the genius! Gojo's kids must be prodigies! Perhaps Lee could spar with them someday and—ah, the beauty of youth!"
"Guy," Kurenai growled, "stop. Talking." She walked off to regain her composure, vowing not to get roped into any more of his delusional fantasies.
High above, Gojo remained relaxed, tossing a final parting shot down to the battlefield. "Old man," he called to Hiruzen, "if you're going to let Orochimaru waltz all over you, maybe take some notes from the First Hokage here. His 'Will of Fire' actually meant something."
The words struck Sarutobi harder than any attack as Gojo leaned back, looking as invested as someone flipping through TV channels.