Danzō's expression darkened instantly.
Within Root, every member was required to abandon their former identity—erase their past, suppress their emotions, and become nothing more than a weapon loyal to him.
For Kagura to ask about his origins was, in itself, a violation of Root's creed.
Danzō let out a cold snort.
The air in the room seemed to freeze.
An invisible pressure bore down on Kagura, suffocating and absolute.
Kagura knew he had stepped across a forbidden line.
But he had already committed.
He closed his eyes.
Chakra surged.
When he opened them again—
Crimson light filled the dim room.
The Sharingan spun slowly within his gaze—two tomoe revolving in eerie harmony.
The red glow illuminated Kagura's young yet resolute face.
For the briefest instant—
Danzō's pupil contracted sharply.
Even he had not anticipated this.
But the shock lasted only a moment.
The oppressive aura receded.
The room's chill softened.
Danzō stood motionless, his single eye locked onto Kagura like a predator assessing prey.
Inside, however, his thoughts churned violently.
"Wood Release… and now the Sharingan…"
His voice was low and coarse, carrying a rare trace of astonishment.
Wood Release—the legendary power of the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju.
Though Kagura's mastery was immature, its potential was undeniable.
And now—
The Sharingan, the Uchiha Clan's fearsome dōjutsu, had awakened as well.
Two of the most formidable bloodline powers in the shinobi world—
Residing within one boy.
Danzō's mind raced.
Kagura was still young. Still fragile.
But with proper cultivation—
He could become a weapon unparalleled.
A counterbalance to the Uchiha.
A decisive asset in Danzō's pursuit of the Hokage seat.
"Interesting… Twelve years old, and already two tomoe?"
A faint, calculating smile curved Danzō's lips.
Such talent—
Properly molded—
Could reshape the political balance of the shinobi world.
And then another thought emerged.
His ongoing experiments with Orochimaru.
Now, a naturally occurring dual-bloodline subject stood before him.
Valuable.
But Orochimaru must never learn of Kagura's existence.
And as for Hiruzen—
Did he truly believe reclaiming "Tenzo" into the Anbu meant Danzō had lost Wood Release?
No.
This one had far greater potential.
Kagura, meanwhile, maintained a calm exterior.
Inside, tension coiled tightly.
Revealing the Sharingan had been a gamble.
In Root, nothing escaped Danzō's surveillance.
Secretly training his ocular power would have been nearly impossible.
And at his current strength—
He was little more than a pawn.
A fly caught in a spider's web.
One wrong move—
And he would be devoured.
"Kagura."
Danzō's voice broke the silence.
"Your Sharingan is both a gift and a trial."
Kagura bowed slightly.
"Please instruct me, Lord Danzō."
"From today onward, I will personally oversee your training. The Sharingan—and Wood Release. Neither will be neglected."
Danzō paced slowly.
"Your growth concerns Root. It concerns Konoha's future."
"I will devote myself fully," Kagura replied.
He understood perfectly.
This "cultivation" was control.
After a pause, Danzō finally answered the original question.
"Your father was Senju Naoki. One of my subordinates. Loyal. Capable. He died deep in enemy territory while completing his mission."
He continued evenly.
"Your mother belonged to the Uchiha Clan."
The confirmation settled heavily.
"You were born with both the Senju and Uchiha bloodlines."
Kagura inclined his head.
He dared not press further.
Questions remained—
But survival demanded restraint.
After dismissing himself, Kagura left the office.
He later learned the burial locations of Chi and Gen.
Standing before their graves, he remained silent for a long time.
Root demanded emotional suppression.
But he allowed himself this moment.
A quiet farewell.
Afterward, he visited Ten.
Ten lay unconscious, pale and still.
His right arm—gone.
The strongest pillar of their squad reduced to this.
Even if he awakened—
What future awaited a one-armed shinobi within Root?
Kagura felt a sharp ache in his chest.
Their squad would likely be dissolved.
Everything had changed.
True to his word, Danzō began personally training him.
The brutality of it became clear immediately.
On the training grounds, Danzō's standards were merciless.
Every flaw was corrected with harsh reprimand.
Every mistake doubled the punishment.
Kagura trained until collapse.
His body bore new bruises daily.
Yet he endured.
There would be no second chances.
Each fall—
Each rise—
Forged his will further.