Releasing the C-rank ninjutsu, Wind Release: Great Breakthrough, had been effortless. So much so that an excited thought crossed Yuta's mind: Could I handle a B-rank Jutsu?
He looked down at the ninjutsu scroll in his hand, his heart pounding with a sudden ambition.
With his innate talent for wind nature transformation, a chakra reserve that dwarfed others his age, and his precise chakra control, Yuta was certain he could master all the techniques his father had left behind. And he could do it quickly.
After a moment of hesitation, he decided there was no time like the present. He would practice here, at home.
'It should be fine,' he reasoned, glancing at the courtyard. 'The tree Father loved is already split in half. What are the odds I'd use a jutsu that rips it right out of the ground?'
He was just about to form the first hand seal when a flicker of movement caught his eye. Two figures now stood silently in his garden.
Every hair on Yuta's body stood on end.
His father's old teammates sometimes visited, always bearing gifts of home-cooked food or milk. But they were polite. They always knocked.
This silent, materializing entrance was the signature of only one type of shinobi: the Anbu… or the Root.
Yuta highly doubted he was important enough to have drawn the personal attention of the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi.
That ruled out the Anbu.
'Damn it. Don't tell me I'm already on Danzō's radar? Is my simulated life becoming reality?'
'Wait,' he corrected himself, a cold dread settling in his stomach. 'It can't be Root. The Third Hokage's reign is still new. Danzō hasn't even established Root yet.'
'If not them, then who?'
Heart hammering against his ribs, Yuta slowly turned around. The moment his eyes landed on the visitors, he froze, a jolt of shock locking his joints.
That face.
The man's eyes were not yet bandaged. His limbs were whole—no cane, no tell-tale wrappings on his arm. But that severe, unmistakably gloomy face… It was a younger Danzō Shimura.
So, with no Root lackeys to send, the man himself came. In a twisted way, that makes sense.
'Seriously? Am I some kind of prized specimen? In the simulation, it made a warped kind of sense because I was his grand-nephew. But now? I'm a nobody. Just another orphan from the Shimura clan. How did he even find me?'
'Do you have some kind of fetish for parentless children, Danzō? Is this the start of some 'He pursues, I flee, I can't escape even with wings' tragedy?'
A sliver of logic pierced his panic.
This wasn't the future Danzō, the man who would become the "Darkness of Konoha." He hadn't yet formed his black-ops organization. Perhaps he wasn't entirely beyond redemption. Or was this the beginning?
Was he already scouting for his future army of loyal tools?
Yuta's mind raced, searching for an angle, a way out. A grim conclusion became apparent: he had no moves to make. He was utterly outmatched.
"Stop gawking and come greet Lord Danzō!"
The sharp voice came from the man standing beside Danzō. Yuta looked up, feigning confusion.
'Who is this old man?'
He looked familiar… the current head of the Shimura clan.
'Ah. Now it all makes sense.'
'Of course. I've been hiding here since Father died, never setting foot outside the Shimura compound. There's no way Danzō would have noticed me on his own.'
'You. You led him right to my doorstep, you bastard.'
Despite the legion of profanities screaming in his mind, Yuta schooled his features into a mask of timid obedience.
He took a few hesitant steps forward, slightly bowed his head, and murmured,
"Greetings, Lord Danzō."
Danzō said nothing. He simply watched Yuta, his gaze a physical weight, heavy and analytical. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
Finally, Danzō spoke, his voice low and stern, brooking no nonsense. "Yuta Shimura. Will you become my student?"
The question hit the clan head beside him like a physical blow. The man visibly stiffened, his eyes widening in stunned disbelief.
'You… if you had said you were seeking a disciple, I would have presented my own son to you on a silver platter! Why go through this charade? My boy is just about to enter the Academy; he needs a teacher of your caliber!'
Though Danzō was only in his twenties, he was a student of the Second Hokage.
He was the current Hokage's right hand, a powerbroker standing at the very peak of the village. The benefits of such a connection were immeasurable.
The opportunity was lost. The clan head could only seethe internally before shooting a venomous glare at Yuta.
'What are you waiting for, you idiot boy? Accept!'
Yuta, oblivious to the clan head's internal fury, was convinced Danzō had lost his mind.
'You. Shimura Danzō. The future root of all Konoha's darkness, the self-appointed "savior" who will bear all sin… want me as your student? Somethings fishy'
'Did you drown your sorrows in sake after losing to Hiruzen and never quite sober up?
He knew this version of Danzō wasn't the monster he would later become, but the cognitive dissonance was staggering.
So… the question remained. Should he accept?
After his life simulation ended, Yuta had sworn a solemn vow: he would have nothing to do with Danzō. If their paths ever crossed, it would only be so Yuta could end him.
But that plan hinged on one crucial thing: becoming powerful first.
'What kind of cruel joke was this?' The final boss had just walked into his starter village and was offering him a tutorial.
Seeing Yuta's silence, the clan head snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut.
"Yuta! Lord Danzō has asked you a question! Answer him! Do you want him to repeat himself?!"
Danzō remained silent, his eyes boring into Yuta, waiting.
He was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. An orphaned boy, no matter how talented, would never refuse the patronage of a Hokage's student. The outcome was a foregone conclusion.
'Danzō and the clan head barge into my home, and he asks me to be his student out of the blue… What is this, some kind of badly written plot twist?!'
Swallowing the bitter taste of resignation, Yuta plastered a look of stunned excitement across his face.
"R-Really?" he stammered, his voice filled with feigned awe. "I… I can truly become Lord Danzō's student?" He took a sharp, eager breath. "I accept!"
He looked up, his eyes shining with manufactured hero-worship. "I want to become a splendid shinobi, just like you, Lord Danzō."
Then, as if remembering his place, he bowed once more, the word feeling like ash on his tongue.
"Sensei."
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