Chapter 31: Promotion

Chapter 31: Promotion

A few days later, Hayama received his promotion orders in the Leaf camp's command center. After the ANBU member who delivered the orders had left, Hayama handed the scroll to Sakumo Hatake with a peculiar smile on his face.

Sakumo glanced through the scroll and, upon understanding its contents, tossed it onto his desk. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

After a moment's thought, Sakumo clapped his hands. An ANBU member cloaked in a long cape appeared, swiftly forming a sequence of hand signs to erect a soundproof barrier.

"What's your take on this?" Sakumo asked.

Hayama, his eyebrows furrowed, tapped his thigh rhythmically. "It's obvious. The higher-ups are questioning your motives. That's why they're considering promoting me to jōnin."

"My motives?"

"Your motives for teaching me certain techniques."

Unimpressed, Sakumo waved off Hayama's indirect answer, urging him to speak plainly and stop wasting his time.

Hayama couldn't help but sigh. While Sakumo was undoubtedly a powerful shinobi, his grasp of political subtleties wasn't particularly sharp. The man's approach had always been straightforward: cut first, talk later. As a result, he was often oblivious to the nuances of Konoha's political intrigues.

The timing of this promotion order was suspicious. It wasn't coincidental that Hayama was only now being considered for a higher rank, right after demonstrating a technique taught by Sakumo. There had to be an underlying motive. Delving deeper, Hayama came to a conclusion that seemed too pointed to ignore.

"Uchiha," Hayama said succinctly.

At that, Sakumo shook his head, dismissing Hayama's conjecture. Then, to Hayama's astonishment, he spoke words that revealed a much deeper layer of the situation.

"Hayama, I understand what you're thinking. You climbed your way up from the bottom, and you see us clan shinobi as self-serving. But let me be clear: I taught you those techniques not because of any deal or ulterior motive, but because I see a younger version of myself in you. I taught you because I wanted to pass on what I know, not to manipulate you or treat you as a tool."

Sakumo continued, cutting off Hayama's attempt to interject. "When a shinobi's heart is consumed by resentment, that resentment breeds a thirst for revenge. If left unchecked, it can turn into a driving force that leads to unchecked violence. This isn't just theory—it's a danger we've seen time and again."

Hayama listened intently, his thoughts a whirlwind of past experiences. Since arriving in this world, he had indeed carried a deep-seated bitterness. He resented his humble origins, the endless war, and the calculated cruelty of Konoha's leadership. Beyond his own mother, he trusted no one. He couldn't even remember when he'd begun to close himself off. Was it the first time he took another's life, or when he held a comrade's lifeless body? Maybe it was when he chose survival over his own sense of morality. Whenever it began, Hayama knew one thing: he had long since abandoned the ideals of his previous life.

Sakumo's words stirred something in him. They forced him to ask himself if his way of thinking was truly correct. Could there really be love or compassion in a world as cold and brutal as the shinobi's? Still, the idea of opening himself to such sentiments felt dangerously naïve. In a world ruled by missions and power, compassion could easily become a double-edged sword, one that might eventually lead to his own downfall.

Sakumo sensed Hayama's internal conflict and delivered a final, heartfelt statement. "It doesn't matter what the village thinks of me. My conscience is clear. I have no regrets about passing on my knowledge to you. But from here on out, we won't cross paths again."

Before Hayama could respond, Sakumo turned his back to him, effectively closing the conversation. Hayama felt a pang of regret but knew there was nothing more he could say. He bowed silently and left the room.

That was the last time Hayama and Sakumo interacted. Though they had shared experiences and forged a bond, their fundamentally different worldviews made it impossible to continue as teacher and student. Both walked their own paths, driven by their own convictions.

...

Becoming a jōnin brought Hayama no joy. Instead, it weighed heavily on him. The world he lived in offered no place for the soul he carried from his former life. There was no one to understand him, no outlet for his frustrations. The burden was his alone.

Back in his tent, he fell into a deep, restless sleep. In his dreams, he returned to the peaceful world he remembered—a fleeting comfort that vanished with the light of dawn.

Watergate noticed Hayama's troubled demeanor but chose not to press. Instead, he left quietly, giving Hayama the space he needed to sort through his emotions.

...

The days passed in a monotonous cycle of eating, sleeping, and fighting Suna shinobi. Hayama became colder, more detached. Every enemy he faced fell swiftly, without hesitation. Over time, his efficient and ruthless style earned him a new nickname: "The Cold Killer." Though Hayama found the label amusing, he couldn't help but think that it was redundant. After all, weren't all shinobi cold by necessity?

...

Meanwhile, in Suna's leadership chambers, a tense meeting was underway. The village's top figures were gathered: the Third Kazekage, Chiyo and her brother Ebizō, along with Chiyo's son and daughter-in-law. This was the core of Suna's power structure, the people who would decide its future.

The Third Kazekage, with a dark expression, called upon Chiyo to speak. She hesitated for a moment before stating her proposal.

"I suggest one final, large-scale assault. If we can secure a decisive victory, we'll have the leverage we need for peace talks."

Her words aligned with what the Third Kazekage had been hoping to hear. A victory, even a small one, would provide the political capital necessary to end the war on more favorable terms. Yet, as his eyes drifted to Chiyo's son and daughter-in-law, his mood darkened.

During the early stages of the Second Shinobi World War, Suna had achieved significant gains, seizing most of the Rain Country's territory and twice defeating Konoha's forces. But the Kazekage's overreach and subsequent setbacks had plunged Suna into its current dire straits. The village's morale was in tatters, and even the Land of Wind's Daimyō had begun to question his leadership. The Third Kazekage knew his position was no longer secure.

In his mind, only one person posed a direct threat to his authority: Chiyo's son. If he was to step down, as some had begun to suggest, there was little doubt that Chiyo's family would rise to fill the void.

The Kazekage, concealing his intentions, smiled coldly. "After this final battle, I'll step down and let the younger generation take over. Until then, Chiyo, I'll leave this operation in your capable hands. Make sure it's a victory worth remembering."

Chiyo accepted the task with a measured response, though a flicker of satisfaction crossed her face. She had long prepared for this moment, and the prospect of her family ascending to power was within reach.

As the meeting adjourned, the leaders departed with smiles that masked the scheming beneath. Suna, like Konoha, was no stranger to treachery. In the shadow of war, the thirst for power was always close at hand.