Otonashi thought correctly; he really had become famous.
Because the class division in the ninja world was too superficial—only Genin, Chunin, Special Jonin, Jonin, and Kage, these four levels—no matter how strong a person was, they would quickly reach a point where they couldn't be promoted further.
Just like the Sannin, they were ultimately Jonin, essentially no different in rank from the Hyuga brothers. And this superficial ranking method also caused great trouble.
People with a bit of talent would quickly reach Jonin, and then the 'Jonin' level would have a huge disparity in strength.
Weaker ones might be killed by a Genin if they weren't careful, while powerful ones wouldn't even fear the Five Kage. Therefore, the ANBU of various countries, to avoid kicking an iron plate, made notes for exceptionally strong Jonin.
This note was a nickname.
Nicknames like 'Yellow Flash', 'Earth Splitter', etc., sounded impressive upon hearing, making ordinary ninjas heighten their vigilance or even avoid fighting without being held responsible.
"So that guy had such a background, no wonder he was so hard to fight." Otonashi nodded, the battle scene from half a month ago flashing in his mind.
If he hadn't used shadow clone self-destruction to disable one of his arms at the beginning, and calculated the opponent's psychology, the outcome of this battle would have been hard to say.
Ninjutsu, taijutsu, experience—that Lightning Blade Dai was almost flawless. Even though he had killed many Jonin, he discovered the disparity among them was ridiculously large.
It was no exaggeration to say that killing him alone was equivalent to killing ten ordinary Jonin!
'I guess I've overachieved my small goal.' Otonashi smiled, momentarily lost in thought again, seemingly looking for the next small goal.
Seeing him pondering, neither of the Hyuga brothers interrupted. Hiashi glanced at his elder brother, also knowing the other's intention.
Setting aside his student background, establishing a good relationship with this young hero, who was clearly a direct descendant supported by the Hokage, would be greatly beneficial to the Hyuga family.
Konoha's politics were mysterious. The top-ranking prestigious families were said to be the Uchiha and Hyuga, but he knew that in terms of combat power and authority, the Hyuga were far behind the Uchiha, more reflected on the strategic level.
With the Byakugan's existence, the success rate of Konoha squad battles was almost doubled, basically avoiding ambushes, which every village coveted.
"Lord Hiashi overpraises me. I almost died killing that Lightning Blade too." Otonashi finally returned to his senses and replied with a smile.
"No need to be overly modest. The fact that you are the one alive is enough. Perhaps soon your reputation will spread throughout the entire ninja world."
"Uh... that might be a bad thing." Otonashi smiled wryly. He would rather be a nobody and kill everyone from the shadows.
"How can a giant hide among dwarves? Or do you think the ANBU of other ninja villages are fools?" Hiashi patted Otonashi's shoulder earnestly, "It's only a matter of time."
Hizashi showed a faint smile: "Otonashi, recall your battle record yourself. How can you still hide?"
Battle record? That's true.
Otonashi estimated that from joining the war in Konoha Year 46 until now, almost a year had passed, and no less than a hundred people had died at his hands.
Genin and Chunin constituted the majority, but the number of Jonin had also reached double digits. Truly hands full of blood.
But whose hands weren't full of blood? Walking the path of a ninja meant 'I kill people, people kill me,' there was absolutely no turning back.
He took a deep breath, knowing that so-called fame was built upon piles of bones. There was neither joy nor sorrow.
"Don't think too much. Everyone comes through this way." Hiashi saw the teenager's expression and how could he not understand what the other was thinking? He paused and added:
"When Hizashi and I were young, we often thought about these things too. But the corpses of our comrades told us that the more you think, the faster you die. Later, responsibility gradually suppressed these thoughts."
"Responsibility?" Otonashi asked, a strange light flashing in his eyes.
"Yes, responsibility to the family, responsibility to the village. Do as much as your power allows; this is our limit." Hiashi replied in a deep voice. Seeing Otonashi still pondering, he gently shook his head.
At this age, it's appropriate to contemplate the meaning of killing. There's no need to interrupt. Or rather, contemplating the meaning of killing is inherently a privilege only the strong possess. The weak only think about surviving.
"Hizashi, come inside with me. The Third Hokage just briefed about the eastern front matters. I have some words to tell you." Hiashi was busy and had no time to accompany Otonashi in contemplating life.
"Yes, brother." Hizashi nodded, preparing to follow. But just as he took a few steps, a voice came from behind.
"Teacher, when do you think the killing will disappear?"
"As long as there are people, it won't disappear. We can only say try to reduce it." Hizashi replied without thinking. He glanced at his brother's stopped back ahead and thought for another moment.
As a Jonin who had struggled for thirty years and a member of a large family, he also had his own thoughts: "Just like Lord First Hokage established the ninja village system to eliminate the chaotic wars between families."
"But after the ninja villages were established, three Great Ninja Wars occurred," Otonashi retorted with a frown.
"That's still much better than the previous era of unordered chaotic warfare. At that time, countless clans were exterminated, and many more starved to death." Hizashi sighed, recalling hearing about that era from his grandfather's generation.
Establishing ninja villages backed by Daimyo finally brought system, logistics, and education. When there was nothing to do, one could even eat barbecue or ramen.
But in that hellish era, you could be assassinated just by going out. Betrayal was as simple as drinking water. Ninjas not only had to kill each other but also starve. If one-third out of ten children could reach adulthood, it was thanks to ancestral blessings.
Don't look at how tragic the Great Ninja Wars were. After each war, there were still ten years to recuperate. Back then, there wasn't a moment of peace. For small families, forget about rising, even survival was an extravagant hope.
"Anarchic state, the entire world shrouded in the shadow of ninjas." Otonashi instantly understood. At least the current ninja world had rules.
"Yes, now at least no one dares to openly massacre civilians or assassinate Daimyo. But the price is conflicts between villages. As for the future path, it's up to you guys to find it—what can achieve long-lasting peace." Hizashi shook his head, left this sentence, and followed his brother inside.
He was getting old; protecting the Hyuga family was his greatest goal.
The spring breeze blew past. The teenager standing under the tree had his shoulders covered in petals, as if he had become a statue.
Long-lasting peace? Not eternal?
His eyes were first filled with confusion, then cleared, seeming to grasp something.
...
While Konoha enjoyed the spring breeze, fragrant birds, and blooming flowers, deep underground, silence and oppression were everything here.
"Stop wasting your effort. The exit has already been collapsed by your companion."
The old man supported his head with one hand, watching面前 (in front) expressionlessly.
The world was so unfair. While Hanyu Otonashi achieved fame and success, Uchiha Obito was struggling to crawl on the ground. One of his eyes was blind, and his lower body showed a pale white color, as if it had regrown.
"I don't care! I finally awakened the Sharingan, I finally found a group of companions, I must find them." The teenager gritted his teeth, his forehead covered in sweat. Every meter he crawled now took all his strength.
The old man watched him indifferently. Seeing Obito crawl a few more meters and finally stop completely, only able to pant heavily.
"But the companions you cherish abandoned you, leaving you in this sunless place with me."
These words struck the heart. Even the heavy panting paused slightly.
When Otonashi was attacked, another white monster had conveniently knocked him out, so Obito hadn't heard the subsequent battle sounds. Needless to say, this was also someone's arrangement.
This deathly silence lasted for a moment, then Obito suddenly said, "I don't blame them."
"Why?"
"Kakashi was seriously injured. Rather than saving me, who was sure to die, it was better to save him." Obito started panting again, seeming to both suppress pain and convince himself.
"You are really kind." The old man snorted ill-humoredly, then added, "Then you are not wrong, and they are not wrong either. Yet you ended up like this. It can't be my fault, can it?"
Like posing an unsolvable philosophical question. Obito was suddenly speechless, only focusing on continuing his difficult crawl forward.
The Iwa-nin, as enemies, attacking desperately wasn't wrong. Otonashi leaving early to save Kakashi also wasn't wrong.
Then who was at fault?
Obito didn't know. He just focused on crawling forward until he passed out, as if searching for the last glimmer of light in his heart.
"Throw him onto the bed." The old man gestured towards the spiral White Zetsu with his chin, then raised his head to look at another white figure on the ceiling. The latter understood and immediately disappeared into the rock wall.
Looking at the unconscious teenager, the old man seemed to know the Uchiha family's disposition very well. When the last glimmer of light was covered by darkness—
The teenager would eventually reach a conclusion, an extreme conclusion.