Naruto: The Senju After the Age of Gods

"You four wait here. Don’t let anyone enter. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain!"

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Hikaru spoke with a gentle smile in the ANBU branch dungeon, facing four Senju operatives.

That warmth didn’t relax them even a little.

If anything, their rigid politeness was so extreme that even Kakashi looked sideways at them.

Hikaru didn’t comment. It was obvious they’d been badly shaken by his earlier "lesson." But until a few things were truly confirmed, he wasn’t about to let them off the hook.

He led Kakashi straight into the cells. The four Senju immediately withdrew, splitting up to lock down the corridor and the surrounding angles, executing the order with meticulous precision.

Hikaru remained expressionless. For some matters, he needed more certainty.

When they reached Pakura’s cell, she lifted her head at once.

Her time in captivity had been... unexpectedly tolerable.

Not easy—just better than she’d assumed.

Especially after she’d witnessed that private meeting between Hikaru and the Fourth Hokage, her "treatment" had quietly improved.

They still drew her blood every day, but there were no petty humiliations with food or comfort. And so far, she hadn’t been hauled off for interrogation—not once.

That didn’t feel like how ANBU handled prisoners.

Is today the day? she thought.

Her face stayed calm.

From the academy onward, every shinobi was taught a simple truth: if you’re captured, resist interrogation as long as you can, feed misinformation if possible—and when it becomes inevitable, die quickly.

There was an unspoken iron rule in the shinobi world:

Once you’ve been interrogated, you should die as soon as possible.

Because either way, the ending was death—better to suffer less and keep your dignity.

Pakura had already made her peace with dying.

When she was first captured, she’d considered struggling. But once she was brought to Konoha, that impulse faded.

Maybe she still had value—maybe her kekkei genkai made Konoha hesitate. That was the only explanation she could accept.

Hikaru didn’t care what she was thinking.

He stepped up to the bars and removed part of her seals. In an instant, Pakura regained her hearing.

He had no intention of restoring her ability to speak. He wasn’t interested in arguments.

He preferred people listening.

And in the end—no matter the method—accepting.

He didn’t do that to everyone, of course. He understood pacing. Sometimes you could be forceful; sometimes it was unnecessary.

"Now you can hear me," Hikaru said, smiling at Pakura as always—calm, warm, almost pleasant.

"I assume you have questions.

"You’ve been here for a while, and ANBU hasn’t interrogated you. We haven’t ’done’ anything to you either.

"Of course, there’s a reason."

He paused, watching her indifferent eyes. She heard him, but clearly didn’t take it seriously.

So Hikaru decided to stop wasting time.

It was already after work hours, and he still had another matter to handle—Senju Ryōta.

"Do you know what your greatest value is?"

Still smiling, he reached through the bars and clasped Pakura’s chin—just like he’d done to Renge the previous night.

He didn’t know why, but lately he’d found this method oddly effective on troublesome women.

It wasn’t "nice," but it was better than simply snapping a neck.

Pakura glared up at him, her eyes sharp as blades.

Whatever he was about to say, she’d already decided she wouldn’t give him what he wanted.

Then Hikaru spoke—and her gaze shifted.

"Your greatest value is this: you can be turned."

Hikaru’s voice stayed gentle.

Pakura’s eyes tightened, and a flicker of ridicule rose in them.

Turned? She’d never even considered it. She would never betray Sunagakure.

Did this Konoha brat really think being captured automatically meant she’d defect?

Plenty of shinobi were taken prisoner in wartime—countless. How many actually became traitors?

And even among those who did, how many served another village?

Hikaru read her expression effortlessly.

"Don’t look at me like that. Do you think an ANBU operative says things without basis?"

He released her chin and continued calmly.

"Do you know why I didn’t remove the seal over your mouth?

"Because I don’t want to hear you argue.

"You might keep silent instead.

"I don’t care which.

"But there’s something you need to understand."

He spoke her name softly.

"Pakura—during my recent operation in the Land of Wind, I obtained... interesting intelligence. Including information about you.

"We learned that Rasa wants to protect the gains Suna seized in the Land of Bear from Iwa. To do that, he needs to stabilize internal problems first.

"Especially the Mist operatives causing you trouble. Correct?

"And your assignment was to go to the Land of Water—Kirigakure—and ’talk’ to them.

"Set aside hatred. Stop harassing Sunagakure.

"How far that talks go depends on your ability.

"But here’s the question.

"Have you ever wondered why you were chosen for that mission?"

Hikaru deliberately paused, watching for a reaction.

There was none.

Pakura’s expression didn’t shift. No hesitation. No crack.

Not surprising.

This Pakura wasn’t the resurrected puppet from some later era. Her convictions were frighteningly solid.

Otherwise she never would’ve accepted such a mission alone in the first place—especially when her methods against Mist agents inside the Land of Wind had been notoriously brutal.

And that, to Hikaru, was good news.

Because the stronger a belief, the more devastating the collapse when it finally breaks.

"I know you don’t believe me," Hikaru said lightly. "But do you really think I’d waste time saying this without proof?"

He rocked her face slightly side to side—almost like testing a tool—then let go.

From his pouch he produced a scroll and tossed it at her feet.

"It’s not hard to understand why they sent you.

"You’re a hero of the village.

"And you’re someone whose hands are stained deep enough to terrify Kiri’s people.

"When Rasa’s idea of ’peace’ becomes the village’s absolute priority, you become a perfect bargaining chip."

Pakura had turned her head away the moment he released her.

She didn’t even glance at the scroll.

But when Hikaru said that, her body stiffened—just for an instant—before she forced herself still again.

Hikaru continued, still sounding almost kind.

"Everyone with half a brain knows what kind of man Rasa is.

"How did the Third Shinobi War start?

"The Third Kazekage vanished, and Rasa likely rode the banner of ’avenging’ him—gathering support, taking the seat.

"After that, Suna’s internal situation was unstable—opposition everywhere.

"And if he didn’t follow through on the slogans he used to rise, he’d be finished.

"Wrapped up in ’revenge,’ weighed down by internal politics, and obsessed with extracting more profit in the Land of Rivers—

"So he launched the Third Shinobi War.

"Now ask yourself:

"A man who calculates like that... what is your ’hero’ status worth to him?

"When he needs to focus on another crisis—does your life become acceptable payment?

"Does your kekkei genkai become acceptable payment?

"Would he trade you to make Kirigakure stop?"

Hikaru’s tone stayed warm—like spring air.

But both Kakashi and Pakura felt a chill crawl across their skin.

Kakashi held it in. Pakura couldn’t.

She didn’t want to hear these words.

Yet every sentence was worth considering.

And she had lived through those years. She hadn’t forgotten what she’d seen.

Hikaru didn’t invent new facts.

He simply linked what already existed into a single, horrifying conclusion.

Still—she couldn’t accept it.

She didn’t dare accept it.

Was the Fourth Kazekage... was Sunagakure truly prepared to discard her? Use her as a token?

Without meaning to, her gaze drifted toward the scroll on the floor.

It had rolled open as it landed. A few lines were visible.

And the moment she read them—

Her entire body went rigid.

The light drained from her eyes.

...

Outside the cell, Hikaru smiled at Kakashi.

"The rest is on you."

"Understood, Captain," Kakashi replied, his voice steady. "I won’t disappoint you."

Pakura hadn’t given an explicit answer.

But both of them knew it didn’t matter.

Her defenses had cracked.

The scroll contained material Hikaru had taken from the ANBU captain Viper—still bearing Hikaru’s own translation notes on top.

He’d done it on purpose.

It sent a message:

I have more than you can imagine.

Your encrypted intelligence is in my hands.

This kind of document is nothing special to me.

Pakura was still struggling internally.

But Hikaru told her one more thing on the way out:

In a few days, Kakashi would take her with him to Kirigakure.

Then she would learn whether Hikaru had lied.

Kakashi glanced at the four ANBU operatives shadowing Hikaru and guessed Hikaru had more business to handle.

So he bowed out first.

"I’ll take my leave, Captain."

Hikaru nodded with a smile. Kakashi vanished down the corridor.

Only once Kakashi was gone did Hikaru finally turn his gaze to the four Senju operatives.

"Alright," he said, still gentle. "Let’s go."

His eyes moved over them.

They immediately lowered their heads.

"Am I that scary?" Hikaru sighed theatrically. "You’re making this awkward."

"Apologies, Captain," all four answered at once.

But in their hearts, they completely agreed:

This man was terrifying.

What he’d said and done before leaving Konoha—the threat hidden behind that polite smile—still echoed in their minds.

They couldn’t treat this younger-looking boy as genuinely harmless.

That smile was camouflage.

Beneath it was a blade.

A man who could smile while issuing death threats to his own clan and forcing them to choose a side—

How could someone like that be "kind"?

Hikaru started walking, then stopped as if something occurred to him.

"Oh—by the way."

He scratched his head with a faintly apologetic expression.

"Does anyone here know where Senju Ryōta lives?

"Sorry. I genuinely don’t know where that ’sir’ is located.

"But I assume one of you does."

One of the four suddenly drew a sharper breath.

His head dipped even lower.

Hikaru’s smile deepened.

"So someone knows."

He turned his eyes toward that man.

"Then you’ll lead the way."

His voice stayed soft—almost friendly.

"After all... I have something very important to discuss with him.

"And I’d rather not waste time..."

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