I stood there frozen, staring at Danzo's hand. It looked welcoming at first glance, but all I could see were rivers of blood behind it, darkness pooling around his fingers like ink in water. And behind that darkness, I saw something that horrified me most, myself. My old self. I saw my empty eyes staring back at me, eyes stripped of every flicker of light or joy, eyes that knew nothing but bloodlust and anger. My own reflection peeking through a curtain of blood.
I closed my eyes tight, as if shutting them could shove that image back into the pit it crawled out from. I forced my voice to come out steady. "May I take some time to think about this, Elder Danzo?"
I heard nothing. When I opened my eyes again, Danzo's steady gaze pinned me in place like a knife at my throat. He sat on the bench with his fingers laced beneath his chin, elbows resting on his knees as he spoke in that same quiet, patient tone.
"You are falling into the same trap as Hiruzen."
His words made my chest tighten. I didn't know exactly what he meant, but he didn't wait for me to ask.
"You hesitate. You think and think until your chance slips through your fingers. Hiruzen does the same. He ponders and forgives, while the ones who spill our blood sharpen their blades for next time."
Danzo's fingers flexed, knuckles pale against weathered skin. He leaned back, eyes locked on mine, the silence pressing in around us.
"Then our enemies learn there is no price for cutting into Konoha. More blood spills, until we become soft enough for the wolves to come in and feast."
Every word stung like acid in my ears. He wasn't wrong about Hiruzen's hesitations or how long it might take to find Daiken's killers. Each day that passed without revenge made Daiken's death feel like a wasted sacrifice.
My fists clenched tight, but fear clawed back up before I could hold onto the anger. ROOT was a prison, not just for your body but for everything that made you yourself. Losing who I was, the way I think, the small pieces of me I've built in this new life, that terrified me more than death itself. I didn't want to become that hollow-eyed man again. I knew the shadows worked. I knew how effective they were. I'd been swallowed by them before. But here, I had a chance to walk my a different path and make my own choices.
Danzo didn't rush me. He sat there like a statue carved from stone, eyes narrowed, watching every twitch of my face. The fog swirled around us, cutting the park off from the rest of the waking world. I felt trapped in that circle, each thought crashing into the next until they all tangled up and left me standing there with nothing but the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Then Danzo's eyes flicked to the side, and for the first time since he stepped out of the mist, a flicker of irritation tightened his jaw. The fog to my left rippled, then tore apart as if a hole had been carved right through it.
A tall shinobi stepped through first, shoulders squared like a man used to standing guard rather than charging into battle. He was blond, his skin bronzed from long hours patrolling under the sun. His build was solid but not massive, more like coiled rope than raw bulk, with old scars crossing his arms and neck in lines that looked almost deliberate, like someone had once tried to carve secrets out of him and failed. A faint glimmer of chakra flickered in his eyes as they swept over the ground and through the drifting fog, steady and unblinking, the practiced focus of a sensor trained to catch even the quietest shift. When he spoke, his voice was low but held the crisp edge of a soldier who knew when to bow and when to bite.
"He is here, Hirotaka-sama."
Hirotaka stepped through the broken fog like he was strolling through a garden path at sunrise. He wore a crisp, pale robe trimmed in deep blue silk that caught the morning light without looking gaudy. His build looked soft at first glance, a hint of comfortable weight around his middle, but his posture was a blade in disguise. His calm presence made the cold air feel less suffocating, though not by much.
He looked at me first, his mouth curving into a small, practiced smile. "Noa-kun. I was hoping I'd find you here. I wanted to talk to you."
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. For a heartbeat, I just stood there frozen, the whole thing too absurd to process. Danzo sitting on a bench in the middle of a fog circle, a bruiser of a shinobi on guard, and Hirotaka acting like we'd bumped into each other outside a tea shop.
Danzo's voice cut through the polite warmth, cold and smooth. "Hirotaka-dono. What would a civilian leader be doing here at this hour?"
Hirotaka's polite smile didn't budge, but his eyes flickered, sharp for just a heartbeat. "It seems great minds think alike, Elder Danzo. The air was so refreshing this morning I decided to enjoy a walk. And since Noa-kun asked me for a small favor the other day, I thought I'd deliver it myself. He is a close friend of my daughter's, and I would never refuse her a request."
Danzo smirked, seeing through the lie at once. His eyes lingered on the shinobi standing close behind Hirotaka, measuring him with the same cold patience he'd turned on Noa. He understood exactly what this was. The Yamanaka were too important to Konoha's intelligence to ever be blind. It was no surprise they would keep eyes on Noa, given his potential and his closeness to Hirotaka's daughter.
Danzo's gaze drifted to the mist curling around them. His voice stayed soft, almost patient, like a teacher pointing out a simple truth.
"Trust and coin. They build fine walls, Hirotaka-dono. But fine walls do not stop a blade that knows where to cut."
Hirotaka's smile stayed bright but left his eyes cold.
"Walls hold back more than blades, Elder Danzo. Sometimes they keep rot from spreading when too many shadows gather."
Danzo's eyes flicked toward Noa, then back again, as if the boy were nothing more than a piece between them.
"Shadows are not the rot. They are the hands that pull it out when polite words and bonds fail."
Hirotaka gave the faintest shrug, so slight it barely disturbed the fabric of his robe.
"Polite words and bonds keep the village from devouring itself out of fear and mistrust. Shadows have their place. The real question is what happens when they forget they were meant to serve the tree, not strangle it."
A quiet hum rose in Danzo's throat. His tone never shifted, but it settled into the fog like an old blade being drawn.
"Some branches must be cut to keep the tree alive. Not everyone has the stomach to hold the blade."
Hirotaka's polite mask never cracked. If anything, the small lines around his eyes grew sharper as he kept his smile in place.
"Perhaps not. However, there will always be those willing to pay to keep the fire burning and to remind certain shadows exactly where they belong."
Danzo let that hang for a heartbeat before dipping his chin dismissively. His eyes moved to Noa, calm but hard enough to cut.
"Remember what we spoke of, Noa. If you ever grow tired of inaction and weakness, come and sit at this same bench at the same time. I will see to it that you grow as strong as you were meant to be. Your revenge will not have to wait for another fool's hesitation."
He stood with careful calm, cloak whispering over the bench as he turned away. Without another word, he stepped into the fog behind him. The mist seemed to swallow him whole. Moments later, the circle of fog broke apart, revealing the bright rising sun. The sharp air turned cool, calming and clear, birdsong carrying on the morning wind as if nothing had happened there at all.
I let out a breath that tasted like iron and looked at Hirotaka. My thoughts finally caught up to my mouth. "Thank you, Hirotaka-sama. That felt… like too much."
Hirotaka's smile was kind as he placed a light hand on my shoulder. "No need to thank me, Noa. A friend of my precious daughter is a friend of mine."
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small folded letter. "This has the address and details for your kenjutsu training. I should warn you, he is a tough master. But if you endure it and earn his approval, I'll have something special for you. A reward for your dedication."
A real smile tugged at my mouth. "How can I ever repay you, Hirotaka-sama?"
His laughter came out soft, with that same unsettling warmth that never touched his eyes. "You already have."
I blinked. "When?"
Hirotaka turned away, the guard falling in step at his side. He called back without looking, his voice calm. "In the future, Noa-kun. In the future."
And just like that, he vanished into the bright streets, leaving me alone with the birds and the quiet weight of everything that had just happened.