Outside Hyūga turf, that crimson-lacquered gate looms like a dried-up scab on Konoha's skin.
Danzo Shimura's one good eye squints at the ancient brass knocker.
He tilts his head. Root ninja beside him gets it—charges like a linebacker, boot SLAMMING the gate dead-center.
KABOOM!
Gate flies open. Danzo's cane thunk-thunk-thunks on the cobblestones—each hit a middle finger to the Hyūga name.
What kinda second-rate clan thinks they can make the Shadow of the Shinobi World wait? Y'all really think you're the Uchiha with that evil-bloodline BS?
Danzo's personal "Will of Fire" remix loops in his skull:
Everything I do is for Konoha. These spoiled Hyūga brats need a reality check before they start thinkin' they run the block.
Gate guards—branch-family Hyūga—see the door kicked in, Danzo and his Root goon squad rollin' up. They freeze, lungs on lockdown.
But the Caged Bird Seal cramps their guts—death by brain-fry ain't cute. One bites the bullet, steps up.
"Lord Hokage Advisor, please wait here while I—"
Danzo doesn't even blink. Root ninja grabs the dude like a ragdoll, arm twisted behind his back so fast it whistles.
Danzo keeps strollin'. Any Hyūga who even looks at him wrong? Instant face-plant by Root. Cane keeps the beat—thunk, thunk, thunk—countdown to a clan-wide ego check.
Meanwhile…
Hyūga main-house elders drag a shell-shocked Hiashi (fresh from the Hokage tower) and branch-house boss Hizashi to the Grand Elder's crib.
The brothers are not here for this smoke—elders basically kidnapped 'em.
They hit the white-jade-tiled porch. A whiff of sweet-rot meat hits—raw steak left in puddle water. Throat-coating nasty.
Grand Elder hesitates, swallows hard, pushes the crane-carved door.
CREEEAK—
Sound echoes like a horror-movie jump scare. Every eyeball snaps to the corner.
Grand Elder's crouched there, clutching a blood-soaked rag. On the straw mat? Cloud envoy's ice-cold corpse.
Air turns to Jell-O.
Hiashi's fingers dig into his palms—nails draw blood. Worst-case scenario just went nuclear.
Cloud head honcho dead on Hyūga soil.
Grand Elder sees the posse bust in—rag slips, face drains whiter than the body.
First he panics like a rat in a trap, limbs flailing. Then—SLAP—thighs himself, voice cracking like a stepped-on rooster:
"IT'S A SETUP! SOMEONE'S FRAMING US—THE HYŪGA GOT PLAYED!"
"I swear that Cloud ninja was dumped in my room—I AIN'T TOUCH HIM!"
Elders and brothers backpedal like he's contagious.
Quick eye-contact pow-wow: This pot's too hot. Grand Elder's takin' the L—his rank's enough to satisfy the village.
Sweat pours down the old man's neck, soaks his spine like an ice pack.
He clocks their vibe, straightens his hunchback, chest-pounds like he's about to walk the green mile:
"I'll DIE for the clan!"
"But think, geniuses—hand me over today, real killer strikes tomorrow, next one's YOU on the chopping block!"
"We gotta hunt the bastard down—end this."
Words hit like a brick in a toilet—ripples everywhere.
Everyone stares at their shoes, shadows jittering under the sun. They know the old coot didn't do it.
Dude's a house cat—rules the roost inside the compound, barely leaves the estate, cares about his own skin too much to touch a Cloud VIP.
They're brainstorming when a main-house kid barrels in, pants muddy, voice shredded like he gargled gravel:
"HOKAGE ADVISOR'S HERE—ARRESTING EVERYBODY—ETA NOW!"
Kid spots the corpse—eyes bug out, GASP—then face-plants, skull thunking the floor. Fake faint or real panic? Place your bets.
Second Elder's knees buckle—catches himself, sweat waterfall.
Hiashi and Hizashi lock eyes—both pupils screaming: WE ARE SO SCREWED.
If it was Third Hokage Sarutobi? Negotiable.
But Danzo? Dude gives zero respect to any big clan—including his own.
Cane taps echo closer—thunk… thunk… thunk—hammering heartbeats, air vibrating like a subwoofer.
Cut to…
Makoto Uchiha, mid-pack for his "GTFO Konoha" bug-out bag, spots Danzo in his black cloak, Root army surrounding Hyūga like it's Waco.
Lips curl into a chef's kiss grin.
Original timeline? Sarutobi rolled up—meant room to talk.
Now the Third sent Danzo? No talks. Straight execution.
Top brass just green-lit a clan beatdown—and dispatched the boogeyman of the ninja world.
Makoto gives the chaos a salute, heads home to finish packing. Rest of this circus ain't my problem.
Once Konoha implodes, he's ghost.
When he comes back jacked, it's playtime with all these clans.