Konoha: The Honored One

The afternoon sun cast its golden rays over the Hokage's office rooftop, the light doing little to lift the somber mood among the gathered shinobi. Standing at the center of the assembly, Tsunade's voice carried a heavy weight as she delivered the devastating news:

"Sarutobi Asuma met two members of the Akatsuki while on a mission. As of now, it's confirmed… Asuma is dead."

The air froze, and for a moment, the world seemed to halt. A low murmur swept through the assembled Jonin. Faces ranged from shock to denial, disbelief etched into every line.

Gojo stood silently in the crowd, his white hair catching the sunlight like a beacon. His hands were shoved casually into his pockets, and though his eyes were covered by his signature sunglasses, his face betrayed nothing.

Asuma… gone? he thought, the words lingering in his mind like a bad punchline to an unfunny joke.

Gojo's thoughts ran rampant, a mix of calculated detachment and genuine concern. That man still owed me dinner. A good one too. Always the "next paycheck" excuse. Well, guess that tab's never getting paid now. His jaw tightened under the nonchalant mask he wore.

Tsunade's voice cracked slightly, a rare vulnerability piercing her usual iron-clad demeanor. "Asuma was one of our best. The mission was classified as B-rank, well within his capabilities. No one anticipated… this."

The mention of the Akatsuki sent ripples through the crowd. Murmurs grew louder.

"What kind of monsters are they?" a Jonin whispered.

"They've taken out Elite Jonin before," another muttered grimly.

Gojo suppressed a sigh, his thoughts tinged with irony. Monsters? Sure. But even monsters are just people with bad manners and even worse hobbies.

A sniffle broke through the murmurs. Akimichi Chōji, kneeling on the ground, clutched at the earth as though it could anchor his sorrow. His tears flowed freely, streaking his cheeks with trails of grief. "If… if I hadn't been caught… Mr. Asuma wouldn't have…"

Yamanaka Ino knelt beside him, her face pale and drawn. "Chōji, stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault." Her voice trembled, barely masking the agony she felt.

Even Nara Shikamaru, who usually carried an air of unshakable calm, was visibly tense. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white. Yet, when he stepped forward to address Tsunade, his voice was steady.

"Hokage-sama," Shikamaru began, his tone professional, but the slight quiver in his words betrayed the storm within. "Based on Asuma-sensei's last report, the two Akatsuki members were Hidan and Kakuzu. Hidan possesses a strange ability—it seems to be tied to some kind of ritual, allowing him to inflict the same injuries he suffers onto his target. And he's… immortal."

Gasps echoed across the rooftop.

"Immortal?" Kurenai whispered, her hand instinctively brushing her still-flat stomach. Her connection to Asuma made the words cut deeper.

Gojo's head tilted ever so slightly, the term immortal piquing his curiosity. Immortal? Sounds more like an unpaid bill I've got no interest in handling.

Tsunade's voice broke through the haze of speculation. "And what of Kakuzu? Did Asuma mention anything about his abilities?"

Shikamaru shook his head. "Nothing specific. Asuma-sensei said Kakuzu stayed back during most of the fight, but he's clearly just as dangerous."

A heavy silence followed. Gojo tapped his finger idly against the railing, letting the tension simmer. Finally, he thought, This village is going to need a serious upgrade in tactics if these clowns are the new norm.

The Hokage drew in a deep breath, regaining her composure. Her voice was commanding as she issued her orders. "From now on, all teams are to avoid engaging the Akatsuki without explicit orders. Report sightings immediately. I want their every move tracked. We cannot allow them to continue unchecked."

"Understood." The assembled Jonin echoed the affirmation, their voices solemn.

As the crowd began to disperse, Gojo lingered near the railing, his thoughts turning more reflective. The Akatsuki… a group of overachievers with a god complex. Doesn't get more fun than this, does it?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Shikamaru slipping away. The younger ninja's usually lazy demeanor was replaced with a cold determination. Gojo decided it was time to break his silence.

He appeared beside Shikamaru without warning, leaning against the railing. "Kid, you're gripping that lighter like it owes you money."

Shikamaru startled but quickly schooled his expression. "Gojo-sensei."

Gojo tilted his head, his voice dropping slightly. "You're holding up well, all things considered. But let's not pretend you're fine."

The younger ninja frowned but didn't respond immediately. Finally, he said, "There's no time to fall apart. Asuma-sensei wouldn't want that."

Gojo hummed in acknowledgment. "Smart. Life's too short to waste on melodrama. But you're not fooling me. Grieve, Shikamaru. It's a weakness, sure, but it's also your strength. That's what makes you human."

Shikamaru's hand tightened around the lighter as he met Gojo's concealed gaze. "I'll mourn him in my own way. But for now, there's work to do."

Gojo smirked. "Fair enough. But don't go getting yourself killed. You're too young for that."

Shikamaru turned to leave but hesitated. "Sensei, would you… help us? I know you don't work for free, but—"

Gojo raised a hand, cutting him off. "Relax, kid. Consider this one on the house. Let's just say I've got a vested interest in keeping this village in one piece. Plus, I'm curious about this so-called immortal."

Shikamaru nodded, his lips tightening into a thin line. "Thank you."

As Shikamaru walked away, Gojo leaned back against the railing, letting out a small sigh. His thoughts wandered again, more serious now. Asuma… you always were too noble for your own good. Rest easy, old friend. I'll make sure your kids grow into something you'd be proud of.

On the other side of the rooftop, Tsunade stood silently, watching the scene unfold. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. "You're not as aloof as you pretend to be, Gojo," she murmured.

Gojo's gaze flickered toward her briefly, as if he'd heard her. His smirk returned, but he said nothing. The weight of the moment was enough for now.