Deep within Konoha's prison — The Forgotten Floor
The walls were thick. The air—damp, heavy, and suffocating. No other prisoners were kept this deep. Just the Konoha Four… and the growing echo of their regrets.
Naruto placed the wooden toolbox down between them with an eerie gentleness, like a surgeon laying out instruments before an operation.
"I said," Naruto began slowly, "these are tools. For building dreams… or dismantling lies."
The light above flickered once.
No one spoke.
He picked up the chisel, spinning it between his fingers.
"You know what a chisel does? It carves. Cuts away all the unnecessary pieces. Brings out the truth inside."
He knelt down in front of Danzo.
"You love control. Structure. You built an entire organization out of fear. ROOT—cold, faceless, inhuman. You took the children. Turned them into tools. You carved away their hearts."
He slammed the chisel into the ground beside Danzo's foot.
"Tell me, Danzo. How does it feel to be helpless now?"
Danzo flinched. His voice trembled. "You can't—th-this isn't justice…"
Naruto leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper, "Oh, this isn't justice. Not yet. This is therapy."
He stood up and turned toward Homura.
"You were always the shadow behind the throne. Whispering. Plotting. Watching good men die because it served your interests. Did you ever stop to think what those whispers cost?"
He picked up the screwdriver next. Held it like a pen.
"Screwdrivers twist. Drive things into place. Just like your policies."
He walked over to the cell bars, inserted the screwdriver into a crack between stones, and began twisting. The creaking sound echoed across the room. High-pitched. Grating. Endless.
"Feels like the mind, doesn't it? When something keeps turning and turning until it finally… breaks."
Koharu was trembling, her nails digging into her arms.
"Stop—just stop," she whispered.
"I'm not doing anything," Naruto said, stepping back. "You're doing this to yourselves."
Then he sat in front of Hiruzen.
"You… You were supposed to be a father to this village."
Hiruzen didn't respond.
"You let Danzo run wild under your name. You let innocent blood spill for the sake of 'stability'. You called it the Will of Fire, but you let it burn everyone else while you stayed warm."
Naruto slowly picked up a hammer. Held it like a judge about to slam his verdict.
He didn't raise it. Didn't swing.
He just placed it in the center of the room, upright.
"This is not revenge," he said. "This is awareness. Reflection. You will stay here, with no guards, no distractions, no contact. Just each other. And these tools. No one else is on this floor. Just silence… and guilt."
He walked to the door, but paused at the frame.
"Daily, I'll return. Not to hurt you. But to ask if you finally understand."
He turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder.
"And if you still don't… then we'll start building again. With different tools."
He walked away.
No footsteps echoed. Only silence.
Inside the cell, the four elders stared at the tools. Simple. Harmless.
Yet somehow heavier than any sword or jutsu.
In that room full of nothing… they heard everything they had ever done.
Day by day, he returned. And each day, he brought different tools. He didn't just talk. He demonstrated.
He stripped away their pride first.Then their composure.Then their defenses.
Until all that remained was fear—pure, primal fear.
They screamed. They begged. Not for release… but for mercy. And they weren't given any.
Even the other prisoners, once dangerous in their own right, fell silent. The cries and pleas from that cursed floor haunted them. Some whispered prayers. Others tried to bargain. All feared the day Naruto's footsteps echoed toward their cell.
But Naruto never came for them.
The message was clear: This wasn't just justice. It was personal.
Back in the Present
The room was still. Silent… but not peaceful.
The air carried a stale tension, like the calm before a thunderstorm that never ends.
Naruto dragged a chair across the stone floor, the screeching sound slicing through the silence like a kunai to the ear. He turned the chair, sat down backward on it, arms resting on the backrest as he faced the cell.
Hiruzen and Danzo flinched the moment he said their names.
"Hiruzen. Danzo."
Their shoulders tensed. The instinct to shrink inward, to become smaller, had become second nature.
Naruto smiled. But it wasn't warm.
"I heard you sent Itachi to infiltrate an organization. Akatsuki, wasn't it? Just want to make sure I've got the details right."
They both nodded immediately—sharp, frantic little movements. Delay meant risk. Defiance meant worse. They had learned that, deeply.
Naruto leaned forward slightly, his voice soft and calm, which somehow made it worse.
"You know… It's funny. Most people break in a day or two. Some take a week. You four held on longer than I expected."
He chuckled quietly, almost fondly. Like a scientist admiring resilient lab rats.
"But now? Now you shake when I speak. You flinch at your own names. I didn't lay a single seal on you—but fear itself became your curse mark. Isn't that poetic?"
He stood up slowly, letting the chair creak as it settled behind him.
"So… tell me why. Why did you send him? What was the true reason? Spare me the garbage about duty and sacrifice. You sent a child to walk among wolves. So tell me why."
Danzo, who once carried the cold pride of a man who made "necessary" decisions, was now just a husk. His voice cracked.
"B-Because… he was expendable."
Naruto's expression didn't change, but his eyes darkened.
Hiruzen added quietly, "And… powerful. He could… handle it."
Naruto nodded slowly.
"Powerful. Expendable. So you chose a loyal child to carry the weight of your sins."
He leaned closer.
"There's more to it, right?" Naruto said, pulling a screwdriver from his toolbox.
He didn't wait for an answer.
He nailed it straight into Hiruzen's palm.
"AAAHHHHHHHHHH!"
The scream that tore from Hiruzen's throat echoed off the stone walls—pure agony, nothing noble left in it. His body jerked violently, his eyes wide and bloodshot, his mouth trembling.
Naruto slowly pulled the screwdriver out with a wet squelch, blood dripping onto the concrete floor like ink onto parchment.
He wiped the tool clean on a cloth, calm as a surgeon.
"Now," he said, his tone cold and clear as steel, "tell me the truth."
He didn't even glance at Hiruzen. His gaze was locked onto Danzo—cold, unblinking, merciless.
The man who once sat at the heart of Konoha's shadow government… was now shaking.
In the corner, Koharu and Homura were hugging each other like frightened children, too afraid to speak, too broken to move.
Danzo swallowed hard, his pride long gone. "It was decades ago… after the Second Ninja War," he began. "I met Hanzo the Salamander. He asked for help dealing with an organization called Akatsuki. It was gaining strength in Amegakure. Hanzo feared they'd overthrow him, so I… I made a deal."
"Continue," Naruto said, spinning the screwdriver slowly between his fingers.
The sound alone made Danzo flinch like it was a snake hissing in his ear.
"I crafted a plan. We lured the Akatsuki's leader into a trap. Killed him. But later, I heard Hanzo had been assassinated too. I don't know who did it exactly, but I assume… the remaining members of Akatsuki turned on him."
Naruto's eyes narrowed. "The leader's name?"
Danzo hesitated. His jaw trembled.
"Y-Yahiko," he muttered. "The other two I remember… Nagato and Konan."
Naruto froze.
A flicker of realization. Then rage.
Slowly, like a storm about to break, he walked toward Danzo.
Danzo backed away—step after step—until his spine hit the wall. He couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe.
And then—
CRACK!
Naruto's fist slammed into Danzo's face.
Again.
And again.
Punch after punch. Each one exploding with fury. With grief. With vengeance.
"You're not just cancer to Konoha," Naruto snarled through gritted teeth. "You're a disease to the entire shinobi world. But I won't kill you—not yet. No… that would be too easy."
Danzo slumped, unconscious—face unrecognizable.
But it wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
They all took turns—under Naruto's wrath.
He struck them with sticks, fists, knees—whatever he could find. Stick after stick shattered on their bones. And when they were too broken to scream?
He healed them.
And started again.
Pain.Recovery.More pain.
It was a cycle, a demonstration of true equality.
Even Koharu received no less.
Equal beatings. Equal bloodshed.
No mercy. No favoritism.
This was Naruto's justice.
By the time morning became noon, and noon turned to afternoon, the cell looked like a slaughterhouse.
Blood slicked the floor. Bones cracked. Screams had long since turned to whimpers.
At lunch, Naruto left casually.
He ate like nothing happened.
Then, he returned.
And it began again.
This wasn't punishment.
It was a message.
A new world was being built—and in this world, monsters who hid behind masks of honor would be dragged into the light.
This…was what real equality looked like.