"Dad, who is that man…?"
Ino, standing beside Yamanaka Inoichi and watching Uchiha Chizumi walk away, finally whispered her question, confusion written on her face.
Inoichi withdrew his gaze and answered, "His name is Uchiha Chizumi."
Then—
He crouched and spoke to his seven‑year‑old daughter with gentle earnestness:
"Ino, sometimes the grown‑ups in this village make mistakes. But Uchiha Chizumi is different. His convictions keep him from committing any act that violates justice."
Inoichi sighed softly. "He's one of the very few truly good people left in Konoha. He may use methods you can't yet understand—extreme ones, even—but they will never be used against the innocent."
A rare smile tugged at his usually stern face. "So when you grow up, Ino, you must be kind too."
Ino nodded, half‑understanding.
Unable to stop herself, she looked back at what was once their "home," now reduced to rubble, and complained, "But… where are we going to sleep tonight?"
Seeing the terrifying gashes carved by wind blades across the Yamanaka compound, Inoichi's eyes clouded.
He had never liked Danzō or Root.
Now his opinion of Root had plunged far below zero.
…
Elsewhere
Izumi, following nervously behind Uchiha Chizumi, felt guilty—she had been completely useless all night.
She had wanted to charge into Root's encirclement the way Clan Head Fugaku did, but not to stand with the Hokage against Chizumi‑senpai—she wanted to stand with Senpai himself.
That was wishful thinking. With her frail limbs and meager strength, she could not even break through the Anbu cordon.
Simply not dragging Senpai down was already her limit.
Glancing at Chizumi's profile, she saw two vivid scratches of blood on his cheeks. Flustered, she took out a faintly scented white handkerchief.
Just as she mustered the courage to offer it—
Footsteps sounded behind them.
"Tsk…" The cat Jūjirō on her shoulder scoffed, "Here comes a cat‑hating lout. Just smelling him makes my fur bristle, nya."
A moment later Fugaku's voice rose behind them. "Chizumi—"
Izumi's brows pinched together.
Tonight her opinion of Uchiha Fugaku had crashed: how could the clan head side against Senpai in a crisis like this?
Fugaku saw Chizumi keep walking, as if he hadn't heard.
His stiff, expressionless face showed a flash of helplessness.
"Chizumi, like you, I don't wish to see the Uchiha wiped out in some future massacre," he called to the back ahead of him. "That tragedy's source is the conflict between the village and our clan.
"Only by uprooting that conflict in advance can we avert disaster. That is the peace I pursue as clan head. In your words—isn't that a form of justice?"
Chizumi's reply came, slow and cold:
"You want me to approve your pitiful compromise—your cowardice toward the evils of the shinobi world?"
"When the word 'justice' comes out of your mouth, is that supposed to be some sort of comedy act?"
"You almost made me laugh."
Fugaku fell silent.
It seemed the holder of "Absolute Justice" would never understand him.
Chizumi ignored him and walked on.
Izumi hurried after him with Jūjirō.
…
Through the notifications of his system, Uchiha Chizumi could tell exactly how many Sharingan Danzō had burned through with the forbidden Izanagi to save his own life.
Tonight four "Danzō has been killed" notices had appeared: two by Chizumi's Lava Release, two, surely, by the "Heaven's Fire of Retribution."
After the second death by those flames, no further notice came—meaning Danzō had evaded them somehow.
But evasion could not truly escape that fire.
Branded by the Mangekyō Sharingan, Danzō would pay every second for his sins, and Chizumi could faintly sense the brand's location.
Danzō's soul was burning without pause.
For all eternity he would taste that agony—alive or dead, in the shinobi world or the afterlife.
"Uchiha Izumi."
Chizumi's voice snapped Izumi, handkerchief in hand, to attention.
"HERE!!" she blurted.
"If, one day," Chizumi asked coolly, "I let you personally kill Shimura Danzō, would you dare strike down a former high official of Konoha with your blade of justice?"
"Absolutely!" she answered without a heartbeat's delay.
He went on with words she barely understood:
"Then prepare yourself. The endless evil within Danzō is an untouched dragon's hoard—and for 'Absolute Justice,' it is treasure.
"Whether the sapling of Absolute Justice thrives depends on what you dig from that hoard."
In Chizumi's eyes, Danzō's role had changed:
If he died by the hands of a budding Absolute Justice, that would be his only contribution to the shinobi world.
At last Izumi grasped something.
"Senpai… Danzō is still alive?"
"Barely," Chizumi said. "Clinging on with tricks—but worse than dead, crippled."
Izumi murmured, thoughtful, "Then… he can never do evil again?"
Suddenly Chizumi asked, "Rookie, a villain suffering extreme torment every moment and unable to harm anyone further—does justice still need to purge him?"
Izumi was startled; she sensed a test.
"Yes, it does!"
She nodded firmly, face solemn. "If the villain isn't executed, justice cannot be done for the innocent! We're only enforcers of justice—we have no right to forgive the murderer on the victims' behalf!"
"Correct. You barely qualify as a believer in Absolute Justice," Chizumi said—praise, even if his tone remained icy.
…
At the same time
Sarutobi Hiruzen, finally able to breathe, did not return to the Sarutobi compound.
Instead he headed for the Anbu base.
An Anbu had told him Danzō was there, though his condition was… strange.
The moment Hiruzen entered, faint, familiar screams echoed.
When he reached a sealed chamber, he froze.
Because before him lay—
half of Danzō.
~~~
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