Naruto: End of the Shinobi World

He even cooperatively turned around to face the Third Hokage and the others, a perfectly ”standard” smile spreading across his face—tinged with just a trace of youthful shyness and modesty.

”I’m fine with anything,” Naruto said evenly, almost sounding indecisive. ”Since everyone has their own ideas, and they’re all for Konoha’s sake… then why not vote?”

He paused, as though proposing the simplest solution imaginable.

”Whoever believes they have the ability and the will to oversee things during this period can nominate themselves.”

”Then all of us—those who can represent each side—vote together.”

”The minority yields to the majority. The one selected will take temporary charge until Granny Tsunade wakes up. That way it’s fair. No one can complain. What do you think?”

The entire conference room fell into deathly silence once more. The atmosphere was even stranger than before.

Yet Naruto seemed completely oblivious to the varied expressions on everyone’s faces and the suffocating tension in the room.

He smiled casually and spread his hands, his tone light, as if saying, I’m just making a suggestion—you can decide for yourselves.

”I’m just a Genin. Matters like this… I won’t get involved.”

He rose to his feet, his calm gaze sweeping over the dais where the Third Hokage, Danzō Shimura, and the others wore differing expressions. Then his eyes passed over the gathered Jōnin below, their faces complex and unreadable.

Finally, he spoke, his voice clear and steady:

”No matter what happens, I can accept it.”

Without another word, he turned and walked straight toward the meeting room exit. His steps were steady—without hesitation, without attachment. He didn’t even spare anyone a final glance.

Neji Hyūga watched Naruto’s retreating figure. The unease in his heart only deepened—along with his resolve.

Without hesitation, he stood as well. Under the gazes of surprise, confusion, and contemplation, he followed Naruto out of the chamber.

”You came out too? You’re a Jōnin. You should be inside participating in the decision-making,” Naruto said calmly as he stopped and turned to look at him.

Neji shook his head and stepped up beside him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing at the distant reconstruction site where shinobi and civilians worked tirelessly.

Lowering his voice, yet speaking with unmistakable clarity, Neji said:

”I think… your situation is more important.”

Naruto fell silent for a moment, then nodded. He didn’t argue.

The two of them wordlessly found a relatively secluded spot among the shattered walls and rubble, away from the crowd, and sat down in the shadows.

After a brief silence, Naruto spoke first, still trying to maintain a casual tone.

”I’m really fine, Neji. I told you already—it’s just that recently… I’ve been thinking a lot.”

”I’ve figured out some things too… things I hadn’t thought through before. Or didn’t want to.”

But Neji wasn’t fooled by the lightness in his voice.

He turned, his pale Byakugan eyes fixed intently on Naruto. His expression was more serious than ever.

”No, Naruto. You’ve changed.”

”How have I changed?” Naruto shot back instinctively, a perfectly timed look of mild surprise crossing his face. ”I’m still me, aren’t I? Uzumaki Naruto—Konoha’s Genin—the guy who wants to become Hokage.”

”The Naruto I knew would never say something like ’No matter what happens, I can accept it.’” Neji’s voice was resolute, his gaze sharp as a blade, as though cutting through every layer of Naruto’s façade. ”The Naruto I knew—even if he was reckless, even if he was stubborn—would never treat Konoha as something unimportant! Konoha is your home. It’s the place you’d risk your life to protect. That’s carved into your bones!”

He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. His voice dropped lower—but each word struck like a hammer against Naruto’s heart.

”To others, that line might sound like you’re just avoiding the trouble. Or that you’re being modest.”

”But I can hear it, Naruto.”

Neji stared into Naruto’s blue eyes, where the first ripples of disturbance had begun to show.

”You truly… don’t care anymore.”

”You don’t care who becomes the temporary leader. You don’t care how the higher-ups of Konoha fight amongst themselves. You don’t care who wins or loses in their power games…”

His voice carried a chilling clarity.

”Even if Konoha were to split apart today because of this argument—split in two, or descend into civil war…”

”You might not think it’s such a big deal anymore.”

”Isn’t that right?!”

The final question crashed down like thunder, striking directly at Naruto’s defenses.

The calm and faint surprise on Naruto’s face shattered instantly.

His pupils contracted sharply. For the first time, his blue eyes revealed violent turmoil he could not suppress.

He opened his mouth, as if to refute it—to explain—to say, That’s not true. But under Neji’s merciless, penetrating gaze, every prepared excuse lodged in his throat.

In the end, he only let out two ambiguous words—words that sounded dangerously close to admission.

”Maybe.”

That near-confession made Neji’s heart sink.

”Why? What happened? Naruto—tell me!”

Naruto only shook his head, avoiding Neji’s burning stare. He chose silence.

He couldn’t explain.

Or rather, he didn’t know how.

Only Naruto understood that it felt as though a filter he’d been born with had been stripped away.

Things once driven by instinct and emotion… things instilled in him by the so-called Will of Fire… things obscured beneath his singular obsession with becoming Hokage and earning acknowledgment…

They were now surfacing with startling clarity.

He began to think.

Calmly.

Even coldly.

He thought about why he had been called a ”demon fox” since childhood—why he had been isolated and hated.

He thought about how much sacrifice, injustice, and deception might lie beneath the ideals of the Will of Fire and the village’s so-called unity.

He thought about the calculations and exploitation hidden beneath the smiles of those in power.

He thought about Itachi Uchiha’s choice. About Orochimaru’s words. About whether Jiraiya’s death had concealed deeper conspiracies.

He even thought about what Karin had done to him and Sasuke—and the terrifying game unfolding behind the scenes, one far beyond his imagination.

These thoughts surged like a tide of icy water, washing relentlessly over his once-fiery and simple heart.

Bit by bit, they shattered and stripped away the beliefs he had once held without question.

What remained was a soul growing ever more lucid—

and ever colder.

He hadn’t told anyone because he knew that once certain truths were spoken aloud, they would only bring greater pain, suspicion, and irreparable division.

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