Chapter 40 – The White Fang's Funeral
The village was cloaked in silence.
Not the silence of peace, but the heavy, suffocating hush of mourning.
At the heart of Konoha, people gathered, shinobi and civilians alike, their heads bowed as the incense smoke rose toward the pale sky. The White Fang of Konoha, Sakumo Hatake, lay in rest.
His death had struck deeper than any kunai. The man who had carried the village through countless battles, whose blade had once been a beacon of hope, was gone.
Kakashi stood stiffly at the front, his small frame betraying none of the storm inside. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed on the coffin as though staring hard enough could keep it closed forever. By his side, Akira stood quietly. His Byakugan was not active, but his eyes seemed to hold a deeper glow — a silent promise that someone, at least, had seen Sakumo's final struggle.
Behind them, Fugaku's stern face softened as he watched the two boys. He placed a hand lightly on Akira's shoulder, a gesture of silent support. The Hyūga head bowed deeply, his clan in full mourning dress. Even the proudest clans of Konoha had turned out, proof of the man's influence.
Yet, within the crowd, the whispers hadn't stopped. Murmurs of Sakumo's failure still lingered like rot. To many, his death was tragedy; to others, confirmation of the rumors.
When the rites ended, the people dispersed slowly, leaving behind only the closest mourners. Kakashi remained rooted in place, until Akira gently guided him away. The boy's hand on Kakashi's arm was steady — stronger than it should have been. Kakashi looked up at him briefly, and though no words passed, something unspoken tied them closer than before.
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Later – Hokage's Office
The silence here was different, but no lighter. Hiruzen stood at the wide window, pipe in hand, watching the thin trail of smoke rise from the village below. Behind him, Danzō lingered in the shadows, as if he belonged more to them than to the room.
"It spread too quickly," Hiruzen murmured at last, voice heavy. "The whispers about Sakumo's failure… this wasn't natural."
Danzō did not pretend otherwise. His one eye glinted faintly. "It wasn't. I made sure of it."
The Third's shoulders stiffened. "You admit it, then."
"Yes," Danzō said plainly. "I spread the truth to every ear willing to listen. I sharpened it until it cut."
Hiruzen turned, his pipe lowering. "Why, Danzō?"
"Because of the boy," came the answer, quiet but sharp as steel.
Hiruzen's frown deepened. "Akira."
Danzō stepped closer, his voice low. "He already stands at the center of too much strength. Fugaku. The Hyūga leader. Now Jiraiya has taken him as his student. And then Sakumo… the White Fang himself, with his popularity, his reputation. Their bond would have made the boy untouchable. With that many voices behind him, even you could not control where the winds of succession blow."
Hiruzen's jaw clenched, smoke curling from the forgotten pipe.
"You've always spoken of balance," Danzō pressed on, his tone harsh, "but Akira threatens that balance. If left unchecked, his backers could rally the village around him. He could one day stand as Hokage — not your disciple, not your chosen path. I acted to prevent that."
The Third's voice hardened. "And in doing so, you destroyed a man who was loyal to Konoha until his final breath."
"I destroyed nothing," Danzō replied coldly. "Sakumo destroyed himself. I only reminded the village of his weakness. If he could not withstand their judgment, he was unfit to shape the future."
Hiruzen's hands tightened around the pipe. He turned back to the window, watching the last traces of incense vanish into the air. "I permitted your whispers because I thought Sakumo's will was unshakable. That he could weather it. I did not believe he would…"
"Take his life," Danzō finished. His tone held no regret, only a chilling certainty.
Silence stretched between them.
At last, Danzō moved toward the door, his cane tapping softly against the wood. He paused with his back to Hiruzen, speaking one final time.
"The White Fang was strong. But strength unchecked becomes dangerous. Even the mightiest tree must be cut down if its roots grow too deep."
The door closed, leaving Hiruzen alone in the smoke-filled room, the weight of the village pressing heavier on his shoulders than ever before.
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