Naruto: Reborn with the Template System

Author Note:

Here's the BONUS CHAPTER as promised—thanks for the support, and let's keep this energy going!

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"Can't we send Jiraiya instead?"

Guts broke the silence just as White Fang was preparing to lead an elite squad to reinforce Orochimaru on the battlefield near the Land of Earth.

Currently, Konoha had two Kage-level shinobi stationed in the village: the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, and one of the Legendary Sannin, Jiraiya. As for Danzo—well, his strength had deteriorated to the point of being nearly irrelevant.

Not to mention, asking Danzo for help was like asking the sky to rain gold, pointless and exasperating.

Frankly, Guts found the entire strategy laughable. Sacrificing one front to patch another? Stupid.

He didn't particularly care about the village's fate, but life in Konoha was at least comfortable. It was better than dying for someone else's cause.

White Fang shook his head. "We can't risk it. The Third Kazekage has gone missing, and the Sand Village is in political turmoil."

"Chiyo's faction always opposed the alliance with us, and without the Kazekage's stabilizing influence, they're stirring things up again."

He paused, scanning a map on the table. "And Mist... while they've remained quiet so far, it's dangerous to assume they'll stay that way. If they make a move, their first target will be the Land of Fire."

"So you're keeping two Kage-levels in the village just in case," Guts concluded, tapping his fingers on the table. "Makes sense... doesn't mean I have to like it."

White Fang gave a tired nod. "Exactly. We're stretched thin, and the village must remain defensible. I hate this as much as you do."

Before leaving, White Fang clapped a hand on Guts's shoulder, and said with a gentle smile.

"I'm leaving this front to you. We've been holding an advantage, but without me, it might not last. Stay sharp, don't try to be a hero."

"And lastly, Don't Die."

Guts didn't reply. He watched in silence as White Fang departed, disappearing into the distance like a ghost into the mist.

And just like that, command of the northern front fell to him.

Guts wasted no time. The moment White Fang was gone, he sent word to summon reinforcements: his own student, Uchiha Shisui, and a contingent of Chūnin-level shinobi still stationed in Konoha. It wasn't much, but it was what he had.

Shisui, despite being only six years old and not yet having awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan, was already gaining notoriety by the end of the Third Ninja War. Guts had personally accelerated his advancement.

About a week later, Shisui arrived at the front with a small unit, no more than a few hundred Chūnin.

That was all Sarutobi Hiruzen would allow.

Everything else was to be held back to protect the village.

Guts welcomed him with a crooked grin. "Six years old, and already marching to the battlefield. That's something to brag about."

Shisui, dressed in the traditional black Uchiha robes, raised his hand and made a peace sign. "Actually, I turned seven last month."

"Well, congrats. My only request? Don't die."

Guts kicked his boots up onto the desk, crushing some important-looking documents beneath them. He didn't even glance down.

Shisui frowned at the casual disrespect, but said nothing.

What he didn't realize at the time was that, from this point on, he'd be the one shouldering all of Guts's bureaucratic work. Paperwork, logistics, camp disputes—everything.

Ten days later, the inevitable happened.

News of White Fang's departure reached the Third Raikage.

And without hesitation, the Cloud Shinobi launched an all-out offensive.

They came in full force, so aggressive it could only be described as "charging out of the nest."

Before, the battlefield had a strange equilibrium. Guts would duel the Third Raikage, while White Fang handled Ay (the future Fourth Raikage) and Killer Bee.

But now, Guts had to face all three Kage-level shinobi alone.

Even with help from the Hyuga, Sarutobi, and other clan Jōnin, the balance tipped.

The ground Konoha had gained was slowly clawed back by the enemy.

This was the brutal reality of war, the value of a single Kage-level shinobi could change the tide.

Thankfully, Killer Bee still hadn't fully mastered the Eight-Tails, so he couldn't go all out. That gave Guts some breathing room.

Still, the fact that Guts was holding back three monsters left the Cloud Shinobi commanders dumbfounded.

He was too damn hard to deal with.

Two months passed.

Then, the worst news arrived.

White Fang had fallen. (PS: RIP)

Rock Shinobi had launched a surprise offensive on his unit. In order to buy time for the retreat of his forces,including his son, Kakashi, White Fang had made a desperate stand.

He fought alone against ten thousand Rock Shinobi.

For two days and two nights, he held the line.

And then, his body finally gave out.

He died standing, sword in hand.

His troops managed to escape thanks to his sacrifice and were now recuperating in a small village on the border of the Land of Fire.

When the report reached Guts, he stared at the message for a long time.

Silent.

Unmoving.

Burning the scroll, he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

This… this was supposed to be the death of the Third Raikage. Not him. Not now.

Six years ago, Guts had managed to stop Danzo from framing White Fang. He had prevented his suicide. Changed history.

And still… fate had caught up.

This ending, while more honorable than the original, still stung.

They hadn't been best friends, but White Fang had been a comrade. An elder who treated him with surprising warmth despite their age difference. A mentor, even.

For the first time in this new life, Guts felt the weight of losing someone close.

He clenched his fist.

Being a Reincarnator didn't mean he could change everything.

Guts is starting to feel the cruel bite of this world's reality. Even with foreknowledge and strength, some fates are just too heavy to rewrite.

"Sensei? Are you alright?"

Shisui's voice broke through the haze. The boy had entered without knocking, concern etched on his face. His eyes lingered on the charred remains of the letter.

Guts let out a breath and smirked faintly. "What could possibly be wrong?"

He leaned back further in his chair, arms behind his head.

"It's just… uncomfortable, that's all."

But the weight in his chest said otherwise.

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