Danzo

The door creaked open, and Danzo stepped inside, his cane tapping steadily against the wooden floor. His single eye locked onto Hiruzen, who sat behind his desk, pipe resting idly beside him. The air between them was tense.

"You called me urgently, Hiruzen," Danzo said, his voice clipped. "I was in the middle of something important."

Hiruzen exhaled slowly, setting his pipe aside. "I called you here to inform you that, from this moment forward, you are no longer permitted to keep tabs on the academy's elite civilian students."

Danzo stilled, his grip tightening around his cane. His lone eye darkened, suspicion flashing across his face. "What did you just say?" His voice was low, quiet—dangerous.

"You heard me," Hiruzen said, his tone firm.

Danzo scoffed, his expression twisting into one of disbelief. "You're telling me to stop gathering intelligence on promising children? That I should simply hope they develop into capable shinobi without proper guidance?" His cane struck the floor with a sharp thud as he stepped forward. "Since ROOT's inception, I have identified and cultivated the strongest assets Konoha has to offer. That is how we ensure the village's survival."

Hiruzen met his gaze without flinching. "That was during war. ROOT had its place in the shadows when survival demanded it. But this is an era of peace, Danzo. We no longer need to sacrifice our own before they've even had the chance to grow."

Danzo scoffed, his lips curling in disdain. "Peace? You speak as if the world beyond these walls has changed. The other villages are not resting, Hiruzen. They are rebuilding, strengthening, waiting. Do you truly believe we can afford to be complacent?" He stepped closer, his presence a looming shadow. "ROOT's sacrifices have kept Konoha standing. The Third War, the aftermath of the Kyūbi's rampage—if not for my men operating in the dark, we wouldn't be having this conversation in the comfort of your office."

Hiruzen sighed, rubbing his temples. "I haven't forgotten anything, Danzo. And I am not asking you to disband ROOT. I'm simply saying that we will not be preying on the young talent of this village anymore. Not when we need them alive and thriving. How many children have disappeared into your ranks and deemed as failure, Danzo?" His voice, though controlled, carried years of restrained anger. "You and I both know the survival rate of your operatives is abysmal. We cannot afford to throw away potential anymore. We are not at war. I will not allow you to gut the future of Konoha before it has a chance to flourish."

Danzo exhaled sharply, his lone eye studying Hiruzen's face. Then, his tone shifted, quieter but sharp. "Is this about that boy, Kazeo?"

Hiruzen didn't react outwardly, but Danzo's smirk deepened. "So it is." He tapped his cane lightly. "Tell me, is this his reward for placing first in the academy's first-year exams?"

Hiruzen frowned. "No, it isn't. And how do you know about him?"

Danzo's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Don't be naive, Hiruzen. A boy with no clan, no notable lineage, and yet he outperforms his peers? He learns transformation and clone jutsu in a year at seven? He can already perform tree-walking? Of course I know about him." His voice was smooth.

Hiruzen's frown deepened.

Danzo continued, "He is one of the best seeds in the academy, and I fully intend to take him into ROOT once he graduates from the academy."

The room fell into a heavy silence.

"You will do no such thing," Hiruzen said, his tone unwavering.

Danzo's expression darkened. "You can't stop him from making his own choice."

he countered. "If he wishes to join ROOT after the academy, are you going to deny him that right?"

Hiruzen leaned forward, his voice dangerously low. "We both know ROOT does not offer choices. You do not recruit—you indoctrinate. Once inside, there is no escape, no freedom—only obedience." His eyes bore into Danzo's. "I will not let another child be swallowed by your twisted ideals."

Danzo's fingers tapped against his cane, his mind calculating. He could ignore Hiruzen's orders, continue gathering intelligence as he always had. But this was different. Hiruzen wasn't asking him to stop, he was drawing a line. And though Danzo would never admit it, there was a part of him that understood. Konoha's future couldn't always be built on the backs of the broken.

Hiruzen saw the hesitation and pressed further. "In three to four years, Konoha will have replenished its ranks. In another few, we will have both quantity and quality. We do not need to lose more talent to your 'necessary evil' , I won't allow it."

Danzo stared at him, his face unreadable. Finally, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply through his nose. "Fine," he muttered, turning on his heel. "But don't come to me when your precious peace crumbles."

With that, he strode out of the office, the door clicking shut behind him.

Hiruzen leaned back slightly, fingers reaching for his pipe, but he didn't light it. His mind was clouded with unease.

Danzo was watching Kazeo.

------

(Hiruzen's POV )

Hiruzen took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stared at the door Danzo had just walked through. The conversation had ended, but the war of ideologies between them never truly did.

His fingers tapped against the wood of his desk. Danzo had backed down for now—but the way he had spoken about Kazeo unsettled him. The boy was promising, but ROOT had never been interested in mere talent. They sought something more—loyalty that bordered on blind obedience.

Danzo had plans for Kazeo.

And that was dangerous.

Hiruzen reached for a scroll, unraveling it with a flick of his fingers. It contained the most recent reports on academy students—grades, performance evaluations, skill progressions. Kazeo's name was there, ranking at the top of his class. The boy had no clan backing, no famous bloodline, yet he was growing at a rapid pace. That alone was enough to draw eyes—dangerous ones.

Hiruzen's thoughts darkened. If Danzo knew this much, who else was watching the boy?

The shinobi world had many vultures. Other villages had spies embedded deep within Konoha, and it was only a matter of time before they took notice of the orphaned prodigy. Even within the village, not all eyes were friendly.

With a tired sigh, Hiruzen leaned back, rubbing his temples.

Kazeo is special, he needs protection—before others sink their claws into him.

He glanced toward the window, where the Hokage Monument loomed in the distance. But how?

The boy was still young, still unshaped. If he placed Kazeo under ANBU surveillance, Danzo would see it as confirmation that the boy was a valuable asset. If he pulled the boy under his personal tutelage, that would make Kazeo an even bigger target. And if he did nothing…

Hiruzen's grip on the scroll tightened.

Danzo wasn't one to give up easily. If he was willing to walk away today, it only meant he had another plan brewing.

A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Enter," Hiruzen called.

The door creaked open, and an ANBU operative stepped in, masked and clad in standard black.

"Hokage-sama," the ANBU said, bowing. "Your next meeting is ready."

Hiruzen nodded, and the ANBU turned to leave.

As the operative disappeared, Hiruzen exhaled again, his mind clouded with unease.

Kazeo had no idea what kind of storm was forming around him. But whether he realized it or not, he was already walking a dangerous path. And Hiruzen had to make sure that path didn't lead straight into ROOT's hands.

Or worse.

-------

( Danzo's POV)

As Danzo strode through the dimly lit corridors of the Hokage Tower, his mind was a storm of calculations. His fingers twitched slightly behind his back, a subtle sign of his simmering frustration.

Hiruzen had grown soft—too soft. The man still clung to his ideals of peace, of protecting the so-called "next generation." But the world was not kind to the weak, and peace was merely a fragile illusion.

Stopping ROOT's surveillance on the academy's elite students? That was a mistake.

A dangerous mistake.

Danzo had spent decades ensuring Konoha's strength, cultivating warriors in the shadows, eliminating threats before they could take root. And yet, here was Hiruzen, willfully ignoring the reality of the shinobi world—sacrifices were necessary.

He exited the tower, stepping into the cool night air. The streets of Konoha were quiet at this hour, but Danzo didn't stop to admire the illusion of peace. His mind was focused elsewhere.

Kazeo.

The boy was promising, talented and more importantly, unclaimed. No clan, no bloodline, no backing—yet he had already begun to distinguish himself.

Danzo's eye narrowed. He's either naturally gifted, or he's hiding something.

ROOT had monitored dozens of "gifted" academy students over the years. Some burned out. Some cracked under pressure. And a rare few—the ones who truly understood what it meant to sacrifice for the village—were molded into weapons.

Kazeo had potential. If nurtured properly, he could become an asset. A tool for Konoha.

But now Hiruzen was in the way.

Danzo's pace quickened as he made his way toward a hidden entrance to the underground ROOT base. The moment he entered, several masked operatives snapped to attention.

"Status report," he ordered, his voice cold.

One of the operatives stepped forward. "Surveillance on the elite class has been halted per the Hokage's orders."

Danzo clenched his jaw. So Hiruzen had already moved to enforce his will.

Another operative hesitated before speaking. "Should we continue monitoring Kazeo and the Hayase boy through alternate channels?"

Danzo's gaze sharpened. He could defy Hiruzen outright—but that wasn't the smart move. He had learned long ago that patience was the key to bending the battlefield in his favor.

"No," he said after a pause. "Not yet."

Hiruzen may have blocked his initial move, but Danzo had spent decades navigating the political chessboard of Konoha. There were always other ways to claim valuable pieces.

'If I can't watch him from the shadows, I'll shape the battlefield around him instead.'

A child like Kazeo—talented yet directionless, would eventually seek purpose. ROOT provided that. And if the boy truly was as sharp as his records suggested.

The world would teach him what Hiruzen refused to—that power was the only thing that mattered.

And when that day comes, he will find his place in ROOT.

Danzo turned on his heel, walking deeper into the compound. There was still much to do.

Hiruzen may have won this round.

But in the end, Kazeo would belong to ROOT.

-----

Meanwhile…

Kazeo sat in the library, completely unaware.

The warm glow of lanterns flickered over rows of old scrolls as he absentmindedly flipped through a book, focused on nothing more than the words in front of him.

He had no idea that, beyond these quiet walls, two old men were deciding his fate.

Men who saw him not as a boy, but as a piece on their ever-shifting chessboard.

(To be Continued....)