Deep within the dim, shadowed corridors of Root, Danzo Shimura stood alone. The space was quiet, almost oppressively so, yet his posture was rigid, disciplined as always. Still, for the first time in years, a trace of confusion flickered across his normally stoic face.
He had unknowingly drifted into a brief slumber while standing—a rare and unsettling lapse for someone as perpetually vigilant as Danzo. Even stranger, the dream that overtook him had felt more like a memory, a vision of events yet to unfold.
In it, a boy from Hidden Rain Village appeared, his eyes a piercing violet, cold and seething with hatred. Those Rinnegan eyes seemed to pierce the deepest defenses of Danzo's heart, and an instinctive, inexplicable fear surged within him.
In the dream, he felt death—merciless and final—as if that boy had already struck him down. And yet, just as the illusion of demise reached its peak, Danzo awoke, shivering violently, drenched in cold sweat. His chest heaved, and his breaths came in ragged gasps.
But the strangest part came next. On his right arm, one of the implanted Sharingan had closed. Not in the usual manner, but completely, as if its ocular power had been permanently depleted. He watched, bewildered, as the skin surrounding it appeared to smooth, the wrinkles of age receding slightly.
Looking at his reflection, Danzo frowned. Could it be the Wood Release cells revitalizing his body? That explained his rejuvenation to some degree—but one Sharingan closing without warning? That defied explanation.
He knew well that his transplanted Sharingan would not lose power unless fatally damaged and an Izanagi had been activated. But he had merely closed his eyes for a moment—no confrontation, no danger. Could the dream have been more than a dream?
Had he truly experienced death?
A chill ran down his spine. The more he thought, the more impossible it seemed. Anxiety gnawed at him, a gnawing irritation unlike any he had felt before. He forced himself to breathe, to regain composure, and quickly replaced the inactive Sharingan with a spare.
Yet his heart remained uneasy.
"Lord Danzo!"
A Root Anbu ninja appeared silently, kneeling on one knee. His voice was calm but urgent as he delivered the latest intelligence.
"Speak," Danzo said, his voice steely, hiding the turmoil within.
"There are two urgent reports," the Anbu began. "First, Uchiha Sasuke has disappeared from Konoha Hospital; his whereabouts are unknown. Second, Jiraiya has departed the village and is heading to Hidden Rain Village."
Danzo's brows furrowed sharply, a flash of dangerous resolve lighting his eyes. Sasuke had disappeared? Years of experience and intuition told him immediately who might be involved. Orochimaru.
That man's obsession with the Uchiha clan's ocular powers was legendary. A prodigy like Sasuke would be a treasure beyond measure for him.
"Hmph… he still couldn't resist making a move," Danzo muttered, a hint of scorn in his tone. Orochimaru's ambition was never idle; this disappearance was almost certainly his doing.
But then the second report—the mention of Jiraiya—stirred a deeper unease. Jiraiya was undoubtedly investigating the Akatsuki, particularly their enigmatic leader who possessed the Rinnegan. And Hidden Rain Village was no place for casual investigation.
"Hidden Rain…," Danzo whispered, recalling the violet eyes of the Rinnegan from his dream. The unease coiled tighter within him. The killing intent he had sensed was no mere illusion—it was a warning, a sign of a great and imminent threat.
"Jiraiya, you truly are meddlesome," he muttered, voice low, tension rolling off his frame.
---
Meanwhile, in the Hokage Office, Tsunade sat across from Hiruzen Sarutobi, poring over piles of documents. Among them was a detailed record of Uchiha Gen, meticulously kept but still raising questions.
Tsunade's fingers paused mid-page. "Old man… there's something off here. Some of these records… they don't seem accurate."
Hiruzen remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he nodded slowly. "You are correct, Tsunade. I am not entirely unfamiliar with Uchiha Gen."
Tsunade blinked in surprise, her brows knitting together. "Old man… you know him?"
Hiruzen leaned back, taking a deep breath. Slowly, he retrieved a stack of documents from his drawer, memories of long ago flooding back.
"As early as when Gen was a student at the Ninja Academy, he wrote letters… many letters to the higher-ups in the village."
"Letters?" Tsunade asked, confusion evident.
"Yes. Letters and notes carefully hidden in his schoolwork and personal diaries, subtle messages meant to convey his thoughts to us without overtly attracting attention," Hiruzen explained.
Tsunade frowned, turning over pages. "I've gone through his archives repeatedly, and there's almost nothing. Just a single essay…"
Hiruzen's lips pressed into a tight line. "Those essays were just a fraction of his attempts. We dismissed them as trivial ramblings of a lonely, ambitious child seeking attention. We failed to see the seriousness behind them."
A flush of regret crossed Hiruzen's face. "At the time, we were negligent… far too negligent. Had we paid closer attention, perhaps we could have altered the course of events for the Uchiha."
He paused, staring at the documents as if seeing Gen's trust and intentions reflected in the ink. The boy had believed in Konoha's higher-ups. He had hoped to influence the future, to prevent the tragedy that would befall his clan.
"And yet, we ignored him," Hiruzen whispered, the weight of decades pressing down on his shoulders. "We were unfair… blind to the earnest warnings of a child trying to avert disaster."
Tsunade's expression softened, a hint of empathy in her eyes. "So all this time, he was trying to change the outcome… to save his clan?"
"Yes," Hiruzen admitted. "And the irony… the cruelty… is that his foresight was far beyond our comprehension, even in those days."
He leaned back, sighing heavily. "Now, as Sasuke disappears and the threads of fate weave ever tighter, I feel the full measure of our past failures. The Uchiha's fate was always a puzzle… and Gen had seen the pieces clearly long before we did."
A heavy silence filled the room. Both Hiruzen and Tsunade understood that history, mistakes, and human limitations were converging on the present. Sasuke's disappearance was not merely an isolated event—it was the continuation of patterns long ignored, and the first of many challenges the village would face.
In Root, Danzo adjusted the remaining Sharingan, his face a mask of stoic resolve, but his mind churned. The dream, the Rinnegan, Sasuke, and Jiraiya—they were all threads in a tapestry he was only beginning to perceive. Every step taken by the ninja world, every movement of the Akatsuki, and the ambitions of Orochimaru were interconnected.
A cold thought settled in his mind: the Sharingan that had closed was no accident. It was a warning, a symbol, perhaps even a premonition. And with the Rinnegan now a factor in the equation, the balance of power in the ninja world was shifting, imperceptibly but irrevocably.
Danzo straightened, his cold eyes hardening. Plans would need adjustment, contingencies prepared, and every resource mobilized. If the young Uchiha and the meddlesome Jiraiya were involved, then the stakes had just risen far beyond what any of Konoha's leaders had anticipated.
The room remained dim, but the tension was palpable. Above all, one truth became undeniable: the Sharingan may have closed, but the game was far from over. And Danzo Shimura, ever vigilant, would ensure that the pieces moved according to his will.
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