Ryosuke stood silently, prepared to speak and explain the confrontation with Danzo. But before a single word could leave his mouth, Uchiha Fugaku stepped forward.
His movement was subtle, yet the weight it carried was immense.
He turned his head and stared at Itachi—his own son—not with anger or sorrow, but something far colder: disappointment.
There was a time Fugaku admired Itachi. The boy was a prodigy. A genius. A future leader. But now? With Ryosuke's rise and what he had accomplished, Itachi's light seemed dim in comparison.
Itachi noticed it, too. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. The intensity of Fugaku's gaze silenced him.
Then, he finally found his voice.
"That man… Danzo Shimura. He stole our Uchiha clan's kekkei genkai. His right arm—it's filled with our Sharingan. He refused clan inspection. He defied justice. And the Hokage… the Hokage defended him," Itachi said, his tone restrained but bitter. "That's why Ryosuke attacked him."
Shisui turned to Fugaku, his voice quiet but sharp. "Clan-head, are you certain of this?"
Fugaku nodded gravely. "Ninety-nine percent sure. He used our ultimate dōjutsu. With his own arm."
A heavy silence fell.
Even Shisui's breath caught. "So… Danzo hated us that deeply…" He looked at Ryosuke then, eyes steady. "Then what you did was justified."
Ryosuke didn't flinch. His voice rang with certainty.
"I'll drag him back. I'll expose that arm to all of Konoha."
Itachi's eyes narrowed. "Even if he's guilty… this isn't your role, Ryosuke. Danzo must be tried by the Hokage. What you're doing—this isn't justice. It's vengeance."
But Fugaku cut him off coldly. "This is Uchiha justice. The Konoha Guard is still our charge. If our eyes were stolen, it's our duty to recover them." His eyes sharpened. "Itachi, step aside."
Shisui nodded silently in agreement.
Itachi stared at them both. The man he once respected most… and the boy he now feared might be right. He said nothing.
Ryosuke didn't wait.
He vanished into the forest, moving like a shadow in pursuit of the rogue elder.
Danzo's trail was easy to follow. Blood. Burn marks. Chakra residue. But still, Ryosuke stayed sharp. The old war hawk was dangerous, even wounded.
When he found him—slumped against a tree, unmoving—he didn't rush in.
It was too easy.
"Dead?" Ryosuke muttered, narrowing his eyes.
No. The man wasn't dead. The subtle flex of chakra in the air betrayed him. Either a clone—or a trick.
Ryosuke formed hand seals swiftly, launching a small but precise fireball at Danzo's body, targeting the torso.
The flames roared briefly—just enough to scorch but not destroy.
And just as expected, Danzo moved.
His eyes snapped open, revealing a three-tomoe Sharingan in his right eye. The old man's lips twisted into a sneer as the reality before him shimmered.
Izanagi. He was using it again.
The fireball struck true—blasting his leg and burning deep—but Izanagi rewrote his fate. Danzo remained alive, though clearly in pain.
Ryosuke's eyes sharpened. So it's real after all.
Danzo pulled himself up, chuckling through gritted teeth. "You think you've caught me?"
He reached into his cloak—his right arm shifting unnaturally. The fabric tore, revealing the grotesque graft of multiple Sharingan embedded into his limb.
The very proof Ryosuke needed.
But Danzo wasn't done yet.
"Wood Release: Root Burial Explosion!"
His right arm pulsed—flesh merging with wood—and suddenly, massive roots erupted from the forest floor, tearing trees apart and surrounding Ryosuke in a twisting vortex of bark and vines.
The forest itself seemed to groan in pain.
Ryosuke raised a brow. "A Root cage? So… you really fused with Hashirama's cells, huh?"
Danzo's grin widened. "I've outlived too many like you, Uchiha. You think justice matters in this world? Heroes die. I survive."
The roots surged forward, threatening to crush everything.
Danzo felt invincible. Izanagi would protect him. He had backup plans—layers of deception. He could always rewrite his death again. He would escape.
But that's when it happened.
A surge of chakra so sharp it sliced the air itself.
A shockwave cut through the trees like paper.
Danzo's right arm—his precious, stolen Sharingan limb—was severed clean off.
He didn't even see the attack coming.
The limb fell to the ground with a dull thud. Sharingan eyes still open, twitching lifelessly.
Danzo screamed—a raw, animalistic howl that echoed through the burning woods.
Ryosuke stood amidst the roots, unmoving.
"You stole from the Uchiha… and now, you've paid the price."
Danzo collapsed backward, clutching his side, struggling to remain conscious. His Izanagi had failed—he had miscalculated. The young Uchiha had not only matched his schemes—he'd anticipated them.
The forest went still.
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