Back at the Hokage Tower, the tension finally began to ease.
Hiruzen stood at the edge of the rooftop, eyes half-closed, feeling the distant chakra fluctuations pull farther and farther away from the village. The violent pressure that had weighed on the air only moments ago was thinning, dispersing like storm clouds pushed away by a steady wind. Whatever clash had erupted behind the mountain, it was no longer threatening to spill back into Konoha.
He let out a long, quiet sigh.
For the first time that morning, it was a sigh of relief.
Turning back toward the sea of faces below, Hiruzen allowed a soft laugh to escape him, the sound carrying just enough warmth to calm lingering nerves. His voice, amplified by chakra, rolled across the square.
"Thank you for listening to this old man for so long," he said lightly, one hand lifting in a casual wave. "I won't take any more of your time, though I suppose I've already taken more than enough."
A ripple of chuckles spread through the crowd. The atmosphere loosened, shoulders relaxing, anxious murmurs fading.
Then Hiruzen's tone shifted.
He lifted Danzo's severed head slightly, holding it up where the morning sun caught the hardened features, casting deep shadows across the familiar face that had once stood beside him in power.
"However," Hiruzen continued, his voice firm now, "there is one last thing that must be made clear."
The square grew quiet again.
"The Leaf may spare an enemy," he said slowly. "We may forgive mistakes made in ignorance, even crimes committed in desperation. But under no circumstances, none, will we ever allow a traitor who destroys the village from within to escape judgment."
His eyes swept across the crowd, not accusing, but resolute.
"Let this be a warning."
For a heartbeat, the words hung heavy in the air.
Then Hiruzen's expression softened.
The iron in his gaze faded, replaced by the familiar warmth the villagers had known for decades. He lowered Danzo's head and smiled.
"Alright then," he said with a gentle chuckle. "Off you go. Continue your work, your lives, your routines. The village still stands, and so must you."
He paused, then added casually, "An ANBU drill is being conducted in the back mountain today, so please avoid that area for the time being."
With that, he stepped back.
The massive wall that had risen above the tower earlier began to shrink on its own, chakra seals dissolving smoothly as stone folded back into the structure. From the villagers' perspective, it looked like nothing more than the end of a dramatic display.
The crowd erupted.
Cheers rose, first scattered, then overwhelming. Voices shouted Hiruzen's name, Ren's name, even the Fire Daimyo's name. Relief poured out of the people in waves, the kind that only came after surviving something they hadn't fully understood but had deeply feared.
Gradually, the square began to empty. Families returned home, merchants reopened shutters, shinobi drifted back to their posts. A few curious souls lingered, glancing toward the back mountain with thinly veiled interest, but their curiosity was quickly snuffed out by the presence of ANBU stationed at every approach, masks blank, posture unyielding.
No one pushed their luck.
On the tower, the Fire Daimyo adjusted his robes and offered a polite smile to those still present.
"Well then," he said smoothly, though there was an unmistakable edge of relief beneath his composure, "it seems you all have matters that require your attention. I'll return to my residence for now and inform you when I'll be departing."
Hiruzen inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you for your time, Daimyō-sama."
The Daimyo laughed softly. "All for the Fire Nation."
Hiruzen mirrored the sentiment without hesitation. "All for the Fire Nation."
With that exchange complete, the Daimyo turned and departed with his guards in tow, his pace brisk, his posture stiff. He did not linger or look back.
The reports from the night before, the sight of Danzo's execution, and, most unsettling of all, the vacant, shaken expressions of his own guards when they emerged from behind the wall had convinced him of one thing.
This village of shinobi was not a place for prolonged curiosity.
As the Daimyo's entourage disappeared down the tower steps, Hiruzen remained where he was, watching the village settle back into motion.
On the surface, peace had returned.
Once the Daimyo and his entourage had fully disappeared from the tower, the atmosphere changed almost instantly.
The careful smiles faded and the practiced composure dropped.
Hiruzen turned back toward the others, the weight of everything that had happened finally catching up to him. His shoulders sagged slightly as he exhaled through his nose, eyes sharp once more as they swept across the faces gathered around him.
"What the hell is going on?" he asked quietly.
The words were calm, but there was strain beneath them.
Shikaku was the first to respond. He rubbed his temple with two fingers and let out a long, tired sigh, the kind that came from a night with too many moving pieces and not enough sleep.
"It's Danzo," he said flatly. "Or rather… the mess he left behind."
He glanced at the severed head still resting nearby, then continued, voice low but precise.
"If what Ren said is true, and I don't see any reason to doubt him, then Danzo used Shisui's Mangekyo to cast a Genjutsu on Itachi. A long-term one. Something tied to protecting the village… and to killing you. Or at the very least," Shikaku added grimly, "trying to."
Hiruzen's jaw clenched.
For a brief moment, his grip on the staff tightened, knuckles whitening. His gaze lingered on Danzo's head, and for the first time since the execution, raw anger flickered across his face. The urge to crush it, to erase even the remains of the man who had caused so much damage, surged up sharply.
Then it faded.
Hiruzen closed his eyes, inhaled, and released a slow breath.
"I see," he murmured.
The consequences were obvious. Even a failed attempt would have been catastrophic. An Uchiha clan heir attacking the Hokage in front of the village? It would have ignited everything they had barely managed to prevent. Civil war, extermination, another night of blood.
Before he could speak again, Fugaku stepped forward.
"I don't believe Itachi is fully under the Genjutsu yet," he said.
Every eye turned toward him.
Tsunade's brows drew together immediately, her expression sharp with suspicion. Hiashi's lips curved into the faintest, dismissive smirk. Hiruzen himself remained silent, waiting.
Fugaku didn't flinch under the scrutiny.
"I sensed it," he continued steadily. "Through my Mangekyo. Itachi's chakra flow is… conflicted. There's foreign chakra embedded deep within it, yes, but his own chakra is actively resisting it."
He clenched his fist slightly, as if grounding himself.
"Even now, he's consciously retreating, pulling the fight away from the village. If I'm right, then he's trying to put distance between himself and Konoha so that he doesn't harm the village against his will."
There was a brief silence.
Then Hiashi snorted.
"Of course you'd say that," he replied coolly. "He's your son."
His Byakugan flared to life, veins standing out as he focused on something far beyond the tower.
"From what I see," Hiashi continued, voice edged with irritation, "the Senju heir is forcing the Uchiha heir back through sheer strength. Even that… giant construct."
His eyes narrowed further.
"The defense on that thing is absurd, but Ren is bombarding it with ninjutsu of every element, earth, wind, fire, lightning, water and using other techniques I can't fully identify. He's not trying to destroy it outright, he's pushing it. Steering the fight."
Hiashi glanced sideways at Fugaku. "Straight toward the border."
Fugaku's eyes twitched, not in anger but in understanding.
The implication was clear.
Ren wasn't trying to win quickly. He was controlling the battlefield, forcing Itachi away from civilians, away from the village core, buying time while something else played out.
Still, Hiashi's tone hadn't been accidental.
The quiet tension between the clans flared for a heartbeat, but no one indulged it.
"We don't have time for this," Tsunade muttered sharply, shooting Hiashi a warning look. "Whatever Danzo did, it's still active, and Ren's injured. If this drags on."
Hiruzen raised a hand, cutting her off.
"Enough."
His voice carried weight again, the kind that demanded attention without needing to rise.
"Speculation won't help us here," he said. "We need to see it ourselves."
He turned toward the edge of the tower, gaze locking onto the distant mountains where chakra still rippled faintly through the air.
"Let's get closer," Hiruzen said. "We'll understand what's really happening once we see it with our own eyes."
Without waiting for a response, his figure blurred.
In the next instant, he was gone.
One by one, the others followed, Shikaku with a resigned sigh, Tsunade already preparing herself to intervene if needed, Fugaku with his jaw set tight and Hiashi with Byakugan still burning.
~
By now, the fight had reached the very edge of Konoha's protective barrier.
The air here felt different, thinner, sharper, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Chakra pressure rolled in slow, uneven waves, enough to make the trees along the border creak and bend even without wind. The barrier shimmered faintly, reacting to the sustained clash of two monsters who were far too young to be standing at this level.
Ren felt it.
Not with his eyes or with chakra sensing alone, but with space itself.
There was something wrong just beyond the barrier. A presence that didn't belong, pressed flat against the earth like a parasite clinging to the underside of reality. It was careful, centuries of caution baked into its movements, but not careful enough.
Ren could feel the absence it created. A place where space bent unnaturally, where intent slid instead of flowed.
Zetsu.
'There you are,' Ren thought calmly, even as his body twisted aside to avoid a cleaving swing from Susanoo's oversized blade.
The ethereal sword tore through the air where his head had been a heartbeat earlier, splitting clouds and leaving a shrill vacuum scream in its wake. Ren landed on a jutting stone pillar he had raised moments ago, boots cracking the surface, then pushed off again without pause.
He didn't give Itachi time to recover momentum.
Ren surged forward, chakra flaring as he ran up the Susanoo's arm, feet striking spectral ribs and armor plates as if they were solid stone. Each step was precise, economical. He didn't waste motion.
He climbed.
The Susanoo reacted late, its massive form turning, sword pulling back to intercept but Ren was already there.
He reached the shoulder.
Then the neck.
Then the head.
Ren landed atop the Susanoo's skull and immediately began punching in a wild and brutal manner.
Each strike detonated with compressed chakra and reinforced muscle, shockwaves rippling through the construct's frame.
"Target."
Punch.
"Is."
Punch.
"Here."
Punch.
The words weren't spoken aloud.
They were delivered directly, clean, sharp bursts of intent, slipped through the thin cracks of combat awareness that only someone like Itachi could receive in the middle of battle.
The Susanoo staggered.
Itachi gritted his teeth inside the construct, blood already leaking from the corners of his eyes as his Mangekyo burned hotter than it ever should have this soon after awakening. He felt Ren's message more than heard it, and something inside him shifted.
A pressure eased.
Not gone, but loosened.
'Here…?' Itachi thought, his vision blurring. 'What… is he…'
Ren inhaled once.
Then hardened his arm.
Earth-Yang chakra surged down his shoulder, compressing bone, muscle, and skin into something dense, brutal, almost metallic. The ground below them resonated in response.
Ren twisted his hips and threw the final punch straight into the Susanoo's eye.
The impact was catastrophic.
The entire construct lurched sideways, its balance breaking completely as cracks spiderwebbed across its spectral face. Ren didn't stay to admire the damage, he kicked off at the moment of impact, flipping backward as the Susanoo stumbled through the edge of the barrier.
Ren had already prepared for that.
Multiple earth walls erupted in sequence outside the barrier, angled, layered, positioned with ruthless precision. The Susanoo crashed into them like a toppled mountain, each wall breaking its fall just enough to disrupt balance further.
The giant construct collapsed.
Chakra began leaking from its seams in thick, unstable streams and then, it was gone.
The Susanoo dispersed in a violent rush of fading light, leaving Itachi exposed and standing alone just beyond the village boundary. He swayed, knees buckling as he dropped to one knee, one hand slamming into the dirt to keep himself upright.
Blood flowed freely now, from his eyes, from the corner of his mouth.
His breathing was ragged, uneven. The Mangekyo spun weakly as his chakra recoiled from the strain.
Ren stepped through the barrier slowly.
Every movement pulled at the deep, unresolved pain in his abdomen, a sharp reminder of the spatial wound still resisting proper healing. He ignored it, posture relaxed but alert, eyes never leaving Itachi.
"So," Ren said quietly, voice carrying easily in the open forest, "have your senses returned even a bit?"
Itachi tried to answer.
Instead, his fingers clawed at one eye as his vision swam. His body trembled, not with fear, but with conflict. With something inside him unraveling.
"Da…" he rasped, breath hitching. "Dan… zo…"
Ren nodded, relief flickering across his expression before settling into something gentler.
"That's right," Ren said. "It was that bastard Danzo. He used Shisui's Mangekyo on you. Twisted something pure into a leash."
He took another step closer, stopping just out of arm's reach.
"But don't worry," Ren continued softly. "We'll fix it."
Ren raised his hand toward Itachi.
"So come with me, Itachi," he said earnestly. "Come back to us. Give us a chance to help you."
His voice dropped, just slightly.
"I can't handle the village on my own, my friend. I need you."
For a moment, time seemed to freeze.
Itachi's breathing slowed.
The roaring urgency in his head dulled, replaced by something fragile and terrifying.
Clarity.
Slowly, struggling, Itachi lifted his hand toward Ren, fingers trembling as if pushing through water.
Hidden beneath the earth, Zetsu panicked, it felt it.
The shift.
The fracture in a plan that had been polished for centuries.
The black half's thoughts sharpened instantly. 'No. This is wrong. This shouldn't be happening.' The white half still wore its lazy amusement, but even it felt the danger now.
Ashura incarnations always spoke of bonds and Indra incarnations always fell to hate.
But this…
'If Ren takes him back,' the black half calculated coldly, 'I lose the current Indra. I lose this cycle.'
That could not be allowed.
For the first time in a long while, Zetsu chose to act directly.
The entity split.
The white half surged upward toward Ren, oozing through roots and soil with deceptive speed. The black half peeled away toward Itachi, silent and precise, intent on latching onto the weakened Uchiha mind before it could fully recover.
They moved fast.
Too fast for most.
But not for these two.
Ren's eyes shifted slightly.
Itachi's lips curved.
Both of them, still injured, still exhausted, smiled coldly at the exact same moment.
"Got you," Ren muttered.
"Got you," Itachi echoed, voice steady for the first time in minutes.
The trap closed.
~~~~~
{Phew, next chapter, finally, Zetsu fights.}
{Guys, this arc is finished on pat.}