Hokage: Reborn as Hokage, Starting with Saving Jiraiya

The rooftop of Konoha's central district stood silent under a sky bruised with gathering clouds, the air thick with the metallic tang of Danzo's blood. Tsunade's fists trembled at her sides, her amber eyes locked on the spot where Naruto had vanished moments ago, his Flying Thunder God leaving only echoes of defiance. Jiraiya stood beside her, his face a mask of anguish, while Kakashi's lone eye darted between them, searching for answers. Danzo lay crumpled nearby, Shizune's hands glowing green as she fought to stabilize him, his severed arm and stolen eye a grim testament to Naruto's audacity.

Jiraiya's voice cracked the stillness, raw and jagged. "He's really doing it—defecting from Konoha." His chest tightened, a father's grief clawing at him. "Why, Naruto? Why?!"

Tsunade whirled on the empty space, her shout reverberating across the tiles. "Naruto, do you even hear yourself? You know what this means!"

Kakashi stepped forward, his calm fraying. "What's happened to you, Naruto? A few days ago, you were fine—now this?"

Naruto's form flickered back into view atop a distant chimney, the vial with Shisui's eye glinting in his hand, Danzo's arm tucked under his own. He met their gazes, his silence heavy with unspoken weight. These were his people—his teacher, his Hokage, his sensei—faces he'd fought for, bled for. But the path ahead demanded he walk alone. "I'm sorry," he said at last, voice steady but laced with regret. "I know it sounds insane. That's why I can't tell you—not yet. Even if you believed me, it wouldn't change the pressure coming. It's too much for anyone but me to bear."

Jiraiya's eyes bored into him, searching for the boy he'd raised. "Bear what alone? You think you're protecting us by keeping secrets?" His mind raced—Naruto's rescue in the Rain Village, the tender glances, the popsicle shared under a streetlamp, the Nine Tails key. And now, this: Shisui's eye, Danzo's Sharingan-laden arm, Sage Mode, Flying Thunder God. It clicked, a chilling pattern. "Naruto!" he barked, voice sharp. "What enemy are you gearing up for? You're collecting power like a madman!"

Naruto's lips twitched, a faint smile softening the hardness in his eyes. Jiraiya had seen through him—his mentor, his anchor. "Teacher," he said gently, "there's no point in saying it now. Trust me—I'm still me. Uzumaki Naruto, same heart, same dream. But if I don't do this, tragedies like the Uchiha clan will repeat."

Tsunade's fists slammed together, the sound a thunderclap. "The Uchiha mess was history—we couldn't stop it!"

Naruto shook his head, his voice cutting like a blade. "No, Granny. I've looked at it—Third Hokage's failure set it in motion. Politics gone rotten. If he'd reined in Danzo, if Mito Menyan and Koharu hadn't fanned the flames, the Uchiha's ambitions wouldn't have festered."

Danzo spat blood onto the tiles, his voice a venomous rasp. "You know nothing, brat! You think you understand a village? A Hokage?"

Naruto's gaze turned icy, his demeanor shifting—older, heavier, as if years pressed down on him. "Hokage? I've been one." The words hung like a storm cloud, stunning the rooftop into silence. He stepped forward, his presence commanding despite the chaos. "The Uchiha—Konoha's great pupil clan, equal to the Hyuga—were distrusted since the Second Hokage. No high council seats, just suspicion. Third pushed them to the edges, watched their every move, targeted their leader. Itachi? A pawn of that darkness, a perfect victim. Third's inaction—on Uchiha, on Orochimaru—it's a legacy of failure."

"Enough!" Tsunade and Jiraiya roared in unison, their voices a wall of outrage. Naruto's words sliced too deep, unraveling decades of leadership, questioning the Second and Third Hokages in one breath.

Jiraiya advanced, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and fear. "One last time, Naruto—if you keep this up, if you stand against me, will you turn into Nagato? Will you kill your teacher too?"

Naruto's face softened, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "Never, Sensei. You're too important—I'd never hurt you. We're not opposites."

"Then what is this?!" Jiraiya snapped, cutting him off. "You're tearing down the Hokage, the Will of Fire—everything I've taught you!"

Naruto's expression hardened, a sigh escaping him. "The Will of Fire? I haven't abandoned it. I've just found something bigger—God's will."

Jiraiya recoiled, his voice a thunderous accusation. "You've fallen, Naruto!"

"No, Sensei," Naruto countered, raising a hand. "Not Pain's false god—Nagato's a shadow of it. I mean a true god—supreme, beyond Six Paths, beyond cause and effect. A force that can sever everything." His voice dropped, heavy with dread. "If you're not strong enough, it crushes you like an ant—no guilt, no mercy. That's what's coming."

Silence fell, thick and suffocating. Tsunade waved a hand, her tone sharp. "That's fantasy, Naruto. Surrender now—I'll lighten your punishment."

Naruto snorted, a flicker of defiance in his eyes. Their paths diverged too far—explanations were premature, trust too fragile. With a buzz of chakra, he vanished, the Flying Thunder God whisking him away.

Danzo's head snapped up, his lone eye tracking the spot where his treasures—Shisui's eye, his Sharingan arm—had disappeared. Decades of plotting, undone in moments. Rage and blood loss overwhelmed him; he coughed crimson and collapsed, unconscious.

Miles away, Naruto materialized in a dense forest, the canopy shrouding him in shadow. He sank to his knees, Shisui's eye in its vial and Danzo's arm beside him, their weight a tangible burden. His breath came in ragged bursts as the day's cost settled over him—Konoha's trust, Jiraiya's faith, Hinata's hope. He'd answered their questions with half-truths, shielding them from a future he alone had seen: the Ōtsutsuki, the Ten Tails, a war that had shattered his world once before. The Sage of Six Paths had sent him back to stop it, and power—Shisui's genjutsu, Danzo's Sharingan—was his shield.

He clenched his fists, resolve hardening. Jiraiya feared he'd become Nagato, but Naruto saw a different path—not destruction, but salvation. The Will of Fire burned in him, tempered by a higher purpose—God's will, the Sage's mandate. He'd bear the scorn, the exile, if it meant sparing them that end.

The forest whispered around him, leaves rustling like distant voices—Tsunade's anger, Jiraiya's plea. He rose, sealing his spoils in a scroll. Konoha would hunt him now, Danzo's vengeance fueling the chase. But he'd keep moving, gathering strength, until the day he could return—not as a traitor, but as the savior they didn't yet know they needed.

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