Tanzaku Town — Late Afternoon

43 Days Until the Annihilation of the Shinobi World

The clinking of dice, the ring of coin, and the occasional cheer or groan of gamblers filled the smoky air inside the casino. Beneath chandeliers dimmed by years of smoke, Tsunade Senju, the once-proud Princess of Konoha, sat hunched over a sake bottle, eyes half-lidded, her golden hair disheveled and her cloak hanging loosely from her shoulders.

She reeked of alcohol, defeat, and something older still: grief.

Jiraiya pushed open the door, stepping into the haze. Kakashi, watching from a narrow slit between the wood-and-paper sliding doors outside, felt the tension coil in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn't expected to encounter two of the legendary Sannin on a single mission — let alone in such broken forms.

Tsunade didn't turn as Jiraiya approached, only raised her cup in mock salute. "You again."

Before he could speak more than a few words, her fist blurred through the air.

CRASH.

Jiraiya was launched backward through the flimsy wall with a thunderous boom, dust and splinters flying. Patrons froze mid-bet, and even the croupiers ducked behind their tables. One sake cup rolled across the floor and clinked softly to a stop.

Tsunade stood slowly, her expression indifferent, but an oppressive chakra radiated off her like heat from molten steel. Despite the obvious sway of alcohol, there was clarity in her eyes — and danger.

"The destruction of the Ninja World?" she slurred. "What the hell does that have to do with me?"

Her voice was hoarse, heavy with weariness and disdain."Hokage? That's the stupidest title I've ever heard."

Kakashi narrowed his eye behind the mask. That stung. Whether or not she knew, her words struck like a kunai dipped in venom.

Jiraiya groaned from the rubble but stood, brushing himself off with the weariness of someone who had been punched by this woman far too many times.

"You didn't need to hit me that hard..." he muttered, rubbing his ribs.

Tsunade ignored him. Her gaze snapped toward Kakashi, as if just now sensing his presence through the thin screen.

"You. Kakashi Hatake."She smirked faintly. "You don't look thrilled to see me."

Kakashi stepped forward, his voice neutral. "I was only ordered to escort Jiraiya back to the village. Nothing more."

He didn't say "you."

Didn't need to.

Tsunade caught the omission like a blade between her fingers.

Her lip curled. "Jiraiya, did you hear that? Even your backup thinks dragging me back is a waste of time."

Jiraiya raised his hands. "Hey, don't lump me in with—"

"Hmph." She cut him off with a sneer. "You always were the guilty type."

Kakashi turned to leave. This wasn't his fight. But then he heard her say behind him, softly, almost with a sigh:

"See? He doesn't believe in you either."

The mockery in her voice was paper-thin — barely masking the hollow ache underneath.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks.

He turned back to her, studied her carefully.

This wasn't the proud warrior of legend. This was a woman shackled to her own sorrow — drowning in the ghosts of Nawaki and Dan, clinging to alcohol like it could erase the past.

But if she truly didn't care... she wouldn't have reacted this way.

The bitterness, the rejection — it came from somewhere deep.

She still cared. That much was clear.

"Lady Tsunade..." Kakashi said at last, quietly.

"You are Konoha's greatest medical ninja. The best we've ever known. If disaster truly comes, someone like you could save more lives than an entire army."

Tsunade raised a brow, unimpressed. "Here we go. The grand speech."

But there was a flicker in her eyes. A hesitation. A long-forgotten twitch of conscience.

Kakashi continued, more softly this time.

"Hokage..."He let the word settle.

"There was once someone I knew. A boy who said — again and again — that he wanted to become Hokage."

"He was reckless. Loud. Irritating. But when he set his mind on something, he didn't back down. Not even a little."

Tsunade's expression faltered slightly.

Kakashi's eye didn't blink. "So maybe, what you think is a joke... is someone else's dream. Maybe even the only dream that kept them alive."

He turned his gaze upward, toward the shattered ceiling above the casino. A faint breeze whistled through it — a breeze that carried the weight of things left unsaid.

"I used to think... maybe one day, I'd like to become Hokage too."

That silenced the room.

Tsunade straightened a little, blinking slowly. "You?"

Even Jiraiya looked stunned. "You want to be Hokage? Kakashi, really?"

Kakashi gave a tired shrug. "Didn't expect it either."

He placed a hand over his covered eye.

Deep inside, his Sharingan pulsed — not with chakra, but with something harder to measure.

Conviction.

"Maybe it's someone else's influence. Maybe I'm just tired of watching people chase dreams alone."

A hazy memory flickered in his mind — a handwritten essay, childlike and clumsy, from a boy named Uchiha Gen. A dream laid out not with brilliance, but with heart.

He couldn't even understand why he remembered it so clearly.

That essay was like a seed, unconsciously taking root and sprouting deep within his mind...

"I want to be Hokage because I want to protect everyone — even the people who don't like me."

Those words had stayed with him, stubbornly, like a seed growing in shadow.

Tsunade stared at him long and hard. Her eyes, bloodshot and heavy with fatigue, shimmered with a ripple of something long buried.

"You've changed," she muttered. "Used to think you were just another emotionless genius. Turns out you've got a fire in there after all."

Kakashi said nothing.

Jiraiya clapped his hands with a laugh. "Well, damn. That's probably the most honest thing I've heard in weeks."

But he wasn't laughing at Kakashi — he was relieved.

Because someone had finally said the thing he'd been afraid Tsunade needed to hear.

Kakashi looked once more toward the door.

"Hokage isn't about power or glory," he said.

"It's about responsibility. About staying behind so others can move forward. About making sure no one walks this world alone."

Those words hit Tsunade like a blow softer than a whisper — but far more devastating.

She looked down, and her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for her cup.

The sake was bitter now. It had been for years. She just hadn't admitted it.

"...Let's go," she finally murmured.

Jiraiya blinked. "What?"

Tsunade stood slowly, brushing back her bangs and tightening the sash around her waist.

"I said, let's go. Before I change my mind."

For the first time in years, the faintest smile cracked through the mask of grief on her face — tired, crooked, but real.

Kakashi watched silently, not smiling, but a weight lifted from his chest.

They turned to leave together.

Behind them, the dust in the ruined casino began to settle. But none of them noticed that Kakashi's covered eye was still faintly glowing beneath the patch, its dormant Sharingan responding — subtly but surely — to the dream now burning inside him.

And somewhere far above, beyond the clouds, the planet that heralded their world's doom inched closer.