Chapter 273 - 273: Ch273: New Hokage
The afternoon sun had shifted, painting long, warm rectangles of light across the living room floor when Konan stirred first, then Mei, and finally Ameha. Kakashi felt the subtle changes in their breathing, the slight shifts in weight against him. He opened his eye as Konan lifted her head, a soft, sleepy smile gracing her features.
"Did you all have a good nap?" he asked, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.
Konan nodded, stretching her arms with a grace that made the movement look like a dance. "Very restful."
Ameha, still nestled firmly against his side, didn't move, but the utter laxness of her muscles, the way her head was a dead weight on his shoulder, spoke volumes. She was deeply, truly relaxed.
Mei, on his other side, simply hooked an arm around his neck and pulled herself up to plant a slow, lingering kiss on his lips. It was a languid, possessive gesture, full of waking warmth. From the corner of his eye, Kakashi saw Ameha, still pretending to be asleep, roll her eyes dramatically.
Not to be outdone, Konan leaned over from his other side, cupping his cheek and giving him a softer, but no less affectionate kiss.
Ameha's patience snapped. "You guys," she grumbled, her voice muffled against Kakashi's shirt. "I'm still here."
Konan and Mei broke apart, sharing a look before bursting into quiet, melodic chuckles. "Our apologies, Director," Mei said, her tone dripping with faux solemnity.
"We forgot the Federation's chief spymaster was on a mandatory cuddle-break."
They disentangled themselves, rising from the sofa with the effortless elegance of legendary kunoichi. "We'll start thinking about dinner," Konan said, smoothing her robes. "Something that doesn't need to be guarded in a corner."
As they glided out towards the kitchen, Kakashi gently extricated himself from Ameha's hold and stood up. He looked down at his eldest daughter, who was now sitting up, trying to reassemble her usual composed expression.
"Come with me, soldier," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm not letting you out of my sight for a week. Consider yourself under supervised R&R."
Ameha's dark eyes widened slightly. Her mind, already whirring back to operational status, had indeed been formulating a plan to 'check in on a few things' at headquarters later that evening. That plan evaporated under her father's knowing gaze.
A flicker of genuine helplessness crossed her face, but it was quickly chased away by a small, reluctant smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. Being forced to take a break by the one person whose authority she never questioned wasn't the worst fate.
"Yes, Father," she said, standing up and brushing non-existent dust from her clothes.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. The manor's living room dissolved, replaced by the serene, tree-lined pathways of the Founders' Area in New Konoha. The air here was different—laced with history, legacy, and the powerful, friendly chakra signatures of the village's pillars.
The houses were spacious, traditional yet modern, nestled among ancient trees. Not far off, Kakashi could sense the bright, sunny chakra of Minato and the vibrant, fiery warmth of Kushina. His destination was closer.
They stood before a large, welcoming home that perfectly blended Uzumaki orange accents with Hyūga minimalist elegance. It was unmistakably Naruto's. Kakashi raised a hand and knocked.
The door was flung open almost immediately, not by an adult, but by two bundles of hyperactive energy.
"Uncle Kakashi!"
Himawari, her dark hair in twin buns, her Byakugan-pale eyes sparkling, beamed up at him. Right behind her, trying to look cooler and failing, was Boruto, his spiky blonde hair a miniature echo of his father's.
"Big Sis Ameha!" Himawari chirped, darting past Kakashi to wrap her arms around Ameha's waist in a tight hug. Ameha, usually so reserved, allowed it, even patting the girl's head gently.
Boruto's reaction was more complicated. His eyes found Ameha, and a visible, full-body flinch went through him. His bravado faltered, his shoulders hunching slightly before he forcibly straightened up, puffing out his chest in a transparent attempt to look tough.
The memory was clearly fresh, a younger Boruto, in a phase of spectacular disrespect towards his
father, had made the fatal error of doing so within earshot (and eyesight) of Ameha Hatake.
The 'lesson' she had administered hadn't been physically brutal, but it had been psychologically thorough, tactically humiliating, and utterly unforgettable. Boruto had gained a healthy, bone-deep wariness of the silver-haired director ever since.
Then Hinata appeared at the door, her gentle smile instantly calming the atmosphere. "Kakashi-sensei, Ameha-chan. Welcome." She stepped aside, ushering them in. "Please, come in."
"Sorry for the trouble, Hinata," Kakashi said as he stepped over the threshold, toeing off his sandals.
"It's nothing, Kakashi-sensei," Hinata replied, her voice soft but firm. "Naruto-kun will be overjoyed to see you. He's upstairs in his studio. I'll call him down." She gestured towards the comfortable living room, where sunlight streamed through large windows overlooking a well-tended garden.
Himawari, still clinging to Ameha's hand, followed her mother towards the stairs, chattering about showing Ameha her latest drawings. That left Boruto standing awkwardly in the genkan with Kakashi and Ameha.
Kakashi took a seat on the plush sofa, Ameha sitting primly beside him. He turned his attention to the fidgeting boy. "So, Boruto. How's it going lately?"
Boruto seized the topic like a lifeline. "Awesome! I just perfected the Vanishing Rasengan Master Sasuke taught me! It's such a cool jutsu, y'know? As expected of Master Sasuke!" His fanboy admiration for his teacher was plastered all over his face.
Across from him, Ameha listened expressionlessly. Then, without any fanfare, without a single hand sign or even a visible gathering of chakra, a perfect, silently humming Rasengan formed in the palm of her hand.
But this one was different, it flickered, its light bending, becoming translucent, then completely invisible, though the faint distortion in the air and the soft, swirling sound gave away its presence. It was harmless, a demonstration of pure control.
Boruto's jaw dropped. He stumbled back a step. "Gahhh! Nani?! How do you know how to do that?!" he spluttered, pointing a shaking finger at the empty-looking space above Ameha's palm.
"Because the Vanishing Rasengan was created by Kakashi-sensei when I was your age, Boruto."
Naruto's voice, warm and rich with amusement, came from the staircase. He descended into the living room, a broad smile on his face. In his prime, Naruto Uzumaki was a formidable presence.
He'd grown into his father's build, broad-shouldered and solid. His hair, much to his own occasional chagrin, had grown out long, tied in a short, spiky ponytail at the nape of his neck that was eerily reminiscent of Nagato in his 'Pain' days. He'd once threatened to cut it all off, but a single, softly spoken request from Hinata" I think it looks very handsome, dear" had ended that discussion permanently.
He held up his own hand, and a second Vanishing Rasengan materialized, identical to Ameha's, spinning silently in his grip.
"NANI?! You can do it too, Dad?!" Boruto looked utterly betrayed, his worldview of 'cool S-rank jutsu exclusive to Master Sasuke' crumbling before his eyes.
Naruto laughed, a full-bodied, joyful sound that filled the house. He dismissed the Rasengan. "Hahaha, of course! Whatever Sasuke can do, I can do better. And cooler." He winked at his son, striking a ridiculous pose that made Himawari, who had reappeared with Hinata, giggle and clap. "Right, Himawari?"
"So cool, Daddy!"
Naruto then turned his bright blue eyes, still holding the boundless energy of a sun, onto his former teacher. "Kakashi-sensei! Ameha-chan! Good to see you!" He gave Kakashi a firm, one-armed man-hug, which Kakashi returned with a pat on the back and a mock grimace.
"You're an old man now, Naruto. Stop hugging like an overexcited child."
Naruto just laughed it off, releasing Kakashi to sweep Hinata into a brief, loving embrace, then ruffling Boruto's hair and scooping up a squealing Himawari.
As they all settled down, Hinata brought in a tray of tea, and Kakashi didn't waste time. He took a sip, set his cup down, and smiled at his former student, his successor, his friend.
"Congratulations, Seventh Hokage."
The room went quiet. Naruto froze, his cup halfway to his lips. The title, spoken so simply by the man who had held it before him, the man who was now so much more, landed with profound weight.
Then, his blue eyes ignited, not with the blaze of Kurama's chakra, but with a pure, unadulterated joy and pride that was entirely his own. A wide, tremulous smile spread across his face.
He carefully put his cup down, stood up, and enveloped Kakashi in another, tighter hug, this one full of unspoken gratitude, respect, and shared history. Kakashi endured it with a long-suffering sigh, but his hand came up to clasp Naruto's shoulder firmly.
When Naruto finally pulled back, his eyes were suspiciously bright. He turned and hugged Hinata again, then Boruto and Himawari, who cheered, understanding the significance even if they didn't know all the decades of struggle it represented.