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Danzo Shimura lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts of anger and frustration. The dull ache from his injuries was a constant companion, but it was nothing compared to the seething rage he felt toward one young shinobi—Haruto. The boy, with his idealistic and naive essay, had done more damage than he could ever realize. Decades of careful planning, meticulous manipulation, and subtle maneuvering, all at risk because of a single spark ignited by a child.

Danzo had spent years ensuring that the Uchiha would never rise to threaten Konoha's leadership. He didn't want to control them—that would have been impossible. The Uchiha were too proud, too strong. Instead, he had always aimed to break them, to keep them isolated, a powerful clan whose influence would be forever contained within the walls of their own distrust. The plan was simple—create an ever-growing rift between the Uchiha and the rest of Konoha, a division so deep that there would be no possibility of them reintegrating fully into the village.

For decades, Danzo had quietly fanned the flames of suspicion and paranoia. The Uchiha were meant to remain alienated, to be viewed with mistrust by the village, while also harboring their own growing sense of exclusion and resentment. It was a delicate balance that Danzo had worked tirelessly to maintain. And then came Haruto.

That boy had, in his youthful arrogance, lit a fire with his words. Worse still, Fugaku Uchia had seized upon it. He was taking the essay, using it to unite the clan, to rally them under a shared banner of pride and indignation. Exactly what Danzo had worked tirelessly to prevent. The Uchiha were supposed to remain divided, suspicious of each other, always striving for individual power, but never united as one. Haruto, unknowingly, had given them a reason to come together.

Damn that boy.

Danzo seethed with fury as he thought about how his plans, which had been years in the making, were at risk of crumbling because of one young shinobi's idealism. He had crafted a scenario where the Uchiha would never fully trust the village, and the village would never fully trust the Uchiha. They were supposed to remain fractured, like a glass too delicate to mend. But now, Haruto's essay had provided the glue, and Fanguko was making sure the pieces were coming together.

Danzo knew that killing Haruto wouldn't fix everything. The damage had already been done. The essay had spread far and wide, and the Uchiha had already begun to rally. Fugaku was still there, building momentum. The divide that Danzo had created was slowly starting to shrink, and Haruto's death wouldn't stop the growing movement Fanguko was fanning into existence.

But that wasn't the point anymore. This was no longer about the grand scheme or about keeping the Uchiha in check. This was personal. Haruto had unknowingly humiliated Danzo, disrupted plans that had been in motion for decades, and for that, the boy had to pay.

The upcoming Chunin Exams were the perfect opportunity. The Forest of Death—a deadly, treacherous environment notorious for claiming the lives of promising genin—was the ideal stage for Haruto's demise. Shinobi died there all the time, whether from wild beasts, the dangerous traps hidden within, or from the intense rivalries between competing candidates. If Haruto didn't make it out of the forest alive, no one would question it. His death would be written off as just another casualty of the exams—a talented young shinobi who had pushed his luck too far.

And Danzo had just the right ROOT agent in mind for the task. Someone skilled, experienced, and capable of making Haruto's death look like an unfortunate accident. It would be clean, quiet, and, most importantly, unquestioned. Haruto would simply be another victim of the brutal trials, a shinobi who had gotten too confident, too reckless, and ultimately paid the price.

Haruto's death wouldn't stop Fugaku's ambitions, nor would it completely undo the damage that had already been done. But that didn't matter. Danzo didn't need it to fix everything. He wanted it for revenge. The boy had caused trouble, disrupted the balance of power, and jeopardized the years of work Danzo had put into isolating the Uchiha.

It was true that Haruto's death wouldn't change the tide of events that had already been set in motion. Fugaku would keep pushing forward, and the Uchiha would continue to unify and worst of all, want to work with the village ending their alienation.

But that wasn't the point anymore. Haruto had gotten under Danzo's skin, and for that, he needed to be dealt with. His death would be satisfying—a small victory in a larger, more complicated battle.

As Danzo lay there, thinking about how it would all unfold, a grim smile crept across his face. The Forest of Death would take care of Haruto. The exams were brutal, and death was a common outcome for many participants. No one would suspect anything out of the ordinary when Haruto didn't make it out. It would be just another tragic loss, another name added to the long list of casualties.

And Danzo would have his revenge.

He didn't need to fix everything, but he would make sure that Haruto paid the price for his meddling. Danzo closed his eyes, the thought of Haruto's inevitable demise bringing him a sense of grim satisfaction.

Revenge was coming.