Naruto: Starting as the Third Hokage with Tears in His Eyes

Chapter 500: Playing a requiem for the dead, and ushering in an era of peace for the living!

Ai's body stiffened for a moment.

His mind went blank.

The pride ingrained in Raikage's bones clashed violently with the newly emerging reverence for the equality of life within him.

Finally, he looked at Hiruzen Sarutobi's motionless back and then glanced at the names on the memorial tablet.

He closed his eyes.

Then, he bowed deeply as well.

At that moment, he was not worshipping his enemies or his hatred, but rather those vibrant lives that should not have been lost so hastily.

Hanzo the Salamander's movements were half a beat slower than Ai's.

As a demigod of Amegakure, he never bowed his head to anyone.

But at this moment, he looked at the Konoha Hokage and the Kumogakure Raikage bowing side by side, and listened to the silence behind him, which had become so profound that you could hear a pin drop.

He also bent down.

At this moment, the three highest leaders of the village paid their deepest respects to those ninjas.

This scene will forever be etched in the memories of all the ninjas present.

The rain continued to fall softly, its coldness pattering on everyone's shoulders, but the bone-chilling cold seemed to be somewhat dispelled by this silent bow.

Ai slowly straightened up, her body still tense.

He looked at Hiruzen Sarutobi beside him with a complex expression. This man, who had personally ended his father's life, was now dismantling the barrier of hatred in his heart in a way that he could not understand at all.

Hanzo the Salamander also raised his head, and beneath his breathing mask, his deep-set eyes flashed with extreme vigilance and contemplation.

The man's face showed only calmness, a calmness born from sorrow that had settled down.

Hiruzen Sarutobi then did something that once again surprised everyone.

He slowly raised his hand and reached into his spotless Hokage robe.

This action instantly heightened the tension.

Is it a scroll? Or some kind of special ninja tool?

Under the tense gazes of thousands, Hiruzen Sarutobi withdrew his hand.

What he held in his hand was neither a forbidden scroll capable of destroying the world, nor a divine weapon with its sharp edge exposed.

It was just a wooden flute.

A simple, even somewhat rough, wooden flute, like something a traveler casually carved in his spare time, with its slightly rough, light wood grain.

"..."

The entire canyon fell into an even deeper, deathly silence.

Ai was stunned.

Hanzo was also stunned.

Even Konoha ninjas like Minato Namikaze, Kakashi, and Obito were completely taken aback when the Hokage produced such a thing.

What are we supposed to do?

Hiruzen Sarutobi ignored all the confusion and bewilderment around him. He simply looked down at the wooden flute in his hand and gently rubbed it with his fingertips.

This is something he made for himself on a lonely, rainy night.

He slowly brought the wooden flute to his lips.

There were no opening remarks, no superfluous words.

Amidst the continuous autumn rain, the first note rang out softly.

It was a very light, low flute melody, with the unique warmth of wooden instruments, yet containing an indescribable heaviness.

Unlike any other piece of music people have heard, it has no stirring melody or fancy technique; it simply tells one sad story after another with the most unadorned tone.

The flute's mournful sound was like a child lost in the rain, softly calling out to those who will never return.

The flute's melody flowed, its tone rising slightly, as if transforming into an old woman sitting under the empty eaves, gazing at the endless road in the distance, murmuring to herself day after day, waiting for the person who would never return.

In the crowd, a Cloud Village ninja who had just lost his son began to tremble uncontrollably, tears mingling with rain as they rolled down his weathered face.

The melody changed again, sometimes urgent, sometimes broken, like the last breaths of countless young lives on the battlefield. They were filled with hope for the future and longing for their families, but in the end, they could only fall unwillingly into the cold mud.

"This...this is..."

Ai's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty.

The music is simply telling a story.

It tells the story of the most real pain and regrets belonging to each individual, hidden behind grand words like war, glory, and hatred.

On the other side, beneath Hanzo the Salamander's mask, his suspicious eyes were filled with surprise.

He spent his entire life dealing with intrigue and betrayal.

We've become accustomed to judging people's hearts with the worst possible malice.

But this flute music...

It was too clean.

It was so clean that it terrified him.

Because it revealed the deepest part of his heart, the self that he had long since buried with his own hands, the self that had not yet become a "demigod".

He remembered a long, long time ago, on that same rainy night, a dear friend who had turned his back to him and ultimately died in his arms.

Before he died, the man said to him, "Hanzo, we... must build a village... without war..."

This memory, forgotten for nearly half a century, pierced his already numb heart like a poisoned needle.

He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the unfamiliar trembling in his body with the cold touch.

The sound of the flute began to change.

Other elements gradually blended into the melody.

There was a whistling wind, a lament of the Sand Village. A daughter awaited her father's return; her longing remained forever on that crumpled piece of paper.

There was the heaviness of rocks, the lament of Iwagakure. A ninja who took pride in protecting his village, his body ultimately turned into dust in a foreign land.

There was the roar of thunder, the angry song of the Hidden Cloud Village. A descendant who promised to make the village stronger, his life ended in the cold inscriptions on that stone tablet.

Finally, all the melodies merged into the falling of a single leaf.

That was a farewell song belonging to Konoha.

"Where the leaves dance in the air, the fire will never die out..."

At that moment, everyone understood.

This piece of music is played for everyone present, for all the villages, and for all the lives lost in this war…

Requiem.

"Waaah..."

Someone, I don't know who, was the first to let out a suppressed sob.

Soon, the sobbing sounds continued in succession.

Countless ninjas, these tough guys who shed blood but not tears on the battlefield, could no longer suppress their emotions at this moment.

They covered their faces or lowered their heads, letting the scalding tears, mixed with the cold rain, wash over their cheeks.

It wasn't because of hatred, nor because of feeling wronged.

Rather, it was because, for the first time, they felt so clearly and so deeply a shared sorrow that transcended villages, positions, and hatred.

War is such a... sad thing.

Countless faces appeared in my mind amidst the mournful sound of the flute, only to fade away one by one.

The flute music gradually faded, leaving only a lingering echo.

The rain has stopped.

A ray of golden sunlight pierced through the thick clouds, shining into the damp canyon and illuminating the memorial stone that had just been cleansed by the rain.

The names on the monument gleamed in the sunlight.

Hiruzen Sarutobi slowly put down the wooden flute in his hand.

He turned around and calmly looked at the two figures in front of him who were still immersed in the huge emotional shock.

"Now, we can talk about the future of the living."