Chapter Text
October 26th – January 13th
The festival to mark the end of the rice harvest was small that year, lacking many of the bells and whistles of previous years. It only made sense for people to hold their money and food tight in tough times. Still, people flooded the streets, watching festival dances and street performances. Freed from end of term tests, children decompressed. Perhaps more festival garb was reused or handed down, but they were happy.
The months between the rice harvest festival and the winter festival passed as if in a blur. The weather became colder, the need for warm layers more and more apparent.
Naruto and Akitsu had Seven River Style meetings every morning, Akitsu had an internship at the hospital two days a week after school to learn, among other things, to form medical chakra. The group of friends spent much time preparing for the play assigned to them at the end of last school year, with much help from Sanehiro O-jiisan. They had started being taught the henge, and the Book club practiced regularly under Hinata’s Byakugan to perfect the jutsu. A cold snap occurred, and finally, the food stalls opened and paper decorations were strung up. Uchiha Fugaku ensured that the pond with the chash*tsu was iced over and smooth, and skaters once again circled around it laughing.
Families spent time huddled under the kotatsu with warm food and drink, while O-bāsan recycled clothing and made quilts. The Book Club made preparations for their big night.
***
Danzō paced back and forth in his underground office, muttering angrily. Sai stood at attention, awaiting orders. “Everything was going so well until two years ago. I was respected by the ignorant, and feared by the wise. Now women with children glare at me in the streets, and the clans have grown belligerent and unruly.” I want you watching the Jinchūriki’s friends whenever possible.” Sai bowed, and left the office. Danzō continued his frenetic pacing. He had lost too many agents as of late to be spending much time focusing on that child. If things were different, he would spend time and resources to draw him to his side, but at the moment, running damage control on their mysterious assailant, and Lady Mikoto’s schemes was of higher priority.
***
Iruka and the curriculum had required each member of the class to act in a play. Akitsu had gathered together the clan children, to do the play he had written regarding the naming of the Sandaime. Akitsu had requested he be allowed to use the auditorium on a Friday night. Knowing where his bread was buttered, the principal had agreed. Akitsu had convinced some upperclassmen to play music beforehand. Presumably the draw was playing for the clan heads who would come. The kids had practiced their calligraphy on formal invitations to each other’s parents. Also invited were the Kurama and the Shimura. All the clans of the Compact, actually. The kids had gone to hours of work, painting backdrops. A friend of Akitsu’s had agreed to run lights. He was one of the NMC Jōnin’s … friends maybe? Iruka was impressed with the group. He had started teaching them the Henge at the start of the year, and they had learned it in record time. He suspected help from older siblings, or perhaps parents.
At 7:30, they opened the doors for the invitees, and they filed in, clothed in fine silks and jewellery and weapons. There were little paper tags designating seating as set up by the children, and each clan found their seats. Iruka was aware of rather a lot of murmuring behind the doors to the gathering area. Then, in filed more people, and more. Haruno’s parents. The school Librarian. Maito Guy. Students from older years and their parents. Half the Hokage’s secretarial pool. Enma, the Monkey King. Kakashi. Hayate Gekko. Anko. The principal of the civilian school. Some of the students saw some of the non mission capable Jōnin with mobility issues come in. Maito Guy gave up his seat to one, and went to crouch on one of the walls, clinging to it with his chakra. Other’s followed suit.
A threatening martial theme was struck by the musicians in the pit, with drums and clashes of cymbals. Iruka became aware of a smell of hot metal, and smoke. The crowd which had settled a bit, became a little uneasy.
The curtain opened on an alpine scene. A majestic mountain reared behind them, a smoky scar on its flanks.
The group walked on stage. The people entering were not students in cheap costumes, but tall shinobi with scarred armour and battered weapons. Senju Tobirama was immediately recognizable, with his regal bearing, abbreviated blue dō-maru, white hair and white fur collar. His eyes burned with purpose. The crowd’s intake of breath was audible. The youth behind him in brown dō-maru was fresh faced, and unbowed by the years. Iruka noted that many did not recognize young Sarutobi Hiruzen without his kabuto or staff. Homura Mitokado was instantly recognizable as a youth because of his square jaw and wire frame glasses. Scar chinned Shimura paced around like a shifty eyed tiger, eyes calculating all. Akimichi Torifu, beefy in his cat eared hat despite being maybe fifteen, distributed water and snacks to those arriving on stage, panting. Uchiha Kagami was a boyish young girl of fifteen or so, clear eyed and hopeful. Iruka noticed Utatane Koharu in the crowd watch her fresh faced younger self in business like attire take a helping hand on stage from Kagami. The crowd was spellbound. The shinobi on stage talked at the same time, reviewing their dwindling supplies of food, explosive tags, and supplies, sharpening daggers, and attempting to formulate a plan to exit Lightning. Small gestures of reassurance passed between them, a touch or a glance.
‘They are being shown, not as titans of the age, but as worried people.’ Iruka mused. Uchiha Kagami gave a light touch to Sarutobi’s shoulder, and Danzō looked away peevishly.
Senju Tobirama, having finished his short breather sat on an irregular lump of rock, his very presence seeming to turn it into a throne, pensive. “We have slipped away from them for now, but the Kinkaku force has good trackers. We have not lost them for long.”
“Then let us prepare an ambush, and by surprise, gain advantage.” suggested Koharu Utatane. Iruka was having a hard time remembering which child was which shinobi. ‘Shino?’ he surmised.
“That plan is of great utility if our goal is spite, or vengeance, Koharu-chan.” Tobirama said. Iruka saw ‘Danzō’ agreeing with his body language. “But I worry about Konohagakure. The loss of our strength will hurt the Leaf,” he said, absentmindedly taking off the brow and cheek guard which was his hitai ate and polishing it, “but what I worry about is the leadership of the village. At home there are strong shinobi advisors and bankers and experts, but none I would trust to communicate my vision.” His pensive face, stared not at those around him, but past into infinity, at the worries of his life. Iruka had read the words of the play - several times actually - but here the stage direction seemed to be the key to excellence.
“We need a diversion, to lead their attention away, so the rest can escape.” Tobirama mused aloud.
Danzō’s gaze turned calculating, but it was but a moment for Hiruzen to marshal himself. “Send me, teacher.” he said, growing surer as he spoke. “I will find a weak spot in their encirclement. As I fight my way out, I shall convince them all we are still there. As I break through” Hiruzen began to walk in a circle among his peers.
“I shall slay the first” at this he touched Kagami’s shoulder “by fire.”
“The second,” at this he touched Utatane’s shoulder, “by poison.”
“The third;” he touched Torifu, “by crushing.”
“The fourth; by lightning.” He said touching Mitokado.
“The fifth: by water.” He said, having arrived in front of Tobirama.
Hiruzen exhaled, and his cares seemed to leave him. He walked over to Danzō. “Give my family my love, and watch over my friends, will you, Danzō?” Danzō nodded, affected. Utatane gave Sarutobi some senbon in service to his plan, which Sarutobi attached to a forearm. Iruka noticed Danzō’s forlorn look as Sarutobi began to leave to the left.
But he was blocked by Tobirama’s hand on his dō-maru. Sarutobi looked up into his Hokage’s eyes. “I am no longer worried by lack of ability to communicate or carry out my vision.” Tobirama took Utatane’s senbon from his subordinate and tucked them amongst his belongings. He took out a scroll with heavy brass caps from underneath his armour.
“Hiruzen.” He said clearly. “My most true disciple, my most faithful apprentice. I have changed my mind. I go now to set you all free of this trap. I name you Sandaime Hokage. Lead the village well and wisely.” He handed over the scroll to Hiruzen, who clasped it reflexively. “I charge the rest of you to support and sustain Sarutobi Hiruzen in his endeavors as the years pass.”
Iruka noted a spasm of feeling pass over Danzō’s features, quickly gone, before looking at the audience. Those present were heavily affected. Children’s eyes were misty, and shinobi’s eyes were grave. Maito was leaking tears that were literally wetting the floor. But Danzō.
Next to the aisle, the real Danzō stood in his seat next, eyes unseeing, face dripping with sweat, trembling, hands clenching spastically, his eyes twitching, tracking nothing.
Tobirama ruffled Sarutobi’s hair, and with a heartbreaking smile, leapt off the stage to the left.
Sarutobi used a touch of chakra to open the scroll, revealing the Hat. He sagged under its metaphorical weight for a second, before putting it on his head. The others present saluted, knee to the ground. Sarutobi put the hat back in its scroll, and slid it into the gap in his armour.
From offstage there was a crash of thunder, blasphemously loud, and Sarutobi’s expression grew steely.
“Formation C.” he said. “South by southwest, towards the river. Quiet and quick. Let us not waste the opportunity we have been given.” The rest of the cast leap offstage to the right.
The crowd began clapping, almost drowning out Danzō Shimura’s wordless howling. Iruka watched with horror as Shimura moved unseeing up the aisle, tripping on an old woman’s walker, stumbling drunkenly to his feet, before pinballing up the exit like a madman before throwing up in the vestibule.
The crowd clapped, ebullient Inuzuka whistling and stomping their feet. The cast returned to take a bow, and a photographer began to snap photos of the cast as they smiled and bowed. The cast took moving into the crowd to greet parents and friends. Iruka joined them.
***
Sai, in the form of a young child in the crowd, watched amazed. He had been aware of the play, and even seen the text, but he had not imagined the impact it could have. There was a difference between telling a story and bringing it to life. He could smell the hot metal and smoke in the air, and it only added to the ambiance, practically drawing you into the scene. It was an interesting decision to omit the actual battle from the play, focusing instead on the dialogue between Tobirama and his students and guards, like that discussion was the defining moment that Tobirama used to choose his successor. Truly, the name “Passing of the Torch” could not be more apt.
What’s more, seven students, a lighting expert, and a complacent school administration had managed to send his inviolate leader into a war flashback so strong he stumbled out of the room and threw up. Sai knew from his stalking of Akitsu that he was an excellent storyteller, but this performance went beyond anything he had done before. Why fight a war when you can change peoples minds. Sai laughed, as a picture was taken of the unhenged Kyuubi container handing the prop scroll to still henged Senju Tobirama. Robbed of context, It would look like the Uzumaki was his designated disciple. Not particularly subtle, that. Here was a leader worth following.
***
Danzō kneeled in the bathroom, knuckles white around the rim of the toilet bowl. He gagged again, the taste of bile rising up at the back of his throat, an acidic burn that caused him to cough. He breathed in great heaves, trying to collect himself. The production had been so lifelike, so real; the smell of smoke and hot metal so familiar and haunting. It dragged him back into his memories. The sound of fake lightning rang in tandem with the sounds in his head, of the far off battle that their Hokage went into to die.
He gritted his teeth, spitting into the bowl, trying to rid himself of the lingering taste in his mouth. That depiction of him was wrong. It painted Sarutobi as something exemplary, something worthy of the hat. If Danzō had been given even a half second more, he would have been the one offering to sacrifice himself for the others. He would have. He proved it. He sacrificed himself every day for the village. Who else would have what it takes to do what is necessary to protect the village? ROOT was necessary, and without it Konohagakure would fall under the weight of its ‘kindness’ and ‘mercy’, or become weak and pathetic. They could only carry forth the Will of Fire if they remained the strongest hidden village, if no other was their equal. Whoever wrote this thing had to be stopped.
***
Mikoto watched the retreating back of Shimura Danzō as he stumbled off down the hallway, a speck of vomit on his robe. She had had her Sharingan on for the whole performance, and she ended up catching that sight in her memory as well. “Fugaku dear” she tapped her husband on the shoulder and stood up from her chair, keeping her eyes peeled on the exit to the Auditorium, “I’m going to go see Sasuke for a second.” she furrowed her brows, “And please prepare for guests, at least five.” He nodded, gaze flicking back to the spot Danzō disappeared from. She had expected something like this would happen for a while now. Danzō had been slipping, and was so close to breaking she could see the cracks. The Uchiha Clan was ready for the inevitable fallout.
Mikoto casually stood up, walking up the side of the auditorium and into the wings of the stage. She quickly found her son and his friends, first congratulating him on a job well done. The play had been an outstanding performance, and no amount of crisis would stop her from telling Sasuke that. She clapped her hands, smiling gently. “How about to celebrate, you all have a sleepover at my place!” They grew increasingly excited, Kiba and Chōji especially. It was unusual to see them so wrapped up in the groups activities, but it was good to see Sasuke branching out. She wrote out hasty messages on pieces of paper, handing out one to each child. “Please bring these invitations to your parents in the crowd so they may give permission and know of your whereabouts.”
***
Tsume raised a brow at the flowery words, and the hidden message within. The message was roughly done, a common Konoha code, but it seemed to be made in a hurry, so she could forgive that. Uchiha-sama seemed to think that the kids were in trouble, and wanted to have them bunker down at the Uchiha compound. Tsume scrawled a hasty response on the back of the paper. If she was going to entrust her child to another Clan, she at least wanted to know the situation.
***
Hyūga Hiashi’s eyes narrowed on the frankly entirely unsubtle warning. He considered it for a few seconds. His clan was strong enough to protect their heir, but… it would be convenient to have the heirs all in one place. That would mean that if there was an issue he could work on taking down the problem without constantly having to worry about Hinata. He sent her back to Uchiha-sama with a cold congratulations. He was of course proud of her accomplishments. It only made sense that his daughter took up the role of Senju Tobirama himself. After she left, he motioned to his personal retainer. He dropped down from the ceiling, landing next to him in a crouch and straightening up with a salute. Hiashi whispered in his ear: “Collect ten Hyūga Jōnin and tell them to report to Uchiha-sama at the gates of the Uchiha compound. Three of them are to be added to Hinata-hime’s guard, and the rest are to join in on patrols of the Uchiha compound.” The retainer bowed, and jumped away.
***
Chōza gave his son a great big bear hug, leaving aside the letter for the moment. “Chōji, I’m so proud of you. You represented our clan wonderfully, and I’m sure Torifu Oji-san would be proud.” Chōji teared up, burying his face into Chōza’s chest. Chōza patted him on the back, writing his response underneath Mikoto-sama’s message, and sending him off to join his friends. He laid a hand on Chouka’s forehead. His daughter was still small, and had to rely on them to protect her. He kissed her forehead, and turned to his wife. “Chieko, I think we should retire early. It’s looking to be a stormy night.”
***
Aburame Shibi folded the paper and handed it back to Shino. He praised him on his excellent performance, and gently ran his hand through Shino’s hair. Shino quirked an eyebrow up, noticing the foreign kikachu settle on his hair follicles. He schooled his expression, and turned to go after his friends. Shibi sent a kikachu to his second in command, tapping out a message in bursts of chakra, telling him to tag anyone wearing a henge. It never hurt to be careful. His glasses hid his sharpening gaze. He would not fail his son. Not like he failed Torune. There had been so little left after his rinkaichu had run out of control and eaten him alive. Shibi still felt the grief of letting his good friend’s son down. The harsh truth was, that after Shikuro-san’s death, there was no one who knew how to control the rinkaichu properly. He exited the Academy at a sedate walk, and then shunshinned away to the Aburame compound.
***
January 15th
Mikoto and Fugaku walked with the children to the Uchiha Compound, a rather long one due to it’s distance from the village centre. As they reached the gates, Fugaku split off to take command of the home guard and call in off duty Uchiha to flesh out their patrols. He was pleasantly surprised to find seven Hyūga Jōnin awaiting orders at the front gates. The two clans had experimented with pairing Hyūga and Uchiha on missions to great success, but had yet to do something so brave as send shinobi to patrol each other’s compounds. He greeted them, thanking them for their service. They gave brief pleasantries, before receiving their orders, and joining the circuit.
Meanwhile, Mikoto had ushered her charges into the house, settling them in the living room under the kotatsu. She set them up with warm mugs and then walked up to a piece of decorative fuinjutsu art hung on the wall, pushing some chakra into it. It lit up, glowing a bright blue, and the house was covered by a thin blue sheen. She tapped a seal cleverly etched into the floor underneath the carpet, and a section of the floor opened up, revealing a staircase descending into the darkness. If her charges weren’t wary before, they were now.
Hinata put her mug down, the gentle ‘clink’ loud in the silence of the room. She looked at Mikoto, eyes calculating. “Mikoto-sama” she said, “Before I or my friends follow you down that staircase, I need you to explain to me exactly what is going on.” The other children rallied around her, Kiba oddly quiet, seeming to take cues from Hinata. Perhaps he could smell Mikoto’s worry.
She sat in seiza next to them, staring Hinata in the eye. “I’m afraid that with your play, you may have upset a very important man.” She looked at them all one by one. “The paper I wrote to your parents contained a basic warning, as well as the suggestion to have all of you bunker down at the Uchiha compound. Below your feet is a literal bunker. We can safely spend the rest of the festival there.”
Hinata considered her story, and then nodded, draining her mug and following Mikoto to the top of the staircase. They all followed suit.
***
January 17th
Mikoto and Fugaku entered the Council room, finding their places at the oval table. It was a rectangular room, the only door opening onto one long side of the meeting table. They were soon joined by Chōza. The other clan’s representatives filed in as the meeting came closer to starting. This was one of the monthly meetings between the Hokage, the clans, and civilian advisors. Despite hunkering down, they could not miss such an important event, and so they had left the kids under the supervision of Itachi and Shisui. They had spent the last three days studying and playing training games, but were quickly growing bored. Mikoto was still wary of Danzō’s retribution. He had not been very stable lately. She sat at the right hand of where the Hokage would sit, to take the minutes of the meeting.
Finally, Sarutobi and Danzō entered the room, taking their seats at the opposite heads of the table. It was presumptuous for a man with no true authority within the governance of the village to hold himself in such high esteem, undermining the power of their Hokage, and even more unacceptable for Hiruzen to allow his power to be diluted.
The meeting opened on the subject of the quarterly income, and moved on to methods of rationing. Despite the goods regained from Koyanagi Kikunojo, food was tight, and they would have to be careful about it. As they were closing that topic, Danzō called the attention of the meeting to bring up his own issue. “I would like to talk about the young man who wrote the play shown at the Academy earlier this week.”
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow in question. “Yes, what about it? I did not see it myself, but I heard it was a resounding success.”
Danzō’s face scrunched up in distaste, evident even under his bandages. “It was a politically sensitive subject, and I would see that the author of it be dissuaded from similar ventures in the future.”
If he was trying to hide his feelings about the boy, he was doing so poorly. Before she could speak up in defense of Akitsu, Hiashi of all people echoed her thoughts. “Oh come now, it was a presentation on our history. Besides, have we not appeased Kumo enough? Do we need to censor anyone speaking ill of them?” The sneer was audible in his voice. Everyone at the table sucked in a sharp breath, minds calling back to the last time they had skirted war with Kumo.
Danzō was growing visibly frustrated, a rebuke on his tongue, when Mikoto inserted herself into the conversation. “I do not believe that this topic was on the agenda for today. Let us move on to the recent educational decrees.” There was a flurry of noise from outside, the seals silencing the conversations in the meeting room from the outside not working in the other direction. Suddenly the door flung open, and none other than Senju Tsunade burst in. Many people jumped up from their seats, most notably Sarutobi and Danzō. In under a fraction of a second Tsunade appeared in front of Danzō, her fist already rocketing forward, and punched him in the head. As he leaned back, his head became pinned between the wall and her fist. His cranium deformed and broke, as the wall behind him shattered, the room becoming open to the air on one side. Danzo’s headless body had ragdolled out into the void, landing on the lawn of the Administrative building.
Masked ANBU guards appeared to defend the Hokage, weapons drawn as all councillors stood up at their seats. Tsunade flicked the brain matter off of her hand and forearm, and took up his seat at the table.
She crossed her arms, uncaring of her bloody clothing. “I charge councillor Shimura Danzō with line theft, and Hiruzen Sarutobi as an accomplice.”
Behind her, four stories down, the arm of the former Councillor began to twist and bulge, struggling out of its bandages, as pillar of writhing wood rose into view, a leafy, ancient looking gnarled tree.
***
One Week Later
Nara Shikaku sat behind his desk while Maito Gai stood in front of it at parade rest. “Maito-san, I have questions about your conduct last week.”
“Yes Commander.” The enthusiastic shinobi replied, full of confidence and vigor.
“Senju Tsunade showed up at the front entrance to the civic building last Tuesday. You were on guard duty, weren’t you?”
“The commander indeed has correct information! I was happy to serve in that capacity.” he replied loudly.
“How did this happen?” Shikaku asked. Gai seemed a little confused.
“Missions are assigned by the mission desk, Commander-san. Shinobi not on missions may request specific duties, but irrespective of their requests they may be assigned at any station. I have this month been assigned hospital guard, front desk guard, perimeter duties, front gate guard, and filing duties. Though we all have specialities, we may be assigned any duties. I think that the filing duty may have been caused by my annoying Hokage-sama with a question two weeks ago.”
The Nara Commander sighed, the burden of his years heavy upon him. “Why did you grant access to Senju Tsunade?”
Guy looked perplexed. “Because she is the head of one of Konoha’s founding clans?” he said his voice rising like a child asked a particularly stupid question. “Part of guarding the Civic building is familiarizing yourself with the schedules of the six meeting rooms, so as to be able to direct traffic to each correctly.” Here he leaned forward to invite confidence. “Older people, and a few young ones, often get confused as to where they are going, and even go to the wrong building, often. Konoha Civic has thirty four meeting rooms total, including the ones in the Academy. Having perused the list, I was aware of the quarterly meeting of Clan heads with the Hokage. Senju Tsunade showed up, wearing her hitai-ate, and presented her Shinobi ID card. I took her signature, and informed her where the council was being held.” He paused. “May I speak freely sir?”
“Yes.” responded Shikaku.
“Although she has not shown up to a meeting, nor even been in the village, Tsunade-sama never slashed her hitai-ate, and no declaration of her being a missing-nin has occurred. My conclusion was that Sarutobi-sama dearly wished her to return one day. I have done D-ranks maintaining the Senju properties paid for by the Village. Today was that awaited day.”
“You punched an ANBU through a wall!” the commander said, roughly.
“I struck a four foot tall person in an animal mask who attempted to assassinate a Clan head. We had been warned last year about Konohagakure seals being duplicated, and to not accept politically sensitive missions from any other than the Hokage’s hand while in his office. This led me to believe that someone might try to assassinate clan heads, so when it happened, I was ready.”
Gai reflected, seeming a little worried. “Are they ok?” The Nara looked at him confusedly. “The assassin, I mean.”
“They may recover partial mobility. Eventually.” The Commander sighed. “Did you know in advance Tsunade was coming?”
“No, Commander.”
***
Present
Tsunade stared down Sarutobi from across the room, her hair rustling in the wind. She whistled shrilly. Kakashi casually slouched in, unfolding a lawn chair, adding another seat at the table, and lowered himself down into it. Tsunade took up her place at the head of the table opposite Sarutobi once again.
Sarutobi bristled. “ANBU Crane, your services are not currently needed.” He gritted out.
Tsunade rolled her eyes. “Hatake Kakashi is not here in his role as ANBU, but in his role as the leader of the Hatake Clan.” Everyone around the table shifted. The last time a member of the Hatake clan had sat at the table in their role as clan leader had been when Sakumo was still alive. Some here were old enough to remember it.
Tsunade clacked her nails on the polished wooded table, impatience exuding from her every pore. “Now, how about we get back to the matter at hand. Accusations of line theft are serious business.” The clan heads in the room bristled. They had been too shocked to react before, but the suggestion of line theft got all of them on edge.
Tsunade glared, sweeping the table. “As most of you know, ROOT was a branch of ANBU’s training subdivision. It was headed up by Shimura Danzō, and during the second and third Shinobi Wars took on many illicit missions, assassinating foreign leaders, infiltrating other villages and organisations, and eliminating people who spoke out against Konoha, all missions that the village did not want to be traced back to them or tarnish their reputation. However, it soon came to light that the shinobi trained in ROOT were more loyal to Shimura Danzō himself than to the village, or the Hokage. Thus, as of five years after the Kyuubi attack, ROOT was disbanded.”
Hiashi furrowed his brow. “What does this have to do with line theft?”
Tsunade flicked her eyes to him. “I’m getting there.” She sat back in her chair. “What is not know by many, is that Danzō did not actually disband ROOT, he merely moved operations further underground. With no more supervision from the village, he grew unchecked. He filled his organization with children. The unwanted ones, forgotten by the village, or fallen between the cracks.” She paused for dramatic effect. “And with Clan children, with faked deaths, stolen from our very compounds.”
Outrage painted itself on the faces of those in the meeting room. Mikoto felt her body freeze, Fugaku stiffening beside her. The job of a Clan was to protect each member within that clan. Had she stood by when the children of her family were suffering? How many had been taken, before something was done about it?
Tsunade motioned to Kakashi. “Hatake spent a small amount of time in ROOT, enough to stop a plot from Danzō to assassinate the Hokage.” Sharp inhales rage through the room. Tsunade slapped a piece of paper down on the table. “This is a list of members of ROOT remembered by Hatake Kakashi.” She pointed out a series of names near the top of the list. “Aburame Tatsuma, Aburame Yoji, Aburame Torune.” Shibi let out a strangled gasp, hearing the name of his years dead adopted son. Tsunade skipped farther down the list. “Yamanaka Fu.” Inoichi swallowed hard, chin clenched. Tsunade landed on the bottom of the list. “Uchiha Tsugumi.”
Mikoto clenched her eyes shut, hoping to ward off the tears coming to the surface. They had failed their Clan. Tsunade barrelled on, as if this was not a shocking enough discovery on its own. “Senju Tenzō.” Shock froze the previously steaming clan heads. There had not been a Senju in the village since Tsunade took Shizune and left, leaving behind her Clan and her legacy. To think that there had been another within their walls that could have carried on the Senju legacy, and Danzō had stolen them? “Tenzō was a product of my ex teammates experiments, trying to produce a child with the Mokuton. Out of all of the children he took or made, Tenzō was the only one to survive.”
It was a chilling thought. Of course they knew of Orochimaru’s madness, and of how far he would go to discover knowledge, but his crimes had been boarded up, his labs abandoned, hoping they could forget their mistakes. It had not been a decision Mikoto had truly agreed with, she would much rather they provide each of his unfortunate victims with a peaceful rest, but she had not the political leverage to argue at the time. “Orochimaru created him out of the DNA of my grandfather, Senju Hashirama, and though his mokuton is not as strong as the First Hokage’s, he carries that power.” The room was silent. Not a pin dropped, there was nary a whisper. The Mokuton. The First Hokage had been a god among Shinobi, had been a mountain among grasslands. Some thought that his was a singular power, that would never choose another to wield it. This would affect more than just Konoha. It would spread. If other villages knew that there was another Mokuton user, they would panic, perhaps even start another war, trying to take him out before he grew in power.
“Senju Tenzō is a member of my Clan, and as his Clan Leader I will provide him with all the support and safety I can afford him.” She turned once again to glare at Sarutobi. By now she was standing up in anger. “This is why I accuse you as an accomplice of Shimura Danzō’s. You did nothing to stop his abhorrent actions. Every time he did something wrong, you looked away.” She pounded her fist on the table, fractures and cracks running down it’s length.
Sarutobi took in a deep breath, slowly placing his hands on the table, and splaying them. “I will not ignore my faults. I treated Danzō as a friend for too many years, and by the time I realized his true nature, nay, when I acknowledged it, it was too late to pry him from the foundation of our village without doing untold damage. I was afraid that by opposing him I would be dooming those we protect. Danzō knew this, and used my hesitance for conflict to his advantage, to undermine me.” He slowly lifted his hands to his head, lifting his hat off and placing it in front of him. “I could not find in myself the power to keep going, to keep resisting his games, but someone did. Someone who was able to act far more subtly then I, and undermine Danzō and his whole operation.” He turned to Mikoto. “Uchiha Mikoto, I name you as the next Hokage, the Godaime.”
Mikoto rose from her seat. She could do the easy thing and accept the hat, but she would not want to start her reign being chosen by a hokage who had failed his people so utterly. “No.” She held her head up and looked Tsunade in the eye. “Konohagakure is a covenant between clans. But if they choose me, I will serve.” She challenged Sarutobi. “The process to choose the Hokage used to be an oligarchic one, the clans within the village voting for their leader. This stopped when Senju Tobirama put that hat on your head in the fires of wartime and it has been so ever since. It is time we leave the necessity of war, and return to a time of peace.”
Tsume was the first to stand. “I vote for Uchiha Mikoto as Hokage.”
Fugaku stood next. “I vote for Uchiha Mikoto as Hokage.”
Then Chōza. “I vote for Uchiha Mikoto as Hokage.”
Shibi followed. “I vote for Uchiha Mikoto as Hokage.”
One by one, the clans of Konoha called Mikoto’s name, and asked her to serve. Finally, Tsunade stepped forth. “I vote for Uchiha Mikoto as Hokage. Thank the Kami, it’s a good thing your doing it, I wouldn’t touch that job with a ten foot pole.” Mikoto grinned. Fugaku picked up the hat, placing it on her head. It felt heavy, but she would do her best to wear it well.
Tsunade looked out the window. “What is with the f*cking tree growing from Danzō’s body?”
***
One Week Later
Shikaku continued his line of questioning. “Why did you permit Hatake Kakashi to enter the meeting room?”
Maito stared uncomprehendingly at Shikaku. The Commander was about to rephrase his question, when Gai, as if not sure if Shikaku understood what he was asking, cautiously answered. “Hatake Kakashi, head of the Hatake Clan, made an appearance at the monthly meeting of the clans, Hokage, and administrative members. He presented his hitai-ate and shinobi ID card.” There was a pause. Gai looked at him a little worriedly. “Nara-san, Are you well? Do you need something? Some water, maybe? Should I summon medical attention?”
Shikaku rubbed the bridge of his nose.
***
Present
Kakashi talked with Maito Gai, and they leapt out the new “balcony” storage scroll in hand. Kakashi stared at the body-tree, contemplating how he was going to do this, while Gai calmed a few passerby, two civilians, and some shinobi gathered by the tumult. A coded pulse of chakra spread from the rooms behind them, the message being, “Join up. Form Perimiter.” Kakashi slumped, putting the scroll down, and Henging into himself with a saw, crouching down to where the tree met Danzō’s body. It was important to seal it, before any mad scientists could get a hold of his DNA.
Mikoto, now sat at the head of the table, was about to make her first decision as Hokage. “Our first course of action should be to take charge the members of ROOT. I know that this may be difficult, as many may be loyal to Danzō even past death, but some are young enough, or loyal enough to Konoha to change more easily.” She glanced over at Sarutobi, who sat in a corner of the room on Kakashi’s pull out chair. “Most of all, we cannot allow them to pour from their base into Konoha proper and cause havoc.” She turned to eye Hiashi. “Hyūga-sama, do you think you could get your people to search for Danzō’s base with your dojutsu?” He nodded, face once more sculpted into a serene façade. “Inuzuka-sama, your nose may be necessary, and Aburame-sama, your kikachu.” They nodded as well.
Sarutobi’s pen rattled and jumped up, causing many to reach for their weapons, eyes locked on the moving stationary. With a pop and a puff of smoke, the pen unhenged, and revealed itself to be none other than Enma, the Monkey king. “I believe I can help you with that.” He proposed. “I have spent the last year and a half investigating and sabotaging ROOT operations in Konohagakure.”
This was met with murmurs among the clan heads. “I followed agents and saved their victims, stopping them from kidnapping large numbers of children. I located their base, connected to the sewers, and shat in their underground water supply.” Tsume giggled at this point. “I kidnapped some of the younger ROOT operatives and have sequestered them in the Monkey Sage Region to recover. Anything to make life as difficult for Danzō as I could without letting them know who was doing it. Sarutobi was right that untold numbers would die if a war between Konoha and ROOT were to be brought to the surface, so the only way anyone I could help is by subterfuge and guerilla warfare.” Sarutobi looked at Enma with a hurt face.
Enma shook his head. “What you knew, Danzō knew. So it was imperative that you not know.”
“Many thanks Enma-dono. Among those who wear the Leaf, your loyalty and discretion is among the highest.” the Hokage said. “Crane-san” she said looking at Kakashi. “You will be Interim Root Leader. We will assure those who are cooperative that they are taken care of and that things will improve, but there is no reason to deprive them of the structure to which they have become accustomed.” She turned to address her staunchest ally. “Akimichi Chōza. Please make up a meal suitable to take with us.”
The council looked at her confusedly.
“Rather then showing up as an invading army, we shall show up as an inspection. Crane, get out your old mask. Fetch your old friend Anteater, and get him a clipboard. Akimichi-san, how long ‘till you can have a meal for fourty ready?”
“Fourty five Minutes, Hokage-sama.” Chōza replied.
Kakashi returned with the black ribboned scroll containing the former councillor’s body. “Senju-sama, we require help from your clansman with the ROOT issue. Will tomorrow suffice for your reunion?” Tsunade nodded.
“Are you going to want me to take charge of Konoha General?” asked Tsunade, lips turned down in dread.
Mikoto stopped dead, and reached out to touch the Senju’s shoulder. “Is that really where you see yourself? In budget meetings doing personnel reports? Do you hate yourself that much?” Tsunade blinked three times.
“Not really?” Tsunade said. “But I figured, for my sins?”
“We already have competent administrative staff." Mikoto explained. "We hope you assume duties at the hospital, probably ¼ your time in surgery, and the rest teaching. We may eventually have you take an apprentice or three. Please make yourself available to the hospital now.” Mikoto turned to Enma. “Please have a clone assume the form of councilman Danzō, and walk around the village, doing Danzō things in order to muddy his time of death.” She quickly turned to him once more. “Enma-san, a map of the Root bases, please.” He nodded, sitting down to sketch one out, sending a shadow clone henged as the councilman out the front door.
“Sarutobi-sama, We shall still have need of your knowledge. Although I am sure your first instincts are to depart to your clan house and reassess, I would prefer your help in diffusing this situation. I will also need you to help legitimize my ascension tomorrow.”
Sarutobi sighed. “Yes, Hokage-sama. Here are the keys to the desk. Let me key you into the defenses, and show you where the traps are.”
Mikoto turned to Nara Shikaku. “When I am back, we will formulate a plan of entry.”
***
Mikoto stood at the entrance of the main tunnel connecting the sewers to the ROOT base, dressed in the full regalia of her new station. The red and white Hokage hat, with the word for fire written upon it, and white cloth hanging down around her ears. She wore a simple white robe. To her right stood Kakashi in his ANBU uniform and Hound mask, a storage scroll on his hip, and at attention. To her left stood ANBU Weasel, clipboard in hand.
All was silent as they walked through the tunnels, turning left or right according to Enma’s directions. Finally, they arrived at the main ROOT facility, where they were trained and housed. The mess hall was empty, both of people and of chairs, the occasional forgotten ration bar littering the floor. They made their was to the dormitory area, the click clacking of their shoes purposefully loud on the concrete floor. They came to the first door. Mikoto knocked. “This is Uchiha Mikoto, the Godaime Hokage. As part of the handover of leadership we will be conducting an inspection of this facility. Stand at attention for your new ROOT Commander.”
Hatake Kakashi stepped forward, pushing the door open, only to be met with resistance. There was silence on the other side, and then a flurry of activity, scraping sounds emanating from the closed door. A few seconds later, the door was opened by a slender man in an ANBU mask, an otter. He snapped to attention, giving the trio a salute, and stepping aside so they could enter. The room was an absolute mess. It seemed that the doors had been previously blocked by one of the bunk beds, because it was hastily shoved back into its proper space, mattress stacked against a wall, and covers twisted into ropes. The other three bunk beds in the room were placed as to provide cover in case of an assault, and a range of weapons were spread out on one mattress. Mikoto could see seven other masked individuals other than the one that had granted them entrance arrayed behind the bunk bed fortress.
This takeover had to go smoothly, and the only way she could see that happening was if they played into the agent’s sense of normalcy. In this case, being stern and disciplined would only set them at ease. She turned to the apparent leader of the group, raising one eyebrow. “What kind of dormitory is this? Bunk beds out of place, bedding thrown about the room? I expect better from the most disciplined division in Konoha.” She eyed the room again, putting on a stern look. “The mess hall will open in thirty minutes. I expect this room to be up to regulation standard by then, and for all of you to be lined up by squads in the mess hall in uniform at that time.” She turned on her heel and walked down to the next door in the hall. This was going to take a long time.
