Within the Land of Water, the air was thick with dampness, the chill carried by a curtain of ceaseless misty rain.
On a remote, hidden ridge overlooking the fog-shrouded country, Danzo Shimura stood motionless, his lone visible eye scanning the horizon with a calculating coldness.
The rain clung to his robes and trickled down his bandaged face, but he didn't flinch. Ambition coursed through him, as constant and unrelenting as the downpour—seeping into every thought, every plan, every move he had left to make.
In the days when he had served as the Hokage's shadow, Danzo had been busy here.He had quietly exploited the chaos within Kirigakure, embedding Root operatives like seeds in fertile soil. Years of careful cultivation had turned them into a silent network, deeply entrenched in the Land of Water's political fractures.
Now, that network waited for his command, a weapon coiled to strike.
And then came the unexpected.
Not long after his dramatic defection from Konoha, a messenger from the Land of Water delivered a startling invitation:
The Fourth Mizukage himself had extended an olive branch, offering sanctuary—not only for Danzo but for all of Root's surviving forces, with no conditions attached.
The gesture had stirred something deep in Danzo's otherwise frozen heart.
For years, he had anticipated betrayal and opposition, but this… this was opportunity.
With one decisive message, the Mizukage had erased the need for caution, giving Danzo a path forward paved in blood and mist.
Of course, Danzo was not naïve. He knew the reputation of the Hidden Mist Village—its history of brutal purges and silent coups. Treachery ran through its veins like poison. An open hand from Kirigakure often hid a blade.
But Danzo no longer feared blades.
The power he now wielded—the culmination of forbidden techniques, stolen knowledge, and a body reforged through experimentation—made him far deadlier than the shadows he once commanded.
If the Mizukage had laid a trap, it would not be Danzo who was caught.
A cruel, confident sneer twisted his lips.
"Mizukage, huh… let's see who's really in control."
The mist shifted with the wind, and behind him, a platoon of Root operatives emerged from the fog, their blank masks glinting faintly. Silent, disciplined, and utterly loyal, they awaited his orders.
Danzo turned his gaze back toward the distant silhouette of Kirigakure, shrouded in rain and secrets.
The Land of Water, with all its instability and bloodshed, was perfect.
A breeding ground for chaos.
A stage for conquest.
And soon, a stepping stone for his greater ambitions—ambitions that reached beyond Mizukage, beyond Konoha, and perhaps beyond the very balance of the shinobi world.
On the other side of the village, Senju Tobirama rubbed his temples, exhaustion tugging at his sharp features.
The Second Hokage, who had spent the entire night orchestrating Konoha's resource mobilization, now sat in the temporary Hokage office, his piercing eyes locked onto the man before him.
"Such a serious incident occurred in the Hidden Rain Village… and you're only telling me now?"
His voice was low, but the weight of it filled the entire room like a crushing tide.
Jiraiya, towering and battle-hardened though he was, looked uncharacteristically sheepish. He scratched his head awkwardly, his usual confident grin nowhere to be found. He had come to deliver a simple status report on Kakashi and Naruto's surveillance missions—only to casually mention the confrontation between Danzo and Pain in passing.
Now, under Tobirama's sharp glare, he felt like a child being scolded by a strict teacher.
As Jiraiya spoke, detailing the Rain Village skirmish, Tobirama's expression only darkened further. His voice cut through the silence, cold and biting:
"Danzo appeared in the Hidden Rain that day, and you didn't suspect anything? You encountered intelligence involving the Rinnegan, and you thought it unnecessary to report it immediately?"
Jiraiya winced, fumbling for words. "This… I admit I overlooked it. I didn't realize the situation was that dire—"
Tobirama's gaze sharpened like a kunai.
"And Pain… is your former student?"
"...Yes," Jiraiya admitted, his voice soft with guilt. The heaviness in his tone betrayed more than shame; there was sorrow there, too.
The mention of the Rinnegan brought an unmistakable chill to the room. A power spoken of only in myth, now possessed by a man who openly rejected the rule of the Five Great Nations.
"Since you knew," Tobirama pressed, his voice low and dangerous, "that your own pupil possessed such strength—and that he'd already clashed with Danzo—why did you keep silent?"
Each word carried weight. Each word was a reprimand, sharp enough to cut.
Jiraiya had no answer. His lips tightened, and he lowered his head like a scolded child, the usually brash sannin reduced to uneasy silence.
"And Danzo," Tobirama continued, leaning back with a slow, deliberate motion. "He deliberately provoked Pain, didn't he? Why? What was his goal? Could there be a connection between the corrupted Sharingan and the Rinnegan?"
For a moment, even Tobirama seemed fatigued, rubbing his forehead and sighing heavily. The burden of leadership—and the sheer incompetence surrounding him—was wearing thin.
This man before him, Jiraiya… he wasn't weak. Far from it. His strength rivaled the greatest shinobi alive. But his carefree, careless attitude made Tobirama bristle. He was reckless, naïve. A fool with power.In many ways, he reminded Tobirama of Hashirama himself—except without Hashirama's overwhelming strength to balance such softness.
And this fool was close to Tsunade? Tobirama's jaw tightened. The thought alone made his temper flare.
He shook off the irritation and focused. Akatsuki's enigmatic leader… Danzo's schemes… Kakashi's involvement… He jotted notes swiftly, mind racing to piece together the puzzle. This wasn't the village he'd left behind decades ago. It was unfamiliar, chaotic. A nest of serpents.
Beside him, Hiruzen Sarutobi—the Third Hokage—sat quietly, hands clasped, face unreadable. Not once had he interrupted.
Finally, Tobirama broke the silence, voice sharp: "Enough. Tell me everything. Every detail of what happened that day in the Rain Village. Do not leave out so much as a word."
Jiraiya, who rarely bowed his head to anyone, felt a bead of sweat slide down his neck. Compared to Hiruzen, Tobirama was far more intimidating—far more dangerous. He swallowed hard, collected his thoughts, and began a meticulous recounting of events.
He described his infiltration of the Rain Village. The confrontation between Danzo and Pain. Kakashi's intervention. The tenuous resolution. Tobirama didn't interrupt, only wrote, his pen scratching rapidly against the parchment.
And then, Tobirama's keen instincts struck gold. "So… Kakashi acted first?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm.
Jiraiya blinked. "Yes… at that moment, Pain had already begun his assault. Kakashi stepped in immediately to shield Danzo. He didn't hesitate."
Tobirama's eyes narrowed. "Even though you yourself found Danzo's presence suspicious… Kakashi still chose to protect him?"
The weight of the question left Jiraiya speechless. He opened his mouth to defend Kakashi, but Tobirama's icy gaze stopped him cold. He shut his mouth again, frustrated but unable to argue.
Tobirama leaned forward, voice like steel: "Kakashi and Danzo—did they leave together? Where were you then?"
"I… I only regrouped with Kakashi later. We returned to Konoha together," Jiraiya said quickly.
"So Kakashi had ample time to speak with Danzo privately. Perhaps even reach an understanding."
Jiraiya stiffened, unable to counter. The accusation lingered in the air like a shadow.
"Enough," Tobirama cut him off with a flick of his hand, voice curt. "I understand."
"You will maintain surveillance on Kakashi and Naruto. Report any movement immediately. And Jiraiya… if you conceal something again, I will personally hold you accountable."
"Yes…" Jiraiya's voice was subdued. He quickly excused himself, disappearing from the room.
Silence swallowed the office.
Tobirama sat still, pen tapping against the desk, his mind racing. Hiruzen remained as he had been—silent, stoic, his face calm as still water.
Finally, Tobirama spoke, voice low and certain: "Things have escalated. At this point, it's safe to say Kakashi and Danzo are… involved."
Still, Hiruzen said nothing.
Tobirama glanced at him, irritation flickering across his face. His voice softened, though not out of kindness: "Are you angry with me, Sarutobi?"
"No," Hiruzen replied evenly. "Perhaps… this is what a true Hokage looks like."
The calmness of his words, their softness, made Tobirama's fists clench under the desk.
His teeth ground together.
He really wanted to punch this smug old monkey.