Asuma's head was spinning. The stuff those guys were saying—it hit like a gut punch, especially the part about Konoha's White Fang... it wasn't just an accident, they said, but a setup. He wanted to call it crazy, paranoid nonsense. But it felt real. Too real.
Growing up, it was all about his old man, the flawless Hokage, the one everyone looked up to. And yeah, Asuma ate that up, he really did. But deep down, a little voice always whispered, "Could anyone really be that perfect?" Not that he wanted to think bad about his father, more like a weird itch in the back of his mind. But hearing this stuff now... it was like that itch was starting to burn. Those doubts he'd kept buried were clawing their way to the surface.
"Could it really be true...?" The words just slipped out. He didn't mean to say them out loud, but his mind was running wild with possibilities.
Why the White Fang? Why did he suddenly... Suicide? Forced? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. And Kakashi... being put on the Hokage's team. Was that really just to train him? Or was it the old man keeping an eye on him? To stop Kakashi from trying to get revenge? Asuma's eyes narrowed slightly, a new suspicion taking root. The world he thought he knew was starting to feel shaky.
"Even the Fourth is just a puppet."
"Who's gonna keep the Will of Fire clean?"
"Who's gonna bring justice to Sakumo and the others?"
"I will," Asuma thought, not yelling it, just sealing it inside, like a vow. He wasn't doing this out of hate. He still didn't believe his father was evil... not yet. But something wasn't right, and he'd be damned if he didn't find out the truth. He wasn't just the Hokage's son. He was Asuma Sarutobi, and it was time people saw his fire.
If someone's gonna stop the real threat… it has to be me.
White Fang's death hurt Konoha. But jumping to conclusions wouldn't help anyone. He needed facts. Proof. That meant one thing: Kakashi. He had to talk to him, get the real story.
"Huh?" His surroundings felt... off. Empty. Quiet. Wait, where'd those guys go? He tensed. Gone, like smoke. "Tch," he clicked his tongue, annoyed. Should've stayed sharp. With a quick leap, he landed in the nearest park, scanning the area. Nothing. But he wasn't worried.
"They can't hide in the village. I saw their faces. I'll find them."
Grrrr... His stomach growled like a wild animal. "Heh... priorities." He turned on his heel, heading back toward the Sarutobi estate. Maybe his old man was home. Maybe not. Either way, he needed food and answers.
Soon.
From atop a nearby rooftop, shadows shifted. A snake coiled, and a pale figure stepped forward, arms folded, yellow eyes narrowed with interest.
Orochimaru.
"So... even the Hokage's son carries a spark," he said softly, voice low, amused. "The Will of Fire still clings to him."
He watched Asuma fade into the streets below, then gave a faint chuckle.
"But what will you do when the fire starts to burn your own house down?"
The smile on his face didn't reach his eyes.
"Sensei… the gift I'm preparing for you… you truly won't see it coming."
Of course, none of what Asuma had seen was real. Every word, every accusation, crafted. Draped carefully in half-truths, wrapped in doubt. A genjutsu so subtle, so quiet, it slipped right past him. Not brute-forced into his mind, but planted like a seed.
Because no one expects genjutsu when it feels like your own thoughts.
And Asuma? He never questioned it.
Why would he? Who'd ever dare use illusions to twist the Hokage's legacy, right in the heart of Konoha?
That was the beauty of it.
A single doubt… a single crack. And from there, the whole façade begins to crumble.
"What if… he sees your hypocrisy, Sensei?"
His voice dripped with quiet delight, soft as silk and just as dangerous.
"What if he chooses the same path Itachi-kun did... in that other world?"
He let the word hang.
"Genocide."
A chuckle followed, low and cold, echoing faintly off the tiles.
"Heheheh… but don't worry, Sensei."
He tilted his head slightly, voice soft, almost tender, like a lullaby sung with poison.
"Your pain won't come all at once."
"It'll be slow… layered… a journey through everything you built and called peace."
His grin widened, cruel and calm, like he was savouring each syllable.
"After all..."
He took a step deeper into the shadows, his voice barely above a whisper now,
"Wouldn't it be the perfect gift... for Kakashi-kun?"
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