Mastering the Elements - Chapter - 19

The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the dark walls of the Hokage’s office, casting long, tired shadows across the cluttered desk.

Hiruzen Sarutobi sat there, his pipe resting idly between his fingers, its embers long since burned out.

Tonight, his thoughts were far away.

Tonight, his mind wandered to the past—to the day Konoha lost its future.

The day Minato Namikaze died.

Minato had not just been a powerful shinobi—he was more than that.

He was the people’s champion.

A man with no ties to any clan, no political obligations, no hidden agendas.

He was the first Hokage in generations who could truly rule without being bound by family alliances or old rivalries.

Unlike the Uchiha, who were feared.

Unlike the Hyuga, who were distant and isolated.

Unlike the Senju, whose power had long since faded.

Minato was… pure.

A leader chosen by the people, not by birthright.

And that was why his death had been more than just a tragedy.

It had been a loss of an era that never even began.

Hiruzen exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead.

How many times had he asked himself—what if?

What if Minato had survived?

Would Konoha be stronger? Would it be safer?

Would they still be stuck in this endless cycle of fear and power struggles?

Minato had been different. He had been… hope.

And now, there was no replacement for him.

Danzo had pushed for a stronger military government.

The clans had grown restless, each vying for more influence.

Even the people—those who had once believed in Minato’s vision—had fallen back into their old habits of distrust and suspicion.

Hiruzen took a long, shaky breath.

He had tried.

He had tried to be the leader Konoha needed.

But he was not Minato.

And deep down, he knew it.

His eyes flickered to a stack of reports on his desk.

One of them bore a name that sent a chill down his spine.

Uzumaki Naruto.

Hiruzen leaned back, staring at the name.

Minato’s son.

The boy who should have been raised as a hero.

Instead, he had been shunned. Isolated. Abandoned by the very village Minato died to protect.

Hiruzen closed his eyes, guilt weighing heavily on him.

He had tried to keep Naruto safe.

Tried to give him a chance at a normal life.

But he had failed.

Because no matter how much power a Hokage had, he could not change people’s hearts.

And now, Naruto was being raised not by Konoha’s guidance—

But by a man Konoha didn’t understand.

Hari Pottaru.

A man who was not a shinobi. Not a clan leader. Not a politician.

But still, somehow, a force unlike anything Hiruzen had ever encountered.

Hiruzen sighed, staring at the ceiling.

Maybe…

Maybe there was still hope.

Maybe Naruto would be what his father was meant to be.

Maybe…

Hiruzen closed his eyes.

And for the first time in years, he prayed.

Not to any gods.

Not to any spirits.

But to Minato.

To the Hokage they had lost.

"Forgive me, Minato… for not being the leader you were."

Because in the end—

Konoha had not just lost a Hokage that day.

They had lost a new era.


The soft crackling of the Hokage’s pipe was the only sound in the dimly lit office.

Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, his mind racing.

The memories of Minato Namikaze had come to him suddenly, unbidden, as if pulled from the depths of his conscience.

But now… now he understood why.

It wasn’t nostalgia.

It wasn’t grief.

It was because today—

Konoha had witnessed the Yellow Flash once again.

At first, it had been isolated reports.

A shinobi had sworn that he had seen a streak of yellow light near the training grounds.

Then a civilian merchant reported a bright golden flash flickering through the rooftops.

Then multiple ANBU squads confirmed it—

There were yellow flashes appearing all over Konoha.

And not just one.

Dozens.

It was almost like…

Minato was back.

Hiruzen took a slow, deep breath, his grip tightening around his pipe.

For a moment, he had dared to hope.

For a single, foolish moment, he had thought—

Could Minato have…?

No.

Minato Namikaze was dead.

There was no bringing him back.

But then—

Who?

Who had recreated his technique?

Who had unleashed the Yellow Flash once more?

Hiruzen reached for a fresh report brought to him by the ANBU.

It detailed multiple sightings of the golden flash appearing across the village.

It moved too fast for any tracking jutsu.

No sensor ninja could pinpoint its exact movements.

The flashes had appeared near:

The training grounds

The commercial district

A residential sector

Even near the Hokage Monument


It wasn’t just one random appearance.

It was happening all over the village.

Hiruzen closed his eyes.

Only one man had ever moved like this before.

And he was gone.

The more Hiruzen thought about it, the more his mind turned to one person.

Hari Pottaru.

An unknown element. A foreigner. A man of great skill and mystery.

He had been in Konoha for only a few months, and already strange things were happening.

A boy who shouldn’t have had Wood Release had awakened it.

And now…

This.

Hiruzen opened his eyes, his expression dark.

If someone had recreated Minato’s technique, then Konoha had to know who it was and what their intentions were.

Was it an ally?

Or was it a new threat?

And more importantly…

Was this truly Minato’s jutsu reborn?

Or was it something even more dangerous?

Hiruzen rose from his chair.

He turned to his ANBU guards standing in the shadows of his office.

"Deploy a surveillance team," he ordered. "Find out who is responsible for the flashes appearing throughout the village."

The ANBU nodded swiftly. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

They disappeared into the darkness, moving immediately to obey.

Hiruzen exhaled deeply, his gaze drifting toward the window, where the Hokage Monument loomed over the village.

For years, Minato’s face had watched over Konoha.

And now, the legend of the Yellow Flash was returning.

He had to know why.

And he had to know who.

Because if this was not a friend of Konoha…

Then it could be a disaster unlike anything before.


Kakashi Hatake stood atop a rooftop, his lone visible eye fixed on the village below. The dim glow of lanterns flickered across Konoha’s streets, casting long shadows between the alleys and narrow pathways.

The mission he had been assigned wasn’t just a mission to him—it was personal.

The Yellow Flash had returned.

And Kakashi would be damned if he let someone steal his sensei’s legacy and use it to harm Konoha.

The Fourth Hokage’s technique—the Hiraishin no Jutsu—was something that should have died with Minato Namikaze.

Yet here he was. Chasing it.

His grip tightened around his kunai.

"Report," Kakashi murmured into his radio earpiece.

A voice crackled to life. "Target sighted near the marketplace. Another confirmed sighting near the eastern training grounds. It moves too fast—faster than we can track."

Kakashi frowned beneath his mask. Faster than ANBU? That wasn’t something just anyone could do.

"Understood. Keep your distance. I’ll intercept," he ordered.

With a flicker of movement, Kakashi vanished from the rooftop.

He landed soundlessly in a quiet alleyway, his keen senses scanning for any lingering chakra signatures.

Then—

A faint golden flash in the distance.

Kakashi snapped his head up, his Sharingan whirring to life beneath his headband.

There!

The flash had appeared for only a second, near the training grounds.

Without hesitation, Kakashi propelled himself forward, flickering across rooftops as fast as his body would allow. His movements were a blur of speed, his focus razor-sharp.

But just as he approached the spot—

Gone.

Nothing.

The streets were empty, the only sound being the distant murmurs of civilians going about their nightly routines.

Kakashi narrowed his eye.

This wasn’t simple speed.

Someone was teleporting.

Kakashi exhaled slowly, adjusting his forehead protector.

There was no doubt in his mind now.

This wasn’t just someone imitating the Fourth Hokage’s jutsu.

This was someone using it—or something very close to it.

But the most concerning part?

The chakra levels.

Even from brief glimpses, Kakashi could feel it—the sheer amount of raw energy this person had was immense.

Not just a jonin.

Not just a prodigy.

Whoever this was… was on a Kage-level power scale.

And that sent alarm bells ringing in Kakashi’s mind.

Because if this person wasn’t a friend of Konoha…

Then they had a serious problem.

Kakashi crouched on a rooftop, letting his mind race through the possibilities.

The fact that his Sharingan couldn’t get a good look at the target was even more alarming.

Every time he got close—the flash disappeared.

Whoever they were, they weren’t just moving randomly.

They knew they were being followed.

Kakashi exhaled sharply.

"Hatake to all units," he murmured into his radio. "Stay on alert, but do not engage. Our target isn’t just fast—they’re aware of us. This is not an ordinary shinobi."

His earpiece crackled with affirmations from his team.

He turned his gaze toward the night sky.

If his sensei’s jutsu had truly returned to the world…

Then Kakashi needed to know who was wielding it.

And whether they were friend or foe.

Because one thing was certain.

This was no ordinary ninja.

This was someone dangerous.


Kakashi landed silently on the rooftop of a nearby building, his single visible eye scanning the surroundings.

The Yellow Flash had led him here—to the quiet neighborhood where Hari Pottaru resided.

And just as quickly as it had appeared…

It vanished.

Kakashi's grip on his kunai tightened.

This wasn’t just some coincidence.

He had long suspected Hari Pottaru to be more than just an eccentric outsider. The man had no documented past, no known affiliations, and yet…

Everyone who met him felt something strange.

Even the Hokage, who had encountered countless warriors, had admitted that there was something off about him.

And now, with the return of the Yellow Flash, the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

Kakashi crouched behind a chimney, narrowing his eye as he observed the courtyard below.

There, sitting calmly at an outdoor wooden table, was Hari Pottaru.

The man sat in complete stillness, his eyes closed, his hands resting gently on his lap.

He was meditating.

No movement. No sound.

Just a stillness so absolute that Kakashi almost felt as if time itself had paused around him.

Kakashi frowned.

Even the best shinobi had subtle movements—the rise and fall of their chest, the faint twitch of a muscle.

But Hari Pottaru?

He was as motionless as a statue.

A chill ran down Kakashi’s spine.

There was something… unnatural about him.

It wasn’t killing intent.

It wasn’t hostility.

It was simply an aura of something beyond understanding.

Like he didn’t belong in this world.

Like he was something greater—older—darker.

Kakashi had fought countless enemies. He had seen men who were monsters on the battlefield.

But this?

This was different.

Despite every instinct telling him that confronting this man was a bad idea, Kakashi dropped down from the rooftop, landing softly a few feet away from the table.

The moment his foot touched the ground—

Harry’s eyes snapped open.

Kakashi froze.

Because in that instant—

It felt like the entire world turned silent.

The air grew heavier, like the weight of the sky was pressing down on him.

And those emerald green eyes…

They weren’t just watching him.

They were peering into him.

Like they could see through every mask he had ever worn.

Like they could strip him bare, down to the very core of his soul.

Kakashi fought the sudden urge to step back.

This wasn’t genjutsu.

This was something else entirely.

But he refused to show weakness.

"You've been busy," Kakashi said calmly, keeping his voice neutral.

Harry tilted his head slightly, his gaze unreadable. "Oh?"

Kakashi didn’t move. "There were sightings of a Yellow Flash all over Konoha today."

Harry remained silent.

Kakashi continued, his voice measured. "It led me here."

Harry did not blink.

He simply exhaled a slow, relaxed breath. "And what do you expect to find, Hatake Kakashi?"

Kakashi’s fingers tightened around his kunai.

"The truth."

A long silence stretched between them.

Kakashi could hear the distant sounds of the village—the faint murmur of people, the chirping of crickets, the occasional bark of a stray dog.

But in this moment, it felt like he and Hari Pottaru were the only two people in the world.

Then—

Harry smiled.

Not mocking.

Not threatening.

Just calm.

"Truth is a complicated thing," he said softly, his voice smooth like flowing water. "Sometimes, knowing it changes nothing."

Kakashi’s eye narrowed.

"And sometimes," Harry continued, "it changes everything."

Kakashi stared at him, every instinct screaming that this man was not ordinary.

And yet…

He couldn’t tell if Harry was a danger or not.

And that was the most terrifying part.

The tension in the courtyard was thick enough to cut with a blade.

Kakashi Hatake stood firm, his katana raised, its edge gleaming under the soft moonlight.

His ANBU teammates had silently moved into position, each one ready to strike at the slightest sign of hostility.

And across from them, Hari Pottaru sat calmly, his expression unreadable.

Kakashi’s heart pounded. He had faced many powerful enemies, but something about this man—this enigma cloaked in mystery—felt different.

He wasn’t just strong.

He wasn’t just dangerous.

He was something beyond understanding.

And Kakashi couldn’t allow him to be a threat to Konoha.

"If you ever think about hurting anyone in this village," Kakashi declared, his grip tightening around his sword, "I will cut you into pieces."

From his office, Hiruzen Sarutobi watched the encounter through his crystal ball, his old hands trembling slightly as he gripped the desk.

Then—

A kunai fell from the sky.

It landed right in front of Kakashi’s foot, embedding itself into the ground with a sharp metallic thunk.

Kakashi’s breath hitched.

He recognized that shape instantly.

A three-pronged kunai.

A long handle.

A seal engraved into the hilt.

It was a kunai that only one man had ever wielded.

Kakashi’s throat went dry. "Impossible…"

His hands shook slightly as he bent down, fingers grazing the cool metal.

Could it be…?

Could it really be…?

Just as his fingertips touched the kunai—

FLASH!

A brilliant streak of yellow light exploded in front of him, and before Kakashi could react—

Something struck him in the stomach.

"GHHK!"

The force of the impact sent him flying backward, his body twisting through the air before he crashed against the ground several meters away.

His katana clattered against the stone, sliding to a stop.

The ANBU moved immediately, their blades flashing as they surrounded Hari Pottaru from all sides.

But Hari hadn’t moved.

He was still sitting.

Still calm.

Still untouched.

And where Kakashi had been standing just seconds ago…

There was a new figure.

A boy.

A boy with wild golden hair, bright blue eyes, and a red cloak draped over his back.

He was grinning, mischief dancing in his expression as he placed his hands on his hips.

And then—

He laughed.

"Oi! Don't point your swords at Uncle Hari, dattebayo!"

The entire courtyard went silent.

Kakashi, still groaning from the impact, pushed himself up, his Sharingan spinning wildly as he stared at the boy.

The ANBU hesitated, their eyes wide beneath their masks.

Even Hiruzen, watching from his office, leaned forward, his aged fingers gripping the edge of his desk.

Because everyone recognized him.

Everyone knew who he looked like.

A young boy, with golden hair and a fox-like grin.

A boy who had just moved at speeds that defied logic.

A boy who, for just a moment, had moved with the same brilliance as—

Minato Namikaze.

Kakashi felt his blood turn cold.

His hands clenched into tight fists.

"Naruto…?"