"…Is it true then?" younger clan head's voice was even, but the undertone of curiosity—and perhaps a touch of concern—was unmistakable.
"There are things," Hiruzen began slowly, his voice low but firm, "that a Hokage cannot say aloud. Not for lack of truth, but for the protection of the village."
The silence deepened.
Hiruzen's gaze swept across the table, his tone turning introspective. "There are... moments when the actions of a single shinobi shape the fate of nations. And sometimes, that shinobi is young—unexpected. But what matters is not how young they are, or what village claims offense. What matters is whether their actions serve the village."
"So it is true," murmured Inoike Yamanaka, glancing at Shiba and Chota beside him.
Chota Akimichi leaned back, his heavy frame causing the chair to creak. "If he really fought a Jinchūriki and survived... we may have another Kage-level shinobi on our hands."
Shiba just gave them a knowing glance. Since the Hokage did not outrightly admit it, he would not do so either.
Across the table, Danzo's eyes narrowed, though he said nothing. His thoughts churned beneath the surface like a serpent circling prey. He should have acted sooner.
Hiruzen had blocked his efforts to get closer to the boy—Renjiro had been an anomaly, but one he could have controlled, shaped, or... removed. At least before the boy became a threat.
While Danzo still had some clout in the Anbu, Hiruzen and Jiraiya had taken measures regarding this sort of information as they were aware of the consequences leaving the Shimura shinobi in a perfect limbo of doubt.
'I should have moved earlier,' Danzo thought darkly. Around him, the other clan heads and elders shifted, processing the Hokage's evasive reply in their own ways. But Danzo barely noticed them. His mind had turned inward.
'I knew the boy was different the moment I saw his file... but I let Sarutobi's idealism and Daichi's petty threats stand in my way. I should have overridden him—pushed harder. Used more subtle methods if necessary.'
'But the reports… they were always too clean, too precise. No mission ever failed. Even when the odds were stacked against him, the results were always optimal. If not for Hiruzen's constant interference—his protection—I might've already had the boy in Root. Moulded. Broken, rebuilt. Shaped into something useful.'
A flicker of memory sharpened into focus: cold, burning eyes that seemed to look directly through him. When he met Renjiro for the first time. Danzo had addressed him, neutral in tone, probing subtly. But the boy hadn't flinched. He hadn't bowed like most did. He had simply stared back, eyes steady and unreadable, as if Danzo were just another stone on the road.
It had unsettled him more than he'd liked to admit.
'He doesn't like me,' Danzo realized again, and this time the thought carried a deeper sting. Not because he cared for Renjiro's favour—he didn't. But because the boy seemed to understand him. Too well. 'It's not fear. Not disgust. It's... understanding. That's dangerous. That makes him unpredictable. Uncontrollable.'
Danzo's fingers twitched beneath the table. 'Instinct, perhaps. Or worse, knowledge. Either way… he will have to be brought under control. Or eliminated. I won't allow another uncontrolled force of nature to walk free. This time... I'll act.'
Hiruzen, as though sensing the unspoken tension curling through the room, lifted a hand.
"We move forward," Hiruzen said, his voice slicing through the atmosphere like a blade. "War looms. Kumogakure has made its move, and Sunagakure may soon follow. The Land of Grass grows restless. We must secure our borders, ensure our supply lines remain intact, and reinforce our allies. Our shinobi must be prepared."
Like a shoji door thrown open, the focus in the room shifted. The tension around Renjiro's name gave way to the more familiar, manageable stress of logistics and strategy.
A moment later, Shiba Nara—ever the pragmatist—leaned forward and unfurled a scroll, revealing a neatly inked map marked with positions and troop estimates. "We'll send a squad to the Northern pass. A rotating team of Chūnin and Jōnin. They'll monitor any movement from Kumo. If they start mustering forces, we'll know before they march."
Chota Akimichi grunted his agreement, reaching for a rice cracker from a pouch at his belt. "The Akimichi will support. We've got heavy units ready to be mobilized. And our supply division can keep them stocked."
"I'll dispatch a unit of trackers," The Inuzuka clan head said, speaking for the first time. "Our hounds will sniff out any covert movements from the border. We'll know if Suna tries anything."
"The intelligence division will coordinate with ANBU to monitor movements within the village. If Kumo plans to destabilize us with misinformation or internal sabotage, we'll intercept it before it takes root." said the Yamanaka clan head, his voice calm and composed.
"Good," Hiruzen said, his eyes flicking over each speaker. "Keep surveillance constant but discreet. We cannot afford to escalate this further unless we must."
The conversation shifted rapidly, each clan head contributing. The Kurama and Aburame clans offered their surveillance teams, and Kohaku, from the technology division, promised to deploy prototype detection seals to strategic areas. Even Daichi Uchiha, mostly quiet throughout the latter half, nodded when asked if the Uchiha would increase patrols within the village and its nearby perimeter.
"The non-clan shinobi are ready as well," Naoko Imai spoke up. "We'll hold the line. We just need to be kept in the loop."
"We've already begun drills," Ryuji Tanaka added. "We'll support wherever we're needed."
Hiruzen inclined his head. "Your contributions are vital. The village stands as one."
The meeting stretched on another half hour, names assigned, routes confirmed, and resources tallied. As the final scroll was sealed and the wax melted onto it, Hiruzen rose.
"That concludes our meeting," he said. "The Will of Fire guides us all. Dismissed."
Chairs scraped. Scrolls were packed away. Clan heads murmured their goodbyes and filed out, some lingering in small groups to exchange brief words.
"Did he really fight the Two-Tails?" murmured one Hyuga elder to another. "If so… he may already be stronger than many of our jonin."
The crowd slowly dispersed, their footsteps echoing down the long hallway outside the chamber.
Only Daichi Uchiha remained, standing silently at the far end of the room, arms folded as he looked at the place where Hiruzen had sat.
Daichi's expression remained unreadable, but there was something sharp in his eyes—an awareness of the storm brewing behind everyone's polite silence.
He turned on his heel and left, his footsteps as soft as falling ash.
As the last echo faded from the chamber, an ANBU knelt silently beside Hiruzen, who had remained behind, reviewing one final scroll by candlelight.
"Lord Hokage," the masked shinobi said. "Renjiro has returned."
Hiruzen blinked in mild surprise, then smiled faintly. "So soon? I thought the mission would take longer. His summon must be very fast…"
The ANBU nodded. "He's currently in one of the Uchiha Clan's private training grounds."
Hiruzen paused for a moment, then said, "Tell him to report in and submit his mission briefing. I'll see him before nightfall."
"Hai," the ANBU replied before vanishing with a flicker of chakra.
Left alone, Hiruzen set the scroll down and looked out through the window, where the sun was now cresting the horizon, casting golden light over the Hokage Monument.
"He probably just completed the mission quickly," Hiruzen mused. "Nothing special must have happened…"
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