"You'll regret it…"
At those words, the corners of Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado's mouths twitched.
Hiruzen had changed a lot lately. Familiar, but also strangely unfamiliar.
Danzo, though, was still Danzo.
The moment Hiruzen said anything that didn't line up with what Danzo wanted, the same line came out of his mouth like a reflex.
Like some pre-cast jutsu that always triggered at the perfect moment.
"Will I?"
To their surprise, Hiruzen didn't snap back at Danzo Shimura. He nodded instead, looking genuinely serious.
"Alright," he said. "Tell me why I'll regret it. If you're right, I'll listen."
"…Huh?"
Danzo froze like someone had slapped him mid-sentence.
Wait, that's not how the Hokage game worked.
You were supposed to bark back that you were the Hokage, refuse to hear him out, and then the two of them would glare at each other until Danzo stormed out.
Then he'd go back to Root and curse Hiruzen in private…
And then, in some mysterious incident later, he'd seize the Hokage seat and show off his ceremonial robe just to spite him.
Oh.
Right.
Root was getting dismantled.
No robe. No grand finale.
Still…
Was this old monkey really that trustworthy?
After what happened at the training field yesterday, where Danzo had been publicly criticized and forced into making a promise, he'd gone home and thought it through again and again.
Something still felt wrong.
If he had been Hiruzen, he would've used that momentum to crush Danzo completely.
Promises? A "fair chance" to compete for Hokage?
Who would remember that?
Root's problems had been exposed in front of everyone, and Hiruzen had already made it official that Root would be dissolved.
Even if Danzo wanted to play games, he didn't have the leverage anymore.
Koharu and Homura weren't going to defend him. In the shinobi world, if you were wrong, you paid for it. That was how it worked.
So when Danzo came in hissing today, part of it was pure struggle. A last grasp at the future he felt slipping away.
But now…
"Are you really going to keep your word?" Danzo couldn't help the flicker of guilt that crossed him. He shoved it down, forced his thoughts into order, and answered seriously.
"If you carve out twenty core jonin, these so-called Konoha Commissioners, then the Hokage's power will be split up between them. How does that protect the authority of the Hokage's office?"
"Hiruzen, maybe you think it's beneficial, but it's clearly irresponsible. All jonin must answer directly to the Hokage."
He said it cleanly, the way he actually believed it.
Hiruzen watched him in silence.
A moment passed.
Then Hiruzen sighed, shaking his head like he was watching a talented kid waste himself.
"I thought you had something better."
He tapped the pipe lightly, eyes calm. "I understand your logic. More people means power gets divided, divided means power gets lost. That's it, right?"
Danzo nodded, righteous as ever. "Yes. What's wrong with that? Isn't it true?"
"The real reason power gets diluted," Hiruzen said, "is overlapping responsibility and blurred ownership."
He lifted his pipe and began packing it with tobacco, unhurried, as if this was a lecture he'd given too many times.
"Or, in words you understand, that's exactly what Root became under you."
"It overlapped heavily with Anbu, and it operated under the Hokage's banner. Over time, in some people's minds, your orders started to outweigh mine."
Danzo's face didn't move. "I did that for…"
Koharu and Homura both nodded faintly.
That really was what happened.
Hiruzen flicked his hand, cutting Danzo off. "What I'm setting up with Konoha Commissioners isn't a second leadership."
"They're not a decision-making body. They're a higher-tier execution layer. At most, they have the right to make suggestions."
"If the suggestions are good, I'll take them. If they're bad, I'll reject them."
He looked straight at Danzo.
"Final authority, core personnel authority, resource allocation, emergency response, all of it stays with me."
"As long as we define what each commissioner is responsible for, draw clear boundaries, and build accountability and oversight, the village will run smoother and faster."
Hiruzen's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Do you worry your own Root captains would betray you?"
Danzo's brow tightened. "That's different. My control over them is absolute."
Then, like he'd decided there was no point pretending, he said it bluntly.
"Hiruzen, I'll be honest. Can you put a Curse Mark on these Konoha Commissioners?"
Hiruzen actually laughed. "Danzo, you've soaked in the dark for too long."
"If someone heard you, they'd think Konoha was some kind of slave ranch."
Danzo lifted his chin, unashamed.
He believed in control down to the flesh, all the way to the bone.
"I talk to you about the Will of Fire," Hiruzen said, voice almost weary, "and you probably don't understand it."
"What you're describing is raising private soldiers. All it does is turn talented shinobi into disposable loyalists."
"And Konoha doesn't need disposable loyalists. Konoha needs its shinobi to bloom, to produce value, to become more than tools."
He leaned back slightly, pipe between his fingers, eyes steady.
"When people live under fear and control, they turn into walking corpses."
"Talent becomes mediocrity. Mediocrity becomes dead weight."
"And real geniuses, the ones you can't grind down, only learn hatred from you. They'll store it up until it becomes a threat far bigger than what you were trying to prevent."
Hiruzen let the point land, then added, almost casually, "Even if you put a Curse Mark on Orochimaru, do you really think he'd obey you?"
Danzo frowned, the words catching in his throat.
He wanted to argue.
But somewhere under his stubbornness, a thought scraped its way through.
…He wasn't entirely wrong.
Hiruzen's perspective sat a little higher than his own, like he was looking at the same battlefield from a taller ridge.
"The shinobi world is brutal," Hiruzen said quietly. "It hurts people. It crushes them."
"So the moment you show even a little light, moths will come."
"In an extreme environment, the hunger for hope can outweigh morality, family, even the instinct to survive."
Especially for shinobi who were hollow inside, who'd spent too long thinking of themselves as weapons.
Hiruzen's voice softened, but it didn't warm.
"The Will of Fire is Konoha's core. It's a tool better than any Curse Mark."
"I want you to feel that, Danzo."
Koharu and Homura exchanged a look.
There was nothing wrong with what he said.
And yet… somehow, it sounded cold.
"You've stayed in that little Root box for too long," Hiruzen went on. "Your world is twenty people in circles."
"If you want to become Hokage, you're not managing a unit. You're managing a whole village."
"That way of thinking won't work."
It sounded like criticism.
Danzo heard it like something else.
He couldn't fully grasp it yet, but he could feel it.
This old monkey… was he actually treating Danzo like an heir?
Like he was being taught?
Like he was being handed something real?
Danzo's jaw tightened, greedy in a way he didn't want to admit.
Old man, hurry up and hand over your Hokage secrets.
But Hiruzen stopped talking.
He tucked the pipe between his teeth and started patting through his pockets, like he was looking for a lighter.
Danzo's teeth ground.
Right when it got good, you stop?
He strode up beside Hiruzen, yanked out a flame, and lit the pipe for him.
"Hmph," Danzo snapped. "Getting older and sloppier. Forgetting your things now? You should reflect on that."
Hiruzen burst out laughing. "Sorry, sorry!"
Koharu and Homura looked at each other.
The shock was written plain in their eyes.
No way.
Danzo just lit Hiruzen's pipe.