Chapter 149: White Fang, Senju Hashirama, and Nawaki

Watching Kushina and Naruto embrace in tears, Jiraiya stood silently by, a gentle smile on his face.

"But... where's Minato?"

A flicker of doubt crossed Jiraiya's mind.

He pondered for a while. The event of Minato Namikaze using the forbidden Dead Demon Consuming Seal to imprison the Nine-Tails within Konoha wasn't exactly a classified secret.

Thinking of this, a wave of regret welled up in Jiraiya's heart. Yet, amidst the touching scene of reunion, he chose not to disrupt Naruto and Kushina's heartfelt moment.

"Naruto, how old are you now?"

"Twelve!"

"Hatake Sakumo... I used to admire him so much, and yet he did something so disgraceful. What a shame for Konoha!"

"White Fang of Konoha? More like Konoha's disgrace!"

"As shinobi, our missions are more important than our lives!"

"Why did you save me? I was ready to sacrifice myself! You should have completed the mission instead! Why did you save me? This is all your fault!"

"Father, you..."

In the darkness, countless rumors and accusations swirled around him. Even those he had saved blamed him, and his own child looked at him with disappointment.

"Did I really make the wrong choice?"

Sakumo Hatake struggled to open his eyes, finally taking in the world before him.

"Father!"

A familiar figure stood before him, a man calling him "Father."

"Are you... Kakashi?"

After a long pause, Sakumo recognized his son by his white hair and the habit of wearing a mask, which Kakashi had kept since childhood.

Kakashi walked up to him, sitting down beside his father without a word. The two of them sat in silence, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

"Father, will you tell me your story?" Kakashi finally asked, his voice carrying a mix of confusion and longing.

As a child, Kakashi had watched his father fall from the status of a hero of Konoha to a traitor in the eyes of many. He had blindly believed the accusations and criticisms of others, letting them shape his view of his father.

"Is that so? Well, it's quite a long story." Sakumo smiled faintly, the wrinkles on his face shifting with the movement.

Kakashi listened intently, occasionally nodding in agreement or supporting his father's decisions. But when Sakumo spoke of ending his life to bring everything to a close, Kakashi couldn't remain seated.

"Now... I understand why you did it." Kakashi stood abruptly, his calm demeanor replaced by a rare intensity.

"You broke the rules for your comrades, and that makes you my pride."

"I don't know if those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash!"

Kakashi, usually composed, shouted these words with a passion that shook his chest. His labored breaths mirrored the storm of emotions within him.

Sakumo stared wide-eyed, overwhelmed with emotion.

His son... had acknowledged him.

And his son was also a shinobi of Konoha.

After all these years, someone in Konoha finally understood him.

"Thank you, Kakashi."

Sakumo slowly stood, expressing his gratitude. The darkness that had bound his heart for so long shattered in an instant.

White Fang had finally found peace.

"So... even the dead can dream, huh? Heh..."

Sakumo closed his eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. He lifted his hands as if to embrace the true end.

But instead of death, he was met with a warm embrace.

"Father!" Kakashi hugged him tightly from behind.

"Not again! Seriously, who's it this time?"

The moment Hashirama Senju opened his eyes, he clutched his head and crouched down.

He instantly regretted not destroying Tobirama's forbidden jutsu when he had the chance.

"Wait... something feels different."

Hashirama felt the warmth of his hands as they cradled his head. Curious, he placed his palm against his chest and felt the powerful thump of his heart. His mouth fell open in shock.

"I'm alive!"

Could it be that Tobirama and Madara had reconciled, taken over the world, and resurrected him?

Hashirama scratched his head, utterly baffled.

Just then, the silence beside him broke as a young voice finally spoke.

"Excuse me... are you my grandfather?"

Nawaki felt entirely out of place. He distinctly remembered dying, stepping into an explosive tag trap due to his carelessness.

He could only imagine how devastated his sister and Orochimaru-sensei must have been when they learned of his death.

One moment, everything went dark, and the next, he awoke to see someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to his grandfather.

The First Hokage, Senju Hashirama—the God of Shinobi—was his grandfather. But Nawaki had only ever heard fragmented stories from Tsunade and the villagers.

"Is this... the afterlife?" Nawaki's eyes widened, his jaw dropping so far it could fit an egg.

"Whose kid are you?"

Hashirama finally noticed the child and was stunned when the boy called him "grandfather."

"Listen, kid. I might be a grandfather, but I only have one granddaughter, and she's old enough to be your grandma, hahaha!"

Hashirama bent down and patted Nawaki's head, laughing heartily.

"Grandfather, I'm Nawaki! My sister is Tsunade!"

Nawaki jumped up, and when his height failed him, he simply hugged Hashirama's waist.

"Now that you mention it... I do remember my daughter-in-law was pregnant and planning to name the baby Nawaki if it was a boy," Hashirama muttered, rubbing his chin.

"But the last time I saw Tsunade, she was over fifty. How could Nawaki still be a child—wait!"

Hashirama froze mid-sentence, his smile fading abruptly. He scooped Nawaki up in his arms.

"Nawaki, you... died?"

"Grandfather, I... I stepped on an explosive tag during the Second Shinobi War." Nawaki lowered his head.

Before going to the battlefield, his sister had repeatedly warned him to be cautious, and Orochimaru-sensei had advised him never to underestimate his enemy. He had ignored it all. What a fool he had been.

"An explosive tag... killed you?" Hashirama was dumbfounded.

Hearing Nawaki mention the Second Shinobi War, Hashirama's face darkened.

His brother and grandson had both perished in shinobi wars. Last time he spoke with Tobirama, he'd learned there had been three wars in total, claiming countless lives.

The very system they had created to protect the next generation had strayed far from the ideals he and Madara had envisioned.

Perhaps Tobirama had been right after all.

If only Madara could let go of their past grudges...

"Nawaki, Grandfather!"

"Hashirama!"

"Brother."

As Hashirama sank into his thoughts, three distinct voices called out to him...

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