My Heart, My Path—Clear as a Mirror!

"What do we do with him?" Aburame Muta broke the heavy silence, nodding toward the bound shinobi lying unconscious.

Now that they knew he was likely Root, Muta had no desire to torment him further. They were still, after all, from the same village. Besides, without hard evidence, a surviving Root operative might be the best testimony they had.

But taking along a liability while trying to break through enemy lines was a risk that could cripple their escape.

"No need," Ishiki Kujo said, eyes already scanning the man's vitals. "He won't last much longer. Just like the captain said, he might not even be a real Foundation member."

His tone was calm, clinical. "The seal and the toxin are both active. Even if we bring back his head, the intel's gone."

The man's skin was bloodless. Crimson now trickled from his ears, eyes, nose, mouth—the seven gates of death. Poisoned long before capture, most likely.

These weren't shinobi expecting to survive. If the mission succeeded, they'd take the antidote. If it failed, their bodies would self-destruct before anything could be extracted.

Ishiki had touched him earlier. At that point, the toxin hadn't activated. Now it surged, erupting like wildfire through his system.

As blood streamed, veins bulged on the man's forehead. His skull looked like it was about to burst.

Ishiki didn't bother with further medical effort. He clapped his hands. A large chakra-infused bubble enveloped the body.

And then—crack. A muffled groan. The captive's head exploded within the bubble. Blood, brain matter, bone. All contained, but all there.

All four stared at the corrupted foam, disgust plain on their faces.

"Bury him," Ze murmured. "Still a Konoha shinobi."

"But that leaves us with nothing," Ishiki replied diplomatically. "Even if we make it back, it's just our word against Danzo's."

And who was Danzo Shimura? Trusted wartime advisor, long-standing ally to the Hokage, shrouded in shadows. Hiruzen let him act autonomously more than anyone else in the village.

Even if the Third knew what Danzo was doing… he didn't stop him.

Ishiki didn't understand Hiruzen's game. He feared Ishiki enough to assign him a team of elite clan-born sensors and analysts—perfect for monitoring, maybe even neutralizing him.

But he wouldn't move to stop Danzo from assassinating that same asset.

So were Ze, Tokuma, and Muta just pawns? Collateral in a war of suspicion? Had the Third really sacrificed them just to keep an eye on Ishiki?

If so, Hiruzen Sarutobi didn't deserve to be Hokage.

For the first time, that thought burned clearly in Ishiki's mind.

Everything the Third claimed was for the good of the village. Just like a parent saying "this is for your own good" as they handed their child a blade and a mask.

That was the ideology that created the Foundation—the sewer where all of Konoha's filth festered, in Danzo's grip.

The Third lived in the light. But he wasn't light himself. And perhaps… he'd never even recognized his own darkness.

That was his greatest failure.

Ishiki's words left the others quiet. They knew he was right.

"You mean… Danzo didn't betray the village," Ze said at last, voice taut. "He's just using his authority… for revenge."

"Exactly." Ishiki's mind was clear now. All the errant sparks had finally coalesced into something bright, something sharp.

Maybe this was the moment. The moment to gather allies. To drag the Third and Danzo down from their thrones and bring new fire to the village.

This would be a game. A bloody, brutal one—but fair. And Danzo made the first move.

Ishiki's lips curled into a faint smile. He liked Ze, Tokuma, and Muta. They weren't fools. They had hearts.

So he spoke, steady as a hammer to anvil.

"Whatever you choose after this—I'll respect it. But once we break through the encirclement, and it becomes clear Danzo hasn't betrayed Konoha but acted on a personal vendetta…"

"I will declare war on him."

"A man who abuses power for revenge has no right to lead the Foundation."

His voice was steel. Even in moonlight, he seemed to glow—radiant, resolute.

A light that could only be called justice.

The other three stared at him, stunned. Ishiki raised his fist to his chest like a vow and spoke in a voice that rang like thunder.

"My heart and my path—clear as a mirror! Everything I do is for justice! All of it is for Konoha's future!"

His words cracked across the silence and etched themselves into the hearts of his comrades.

"If it comes to that… I'll leave you," he added. "Because standing beside me will mark you as traitors, too."

But none of them flinched.

In that moment, they felt his courage. It was staggering. The will to become a rogue. The will to burn everything—to cleanse everything—for the sake of the village.

"I'll stand with you," Ze said, eyes blazing. "If this is justice… then I'll follow it."

This was what a Konoha shinobi should be. A true inheritor of the Will of Fire.

"I'll lend my strength," Muta added, solemn for once. "For Konoha's future."

"For the Leaf." Tokuma's voice was quiet, but full of steel.

Ishiki looked at them, gaze steady.

And then—he smiled. A rare, full smile.

"Where the leaves dance, the fire will always burn bright," he whispered. "For Konoha."

Their spirits surged. In that instant, hearts aligned.

This was what bonds were meant to be.

Not a curse, not a chain—but connection. Like the dream of Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo when he founded Ninshū—to let chakra bridge minds, so that people could understand one another.

Tonight, their unity wasn't born of chakra. It came from choice. From knowing each other's resolve. From sharing a cause.

Ishiki would take Danzo down. For Konoha. And yes, he believed it was the right thing.

He looked to the sky, long-limbed and graceful, his silhouette flawless beneath the stars.

Softly, he said, "Perhaps… people only meet because of fate."