Kagura found himself at a crossroads.
Then another thought surfaced—
Danzō had already collected numerous three-tomoe Sharingan. Perhaps a mere two-tomoe Sharingan would not interest him all that much.
If he confessed proactively, he might earn greater trust.
He might even receive proper guidance in training the Sharingan.
Across the entire shinobi world, aside from the Uchiha Clan of Konoha—and the rogue Uchiha Obito—
Few understood the Sharingan's bloodline limit more thoroughly than Danzō.
In a way, that tradition traced back to the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju.
After all—
No one understands you better than your enemy.
Kagura paced slowly inside his room, each step heavy with deliberation.
He recalled the missions he had carried out in Root—the bloodshed, the ruthlessness.
He understood this organization well.
Danzō was merciless, willing to use any means to achieve his goals.
Yet under his command, Root possessed immense resources and an unparalleled intelligence network.
"I'll gamble on it."
At last, Kagura made his decision.
Once fully recovered, he would seek Danzō himself.
Recovery was slow and painful.
Each bandage change reopened not only wounds of flesh, but memories of battle.
The deaths of his teammates haunted him more than the injuries.
When he was finally strong enough, he formally requested an audience with Danzō.
During the waiting period, he attempted to gather information about his fallen squadmates.
Root operatives either ignored him or refused to disclose anything.
It seemed only Danzō could provide answers.
In the meantime, Kagura pieced together intelligence about the incident in the Land of Grass.
After the Third Shinobi World War, the Land of Grass had fallen into economic stagnation.
What was once modest prosperity had withered.
Kusagakure suffered alongside it.
Shinobi often went unpaid. Poverty spread.
Desperation bred instability.
Naturally, such conditions did not escape Danzō's attention.
Driven by ambition to seize the position of Fifth Hokage, Danzō sought leverage.
Secretly influencing Kusagakure would provide precisely that.
The leadership of Kusagakure resisted.
Facing covert infiltration from Konoha, they retaliated discreetly—ordering Grass shinobi to target Leaf shinobi entering their territory.
Kagura's mission had been a simple escort assignment—
But they became prey.
From the Grass shinobi's perspective, if all of them died within Grass territory, Kusagakure could deny involvement.
Konoha might suspect—
But without evidence, no war would follow.
Thus, the ambush had been launched.
Sitting alone in his quarters, Kagura frowned deeply.
A darker thought crept into his mind.
What if Danzō had anticipated this?
What if sending them into Grass territory during rising tensions was intentional?
Heavy casualties could serve as justification.
Demand reparations.
And if refused—
War.
Danzō was no stranger to conflict.
In his worldview, war was often a tool for acquiring power.
The suspicion grew like weeds in Kagura's thoughts.
But even if it were true—
What could he do?
Knowing would change nothing.
At last, approval arrived.
Kagura straightened his uniform, steadied his breathing, and entered Danzō's office.
The room was dimly lit.
Danzō turned slowly, his single visible eye gleaming coldly in the shadows.
"How are your injuries?" His voice was low and coarse.
"They have mostly healed. Thank you for your concern, Lord Danzō," Kagura replied with a respectful bow.
Danzō studied him carefully.
"I hear you wished to ask something."
Kagura inhaled quietly.
"Yes, Lord Danzō. My squadmates…"
"Chi and Gen are dead," Danzō said flatly.
"Ten has been retrieved. Severe injuries. His right arm has been severed. He remains unconscious."
The words struck like steel.
Kagura had prepared himself—
But hearing it aloud made the loss real.
Two years of fighting side by side.
Root demanded emotional suppression.
But bonds still formed.
Especially Ten.
He had been the squad captain—the only one with jōnin-level strength.
He always charged first.
Always shielded them.
Not with words—
But with action.
Kagura remembered clearly:
When they were scattered, Ten fled north and west—
Drawing the majority of enemies away.
Buying them time.
Ten's greatest strength was kenjutsu.
Now his right arm was gone.
Even if he survived—
What future awaited him in Root, where strength defined worth?
Pain twisted in Kagura's chest.
Silence lingered in the dim office.
Finally—
Kagura raised his head.
"Lord Danzō… I wish to know who my parents were."