Chapter 21 Unexpected Reaction
"Hiruzen, there are suspicious individuals within the village!"
Sarutobi Hiruzen had just stood up from his chair to stretch, but upon hearing Danzo's abrupt words, he immediately sat back down, a tired sigh escaping his lips.
"What happened?"
The Third Hokage pressed his hand against his temple. A headache was already settling in; he had only just finished dealing with official duties for the day and intended to rest. The looming coup d'état plan of the Uchiha clan still weighed heavily on him, making him feel as though he had aged several extra years in a matter of months. And now, Danzo had come, surely to add to his burden.
When it came to Shimura Danzo, Sarutobi's feelings were always complicated. Ever since he had tacitly allowed the establishment of Root under Danzo's command, his old teammate had been both a necessary evil and a constant thorn in his side. Every time Danzo entered the room, it was rarely to bring good news.
"One of Root's operatives has been killed, and the assailant even managed to infiltrate the base," Danzo reported coldly.
Hiruzen's expression hardened. For someone to murder an ANBU-trained Root member inside Konoha's own territory—that was no trivial matter. He didn't involve himself in Root's direct affairs, but the group was still born from ANBU, and for one of its operatives to be killed within the village itself was a deeply concerning matter.
"Was the culprit identified? Did anyone see what he looked like?" Hiruzen asked firmly.
"The assailant was disguised," Danzo replied, his tone sharp. "It isn't clear who he was… but the way he moved, the chakra, it felt like… Yu—" He stopped himself mid-word, biting down the urge to say Uchiha.
Hiruzen's sharp gaze caught the slip. Danzo had a long history of pointing suspicion at the Uchiha clan whenever a disturbance arose. But for him to nearly blurt it out and then stop halfway was unusual.
"Is it connected to the Uchiha?" the Hokage asked, his voice steady.
Danzo shook his head. "No. It's unlikely to be one of them this time. I suspect an infiltrator from outside the village. We may need to strengthen Konoha's barrier defenses."
Hiruzen frowned. His instincts told him the incident was tied to the Uchiha clan, yet for some reason Danzo was taking the unusual step of diverting suspicion away from them. That in itself was alarming. If it were truly an outsider, it would mean someone had managed to slip past Konoha's barrier team undetected—something nearly impossible unless it was a very skilled shinobi.
What game was Danzo playing now?
Inside, Shimura Danzo's thoughts boiled with rage. He could not bear the humiliation of what had happened. To be injured—wounded—by a mere child, a six-year-old Uchiha brat, no less. The wound on his palm still stung with phantom pain, and he could vividly recall how the strange weapon had sliced through his flesh in an instant, draining away his chakra before the boy vanished with a Shadow Clone.
In his heart, he wanted nothing more than to seize Uchiha Makoto, gouge out his Sharingan, and torture him until he broke before casting him aside like trash. How could someone who saw himself as the true Hokage-in-waiting suffer disgrace at the hands of a child?
But if he openly blamed the Uchiha clan, Hiruzen would demand explanations—why Root was targeting a child from their clan in the first place. Danzo could not risk exposing that he had already attempted to abduct the boy. Root had grown powerful, but even so, he could not openly defy the Hokage seated before him. Danzo knew Hiruzen's strength well—they had fought side by side against Hanzo of the Salamander, and he had lost the Hokage seat to him. He would not underestimate him again.
Yet the memory of that strange sword haunted him. A weapon that absorbed chakra so efficiently—could it be a new Kekkei Genkai ability? But the Uchiha's bloodline limit was the Sharingan, not anything of that nature. Was this child truly an Uchiha, or some outside experiment? The more he thought about it, the more his frustration grew.
Danzo forced himself to settle on a theory: perhaps it wasn't the boy at all, but an outsider who had intervened. He constructed the scenario in his mind: Root's agent "Mastiff" had gone to capture Makoto, only to be killed by this unknown shinobi. The intruder had then used Shadow Clone and Transformation techniques to conceal his identity and escape.
Yes, that explanation was convenient enough—for now. After all, Danzo had accumulated many enemies across the shinobi world. Perhaps one had finally dared to strike back inside Konoha's walls. Still, that boy remained suspicious. Even if he could not abduct him again so soon, Danzo resolved to assign more Root agents to watch Makoto's every move. If the Uchiha clan truly pursued a coup, Danzo would be ready to crush them the moment they made a misstep.
Finally, Danzo spoke aloud, his voice resolute:
"It must have been an intruder from outside the village. We must strengthen the barrier and investigate who has managed to infiltrate Konoha."
Hiruzen studied him carefully, sensing there was more left unsaid. Was it truly an outsider? Or was Danzo covering something? Either way, this only added to the Hokage's burdens. If there really was an infiltrator, Konoha's defenses needed review. If it was the Uchiha, then the clan tensions were closer to erupting.
The weight of leadership pressed on him heavily. He had once dreamed of a peaceful retirement, leaving the future in the hands of the next generation, but here he was still, forced to sit in the Hokage's chair while the village crept toward unrest. Even his small pleasures—like peeking through his telescope at the women's bathhouse—had become impossible luxuries.
Unbidden, a thought of his wayward student came to him.
"Jiraiya… wherever you are, I wonder if you're still getting caught peeking at the bathhouse."
The Hokage sighed, the burden of Hokage heavier than ever.
"Achoo—!"
A tall, broad-shouldered man in red robes, wooden clogs on his feet, and a forehead protector with the kanji 油 ("oil") tied proudly to his head sneezed loudly. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, his sharp eyes narrowing before a mischievous, lecherous grin crept across his lips.
"Heh… must be some plump young lady thinking about me right now."
"But boss, what's the deal? It's not often I get summoned in reverse by Mount Myōboku. That only happens when something big is going on," Jiraiya muttered, his tone shifting as he addressed the elder sage who had called him.
In front of him stood Fukasaku, the venerable sage of Mount Myōboku.
"It's not me this time," Fukasaku replied in his old, croaking voice. "It's the Great Toad Sage. My lord had another prophetic dream—one concerning the Son of Prophecy."
"Oh?"
At once, Jiraiya's joking demeanor vanished, his expression tightening into one of solemnity. The words "Son of Prophecy" were never trivial; they carried the weight of the entire shinobi world.
Inside the great temple of Mount Myōboku, the Great Toad Sage sat slumped upon his massive throne, eyelids half-closed, his frail body trembling with age. Yet when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of centuries.
"It has come… it has come at last."
"Who… who has arrived, my lord?" Fukasaku leaned forward respectfully.
"Eh? Who's here?" The Great Toad Sage blinked slowly, looking around as though lost.
"My lord, it's Jiraiya—it's Jiraiya who came, just as you requested," Fukasaku explained patiently.
"Honestly, you senile old toad!" scolded Shima, the purple-haired, sharp-tongued wife of Fukasaku, her purple lips curling in annoyance. "How many times must you forget in front of a guest?"
"Now, now, wife, that's no way to talk," Fukasaku chided.
The Great Toad Sage chuckled faintly, his rheumy eyes fixing on Jiraiya at last. "Ah yes… Jiraiya, my boy. It grew up so suddenly…"
Jiraiya sweat-dropped. No matter how serious he tried to be, every meeting with the Great Toad Sage left him doubting whether this ancient creature truly knew the future—or if he was simply rambling in senility. Still, Jiraiya had seen too many of his past prophecies come true to dismiss them.
"This time… it concerns the Son of Prophecy," the Great Toad Sage rasped.
Jiraiya's posture stiffened.
"In my first dream, I saw a boy with blue eyes who would decide the fate of the shinobi world," the old sage continued slowly. "But now… another figure appeared. A boy with eyes that possess great power… eyes unlike ordinary men's."
"Eyes…?" Jiraiya's thoughts sharpened instantly. Pupil power. He recalled the Sharingan—the kekkei genkai of the Uchiha clan.
"The prophecy remains unchanged," the Great Toad Sage went on. "The Son of Prophecy will either lead the world into unprecedented stability… or plunge it into destruction."
Jiraiya folded his arms, his face solemn. "So… another candidate for the prophecy. Could it be an Uchiha? The clan's eyes are infamous across history. And if so… then I need to get back to Konoha sooner than planned. Orochimaru's trail can wait—this takes priority."
Meanwhile, back in Konoha, within the Hokage's office, Sarutobi Hiruzen had just finished hearing Danzo's report. The aging Hokage leaned on his pipe, smoke curling as he gave his order with quiet authority.
"Starting tomorrow, the Barrier Team will strengthen surveillance around the entire village. No one enters or leaves unnoticed. I will not allow intruders to slip through Konoha's defenses again."
Outside, the village seemed peaceful under the moonlight—but shadows were already gathering, and destinies were beginning to collide.