God Damn It, Kyuubi!

Oh, the irony. Can Minato retch now?

When it came to the news that a hundred-percent confirmed deceased shinobi suddenly reappearing, other hidden villages would've scoffed and dismissed the news as 'fake'.

But Konoha reacted differently.

They had the Nidaime. They had multiple scrolls of forbidden jutsu written by the Nidaime.

They were aware of Edo Tensei.

Sarutobi nibbled on his pipe, albeit a bit subtle to not show his fraying nerves to his shinobi.

He had a headache again.

"Sakumo is back, you say? And he is the Ghost?" the Sandaime asked, eyes narrowing in the direction of his elite scout team. "Are you sure?"

Shikaku flinched under that sharp scrutinising gaze. "I couldn't confirm it with his mask on," he admitted, recalling the blank faceless mask hidden under a heavy dark hood. "But the hood slipped down when we engaged him. It was the Hatake's silver hair, sir."

Sarutobi felt his breath hitched in his throat.

If Sakumo was resurrected as the Ghost—who has shown no alliance to any village whenever he interfered in the battlefield—then Konoha might be in danger.

They have not been kind to the man at all when he was alive—driving him to his suicide through heartless scorns and blames. The whole village was guilty of triggering Sakumo's suicide, including the people whom he had chosen to save instead of completing his mission.

If Sakumo returned with vengeance in his mind...

Well, Konoha was kinda screwed over.

Spirit of Peace.

The civilians have been whispering that name since the past three weeks. Stories of a cloaked shadow wearing faceless mask were spread across the globe—the unknown shadow that has been interfering with the war since these past three weeks.

The thing was a ghost.

Everything was useless against the spirit. Every kunai phased through its body. Paper bombs would explode, and the spirit would still stand there, cloak billowing as if the explosion didn't bother it at all. The spirit moved like the wind, phasing through everything like untouchable air, only to solidify when it landed a blow at the back of the neck that would knock its victim unconscious.

Every fight that occurred since the past three weeks would end up with both opposing sides calling in retreats as they hauled the unconscious (but relatively unharmed and still so very alive) shinobi back home to their respective village.

The five hidden villages suffered a mix emotion of bewilderment and anger.

The civilians, on the other hand, hailed the spirit as one of the deities that protected their people.

Now that Shikaku came with a report that the hailed spirit was actually one of Konoha's deceased shinobi whom Sarutobi has personally thought was horribly wronged by the village, he didn't really feel comfortable to know that it was running loose out there.

Inoichi clicked his tongue in that unnerving contemplating manner he used to do when he was worrying over something, thus successfully attracting Sarutobi's attention towards him.

"He gave a peculiar response when we addressed him as 'Sakumo', sir," he eventually added, lips pursed. "Though, I might say that something didn't really add up."

"Oh?" Sarutobi cocked an eyebrow.

"He was...," Inoichi trailed, pale blue eyes trailing to exchange a glance with his teammate. "Odd."