Uchiha Ren?
Danzō brought Torune Aburame back to Anbu.
Orochimaru wanting to leave made perfect sense—Hiruzen would never allow him to keep experimenting on living people under his nose. That alone was enough to convict him.
But understanding it didn't make Danzō any less furious.
He'd finally "gotten his hands on" a valuable chess piece, and now it was gone for nothing.
Danzō had originally planned to push Orochimaru up the ladder and have him compete with that Namikaze Minato brat—so Danzō could seize control of Konoha from the shadows.
Now everything was ruined… and it had been ruined by a half-grown kid who hadn't even graduated from the Academy yet.
Danzō sat behind his desk, eyes cold, replaying every scrap of intel he'd gathered on Roy. After a long while, he lifted his gaze to Torune.
"The spy I told you to cultivate—has it produced results?"
Torune bowed. "We've already started making contact with Uchiha Shisui."
He pushed up his visor with confidence. "The boy hasn't agreed or refused. He keeps saying he wants to think it over. Give him a little time—work on him ideologically—and it will succeed."
Kids were the easiest to hook with the "Will of Fire" routine.
Become the bridge between clan and village. Save the Uchiha. Save Konoha. Become a hero admired by both sides.
Torune had plenty of experience: there wasn't a young person alive who wouldn't get their blood boiling at that pitch.
"Then hurry it along!" Danzō slammed his cane into the floor with a heavy thunk.
Torune answered low and firm. "Yes."
He bowed again and withdrew.
…
At the same time—
In the Southern Forest, at a training ground near the Uchiha district.
Roy walked through the sun with his hands in his pockets, unhurried, still turning over Orochimaru's life in his mind.
In Akatsuki, he'd been humiliated by Itachi's genjutsu, failed to seize a new vessel, then set his sights on Sasuke—raising him for three years. At the moment of switching bodies, Sasuke killed him. He was forced to hide inside Sasuke, waiting for a chance. And when the brothers finally fought to the death, Itachi—on the brink of dying—sealed him with the Totsuka Blade, burned him with Amaterasu, and ended him completely.
You couldn't deny it.
That man had racked up one hell of a karmic debt with the Uchiha.
And all of it—somehow—came back to the Sharingan.
The bicycle you won't ride is the one someone else stands up and pedals.
Wanting what you can't have is the most maddening thing of all.
Roy reached the training ground and stopped.
Shisui and Itachi were already there, practicing with the same relentless precision—two pairs of eyes Orochimaru had craved and never obtained.
"Nii-san," Shisui said, sweat pouring as he forced himself through the thousandth swing. "Someone's been looking for me lately."
Roy gave a flat hum in reply.
His En expanded, and a heart-worm slipped into Shisui instantly, returning a memory:
A shinobi wearing a cat-faced mask, two short swords on his back—Anbu, no doubt. Whether he was Root couldn't be confirmed without seeing the seal on the tongue, but the way he spoke, the way he coaxed and brainwashed…
It was Danzō's man.
"Focus," Roy said, glancing sidelong at Shisui. "If you're practicing the sword, then practice the sword. Don't split your attention."
Light gathered in his fingertips. He sat on a big slab of stone, and with one hand weaving Wood Release and another shaping Light Release, he began carving a wooden blade with a "light knife," deepening his understanding of Yang Release and stabilizing what he'd just gained.
Shisui jolted and shouted, "Yes!"
His blade came down again, faintly trailing fire—proof that his "Flame Breathing" was finally taking root.
5,323… 5,324… 7,000… 8,000…
Itachi refused to lose pace in front of Roy. He gritted his teeth and swung his wooden sword, matching Shisui step for step.
By sunset—when the sky bled into a gorgeous crimson—several notifications rang out:
[Notice: Your follower "Uchiha Shisui" has improved his swordsmanship. Faith Power +5…]
[Notice: Your follower "Uchiha Itachi" has improved his swordsmanship. Faith Power +5…]
[Notice: Your follower "Uchiha Obito" has become more proficient with the Sharingan. In his sparring match with Kakashi, he landed a clean hit for the first time. Faith Power +7…]
[Notice: Your followers "Uchiha Yashiro"… "Tekkа"… "Inabi" have improved. Due to your aid in awakening their eyes, Faith Power +2 +1 +3 +1 +2…]
Roy's light-blade shaved away thin curls of wood. The wooden sword in his hands slowly took shape—like the way Urokodaki once sat in the snow, carving and cutting, cut after cut.
Finally, he sharpened the tip. The setting sun stained the blade with a vivid red.
Roy spun it once and reverse-manifested it into his unconscious domain—ready to be engraved with "divine script" as a gift for Itachi.
"9,993… 9,994… 10,000!"
Two fire-laced sword arcs tore through the air and struck two wooden posts.
Crack.
Both posts were cut clean through at the waist—smooth as a mirror, with faint scorched traces.
Shisui's and Itachi's "kills."
The boys exhaled hard, wiped their brows, and looked back at Roy with unmistakable pride.
Roy smiled faintly. "Not bad."
They exchanged a grin.
"Nii-san, I want ramen!"
"Me too."
"Fine." Roy grabbed them both by the hand. "Today, ramen's unlimited. Put it on Obito's tab."
Shisui: "…"
Itachi: "…"
They looked at each other, stunned, as Roy dragged them toward the village.
…
On the way to Ichiraku, with the edge of the forest ahead and the Hokage Rock already visible, Shisui finally asked in a careful voice:
"Nii-san… is the clan really that… heartless?"
Roy smiled. "That Anbu with the cat mask told you that, didn't he?"
Shisui's eyes widened—Nii-san knows?
Roy didn't explain. He glanced at a certain inconspicuous patch of ground—where a hidden burrow likely sat—and said lightly:
"Where there are people, there's conflict. Just remember that."
Shisui hesitated, then asked, "He wants me to join them. Should I?"
"Why not?" Roy let go of Shisui's hand and tapped his forehead gently. "Do what you want. If it feels uncomfortable, then don't. That's all."
Shisui thought hard. Itachi watched them, not fully understanding but sensing the weight anyway.
After a moment, Shisui asked one last time:
"Nii-san… aren't you afraid they're bad people?"
Roy stopped. He pointed at the Hokage Rock—at the face of the First Hokage.
"Do you know who that is?"
Shisui nodded. "The First Hokage."
And he rattled off Hashirama's achievements with the pride of a true believer.
Roy listened without interrupting, letting him exhaust himself.
When Shisui finally paused, Roy asked, "Do you know why everyone respects him?"
Itachi answered quietly, remembering Fugaku's stories. "Because without the First Hokage, there wouldn't be today's Konoha."
Shisui agreed immediately.
Roy crouched and pulled both boys close.
"The First Hokage is respected for only one thing."
"He was strong."
He stared into their eyes, each word deliberate.
"He was strong—so whatever he said, whatever he did, was 'right.'"
Shisui and Itachi froze.
Then Roy, with a flicker of moonlit light, turned them into scattered motes and carried them away—
One flash. Another. And another—
And they reappeared beside Ichiraku, in a narrow, shadowy alley.
A calico cat, startled by three people appearing out of nowhere, hissed and bolted.
Shisui and Itachi were still reeling—eyes full of nothing but light.
Roy smacked each of them on the back of the head and marched them straight into the ramen shop.
…
How they ate, neither boy really knew.
Their minds were still filled with light.
Roy fed them, sent them home, and then walked Itachi back.
At home—
Mikoto called from the kitchen, "Give me a few minutes. The pork cutlet bowl will be ready soon."
Roy stepped inside, took off his shoes, and immediately met Fugaku's heavy gaze.
Fugaku sat in his home clothes with a cold cup of tea in front of him—he'd been waiting a long time.
"Father."
"Come. Sit."
Roy sat with Itachi beside him. Fugaku told him what happened in the Hokage's office.
"The Hokage said your assignment to support Jiraiya at the front has been canceled, Ren."
Fugaku stared hard at Roy.
"You know why, don't you?"
Hokage orders—especially wartime deployments—didn't change on a whim.
For Hiruzen to reverse course in a single day and then summon Fugaku just to "encourage" him…
There was no way it wasn't because of Roy.
Roy didn't answer.
Instead, he calmly summoned the kettle, separated a strand of "nen" into Water and Earth, fused them—created a wooden cup, poured fresh hot tea into it, and set it in front of Fugaku and Itachi.
Itachi's eyes, still half-drowned in today's "light," widened again with new amazement.
"…Wood Release?"
Silence dropped into the room like a stone.
Fugaku stared at the ordinary-looking wooden cup—then at Roy—then at the cup again.
Understanding struck like lightning.
So that was it.
If Fugaku were Hokage, he wouldn't send a Wood Release user to the front either.
Wood Release was the First Hokage's bloodline ability—an "insurance policy" against tailed beasts.
If anything happened to Roy in war, the village would lose something irreplaceable.
Fugaku finally lifted the cup and drank.
Then he looked at Roy, voice rough.
"How much more are you hiding from me?"
Roy spread his hands helplessly. "I don't even know myself."
"Dad, you know—when you know too many things, you get choice paralysis. If you want me to list it all, I can't finish in one sitting."
Fugaku: "…"
Itachi: "…"
The room went cold again.
Then Mikoto lifted the curtain and walked out with steaming pork cutlet bowls.
"Stop staring. Eat."
The warmth returned.
Roy ate, washed up, told Fugaku and Mikoto goodnight, and took Itachi to bathe. That night Itachi fell asleep fast—still overwhelmed by the day.
Roy finally got a quiet night.
He closed his eyes—
And returned to his sea of cognition.
When he came back to the Hunter world, he didn't wake naturally.
Someone shook him awake, voice urgent:
"Master—Madam's water broke. I think… she's about to give birth."
~~~
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