218

Danzo Shimura lay still, his right side burning under the tight bandages—a reminder of the damage caused by Hisato's suicide bombing. The pain was constant, but what infuriated him more was his forced inactivity. Bedridden, unable to move freely, he was physically constrained—but his control over Konoha's darker elements, ROOT, remained as firm as ever. Though limited in movement, his power had not diminished. He still controlled the shadows with an iron fist.

A knock at the door disrupted his thoughts. One of his most trusted aides entered, bowing before stepping forward. "Lord Danzo, there's something you should see," the aide said, handing over a neatly folded parchment.

Danzo's cold eyes flickered, though his face remained impassive. "What is it?"

The aide handed him the document with deliberate care. "An essay, my lord. Written by a shinobi named Haruto. It's been circulating throughout the village—among influential figures such as Lord Hokage, Lady Tsunade, Sakumo Hatake, Minato Namikaze, and Kushina Uzumaki."

Danzo's left hand unfolded the parchment, his injured right side making any movement painful. He read the title with growing interest: "Reconsidering the Role of the Uchiha Police Force: A Path Toward a Stronger Konoha."

Danzo's eyes narrowed slightly as he read. Haruto. The name was familiar. The boy had written before—essays about the academy, minor reforms, the village's banking system. All harmless, even helpful, writings. Danzo had known about them, but they had never posed a threat. They were uncontroversial, irrelevant to the true balance of power in Konoha.

But this essay was different. This was an attack.

The more Danzo read, the deeper the anger simmered. The essay raised polite yet dangerous questions about the role of the Uchiha Police Force. Haruto suggested that while the Police Force gave the Uchiha power, it also confined them, restricting their influence within the village. Worse still, Haruto floated the idea of redistributing law enforcement duties to other clans, freeing the Uchiha to assume more significant roles in Konoha's leadership.

Damn him. The boy's previous writings had been harmless, but this was a direct threat to Danzo's careful control over the Uchiha.

For years, Danzo had supported the creation of the Uchiha Police Force, not out of any loyalty or trust, but as a means to control them. The Uchiha were powerful, but with the Police Force, they were confined to a role that kept them from becoming too influential. It was a leash disguised as a privilege, and it had worked perfectly—until now.

Haruto's essay tore at the very foundations of this structure. If the Uchiha began to believe that their role as law enforcers was not an honor, but a limitation, they would start questioning everything—including Danzo's intentions. His years of manipulation, of guiding the Uchiha without them ever realizing they were being controlled, could unravel in an instant.

Why this? Haruto had written innocuous essays before—why had he suddenly turned to something so dangerous?

Danzo's jaw tightened. He finished reading, folding the parchment carefully and setting it beside him. His mind raced. The essay had already reached the worst possible hands—Sarutobi, Tsunade, Minato, Sakumo—people who, if they gave it enough thought, could destabilize the delicate balance Danzo had spent years building. The Hokage, with his soft-hearted openness to new ideas, might actually take the essay's suggestions seriously. Minato, young and idealistic, might even push for reforms. If they began to act on Haruto's ideas, the Uchiha would no longer remain content with their current role.

The Uchiha had always believed in the illusion of power Danzo had carefully crafted for them. But Haruto's essay had the potential to break that illusion, to make the Uchiha second-guess their place in Konoha's structure—and more dangerously, to question Danzo's role in keeping them there.

Danzo's grip on the blanket tightened. Haruto had lit a fuse, and Danzo would not allow it to reach the powder keg.

The boy had never written anything this inflammatory before. Why now? Why suddenly write something that would disrupt the very fabric of Konoha's power dynamics? Danzo couldn't fathom the boy's reasoning, but the damage was done.

As he stared at the ceiling, Danzo's mind shifted into strategy. He still controlled ROOT, and ROOT was more than capable of handling a rogue element like Haruto. His grip on the organization remained ironclad, even from bed. He had operatives everywhere, eyes and ears in every corner of Konoha. Even with his current physical limitations, his power in the shadows had not waned. If Haruto had more moves to make, Danzo would know—and he would act swiftly.

His aide still stood by the door, awaiting orders.

"Who else has seen this?" Danzo asked, his voice like ice.

The aide shifted nervously but responded quickly. "Lord Hokage, Lady Tsunade, Sakumo Hatake, Minato Namikaze, and Kushina Uzumaki. Copies are spreading quickly, my lord."

Danzo's lips pressed into a thin line. The essay had reached the very people who could do the most damage. The Hokage, with his weakness for idealistic thinking, would likely consider its merits. Minato, full of youthful ideals, could rally support behind it. Even Tsunade, though not typically involved in politics, had enough influence to stoke discussion. Once word spread, the Uchiha would catch wind of it, and the doubt would begin to fester.

If the Uchiha started questioning the Police Force, they would no longer see Danzo as their ally. They would see through his manipulation, and his influence over them would vanish. Years of carefully crafted work—wasted.

Danzo's fingers twitched as a familiar coldness settled in his chest. This boy had turned from an irrelevant writer into a threat. And threats to Danzo's control were never tolerated.

"Keep a close watch on Haruto," Danzo ordered, his voice steady but filled with menace. "I want reports on every move he makes, every person he meets. If he so much as breathes a hint of this essay to anyone else, I will know."

The aide bowed quickly. "Yes, Lord Danzo."

As the aide left, Danzo remained still, his mind turning over every possibility. He couldn't afford to act openly, not while he was still recovering and the essay was spreading rapidly. But Haruto had exposed himself as dangerous, and Danzo would not let that go unpunished. The boy had challenged the very foundations of Danzo's control, and though it might take time, Danzo would find a way to neutralize the threat.

Even from his bed, Danzo was not powerless. He still commanded ROOT, and his operatives were loyal, ruthless, and efficient. If Haruto thought his actions would go unchecked, he would soon learn the price of provoking the shadows.

Danzo allowed himself a small, cold smile. Haruto had made his move, even if it was unintentional, he had underestimated the reach and power of of those who he could offend. Danzo had spent decades mastering the art of manipulation, crafting the village's power dynamics in his favor. He would not allow one clever boy with an essay to destroy everything he had built.