The first rays of dawn crept into the Hokage's chambers, painting the world in soft, forgiving hues. Rohan awoke to the familiar, delicious ache that had become the signature of his mornings, a testament to the Hokage's nightly, passionate reclaiming of her most prized possession. Each tenderly bruised muscle was a verse in a love song written with a fierce, possessive hand. He lay in the quiet stillness, basking in the profound peace that came from being utterly and completely owned. The loneliness of his past eternity was a distant, forgotten dream.
He rose with a fluid grace, dressing himself in the simple, elegant robes Tsunade had provided. His mind was already focused on the day ahead. Today was the day his true work began. Today, he would take the broken, furious boy named Sasuke Uchiha and begin the delicate process of reforging him, not into a tool of vengeance, but into a champion of a new, brighter future.
He found Sasuke waiting for him at the designated training ground, the same one where Team 7 had first learned the sting of failure and the strength of teamwork. The boy was a study in coiled, impatient energy. He stood with his new sword, Yoru no Kasen, held loosely in one hand, his dark eyes burning with a desperate hunger for the power he had been promised. The hatred was still there, a white-hot core in the center of his being, but it was no longer a wild, chaotic inferno. It was now a focused, contained forge, waiting for a master smith to direct its heat.
"You're late," Sasuke clipped, his voice sharp with impatience.
Rohan offered a serene smile, unperturbed by the boy's lingering arrogance. "A lesson in patience is the first step for any true student, Sasuke. A blade struck too quickly will shatter." He walked to the center of the training ground, where a solid, gleaming ingot of chakra-conductive metal, used for testing the sharpness of advanced weaponry, had been placed.
"Your training begins not with jutsu, or with learning to wield the new powers in your eyes," Rohan stated, his voice calm and authoritative. "It begins with this." He gestured to the sword in Sasuke's hand. "It begins with the art of the sword. Kendo."
Sasuke scoffed. "I already know how to use a sword. Kakashi taught me."
"Kakashi taught you how to use a sword as a weapon," Rohan corrected gently. "He taught you the art of killing. I will teach you the art of the sword itself. There is a profound difference." He picked up a standard, worn, iron kunai from a nearby training stump. "To a true master, the quality of the blade is secondary. The finest sword in the world is useless in the hands of a fool, and the dullest blade can become a tool of miracles in the hands of one who understands."
He turned to face the solid ingot of chakra metal. "Your Sharingan allows you to see the flow of chakra. It is a remarkable ability. But it only shows you one layer of reality. There are other energies, other flows, that are invisible to even your eyes. All things in this world, living or not, have a rhythm, a presence, a voice. A rock has a voice of stillness. A river has a voice of movement. A sword… a sword has a voice of cutting. A true swordsman does not force his will upon the world. He listens. He listens for the 'breath' of all things, and he cuts along the lines of that breath, where the world itself wishes to be parted."
Sasuke stared, his brow furrowed in confusion. This was not the kind of lesson he had expected. It sounded like the nonsensical ramblings of a madman.
"Watch," Rohan said softly. He held up the simple, battered kunai. He did not coat it in chakra. He did not channel any energy into it that Sasuke's Sharingan could detect. He simply closed his eyes, his breathing becoming slow and even. An aura of profound, absolute focus settled around him.
For a moment, he was perfectly still. Then, he moved. It was not a fast or powerful strike. It was a single, fluid, almost gentle slash. The tip of the iron kunai traced a silent, graceful arc through the air and touched the surface of the chakra metal ingot.
And the impossible happened.
The solid, gleaming ingot, a metal designed to withstand the sharpest of chakra-infused blades, split in two with a sound like a soft sigh. The cut was perfect, clean, and utterly flawless, as if the metal had been made of water. The two halves slid apart and fell to the ground with a dull thud.
Sasuke's jaw dropped. His Sharingan spun wildly, replaying the moment over and over, searching for the trick, the jutsu, the hidden application of chakra. It found nothing. There was no trick. Rohan had cut one of the hardest substances known to the shinobi world with a dull iron kunai, using nothing but pure, incomprehensible skill.
He finally understood. The power Rohan offered was not just about flashy, godlike abilities. It was about a fundamental, terrifying understanding of reality itself. For the first time, a flicker of genuine, unadulterated respect for his new master ignited within him. Rohan was not all talk.
"That," Rohan said, tossing the kunai aside, "is the difference between killing and cutting. I will teach you to listen to that breath. You will learn to cut steel as if it were paper. That is your first goal."
For the next several hours, Rohan patiently guided Sasuke through the fundamental stances and philosophies of his unique brand of Kendo. He corrected the boy's grip, his posture, his breathing. He taught him not to fight the blade, but to become one with it, to let it be an extension of his will, a tool to commune with the world around him. Sasuke, for his part, was a surprisingly dedicated student. The arrogance was still there, but it was now tempered by a burning curiosity and the undeniable proof of a power he desperately wanted to understand.
As the sun reached its zenith, Rohan decided the first lesson was complete. "You have done well," he said. "Now, for a glimpse of what is possible when form and power unite."
He held up his hand, and the ethereal, golden blade, Ama no Murakumo, materialized in his grasp, its light a soft hum in the quiet air. Sasuke stared, mesmerized. He had seen the sword from a distance, but up close, it was even more breathtaking. It was not just a weapon; it was a captured star, a piece of solidified divinity.
Rohan handed the light sword to Sasuke. "Hold it. Feel its nature. It has no weight, for it is only light. It cannot be broken, for it is only energy. It can cut anything, for it is the concept of a perfect edge."
Sasuke took the hilt, and a jolt of pure, clean energy shot up his arm. The feeling was intoxicating. He swung the blade, and it moved with an impossible, weightless speed, leaving a trail of golden light in its wake. This was the kind of power he had dreamed of.
It was at this moment, as Sasuke stood in awe, holding a sword made of pure light, that Rohan's head tilted slightly. His Observation Haki, a constant, passive sense that extended for miles around him, had detected a presence. A flicker. A spy, hidden deep in the foliage on the edge of the training ground. The presence was cloaked, its chakra suppressed to an almost undetectable level, but it could not hide from a sense that perceived souls, not just energy. It was a Root ANBU. And it had seen everything.
A cold, dangerous smile touched Rohan's lips. So, the old hawk has taken the bait.
The training session concluded shortly after. Rohan dismissed Sasuke, telling him to go home and meditate on the concept of the 'breath,' to practice the stances until they were as natural as breathing itself. As Sasuke walked away, his mind buzzing with new knowledge and his heart filled with a strange, unfamiliar sense of purpose, Rohan turned his gaze towards the spot where the spy had been. He was already gone, racing back to the dark, hidden burrows of his master.
Rohan did not pursue. He simply let the spy go. The first move in the game against Danzo had just been made, and it had been made by Danzo himself.
With a flash of golden light, Rohan appeared back in the Hokage's office. Tsunade and Jiraiya looked up, their expressions anxious.
"The spy has reported to his master," Rohan stated calmly. "Danzo is now aware of my existence, though he knows nothing of my nature beyond what he has been told: that I am a being who can create a sword of pure light. He will be cautious. He will investigate. And that is precisely what we want."
His expression turned serious. "But this accelerates the timeline. Danzo is not a man who tolerates mysteries or potential threats to his power. He will see Sasuke's sudden, private training with an unknown entity as a dangerous development. He may move against Sasuke to test our response, or to simply eliminate a piece he no longer controls. We cannot leave him vulnerable."
He looked directly at Tsunade. "I want you to move Sasuke Uchiha into the Hokage Tower. Effective immediately. Give him a suite of rooms here, under your personal protection. Let the entire village see that the last Uchiha is now living under the direct guardianship of the Hokage. It will be a powerful political statement, and it will make it nearly impossible for Danzo to move against him without openly declaring war on you."
Tsunade didn't hesitate for a second. "Done," she said, already turning to summon an ANBU to carry out the order.
Later that evening, Sasuke stood in a spacious, luxurious suite of rooms high in the Hokage Tower, his few belongings already neatly put away by a silent attendant. He looked out the window at the sprawling village below, the lights twinkling like a fallen constellation. He had been confused when the ANBU had arrived with the order, but the moment he had stepped into these rooms, the gravity of the situation had settled upon him.
This wasn't just a training arrangement. This was a declaration. They were truly protecting him. The Hokage, the legendary Sannin, and the godlike being who was now his master—they were willing to go to these lengths, to make such a public and powerful move, all for his safety.
The cold, hard shell around his heart, a shell that had been cracked by the truth, now began to melt away under the warmth of this undeniable, unconditional protection. For the first time since he was six years old, he felt… safe. He felt like he had a home again. The seed of hope that Rohan had planted was putting down deep, strong roots.
That night, as Rohan recounted the day's events to Tsunade, he made one final, crucial addition to his plan.
"There is one more thing we can offer him," Rohan said softly. "A final piece of hope to solidify his new path." He looked at Tsunade, his eyes filled with a profound compassion. "Danzo has Shisui Uchiha's eye. It is a part of him, a biological sample. When the time comes, when Sasuke has his justice and Danzo is defeated, I can use the tissue from that eye to perform a resurrection."
Tsunade's breath hitched. "You can… resurrect Shisui?"
"It will be difficult," Rohan admitted. "But not impossible. I will need to expend a great deal of my own life force to reconstruct his body and grant him the vitality to live. But it can be done."
He met with Sasuke the next day and told him of this possibility. He explained that Shisui, the heroic older brother figure he had admired as a child, the man who had died to protect the village, could be brought back.
Sasuke, who remembered Shisui's kindness, his brilliant smile, and his gentle guidance, was stunned into silence. The idea of not only avenging his clan, but restoring one of its greatest heroes… it was a future more wonderful than he had ever dared to imagine. His agreement was instant, absolute, and filled with a new, fierce determination. He was no longer just fighting for revenge. He was fighting for restoration.
With Sasuke's future now on a stable, hopeful trajectory, Rohan turned his attention to the other members of Team 7. That evening, as he and Tsunade shared a quiet meal, he broached a new subject.
"Tsunade-sama," he began, "I have been observing the other members of Sasuke's team. Specifically, the girl. Sakura Haruno."
Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "The girl with the pink hair? A bright student, good chakra control, but her skills are… average. She has no special bloodline, no hidden power."
"Potential is not always a matter of blood," Rohan said. "I have seen the futures, remember? I have seen a timeline where Sakura, feeling useless and left behind by her powerful teammates, comes to you and begs you to take her on as an apprentice."
Tsunade's eyes widened in surprise.
"And in that future," Rohan continued with a smile, "you agree. You see in her a reflection of your own younger self—a girl with perfect chakra control and a brilliant mind, but lacking the raw power to stand on the front lines. You train her. You teach her your medical ninjutsu. You teach her your monstrous, chakra-enhanced strength. And she becomes a legend in her own right. She surpasses even you in certain aspects of medical ninjutsu. She becomes the greatest healer of her generation, a true successor to your legacy, and a vital pillar of Konoha's strength."
Tsunade was shocked into silence. The idea of taking on a student, of passing on her knowledge… it was something she had never considered. The pain of her past losses had made her close her heart to the idea of nurturing a new generation. But Rohan's words painted a picture of a future so bright, so full of purpose…
A wide, genuine, and happy smile spread across her face. "A successor…" she whispered, the word tasting sweet on her tongue. "You truly think she has it in her?"
"I know she does," Rohan affirmed.
"Then I will do it," Tsunade declared, her eyes shining with a new, excited light. "Tomorrow, I will summon her. I will take on a new apprentice!"
Her happiness was a radiant, palpable thing. She looked at Rohan, the source of this new purpose, the architect of her new future, and her heart overflowed with a love so powerful it was a physical force. The strategic Hokage vanished, and the possessive, passionate queen returned.
She stood up, walked around the table, and pulled him from his chair. "You have done enough planning for one day, my love," she purred, her voice a low, husky promise. "You have saved a lost soul, secured the village's future, and given me a new purpose. Now…" She pulled him into a deep, demanding kiss. "It is time for you to give me my daily reward."
As she claimed him, a world away, in a dark, subterranean chamber, Danzo Shimura listened to the report from his spy. He sat in the shadows, his face an unreadable mask, as the Root ANBU described the man of light, the sword made of sunbeams, and the impossible feat of cutting chakra metal with a simple kunai.
A cold, reptilian smile touched Danzo's lips. A new, powerful, and unknown piece had just appeared on the board. A piece that was now tutoring the Uchiha brat. This was an unacceptable variable. A threat to his plans.
"Find out everything you can about this… Rohan," Danzo commanded, his voice a dry, rustling whisper. "I want to know where he came from, the nature of his power, and most importantly… his weaknesses."
The game had begun. And Danzo Shimura, the darkness at the root of the Leaf, was preparing to make his first move.