Within this spy-purging plan, Yuusuke Ame was a crucial link—so much so that he was forcibly turned into a so-called "direct witness" of the failed alliance between Konoha and Kumogakure.
On the surface, the only thing Yuusuke actually knew was what had happened to the Hokage after the alliance ceremony. Yet the information attributed to him had been massively exaggerated, and as a result, his value as an intelligence source had become incalculable.
From the moment he arrived in Konoha until now, less than twelve hours had passed at most. And yet, judging by Shimura Danzō's tone, the news seemed to have already spread throughout the entire village.
Most of Konoha now knew that someone had brought back intelligence of extraordinary importance. Naturally, that meant all the spies also knew that someone named Yuusuke Ame existed—someone who supposedly held critical information.
There was concrete proof of this.
Earlier that morning, a ninja squad had forced its way into the village with abnormal urgency and aggression, charging straight toward the Hokage Tower. After that, Konoha's upper leadership convened for a long emergency meeting.
Even so, the speed at which the information spread was still unnervingly fast.
Without question, someone had been fanning the flames.
And if nothing unexpected occurred, that person was the very man standing in front of Yuusuke now—Shimura Danzō.
"So compared to extracting this kind of intelligence from Konoha's leadership," Yuusuke said slowly, "it's much easier to start with me instead. And for spies… I'm the most important, the most credible first-hand source. Is that right?"
"If you understand that much, then all the better," Danzō replied.
His plan could hardly be called ingenious, but it was exceptionally practical. The only real problem was that when the spies finally moved, Yuusuke himself had no ability to protect his own life.
Using Yuusuke to flush out spies from other villages aligned perfectly with Konoha's interests. Not to mention an outsider like him—even a pure-blooded Konoha ninja would be sacrificed without hesitation if the situation demanded it.
Placing the village's interests above all else—this was one of the fundamental principles of those in power.
Clever spies would naturally recognize Konoha's intentions.And yet, they would still make their move.
Danzō's plan was practically an open conspiracy.
The bait was simply too tempting.
Fish would bite.
Yuusuke clicked his tongue inwardly. Did he really have a choice? Whether he understood or not, whether he accepted it or not, whether he agreed or not—none of it had any meaningful impact on the plan itself.
Danzō had come here for only one reason: to inform Yuusuke.
"I agree to the village's arrangements," Yuusuke said, stopping Danzō before he could leave. "But before the plan is carried out, I have one small, insignificant request…"
Danzō halted and turned, adopting a posture of listening.
At present, Shimura Danzō had not yet reached the level of extremity he would display in the future. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered explaining anything to Yuusuke at all.
At the same time, he had no intention—nor the ability—to openly contend with the Acting Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen.
So even though he hadn't sought Hiruzen's approval immediately, before the plan truly began, he would still need to formally inform the Acting Hokage.
And when Sarutobi Hiruzen learned of this matter, despite his personal reluctance—after all, his nature made him unwilling to drag innocent people into violent schemes—he ultimately had no grounds to oppose Danzō's plan when viewed from the perspective of the village's利益 and his position as Hokage.
"At this point, the only thing we can do is assign additional personnel and do our best to ensure Yuusuke's safety," Sarutobi said after Danzō returned from the hospital.
As the one who had brought back news of the Second Hokage and faithfully carried out Tobirama's final request, Yuusuke was a man of merit. As Tobirama's disciple, Sarutobi could not allow someone like Yuusuke to die too easily.
"What is it? Is there something else?" Sarutobi asked, noticing that Danzō seemed to hesitate, as if wanting to speak but holding himself back.
"Do you know what that boy Yuusuke said to me," Danzō asked, "after learning he would be placed in grave danger?"
What could he have said that was worth mentioning? Sarutobi was puzzled. Fear? Begging? Pleading for protection? Surely nothing beyond that.
"He said to me…" Danzō repeated Yuusuke's exact words without alteration,"'Can you give me a blade? A kunai would do.'"
It wasn't a major request.
And yet, it revealed something fundamental about a person's stance when facing imminent danger.
When Yuusuke realized the situation was unavoidable, he neither wallowed in self-pity nor pretended to be pitiful. Instead, he made the only choice that truly mattered—the most correct one.
He chose to fight for his life.
No one was worthy of absolute trust. No third party could protect him one hundred percent of the time. So holding a blade in his own hand was the final form of insurance.
"He's a bit older than ideal," Sarutobi Hiruzen said after a brief silence, "but… he really is excellent material to become a ninja."
"Mm. He is," Danzō replied—rarely agreeing with Sarutobi.
The moment the words left their mouths, both men seemed to realize how unusual it was for them to share the same opinion. An awkward silence immediately filled the room.
Almost simultaneously, they turned their gazes toward the window.
Outside the Hokage Tower, night had quietly descended over the entirety of Konohagakure.
Elsewhere, in the hospital room on the third floor of Konoha Hospital, Yuusuke was also waiting—quietly—for events to unfold.
If the intelligence he represented was truly important enough, then the enemy's actions would only grow more urgent.
That meant that if anyone intended to make a move against him, it would happen after nightfall.
Conversely, if nothing happened tonight, then nothing would happen afterward either.
The bait was irresistible—but there was only one piece of it.
With forces converging from all directions, anyone preparing to act would fear being too late, not too early.
This quiet anticipation of danger was almost unbearable.
Yuusuke considered himself a patient person, yet even he felt his nerves fraying as he waited.
It wasn't danger itself that he hated.
It was the feeling of helplessness when facing it.
The events of the past two days—both what he had experienced and what awaited him—were simply too overwhelming.
As the night deepened, Yuusuke's tension tightened further and further.
Then—
In the deathly silence of the night, a crisp metallic clang suddenly rang out.
......