Under the eyes of the crowd, every Sarutobi clan member that Uchiha Chizumi had called out by name was taken away.
Some tried to resist, but the moment a ninja blade pressed against their necks—drawing a thin line of blood—they froze.
Others looked desperately at Sarutobi Hiruzen, hoping the Hokage would show mercy for the sake of their shared bloodline. Maybe he could at least keep them out of Chizumi's hands, even if it meant throwing them in prison.
But Hiruzen didn't even look at them. He averted his gaze. And in that moment, their hope shattered.
"Sigh…"
Once the footsteps had faded and silence returned, Hiruzen let out a deep sigh.
Then he turned to the heads of the Ino-Shika-Cho trio and said wearily to Yamanaka Inoichi, "Inoichi, I'd like a copy of your investigation report sent to me."
He no longer expected Inoichi to side with him as Hokage. He just hoped the three clans would stay loyal to Konoha.
"Yes, Hokage-sama," Inoichi nodded slightly. He was still willing to give Hiruzen some face. No need to burn the bridge entirely.
As the trio walked off, Tsunade's voice rang out behind him.
"Old man, you really need to let the young take charge sometimes. Stop trying to control their thoughts or actions."
Tsunade turned her back to the bloodstains and said with meaning, "The future of Konoha belongs to the young. You're not going to be Hokage forever."
"If you never give them a chance, how will you ever know if they could've done better than you?"
"Shizune, the show's over. Let's go."
"Yes, Tsunade-sama! Wait for me!"
And with that, only Hiruzen, Koharu, Jiraiya, some Anbu and Root ninja, and the remaining Sarutobi clan members remained. A strange silence settled.
Until the sharp tap of a cane echoed.
Mitokado Homura arrived—fashionably late.
Equally exhausted, Homura paused as he took in the scene. He glanced around, searching for Chizumi's presence—but saw nothing.
"He already came and left," Koharu broke the silence. "You missed him by a minute."
Homura's eyes landed on the corpses of the couple lying in the courtyard.
He sighed. "All these people, and no one could stop him?"
"We didn't try," Koharu answered with a gloomy look.
Homura paused, then she explained everything.
"Yeah… there was no point in stopping him. His justice outweighs our authority. If we tried, it would've looked like we were protecting criminals."
He glanced at Hiruzen. "Those people Chizumi took tonight… I doubt they'll survive the night."
Hiruzen cut him off.
"If they really committed those crimes, then they are no longer part of the Sarutobi," he said stiffly. He tried to project strength, but the fatigue and confusion on his face betrayed him.
What did I do wrong? he wondered. How did so many monsters come from my own clan?
…
Two night‑shift officers were yawning—Konoha nights were slow; weeks passed without a case.
"Huh?"
One of them spotted a sizable group approaching the station.
"Wait… " In the dim moonlight he recognized the lead face—and sucked in a breath. "Uchiha Chizumi!"
They watched as Chizumi and company marched in a handful of dejected "prisoners," followed by three more men.
"Is that… Yamanaka Inoichi?!"
"And those two look like Nara Shikaku and Akimichi Chōza—the Ino–Shika–Chō trio!" one guard whispered.
"Rumor is they've sided with Chizumi's 'Absolute Justice.'"
Before Chizumi's rise, no clan would dare back the ostracized Uchiha. Now the guards themselves walked Konoha's streets with small pride.
…
Inside, Shikaku glanced around. "First time I've ever set foot in the Uchiha Police HQ."
Chōza told Inoichi, "We'll wait here—best if we don't go any farther in."
Inoichi nodded and headed to the basement interrogation room, where four Sarutobi sat on cold metal benches. He exchanged a silent nod with Chizumi.
"You're… the Yamanaka Clan Head?" Anko blurted in surprise.
Izumi explained, "Chizumi‑senpai and Inoichi-sama work closely. After Chizumi kills criminals, the Yamanaka probe the corpses' memories to document every crime."
Inoichi asked, "They haven't confessed, have they?"
"No," Chizumi said, arms folded against the icy wall. "They know their fate's sealed and want to make trouble. I was about to get rough when you arrived."
"I figured you'd kill them first and let me dissect memories later."
The four Sarutobi blanched.
"That only happens," Chizumi replied, "when a villain resists judgment. If they cooperate, I'll follow the procedure."
Inoichi cracked a rare smile. "Who starts—me or you?"
"I will."
He strode to Sarutobi Koya, looming over the man's forced calm. Inoichi warned:
"Friendly tip: confess everything. You do not want Chizumi to take matters into his own hands."
Fear warred with stubborn pride on four faces.
"You have ten seconds," Chizumi said coldly. "Stay silent, and I assume you're made of stone."
"Ten… Nine… Eight—"
"Uchiha Chizumi!" Koya spat. "You'll kill me anyway. Spare me the fake trial! Even the Hokage branded me a traitor! Either cut me loose or finish me!"
"…One. Zero."
Chizumi's eyes flared into the Mangekyō Sharingan.
Terror flooded Koya's mind. He went rigid, then shrieked at horrors only he could see. Bound by steel wire, he thrashed until blood beaded at every groove; snot and tears poured as he babbled:
"Stay away—don't come near me… What's wrong with taking money?!"
He relived every life he'd ruined: Konoha shinobi slain by his leaks, Hyūga Hizashi forced to die in his brother's stead, civilians crushed by shoddy construction he'd embezzled from—grieving families whispering accusations into his ears.
"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!!!"
One final, vein‑popping scream—and he went slack, fouling himself.
"Gen… genjutsu?!" he croaked, broken.
"Looks like I'm not needed," Inoichi sighed—the Sharingan could be as ruthless as any Yamanaka art.
The other three prisoners sat paralyzed with horror. Questioning them now was trivial; they confessed everything, even childhood mischief.
Inoichi kept frowning and shaking his head.
"This is what the shinobi world has become," Chizumi muttered. "Until we rewrite it from the ground up, nothing will improve."
"Can your justice really heal this sick world?" Inoichi asked. "Can it give people a sound moral compass?"
"It can," Chizumi said without a hint of doubt.
Inoichi smiled. "That certainty is why I've staked everything on you."
Izumi watched, suddenly realizing Chizumi had never truly been alone; supporters had simply stayed in the shadows—until now, when change could wait no longer.
"Rookies!"
"Here!" Izumi answered by reflex, pen still in hand.
Chizumi looked at the silent Anko. "Your response?"
Startled, Anko understood—Chizumi now viewed her as another follower of Absolute Justice. She swallowed her pride and echoed Izumi: "Here!"
"Two each. Execute them on the spot. Then make three copies of tonight's report: one for Fugaku, one for the Third, one sealed in the police archives."
"Understood!" ×2
…
An hour later, around 4 a.m., Konoha finally fell quiet.
Izumi and Anko left with mixed emotions; the Ino–Shika–Chō chiefs went home.
Chizumi stayed. Rubbing his temples, he was about to move when a quirky voice sounded behind him:
"Meow—Chizumi-sama, bring me along."
Orange Tabby Jujirō perched at his back. "You're going to see that orphaned girl from tonight, right?"
He reminded Chizumi of a similar six‑year‑old case—an abused girl whose mother died trying to kill the beastly father; Chizumi slew the father but overlooked the daughter, who took her own life the next day.
"One oversight," Jujirō finished, "cost an innocent her life—and you blamed yourself for a long time."
Chizumi fell silent half a breath, then said, "Sometimes an onlooker knows me better than I do. Let's go."
"Right away!"
…
Sarutobi Compound.
No one expected Chizumi to return. But he did.
This time, he didn't walk in through the front gates. He used Transparent Release—his silent infiltration technique.
Unseen, he climbed to the balcony of a modest two-story home.
From inside, faint sobbing reached his ears.
There, curled up on a thin mattress, was a ten-year-old girl clutching a tear-soaked pillow. Her body was small, frail, and trembling beneath a blanket.
"Mom… I'm scared…"
"Dad's changed… he hurts me… and he said if I ever tell you, he'll kill you… and then he'll kill me too…"
Sakurako's voice was barely audible as she buried her face deeper into the pillow. Her tiny body shook with fear.
Then she heard footsteps. Heavy. Adult. Not her mother's.
Her fear spiked.
She flung the blanket forward in a panic and tried to run, calling out for her mom.
But after two steps, pain lanced through her body. She collapsed.
"She's hurt," Jujiro whispered—and then went quiet.
His odd voice startled Sakurako. She turned her head, wide-eyed.
Moonlight spilled onto a fat cat.
And behind it—two crimson eyes.
Mangekyō Sharingan.
A genjutsu flowed gently into her mind, weaving a peaceful dream to soothe her fears and seal away memories she should never have had.
Chizumi stared at her.
"Only kids this young can truly forget this genjutsu. If she were older, this trauma would stay with her forever."
Jujiro sniffed the air. "She wouldn't have told her mom. Her wounds smell infected. But what she doesn't know is that her mom… is a killer too."
"Human hearts are strange. Too strange for a cat."
Chizumi asked, "You remember where Tsunade is staying?"
"Yup!"
"Take her to Tsunade."
He gently wrapped Sakurako in a blanket and carried her like fragile glass.
At the balcony, he paused, staring into the night.
"She'll return after treatment. It'll be your job—as the Third Hokage—to explain what happened to her parents."
Hidden nearby, Hiruzen listened in silence.
Chizumi leapt from the balcony. Jujiro followed.
…
Outside the room, Hiruzen stood frozen.
He felt no anger. No blame.
Just one question:
Could a 'good man' really have done what Chizumi did tonight?
The answer hit him instantly.
No.
If more people were like Chizumi, the world wouldn't be so broken.
Another thought crossed his mind:
Am I even qualified to be Hokage anymore?
…
"Tsunade-sama, you've been drinking again after gambling? It's almost morning! Aren't you going to sleep?" Shizune pleaded, clearly exasperated.
"I'm stressed. Let me drink it off," Tsunade replied bluntly, gulping down another cup of sake. Her relaxed, slouched posture didn't help the image.
Shizune muttered, "Since when does drinking help anyone stay clearheaded?"
After downing another glass, Tsunade suddenly asked, "Shizune, if someone has the power to fix something—even if it has nothing to do with them—and nobody would blame them for staying out of it… should they still act? Even if it's easier not to?"
Shizune froze for a moment, then thought carefully.
"I think… some things you only understand by doing them yourself. Whether or not they're worth doing, whether or not they matter—you figure that out through action."
She scratched her head awkwardly. "Sorry, that probably doesn't help much. You're my teacher, after all. You're supposed to be the one with the answers."
Knock. Knock.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Shizune tensed, instinctively ready for trouble—then remembered this was Konoha. Still, who'd come knocking in the middle of the night?
Please don't be Jiraiya again...
With a hint of suspicion, she slid open the door.
"Eh?! Uchiha Chizumi?!"
Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "Well, well. Justice Boy himself. What brings you here? Wait... is that a kid in your arms?"
She straightened slightly, covering up her loose posture.
"Don't tell me…"
"Sakurako. Daughter of Sarutobi Kazuki and Sarutobi Mayuki," Chizumi said flatly. "Her father hurt her badly. She never told her mother. Her injuries are severe and infected."
Tsunade exhaled a long breath, face hardening. "Put her down. I'll take care of it. When she wakes, I'll see if I can help her process everything. If needed, I'll take her on as my student—give her some stability, a future."
Chizumi nodded. "I already placed her in a genjutsu. She's having a good dream. When she wakes up, the trauma will be gone."
Tsunade blinked. "Like the kids in Tanzaku Town?"
"Yes."
Chizumi gently set the girl down.
After a beat, Tsunade muttered, "If the Uchiha all used their Sharingan like you do, people wouldn't fear them anymore. Their reputation would be completely different."
Shizune finally realized what was happening.
"Tsunade-sama, maybe I should handle this. Your hemophobia might—"
"No."
Tsunade's voice was calm, but her eyes had darkened. She lifted the blanket and inhaled sharply at the scent of infection.
With trembling fingers, she slowly undid the child's pants.
"The wound is stuck to the fabric..."
Her hands shook.
Her voice trembled.
"Shizune… get my medical kit. Now."
"Tsunade-sama—" Shizune saw her teacher struggling. The blood. The trauma. It could trigger her condition any second.
"Hurry!"
"Y-Yes!"
…
Jujiro watched as Chizumi opened his eyes again. The look in them was murderous.
But the rage wasn't for Tsunade. It was for the evil this world had allowed to grow.
"I'm fine," Chizumi muttered as the fury faded. His expression settled back into that unreadable calm.
Only when no one else was watching did his emotions ever show—and even then, only for a moment.
He stepped outside, quietly closed the door, and left the inn.
Then he stopped.
To his left, standing twenty meters away on a utility pole, was a small figure in Anbu gear.
Red eyes stared down at him.
Three tomoe.
Sharingan.
"Uchiha Itachi..."
Jujiro bristled. "Is that guy picking a fight? Because he's giving off some serious bad vibes."
Chizumi kept his eyes locked on the figure.
"He sees me as a threat to the village. But he won't move tonight. Someone's watching him."
Sure enough, Itachi turned suddenly to his right—and saw Uchiha Fugaku standing in an alleyway.
"Father?"
Fugaku stepped out openly and looked up at him.
"Itachi. Don't put our clan in danger. If you fight Chizumi, innocent people will get hurt. If you truly love Konoha, you don't want that. Right?"
"You think this will save Konoha—but it might destroy it instead. You know that, don't you?"
Itachi said nothing. He didn't even know why he'd come. His instinct told him Chizumi was dangerous—to the Hokage, to Konoha.
If I ever move against him, it can't be in the village, he thought. I'll have to follow Asuma's playbook. Not Danzo's.
"Understood," he finally muttered.
He gave Chizumi one last long look.
Then his body dissolved into a cloud of black crows.
Fugaku exhaled in relief. He still listens. He's still the son I can be proud of.
He then turned to Chizumi, who stood calmly in the street.
"Chizumi, mind if I ask something before I leave?"
Chizumi didn't respond. So Fugaku asked directly:
"How is it that whenever you confront the Hokage, you always walk away clean? They never lay a hand on you. Why?"
Chizumi looked over and replied coldly:
"If you have to ask that question, you'll never understand the answer."
Fugaku frowned. "Why not?"
"Because you're insecure. You doubt yourself. You carry shame when you stand before the Hokage. Your convictions are spineless. You fold under pressure. You once tossed your four-year-old into battle just to force his Sharingan to awaken."
Chizumi listed every failure without mercy.
"You can't even figure out how to be a decent father or clan head—and you want the key to power?"
"Go back to the Academy. Take six more years of ethics. And bring your neurotic, illiterate son with you. He needs the lessons even more."
Fugaku: "..."
~~~
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