"Hiruzen, what do you think?"
For once, Utatane Koharu didn't rush to be the first voice in the room. She had learned her lesson. Being the first mouse doesn't get the cheese—it gets the trap.
Sarutobi Hiruzen took a deep breath.
"Danzo, perhaps what you're saying is... hypothetically possible."
"But I will not condemn a shinobi of Konoha over speculation."
"Obito is an outstanding ninja who upholds the Will of Fire. I choose to trust him."
His tone carried weight—not the shaky diplomacy of an aging Hokage, but the firm stance of a leader who remembered what it meant to protect all his shinobi.
Danzo's face twitched, barely suppressing his irritation. He and Hiruzen had known each other far too long—long enough that Danzo knew exactly what Hiruzen was thinking the moment he lifted an eyebrow.
Yes, sure. He could cover for Hiruzen's smoking habit, cover for his bad decisions, even cover for that incident with the exploding shadow clone at the hot springs.
But this?
This wasn't just political shielding—this was planting a time bomb inside the village.
Force Obito into Root? Uchiha Fugaku would turn his horse around mid-charge on the battlefield just to storm the council chamber. And if that happened during a war?
Forget the Nine-Tails—this would turn into the Uchiha Revolt: Beta Test.
No, not now. Not yet. Maybe after the war...
...Nope. Still a terrible idea.
Yes, Hiruzen had flinched for a second. Mangekyō Sharingan was Madara's weapon of choice, after all. And there's one thing leaders fear most—power they can't leash.
But the thought vanished just as quickly.
Obito wasn't some rogue agent. He was assigned to Minato specifically to strengthen Minato's base of power—and he'd risen to the occasion. The Uchiha boy had been instrumental in assassinating a Mizukage. That wasn't a footnote—that was a headline.
A stronger Obito meant more sway in the Uchiha clan. And more sway in the Uchiha meant more stability under Minato.
Plus, imagine the rumors if they did suppress Obito now. What would the Hyuga say? The Aburame? Wouldn't they wonder if they were next?
Hiruzen didn't want to be remembered as the Hokage who turned the village into a surveillance state.
He wanted to retire, sip tea, guide Minato gently like a shadow Kage behind the scenes. Was that so much to ask?
Power was still power. The Uchiha were still Konoha's strength. Amputating a limb for no reason? Utter foolishness.
Kakashi, listening silently, raised an eyebrow behind his mask.
Now that's a plot twist.
He hadn't expected Hiruzen to go full "Will of Fire" mode so cleanly. But then again...
This wasn't post-Nine-Tails-attack Konoha. Back then, Hiruzen had been a worn-down relic, patching holes with outdated ideology. Now? Now the old man still had pieces on the board—and more importantly, an endgame.
The context was different, and so the choices were different.
Danzo, meanwhile, felt like he'd just bitten into a poisoned onigiri.
Betrayed. Again.
"I carried the darkness of this village so you could be Hokage in the sun, basking in applause and public festivals," Danzo growled inside. "And this is how you repay me?"
"Hiruzen, you'll regret this!"
He snapped, the words echoing like a kunai clanging off steel.
"I'm the Hokage!" Hiruzen countered, standing tall.
The tailed beasts? That was gray territory.
But threatening Obito? That cut too close. It jeopardized his rapport with Minato—and Minato was his legacy.
If that bond cracked, then his vision for the Will of Fire would end the moment he stepped down.
Danzo's hands clenched at his sides. This wasn't just professional sabotage. This was personal.
Again. Always again.
Back when they were under Tobirama, Hiruzen was chosen to live, to lead. Danzo volunteered to die... and Hiruzen got the glory.
And now, after all these years of sacrifice, still—no matter what Danzo did—Hiruzen remained one step ahead.
But fine. Fine!
He had his trump card. His right eye.
Uchiha Kagami's Sharingan—the spoils of that doomed mission.
And soon... very soon, once Orochimaru perfected his Hashirama cell experiments, he'd finally claim what was rightfully his.
He'd be the Hokage Konoha deserved.
But he still had one play left today.
"Obito," Danzo said, voice sharp. "Let me ask you this—Mangekyō grants unique abilities. What are your two dojutsu?"
Obito met his gaze... and said nothing.
Kakashi practically heard the silence.
Obito wasn't just refusing the question. He was throwing it back in Danzo's face.
Because seriously, who answers an obvious trap like that?
"Uchiha Obito!" Danzo barked. "I am a senior advisor of Konoha. I command you to answer!"
Wow, Kakashi thought. Someone skipped breakfast and took it out on democracy.
Danzo acting like a Mangekyō-sharingan-fueled teenager with authority issues? Classic.
"Danzo-sama," Kakashi said, stepping forward like he was offering to hold a bucket for someone about to puke.
"Is it really necessary to interrogate Obito about his eye powers?"
"I mean... don't you already have a Sharingan in your right socket?"
Kakashi tilted his head just slightly, mock-thoughtful. Like he was teaching Genin-level sarcasm 101.
"And if I'm not mistaken... still just a regular ol' three-tomoe?"
He paused, casually flicking imaginary lint off his flak vest.
"Could it be that you're just itching to upgrade?"
"Jealous, maybe? Hoping for a little 'Root mission gone wrong' so you can yank Obito's Mangekyō and find out what his trump card is?"
Danzo's pupils shrank.
He knows.
But years in politics had made him slippery. He recovered in half a second, his expression twisting into outrage.
"Absurd! How dare a mere child slander the Hokage's aide like this!"
Utatane Koharu slammed the table with trembling hands.
"You insolent brat!"
"That Sharingan was a scar earned during a mission with Uchiha Kagami!" she cried.
"Danzo was grievously injured, Kagami gave his life! That eye is a tribute—a symbol of his sacrifice for Konoha!"
Mitokado Homura chimed in next, almost tearing up.
"If not for the sacrifices of the older generation, would you even have the luxury to be so arrogant?!"
"Mock us if you must, but mocking Danzo's scar? That's low—even for you, Hatake!"
Kakashi blinked slowly.
Wow. He almost felt bad.
But then again, the award for "Best Dramatic Performance While Deflecting Guilt" goes to...
Minato stepped forward, calm but firm.
"I believe in my student."
"If Kakashi dares to question something so sensitive, it means he has reason."
"Elder Danzo, if you truly have nothing to hide... then remove the bandages and prove your innocence."
"If Kakashi is wrong, I'll personally bear the consequences."
Silence.
Kakashi's eye narrowed beneath his hitai-ate.
Minato had just stepped into the blast zone.
Because this wasn't a skirmish anymore. This was high-stakes.
Once the accusations flew, Danzo and the elders would retaliate through every channel—official, unofficial, and downright shady.
Kakashi could already see it:
"Hatake Kakashi: the disrespectful punk who defamed a war hero."
Villagers would start whispering again. About how he was White Fang's son. About how neither of them knew their place. About how Kakashi was arrogant, unstable, unworthy.
The public loved a hero. But they loved a scandal even more.
And Minato?
With three high-level elders out for blood, standing against them could crush his future as Hokage before it even began.
But Minato didn't flinch.
Because Minato remembered the Sand battlefield. He remembered the boy who threw his future away to save his teacher.
And he wasn't about to let that be forgotten.
Minato wouldn't let the Will of Fire become a weapon of convenience.
Not while he was still standing.
And definitely not while Danzo's secrets were still hiding behind those bandages.