The air between them grew heavy with the weight of Yakushi Nono's desperation. Her voice, usually composed and clinical as befitting the "Walking Maiden" of the intelligence world, was now frayed at the edges.
"Do you know where the seven children from the orphanage went?"
Yagami's response was immediate and devoid of comfort. "Of course. They are currently undergoing integration at Root."
"I can't get anywhere near the Root facility," Nono said, her hands tightening in her lap. "Can you tell me what kind of training they are facing? What is Danzo doing to them?"
"What training do you think Root provides? It's all very standard," Yagami replied, his voice a low, rhythmic drone of cold facts.
"Standard anatomical dissection of fresh corpses, standard forced fratricide to cull the weak, the standard systematic erasure of human emotion. It's a pity they're orphans; otherwise, the curriculum would include sending them home to slaughter their own kin."
In his mind, he added a silent footnote: Just like Uchiha Itachi.
Nono felt a sickening jolt in her chest. To a high-level operative like Fox, these atrocities were merely "standard" line items in a training manual. To a human being, every one of them was a soul-crushing violation. These were four-year-old children—children she had tucked into bed and promised a future.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. She steadied herself and asked the question she dreaded most: "Root training has an attrition rate. Out of my seven children, how many will they actually officially induct?"
Yagami tilted his head, the fox mask reflecting the dim moonlight. "Root currently has ten official slots. Orochimaru takes one, leaving nine. From what I've gathered from C, five of those are reserved for seasoned adult recruits. The remaining four are for the 'pure' seeds raised from childhood. Out of this batch of twenty toddlers, only four will remain at the end."
He paused, letting the math sink in. "The other sixteen? They serve a vital purpose. They will be the final 'live targets' for the chosen four. After years of eating, sleeping, and training together, a bond inevitably forms. Killing that bond with a ritual blade is the final step. It's the only way to truly cautatize the heart."
Yagami remembered the original timeline's Sai—how he had been forced to kill his brother, Shin, to become a "perfect" tool.
"Mathematically," Yagami continued, "your contribution of seven children yields a survival rate of 1.4. Perhaps one whole survivor and a few salvaged parts from another? Or maybe 0.9 and 0.5. A disabled ninja can still be a remarkably effective tool in the right hands, don't you think?"
Nono knew Fox was a predator, but the sheer, clinical detachment with which he dissected the slaughter of children left her cold.
"I want to save them," she whispered.
But Nono wasn't Tsunade. She didn't have the Senju pedigree or the Sannin prestige. She was a woman who had traded her life for the safety of an orphanage, only to find the deal had been altered.
"Haha," Yagami laughed, a dry, metallic sound. "Walking Maiden, your tradecraft is top-tier, but your combat power is... negligible. What's your plan? Disguise yourself as Danzo and walk through the front door? Even I have to keep my head down when I'm inside that base. Unless..."
Nono lunged at the opening. "Unless what?"
"If you want those children to live, there is only one way: keep weakening Root until the structure collapses under its own weight."
"How? Tell me how."
Nono's hatred for Root was a slow-burning fire, but she lacked the leverage to fight Danzo directly. She had spent years trapped in a cycle of trading secrets for the orphanage's survival.
"Yakushi Nono," Yagami said, his tone turning sharp, "opposing Root from within is a death sentence if you're caught. Why should I trust you not to sell me out to Danzo to save yourself?"
Nono didn't offer a strategic defense. Her intuition told her that Fox's cruelty was a shell—a necessary armor for a man living in the throat of the ANBU. She decided to speak to the man beneath the mask.
"I know you're working for Vice-Commander Yellow Dog. I know this is a power struggle for the soul of the ANBU. You have the strength, the backing of the Hokage, and a seat at the table. I have nothing. I only want a place where orphans can grow up without being turned into weapons. I want to raise more children like kurumi. If a woman with nothing left to lose isn't trustworthy, then no one is."
Yagami didn't press her further. Her desperation was the best collateral he could ask for.
"I need intel on every ninja in the Shimura clan," Yagami commanded. "Specifically the Jonin."
"Five days," Nono said firmly. "Meet me here."
...
Five days later, Nono delivered. Yagami retreated to the basement of the tavern to pore over the files.
The Shimura clan currently boasted fifteen Jonin. However, the data revealed a glaring disparity. Only eight were "true" Jonin with proven records. The other seven were "watered-down" appointments—ninjas who had lucked into an S-rank mission credit and were fast-tracked through political patronage.
These "water-Jonin" were the ultimate products of nepotism. Lacking the skill for frontline combat, they were shuffled into comfortable administrative roles or high-prestige, low-risk positions like the Guardian Shinobi of the Daimyo. It was the same in every world: the bureaucracy was a haven for the well-connected. While the real workers bled on the front lines, the "relatives" enjoyed power and air-conditioned offices.
Yagami's eyes locked onto two names: Shimura Kobira and Shimura Ryo.
They were currently serving as Guardian Shinobi for the Daimyo of the Land of Grass. Luck was on his side—Shimura Ryo was one of the "water-Jonin."
A few nights later, Yagami felt the familiar tug on his contract chakra. He hurried to the underground training hall and summoned Baici and Baiyou. With practiced precision, he was reverse-summoned to the grassy plains of the Land of Grass.
Kappa Ghost, Envy Ghost, and Sorrow Ghost were waiting for him.
"We found the capital," Yuka said, pointing toward the horizon. The Land of Grass's capital was nomadic, moving with the seasonal grazing of the Great Herds. "The Daimyo has set up a temporary encampment nearby for the night. This is our best window. A temporary camp is never as secure as a permanent fortress."
She handed him a detailed layout of the camp, marking the Daimyo's central pavilion and the stations of the Guardian Shinobi.
"There are twelve Guardians in total," Yuka explained. "Eight are Leaf ninjas, and four are the Daimyo's personal retainers. Among the eight Leaf ninjas, we have our targets: two Shimura Jonin and two Shimura Special Jonin. The complication is the eighth man—a ninja from the Hyuga clan."
Yuka's reconnaissance was flawless. She had the numbers, the positions, and the identities. Now, it was time for the "White Ghost" to deliver the killing blow.
"The Byakugan is a problem," Yagami admitted. "But every wall has a crack. A Hyuga from the Branch House has a blind spot in their field of vision. We're going to exploit that. We'll use a classic 'lure the tiger from the mountain' tactic."
Yagami understood the Byakugan better than almost anyone—his own was a pure, unsealed eye of the Main House. He studied the map for a moment, then looked at his team.
"I can't do this as a lone assassin. I need the three of you to coordinate with me."
Uzumaki Kaicho's eyes hardened with resolve. "We've been ready for this since the day we left the ruins of our home. Tell us the plan, White Ghost. How do we take them down?"