"This is absolutely impossible, and we both know why, Hiruzen." Danzō's voice was wrapped in ice, but his eyes were open flames, the kind that wanted to burn everything Hiruzen had just said.
Koharu, despite her issues with him, slid into position beside him as if magnetized.
"Hiruzen. Remember why Sensei entrusted the village to you? He died peacefully because he believed in that Hiruzen. So tell me, do you really have the nerve to sit there and say you'd hand everything over to that girl with the same peace of mind?"
They were directly vetoing the possibility, and they had a filing cabinet full of reasons why.
Hiruzen exhaled through a wry smile. "I'm not hiding where I stand, you both know my position. But let's be practical here. What am I supposed to do when the two strongest people in the village take the same stance, and seven of the top ten fighters are standing in their corner?"
Koharu opened her mouth, then finally closed it. For once, the great Koharu Utatane had absolutely nothing to say.
Silence: the only argument she couldn't win.
Danzō was completely displeased and even... disgusted.
"If that's your stance, then I'm disappointed. Genuinely disappointed." He let the words flow out without worrying about hurting his friend. "Ten years as Hokage, and this is your first real crisis. Your response is 'I don't know what to do'?"
His mind flickered back to that cursed day. Me, who never hesitates... I hesitated just a second. One miserable second. And Hiruzen, who hesitates, picked that exact moment to grow a spine.
Under the table, his hidden hand tightened until his nails bit into his palm.
Hiruzen's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Disappointed? Disappointed? You want to talk about what I've faced? Do you have any idea what this hat weighs, Danzō? Every single day, I decide who lives and who dies. Every. Single. Day. You think those aren't crises? You think those aren't real?"
For a beat, it almost landed.
Then Danzō was even more annoyed. "Nobody forced you into that chair. If it's such a burden, get up. I'm sure there are a thousand shinobi in this village who'd love to put on that 'heavy hat' and relieve you of your suffering."
"But you haven't. Which means you chose this and chose to hold those lives in your hands. So stop playing the martyr, Hiruzen. For once in your life, stop hesitating and call it what it is."
Their eyes locked and neither blinked.
Koharu and Homura suddenly found breathing to be a complicated task they weren't sure they remembered how to perform. Because this wasn't a council meeting anymore, rather, this was a detonation with a delayed fuse.
Danzō broke first, but only to look down at his own fist, still clenched on the table like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth. "You stood there, Hiruzen. You had the chance to end it before it grew legs. But no, you talked about peace and understanding like either of those things ever built a village."
"We had such a chance. If we'd acted, we could have cut her growth in half, or even..." He didn't finish the sentence, just looked at Hiruzen.
But everyone in the office understood his meaning.
So, in the end, it all comes back to that day. The day he decided to sit on his hands and 'wait and see,' huh?
Hiruzen didn't immediately fire back. He took a second to think about it before deliberately shaking his head, his eyes going steely.
"Regret? No. I will never, ever regret not being a monster to a kid who hadn't done a single thing wrong. A kid who, even now, has done nothing against this village except be the most stubborn, power-hungry brat we've ever produced."
He nodded to himself, as if his own opinion was the final word on the matter, especially since that 'brat' had just handed him the entire nation of Water on a silver platter, along with a mountain of very nice loot. (The part about the loot is indirect.)
Across the table, Danzō's good eye twitched. "You call it 'willful' when she sneaks in and out of the village like a cat? When she refuses to take orders from anyone? When she's currently holding a loaded political explosive tag that could blow this village apart from the inside? That's not 'willful,' Hiruzen. That's clearly a threat."
This was no longer a meeting but a really awkward, high-stakes lunch date between two ex-friends, with Koharu and Homura stuck at the kids' table, silently praying no one asked them to pick a side.
After a few agonizing minutes, the temperature in the room finally dropped from 'volcano' to 'merely sweltering.' Homura seized his chance, clearing his throat like a man about to ask his boss for a raise right after a round of layoffs.
"Right, now that we've all had our say," he spoke, his voice squeaking just a little, "Hiruzen, we need a concrete answer. Are you handing her the hat or not? Yes or no. Pick one."
He went straight for the jugular, figuring that if Hiruzen was going to just hand over the village, all their scheming was pointless anyway.
Danzō, for his part, felt a strange flutter in his chest. Anticipation? No, no. Absolutely not. It was just… research.
He was merely testing Hiruzen's resolve. If the man was willing to give up the Hokage seat without a fight, then he was clearly too weak to sit in it. It was logic, not greed.
At least, that's the lie he'd been telling himself so long it had taken root in his shriveled little heart.
And Hiruzen? He was caught in his own little hamster wheel of a dilemma. Should I hand over power for the good of the village and avoid a civil war? Or should I hold on to it because, well, is a teenager who sets things on fire for fun really ready to be the leader of a military superpower?
That was his struggle. It was never about him wanting to cling to power. He was sure of it, absolutely, 100% sure.
•••
•••
The F4 could deliberate all they wanted. It changed nothing about the real center of attention in the current ninja world.
Azula rolled her shoulder, feeling the satisfying ache of a fight worth fighting.
Across from her, the Raikage's chest heaved, steam rising from half a dozen fresh wounds he'd been forced to seal with his own lightning.
Scars he'd carry forever.
"You know," she called out, a smirk playing on her lips, "this is fun. But not quite what I pictured when I imagined fighting you."
She meant it.
Every slash, every burn she'd carved into him was her signature. Years from now, when someone asked A who'd marked him so thoroughly, he'd have to answer: her name, spoken aloud.
A little immortality.
"Hmph." The Raikage's teeth gleamed through his grimace. "And here I thought you'd have learned not to underestimate an old man by now."
Truth was, they'd both taken damage.
Azula's breathing had gone uneven a while ago; her techniques burned through chakra like oil through paper, and the fatigue had started creeping in around the edges.
That's when he'd caught her. A hit here, a blow there. Nothing clean, but devastating enough.
Still, when their eyes met across the cratered battlefield, neither looked away with anything less than respect.
A realized something during this fight, something that loosened the knot of tension he'd carried for decades: she wasn't trying to kill him.
She was playing.
Fighting because the fire in her veins demanded an outlet, because the clash of power against power felt good. So he'd stopped holding back too and cut loose.
And gods help him, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this alive.
For a while—neither could say how long—they forgot there was even a reason for this.
Azula broke the silence first.
"So. Have you thought about it, Raikage?"
She didn't wait for an answer, just started laying it out plain.
"I alone can go toe-to-toe with you. Tsunade alone is enough to carve through your elites like they're training dummies. Mito-sensei?" A pause, a flicker of something almost like fondness. "She could erase your country and Iwagakure without breaking a sweat. She just doesn't like the mess."
She then offered an alternative.
"You've heard how we handled Kiri after they surrendered. It's not shameful, A. It's smart. Better than us killing each other over nothing when we both know how this ends."
The words hit harder than any punch she'd thrown.
Because he did know. Had been trying not to know, but the truth sat heavy in his chest now, undeniable after hours of matching her blow for blow and still walking away with nothing but a draw.
Fifty-fifty. That's the best he could hope for against her alone.
And if he allied with Iwa and Suna? Hiruzen handled Ōnoki. Tsunade handled the Kazekage. Then what? Tajima, Mito, Danzō, Torifu, Kagami, Konoha heads of different clans along with their clansmen, and the whole damn Uzumaki clan are waiting in the wings.
He couldn't see the path to victory anymore—just the path to annihilation.
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
Ayo, I started to fall in love with my Danzo, and I finally managed to fight this fight that made me stuck for a while, although she didn't woke her Mangekyō, but I don't want to make anything feel forced.