Chapter 313 - 313: 313 - Why me...? Why not me...?

With Itachi's birthday behind them, it also meant there was now less than a week left before the official opening of the Ninja Village Joint Conference.

When Roshi stepped into the bureau, he immediately noticed the difference. The lobby was far more crowded than during his last visit; the number of people had at least doubled.

Shinobi wearing forehead protectors from various villages hurried past, moving with the focused urgency of people who all had somewhere important to be.

He headed deeper inside.

Kakashi's office door was wide open.

Kakashi stood behind his desk, a document marked with a bright red "Urgent" stamp in his hand, speaking quickly with two shinobi wearing Kusagakure forehead protectors.

When they finally left, Roshi entered the office. Not wanting to interrupt Kakashi, who had already lowered his head and was rapidly jotting down notes, Roshi went straight to the sofa by the window and sat down.

Over the next half hour, people kept coming and going. New arrivals replaced the old ones until, eventually, no one else was waiting.

Only then did the silver-haired jonin glance at his schedule, close it, and walk over to shut the door.

The soft click of the lock sounded unusually loud in the quiet office.

Kakashi returned to his desk and practically collapsed into the large leather chair, sinking deep into it. He tilted his head back, resting it against the top of the chair, and let out a long, slow breath.

"At times like this," Kakashi said, eyes closed, "you realize just how important a good chair is."

"Want to run an ad? I'm sure there'd be sponsors interested." 'The same office chair used by the head of the Joint Training Affairs Bureau, boosting your ninja career'—sounds pretty good," Roshi said.

"Forget it. Getting photographed would just make things more troublesome. If you're looking for Itachi, he's out coordinating temporary housing for the participating ninja villages."

Kakashi opened his eyes and glanced sideways at him.

"If you're here for me, you'd better be bringing news that 'new reinforcements are coming.'"

Roshi shifted into a more comfortable position, resting one elbow on the armrest of the sofa. "Shikaku's son is a good candidate."

Kakashi thought for a moment. "Isn't he only eight?"

"Yeah, so you'll have to wait a bit longer. The rest of the usable people are also needed by the Administrative Department. Training people takes time," Roshi said.

"There aren't many ninja who are good at paperwork to begin with, and if they're going to work in a place like here, their ninja skills can't be too subpar either. Screening takes time, and the handovers take even more."

Getting no good news, Kakashi pulled a neat booklet from the pile of documents on his desk and slid it toward the edge.

"This is the latest list and basic information on the participating ninja villages. Except for Yugakure, all registered ninja villages around the Land of Fire have confirmed their attendance."

Roshi stood, took the booklet, and flipped it open.

His gaze stopped on the entry for the Village Hidden in Sound.

Kakashi had already guessed what the contents would be. He said, "The Village Hidden in Sound officially submitted their application to the bureau three days ago. According to your proposal, any village willing to participate is allowed to join."

Roshi didn't argue. Instead, he asked, "What are your thoughts?"

Calm as ever, Kakashi replied, "Based on our observations over the past year, all the ANBU reports point to the same conclusion: the Fūma Clan, currently operating under the name Village Hidden in Sound, has a very clear goal—to secure a foothold in the Land of Rice Fields and find space for their own survival."

"Even if they really do have ties to Orochimaru, whether they're trying to revive their clan or simply survive, bringing them into the joint system will actually make them easier to monitor—and easier to draw over to our side in the future."

"After all, compared to vague promises, concrete mission commissions, a stable source of income, and the protection guaranteed by the Five Great Ninja Villages are far more tempting to a small ninja clan."

Roshi nodded and set the booklet back on the desk.

"We'll do as you say. Just keep them under routine observation during the conference; there's no need for special scrutiny. If they truly are just an ordinary ninja clan looking to survive… then the joint system should have a place for them."

"Understood."

Kakashi slid another file across the desk. This one had a yellow tag on the cover labeled "Yugakure—Supplementary Intelligence."

"As for Yugakure," he said, "this is their latest reply, including preliminary information on that rogue ninja."

Roshi opened the folder. The first page was a handwritten letter from the leader of Yugakure, respectful and tactful, the brushstrokes as neat as a calligraphy practice sheet.

In essence, it said, "I did not wish to trouble you with such trivial matters, but the situation does indeed risk worsening," followed by a polite request: "If it is convenient for you, could you provide appropriate guidance and assistance?"

The intelligence on the rogue ninja began on the second page.

'Hidan…' Roshi finished reading, closed the file, and looked up. "If this is all, then the intelligence provided by Yugakure is incomplete—or rather, they themselves might not fully understand how dangerous this rogue ninja is."

Kakashi's eyebrow lifted slightly. "What do you mean?"

"He should also possess physical immortality."

"Conventional fatal injuries—damage to internal organs, blood loss—are useless. Only by inflicting structural damage to his limbs can you restrict his movements."

"Furthermore, the technique system of the Jashin Cult includes a ritual-type ninjutsu. By obtaining the opponent's blood, he can place a curse on them through self-inflicted injury."

"It has to be performed within a specific formation."

Kakashi gave him a flat look. "Where do you even get this intel… never mind, you always have your ways."

"Do we grant the request for reinforcements?"

"Yes," Roshi said. "Yugakure is a textbook example of a shinobi village that's successfully made the transition. Having that kind of template will be useful for the future."

"As for their little schemes… aside from testing the response time of the Bureau, they probably want to use us to quickly calm the unrest from the rogue ninja incident."

"After all, in the current situation, the reputation of their hot springs alone can't fully make up for how much tourists doubt their security."

"Once the joint team is sent over, whether they actually catch the culprit or not, Yugakure can still announce to the public that 'peace has been restored to Yugakure.' That's critical for their tourism industry."

Kakashi nodded and added another line at the bottom of the note: "Publicity coordination — Peace Restoration Statement."

"Understood. I'll pull personnel from the ANBU squads currently on leave and put together a deployment plan this afternoon."

"Mm," Roshi rose to his feet. "By the way, about the intel on Hidan—especially that 'immortality' of his and the traits of his curse technique—release it directly to the public. Have it added to the routine security bulletins for the other participating villages as well."

"After all, he's the kind of troublesome opponent who catches people off guard if they're not careful. There's no point in hiding it."

"I'll notify the Intelligence Division," Kakashi replied.

—

Roshi stepped out of Kakashi's office and had barely shut the door when a figure blurred to a stop in front of him.

Anko stood there with her hands on her hips, chin lifted, glaring up at him.

"Captain, you never told me I'd be this busy before you dragged me over here."

"Didn't Jiraiya-sama come to help?"

"It's not any easier at all!" Anko jabbed a finger at him. "Just being called an assistant isn't enough; it's completely useless."

"Anyone who shows up can boss 'Anko' around."

She grew more worked up as she spoke. "Even with the title 'Assistant Anko,' it doesn't make the job any more pleasant."

"They still say, 'Assistant Anko, if you could please—'"

Roshi waited patiently for her to vent, then lifted his hand and flicked her forehead with his knuckle.

Thump.

The sound was sharp and clear.

"Ow!" Anko grabbed her forehead and hopped back a step, eyes going even wider. "You actually hit me!"

"Itachi and I have been working like pack animals for ages," Roshi said evenly, "while you've been resting forever. So don't complain."

Anko opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Roshi went on:

"You'll thank me decades from now."

"Thank you for what?"

"Thank yourself for not spending all your time idle with zero exercise—ending up with loose muscles, a slower metabolism, fat piling on, and eventually turning into a happy little sweet potato."

"You always say that…" she grumbled under her breath. "I'd rather turn into a sweet potato. At least a sweet potato doesn't get ordered around every day."

Despite all her grumbling, she eventually turned and trudged toward the testing room, feet dragging. After a few paces, she glanced back.

Roshi was still standing where she'd left him, lifting a hand in a casual wave.

Anko curled her lip in annoyance, but she did turn around again. Her deep purple ponytail flicked once at the corner of the hallway before disappearing from sight.

The bustle inside the Joint Affairs Bureau had a clear hierarchy.

The Konoha office was by far the busiest.

As host and system architect, every part of the operation flowed through it—from meeting agendas to security coordination, from resource allocation to contingency planning. All the chains of command eventually converged there.

The people moving fastest in the corridors, with the tallest stacks of documents and the darkest circles under their eyes, were almost all shinobi wearing Leaf forehead protectors.

Second place, however, did not belong to Kumogakure.

Even though the Hidden Cloud Village was the second most important player in this framework, much of its work overlapped with Konoha's.

There were very few matters Konoha couldn't handle that truly required Kumogakure to step in.

The Hidden Steam and Hidden Frost Villages, wedged between Konoha and Kumogakure, had always been relatively quiet.

Instead, it was the Hidden Sand Village that kept getting drawn into various operations—whether it was the projects in the Land of Wind and Land of Rain launched months earlier, the joint fleet investment plan between Sunagakure, Konoha, and Kumogakure, or the training programs for the other Four Great Shinobi Villages run by Sunagakure's aerial units.

All of it required Baki, as Sunagakure's representative, to travel constantly between the villages.

Only after the attack on the Seven-Tails and the disappearance of the Four-Tails did the presence of Iwagakure, Kumogakure, and the Hidden Mist begin to intensify.

At the same time, the line in front of the Sunagakure office grew shorter.

The Sunagakure-related projects—engineering work, the fleet, the training—had all reached the point where they could mostly run themselves. Documents still arrived, but they were largely progress updates and routine confirmations, not fresh terms that needed all-night negotiations.

As for the new issues—"Jinchuriki security," "Tailed Beast protection," "joint defense"… Sunagakure currently had nothing others were desperate to seize.

Its only real target, the Ichibi Jinchuriki, was in Konoha. In this suddenly heating-up game, Sunagakure had lost its bargaining chip and, at the same time, avoided the eye of the storm.

Attacks, protection, emergency response… There were other villages far more anxious about those.

Iwagakure had lost the Four-Tails, and both Kumogakure and the Hidden Mist each had two Tailed Beasts to protect. They would naturally be the ones pushing hardest for solutions.

Sunagakure only needed to go along.

Standing at the entrance of the affairs bureau building, Baki found the thought brought him a strange sense of relief. Sunagakure—always at the heart of conflict, constantly at war or used as someone else's pawn—had, without anyone quite noticing, shifted into a supporting role.

At least for now, Konoha really had pulled Sunagakure out of the first wave of potential targets.

Footsteps approached from behind.

Baki turned his head and saw Roshi stepping out of the building.

The black-haired guy spotted him, slowed his pace a little, and nodded.

"Baki."

"Roshi."

Baki gave a slight bow, then fell in step behind him.

"I would like to enter the Hokage building."

As Sunagakure's representative, getting into Hokage building had always been straightforward. Even now, it wasn't truly difficult.

But he brought it up specifically because he didn't just want to enter Konoha—he wanted to see Gaara.

Before the incident, that would've been no problem at all. Gaara might be Sunagakure's Ichibi Jinchuriki and Baki the official assigned to Konoha, but it was only natural for a guardian to visit his charge.

Now, things were different.

"The Village has requested that I confirm Gaara's condition," he said.

"Let's go," Roshi replied.

No follow-up questions. No suspicion. Not even a request for written authorization.

Baki froze for half a heartbeat, then quickly matched Roshi's pace.

With Roshi leading, the procedures for entering Konoha became much simpler.

Even as they headed toward the Ninja Academy, not a single Anbu intercepted them.

By the time the Academy's outer wall came into view, the afternoon combat training class was already underway.

From the practice field, the voices of the instructor and the children carried clearly through the air.

Baki followed Roshi up the open-air stairway along the side of the building and stopped at the far end of the third-floor corridor. From there, he had a clear view over the entire training ground.

Around twenty to thirty students were sparring below. Most were paired off, while a few three-man teams were practicing coordination drills.

Baki's eyes found the red-haired boy almost immediately.

Gaara was practicing taijutsu with Uzumaki Naruto.

There was no sand. Neither of them used ninjutsu—just a straightforward exchange of punches and kicks.

What drew Baki's attention even more was the feel of the interaction between them.

Naruto overextended on a punch and stumbled. Gaara didn't seize the opening; he stepped back half a pace and waited for Naruto to steady himself.

In the next exchange, Naruto managed to block Gaara's straight punch with his elbow and shouted something in excitement. Gaara gave the slightest of nods in response.

Sweat trickled down their temples, catching the sunlight.

Both boys were coated in dust; Naruto's blond hair was a wild mess, and Gaara's short hair was damp and clinging to his cheeks.

But they were alive. Not just "not dead," but alive in a way that was almost palpable—muscles moving, blood surging, minds focused and fully engaged.

Baki watched in silence.

"Gaara… actually found a friend."

He spoke very softly, but Roshi heard him. Roshi didn't answer. He simply rested a hand on the corridor railing, eyes never leaving the field below.

At that moment, Iruka, who was overseeing the training, walked over and said something to Gaara.

The red-haired boy stopped, motioned to Naruto, then turned away from the training field and headed toward the academy building.

On the other side of the playground, Sasuke had just finished a round of kicks against the wooden post.

He no longer felt like fooling around with his classmates. Instead, he used the regular combat class to digest everything he'd learned in the Special Training Class.

Might Guy's Taijutsu guidance was terrifyingly effective. Sasuke could feel his muscle memory reshaping, the way he generated and transferred power subtly changing with each strike.

But he wasn't the only one improving.

His gaze shifted toward the area where Naruto and Gaara were sparring—just in time to see Gaara stop and head toward the school building.

Sasuke's eyes followed the red-haired boy as he climbed the stairs and disappeared at the far end of the third-floor corridor.

With his sharp vision, Sasuke could clearly make out the two figures waiting there.

One looked like a Sunagakure ninja. The other was Roshi.

Gaara was going to meet them.

The conversation at last night's dinner replayed in Sasuke's mind—his father's calm words, his brother's half-finished attempt at comfort.

He shouldn't have treated his brother like that.

But if his own physical foundation still wasn't good enough, then what did that say about Gaara, whose Taijutsu was even worse?

Sasuke started walking.

He wanted to ask why he wasn't enough.

Where was he falling short? Why, even after being acknowledged, was a new distance opening up between them without his noticing it?

He had only taken five steps when he suddenly stopped.

Up on the school building, Roshi seemed to glance down.

Sasuke's feet froze.

'Roshi-san saw me.'

If he rushed up there now, demanding answers like a child throwing a tantrum over candy… Would Roshi look at him the same way his father did—calm, faultless disappointment?

Sasuke stared at the figures on the third-floor corridor, watching Gaara walk up to them, watching Roshi reach out and lightly pat the red-haired boy on the shoulder.

Then he turned around.

He walked back to the edge of the training field, faced the wooden post again, and took his stance.

Thud!

His kick landed squarely on the center of the post. The dull thud made a few nearby students look over, but he ignored them.

He drove his fists and feet into the wood again and again, pouring every tangled emotion into that unresponsive target.

Sweat quickly soaked through his shirt. His breathing grew ragged, his muscles burned—but he didn't stop.

He couldn't stop.

If he couldn't even endure this level of training, what right did he have to ask, "Why wasn't it me?"

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