Gunaseelan K
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Chapter 46: Wherever Leaves Flutter, Fire Burns
🕑 Added 2025-08-22 15:07:51 +0000 UTC
Withered and twisted trees, like vengeful spirits writhing in hell, sprawled wildly around the Hokage Office Building. Their gnarled branches twisted toward the sky as if reaching out to snare anyone who dared approach. The area had been quickly and completely sealed off by the dense, lifeless wood, forming a natural fortress that cut off all prying eyes and any possible reinforcements from outside.
Several Konoha Anbu ninjas attempted to approach the perimeter, but as soon as they stepped forward, the twisted trees reacted violently. Branches shot out with impossible speed, piercing through armor and flesh alike. Their screams echoed through the area one after another, creating a chilling symphony of terror. No one from outside could hope to reach the center, let alone provide any meaningful support.
From all directions, a large number of Root operatives soon arrived. Initially, the sheer horror of the scene caused them to hesitate. But when they recognized the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, standing at the center, their initial fear was replaced by conflicted resolve. Their gazes briefly flickered to Danzo, whose expression remained as cold and indifferent as ever. After a moment’s hesitation, they silently reaffirmed their loyalty to their commander, choosing to stand behind him unwaveringly.
Danzo’s eyes swept across the area, his cold stare appraising every detail. “You all guard the perimeter. No one is allowed to enter. I will handle this personally.”
“Yes, Lord Danzo,” the Root members responded in unison before quickly dispersing to establish a near-impenetrable defensive line.
Senju Tobirama’s cold gaze lingered on Hiruzen Sarutobi, his expression unreadable but his eyes brimming with silent judgment. Hiruzen, in contrast, lowered his head, burdened by a wave of bitter guilt. He knew that, despite the outward appearance of control, the village had long placed him in impossible positions, forcing him to compromise again and again.
Danzo’s hesitation vanished. With a sudden, almost imperceptible movement, he released the restraints on his body. In that instant, an astonishing sight emerged.
Countless crimson Sharingan eyes had taken root across his right arm, shoulder, and even half of his torso. Each eye opened simultaneously, their red pupils radiating a malevolent aura so oppressive it made the air itself feel heavy. Anyone in their presence would find their scalp tingling from the sheer force of their power.
“Danzo… what have you done?” Hiruzen’s voice fell low, laden with sorrow and disbelief.
With a swift stomp, Danzo propelled himself forward with astonishing speed. In his hand, a withered wooden blade condensed from chakra slashed outward, aimed directly at Tobirama.
Even Tobirama, the Second Hokage, was taken aback by the velocity of the strike. Instinctively, he activated the Flying Thunder God Technique, vanishing in a blink to narrowly evade what could have been a fatal blow.
But the attack was not truly meant for him. Tobirama’s sharp mind quickly deduced the truth—the real target was Hiruzen Sarutobi. Danzo’s strikes were a deliberate tactic: engage the immortal Edo Tensei body of Tobirama only enough to distract, while directing the lethal force at Hiruzen.
“Oh no…” Tobirama’s heart sank as he realized the strategy. Danzo had been calculating this from the start.
Hiruzen raised the Adamantine Staff in a desperate attempt to defend himself, but his movements lacked conviction. His fighting spirit had been sapped over the years by countless internal struggles, compromises, and compromises within the village he had sworn to protect. His blows were clumsy, half-hearted, insufficient to pose any real threat.
Danzo’s eyes glinted sharply, his attacks growing increasingly ruthless. Each strike of the wooden blade pressed upon Hiruzen with unrelenting intent, seeking to pierce the very chest of the Third Hokage. Tobirama remained on high alert, his body a living barrier, deflecting Danzo’s strikes to protect his old comrade.
The strategy was elegantly simple, yet devastatingly effective. Danzo knew Tobirama could endure any attack thanks to his Edo Tensei immortality. By focusing on Hiruzen, he forced the Hokage to defend continuously, gradually breaking down his spirit and forcing him into hesitation.
Hiruzen’s mind was a battlefield. He could not bring himself to strike Danzo—the man he had known and worked with for decades. Yet he could not fully ignore the threat. Tobirama’s orders and the memory of Konoha’s delicate balance weighed heavily on him, leaving him trapped in a web of indecision.
“Damn it…” Tobirama muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. Anxiety gnawed at him. Who had fed Danzo the knowledge of Edo Tensei’s weaknesses? Orochimaru? That could be managed. But if Uchiha Gen himself knew… the danger escalated to a level beyond calculation.
The withered wooden blade surged again, more violently than before. Danzo channeled the full power of the crimson Sharingan into it, the surrounding chakra coalescing into a nearly tangible wave of oppression. The attack headed straight for Hiruzen, who, drained and despondent, made no effort to counter.
It seemed as though the end had come. Hiruzen’s hands hung limply on the staff, his eyes clouded with guilt and resignation. Perhaps this was the fitting conclusion for a Hokage who had endured so much inner turmoil and compromise.
Yet just as the blade threatened to pierce him, Danzo hesitated. “Why, Hiruzen?” he demanded, his voice low but seething with unbridled emotion.
Hiruzen did not answer, lost in a labyrinth of memories, regrets, and self-reproach.
Anger flared within Danzo. His suppressed emotions erupted, spinning him into a whirlwind of frustration. He withdrew the blade and delivered a brutal punch to Hiruzen’s chest, sending the old Hokage crashing against a nearby wall. Dust billowed around him, but Danzo’s intent was clear.
“As Hokage, you are indeed unqualified!” Danzo spat, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Hiruzen struggled to sit up, coughing blood, but memories flashed through his mind—Uchiha Fugaku, the weight of leadership, the Sharingan of his old friend. He whispered bitterly, “Yes… I am indeed not a qualified Hokage.”
The Sharingan implanted within him spun wildly, urging Danzo to continue, to end what seemed an indecisive life. Yet Danzo held back, suppressing the urge to kill.
“Don’t you really want to resist at all, Hiruzen?” he demanded, voice tight with barely contained fury.
As Danzo readied his next strike, the blade’s momentum charged with the concentrated power of the Sharingan, a sudden barrier of water erupted between them. The blue curtain shimmered with unyielding strength, intercepting the lethal attack.
“Hiruzen! What are you doing?!” Tobirama’s furious roar shook the battlefield, jolting Hiruzen from his stupor.
“Sensei…” Hiruzen’s gaze met Tobirama’s, pain and guilt reflected in his eyes.
“How long are you going to keep running? You are the Hokage of Konoha, not for your own comfort, and certainly not for Danzo!” Tobirama’s voice thundered, awakening a long-buried resolve within his mentor.
Danzo’s expression remained unreadable, though a subtle twinge of curiosity crept into his gaze. “Hiruzen… do you remember your dream?” he asked quietly.
The Third Hokage’s eyes hardened as fragments of a long-forgotten vision resurfaced: “Wherever leaves dance, fire will burn. The shadow of the fire will illuminate the village, and then new leaves will bud again… My dream… is to become that fire.”
At that moment, the Sharingan from Fugaku’s influence on Hiruzen mysteriously vanished. A quiet determination replaced the exhaustion and doubt. His staff gripped tightly, he rose with renewed purpose, ready to confront Danzo—not as a weary, guilt-ridden man, but as the true protector of Konoha.
The battlefield seemed to pause, the air thick with tension, as the flames of old dreams ignited once more. Whatever darkness lay ahead, Hiruzen Sarutobi would face it as the Hokage the village deserved, no longer hiding behind hesitation or regret.
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