"Not many. One each, just to fill your stomach…"
Hiruzen Sarutobi handed out the rice balls with a warm smile, then put on a mock look of shock. "Hey, save one for me!"
The Patrol Unit burst into laughter.
Danzo Shimura walked up without a word and stood beside Hiruzen Sarutobi, studying the squad in front of him.
After a full day of inspections, he finally understood the structure behind the Patrol Unit.
Three to five shinobi per team, the type who weren't built for head-on fighting but excelled at scouting and detection, led by an experienced veteran as captain. They rotated in overlapping routes, checking the village's outer defenses from different angles.
Their pay came directly from the village, including the cost of custom uniforms and wear-and-tear on ninja tools.
Danzo had asked earlier, blunt as always, whether Konoha could even handle that kind of financial burden.
Hiruzen Sarutobi's answer had been simple.
This wasn't spending money.
This was making it.
In the shinobi world, a steady job with pride attached, stable pay, and equipment coverage was insanely attractive. Even if it only paid half, or a third, of what someone could make taking missions on their own.
But that tradeoff mostly appealed to Chunin and injured veterans.
Jonin were different. They chased the high-paying, high-risk missions. That was how they were wired.
So Konoha's overall "support" cost for the Patrol Unit wasn't actually that high, while the unit itself massively reduced infiltration and sabotage. That was profit too.
Just not the kind you could weigh in gold and shove into a vault, which was why people overlooked it.
"You're all doing well, right?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi looked around the group, voice calm but carrying.
"You've seen what the situation in the shinobi world looks like."
"Spies and scouts from every side could slip in at any moment. The responsibility on your shoulders is heavy."
He lifted a hand, encouraging. "If anything feels off, report it immediately. And if you need more support from the village, don't keep it bottled up. I'll make adjustments."
An Inuzuka Clan Chunin shook his head fast. "Hokage-sama, it's already great! We all love this job."
"A bunch of my clanmates are jealous. They regret not signing up. Even one Jonin said that…"
The Inuzuka Chunin wasn't much in direct combat. His clan technique, Fang Passing Fang, was only decent at best.
But Patrol Unit work highlighted what he was actually good at.
Tracking. Sensing. Reading a trail before it even looked like one.
Hiruzen Sarutobi just smiled and didn't say anything.
The whole point of this proposal was to strengthen village security with maximum efficiency, not to use a blade as a shield.
That was why, even though most Jonin weren't interested at first, and even though a small number had been willing…
Sakumo Hatake had rejected them anyway, strictly following Hiruzen Sarutobi's intent.
It was the best allocation of resources.
"Young man, tastes good?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi gave a light pat to the shoulder of an Aburame Clan Chunin, putting a little extra force into it. "Nice. Quiet. You're good material for counter-surveillance work…"
The Aburame Chunin wore dark glasses and the Patrol Unit uniform, his face blank as stone.
But behind those lenses, his pupils trembled, and his heart practically screamed.
The Hokage noticed me?
I exist? I have presence?
That strange Aburame aura had always been like that. People's eyes slid right off them.
Truthfully, Hiruzen Sarutobi hadn't noticed him at all.
But a seasoned Hokage didn't miss people during a morale-boosting visit. Not if he wanted the unit to feel valued.
As the conversation flowed, something tugged at Hiruzen Sarutobi's thoughts.
Normally, he should've spent more time with the team captain.
The captain was clearly an Uchiha Clan member, older, with only one arm.
A battlefield injury, no doubt.
But an Uchiha at that age…
That missing arm might not have been lost for Konoha at all. It could've been from the Warring States Era.
And if it was from that era, then who was most likely to have taken it?
Hard to guess.
So Hiruzen Sarutobi kept things on work. He didn't mention the missing arm.
Danzo Shimura, standing right there, didn't seem to notice the danger in that silence.
"Hmph. This kind of Uchiha is the most stubborn, the most likely to bite back…"
Then he forced himself to pivot, remembering what Hiruzen Sarutobi had been preaching about softening and dissolving the Uchiha Clan.
Fine. I'll learn. I'll do it your way.
Danzo Shimura dragged up an ugly smile. He tried for warmth, but his voice came out stiff as wood.
"That disability of yours, you got it for the village, didn't you?"
"Konoha won't mistreat anyone who's paid a price for it. Keep up the good work."
The second the words left his mouth, the air went dead.
Not just awkward.
Boiling.
The Uchiha's name was En Uchiha.
He was a real old-timer. By age alone, he was actually older than both Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzo Shimura.
One of the last few survivors from the Warring States Era still breathing inside the Uchiha Clan.
And that arm…
It had been severed in the final battle between the Uchiha and the Senju, cut off by someone using Water Style.
Not many people remembered anymore, because to a certain white-haired Hokage, it had been nothing more than a casual swing of the hand.
After that, the double-tomoe Uchiha faded out of the front lines.
For most shinobi, losing an arm was a death sentence. Even for a dojutsu user, it crippled you in ways pride didn't want to admit.
When the Konoha Military Police Force was formed, En Uchiha refused to join.
The early police force sent its elite Uchiha out on field missions and frontline work to show the village the clan's strongest face.
The clerical work assigned to him was an insult to a man like En. It scraped right across his pride.
So he withdrew. He made ninja tools. Took the clan's thin stipend. Lived quietly, almost like a monk.
And because of that, he ended up outliving most of his generation, his body staying in good shape even as the years piled up.
This time, him joining the Patrol Unit came from two directions.
On one hand, Isshin Uchiha had ordered him to slip in and see what Konoha's upper ranks were really planning.
On the other hand, after Sakumo Hatake finished talking with Fugaku Uchiha, he personally went to En Uchiha and asked him to lend the village a hand.
That feeling, being needed again after so long, had tempted En more than he wanted to admit.
And once he joined, life turned out comfortable.
The Inuzuka Clan and Aburame Clan juniors treated him with real respect as an elder who'd lived through the Warring States Era. They leaned on his planning and adjustments for scouting details and decisions.
They liked hearing his stories, too.
The squad's atmosphere was good. Comfortable. Familiar.
They all knew why he had only one arm.
Which was why, staring at Danzo Shimura's bandaged, corpse-like face, hearing that deliberate tone, remembering years of surveillance pressed on the Uchiha Clan…
En Uchiha felt blood rush up into his head.
He spoke before he could stop himself.
"Thank you for your concern, Advisor-sama. I'll do everything I can to block enemies for the village."
"But I can't take credit for honor that isn't mine."
"This arm wasn't taken by an enemy."
"It was done by the Second."
The awkwardness snapped into something sharper.
Dangerous.
Danzo Shimura's eyes narrowed, thin and lethal.
The Inuzuka and Aburame shinobi swallowed hard without thinking.
En Uchiha regretted it the moment the words were out.
But he was an Uchiha.
Words spoken couldn't be pulled back.
He lifted his chin and went silent, neck stiff with pride.
"Hey, Danzo…"
Hiruzen Sarutobi felt the moment tightening like a noose, and cut in before it could choke them.
He tilted his head, as if he'd just remembered something casual.
"I remember your grandpa chopped my dad once, didn't he?"
Danzo Shimura froze.
What?
Hiruzen, you bastard…
You're still holding onto that?