Naruto : Blazing Legend

Chapter 21: The Crumbling Gambit

The shadows beneath Konoha's streets had always been Danzo's domain, but tonight they felt different—hostile, almost mocking. His carefully orchestrated plan was unraveling, thread by thread, and the taste of impending failure was bitter on his tongue.

Root's numerical advantage had always been its strength—over five hundred operatives compared to the ANBU's mere three hundred. But numbers meant nothing when quality was lacking. Danzo's ranks were filled with the desperate and the discarded: civilian-born shinobi whose talents had plateaued, academy dropouts hungry for purpose, and broken veterans who'd lost themselves in the darkness. Only a handful of elite jōnin commanded respect, perhaps twenty more held the rank of regular jōnin, while the rest were fodder—chūnin and genin who'd never see the light of true recognition.

It should have been enough. The White Fang was just one man, however legendary.

Three hours had passed since Danzo's last report, three hours of sipping cold tea and watching his empire of whispers crumble. The silence from his subordinates spoke volumes—when Root operatives had nothing useful to report, it meant their carefully laid plans were falling apart.

"Enough," he muttered, rising from his desk with the creaking joints of a man who'd spent too many years in underground chambers. "No further disturbances tonight. Report at dawn—six sharp."

The masked operative bowed and vanished, leaving Danzo alone with his thoughts and the growing realization that Hiruzen's counterstrike had been swift and decisive. In his dreams that night, he stood before the Hokage's desk, not as a supplicant but as its rightful occupant. The fantasy felt hollow now, tinged with the taste of defeat.

---

The Hokage's office had never felt so much like a prison. Rei shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Hiruzen's weathered face lit up with enthusiasm, the discovery of the young Uchiha's mastery over four chakra natures having sparked something dangerous in the old man's eyes.

"Remarkable," Hiruzen murmured, leaning forward with predatory interest. "Four nature transformations at your age... I haven't seen such potential since—" He caught himself, but the comparison hung in the air like smoke. "I'd be honored to share my experience with you, young Rei. The village needs shinobi of your caliber."

Rei's heart sank even as his face brightened with feigned enthusiasm. "Thank you, Hokage-sama! I would gladly give my life for Konoha—nothing would make me prouder than to serve the Will of Fire!"

The words felt like ash in his mouth, but they had the desired effect. Hiruzen's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and what followed was an hour-long discourse on duty, sacrifice, and the sacred flame that supposedly burned in every true shinobi's heart.

An hour. Sixty interminable minutes of philosophical rhetoric while people's lives hung in the balance outside. By the time Rei stumbled from the office, his eyes were bloodshot and his mind reeling from the sheer intensity of Hiruzen's passion.

The cool night air hit him like a physical blow, and he found himself running—not toward any destination, but away from the suffocating weight of expectation that had settled on his shoulders. His body flickered through the village streets, the Body Flicker Technique carrying him past startled ANBU who gave chase until they realized he was simply a traumatized teenager fleeing to the safety of home.

Later, soaking in scalding bathwater, Rei made a solemn vow: "Never again. I'll be the most apathetic, lazy shinobi this village has ever seen. Let Kakashi handle the enthusiasm from now on."

What he couldn't know was that his performance had sealed his fate. In the Hokage's private chambers, Hiruzen was already planning Rei's future—a future that involved far more personal attention than any sane person would want.

---

Dawn broke gray and cheerless over Konoha, matching Danzo's mood as he rose from another night of restless sleep. His dreams had been filled with images of power and recognition, but they crumbled like sand the moment consciousness returned.

The Root operative who appeared at precisely six o'clock brought news that confirmed his worst fears.

"Jiraiya arrived at the Hatake compound shortly after midnight and has remained inside since. Approximately fifty villagers gathered to counter our planted agitators, resulting in heated arguments that drew even more attention to the situation."

Danzo's jaw clenched as the implications sank in. "Hiruzen moved faster than expected. Continue."

"The three Sannin and Namikaze Minato all departed the Hokage building at approximately the same time. Only the Uchiha boy remained, leaving an hour later in what appeared to be an... enthusiastic state. He used multiple Body Flicker techniques in rapid succession, moving at unprecedented speed."

The mention of Rei gave Danzo pause. A child—barely more than a genin—had somehow become central to Hiruzen's response. The old fool wouldn't rely on a boy unless that boy had provided something valuable. Something that threatened everything Danzo had worked for.

"Double our efforts," he commanded, his voice carrying the cold edge of desperation. "Target families with children in the Academy. Promise them guaranteed graduation regardless of performance. And..." He hesitated, knowing he was about to cross a line that couldn't be uncrossed. "Deploy the insurance policy. It's time to end this."

---

The Hatake compound had become a battlefield of words and wounded pride. Two distinct crowds faced each other across the narrow street, their voices rising in a cacophony of accusation and defense that could be heard three blocks away.

Inside the modest home, Jiraiya sat across from Hatake Sakumo, a bottle of sake between them that only one of them was drinking. The legendary White Fang looked haggard, his usually pristine hair disheveled and his eyes carrying the weight of a man who'd seen too much darkness in too short a time.

"You know," Jiraiya said, words slightly slurred from alcohol, "when I heard someone shout 'I love you, Hatake-sama' last night, I thought you were going to have a heart attack."

Despite everything, Sakumo's lips twitched upward. "It was... unexpected."

"Unexpected? You shot upright like someone had shoved a lightning rod up your—"

"Jiraiya."

"Right, right. Anyway, the kid who suggested it was right. Sometimes people need to hear that they're valued, especially when the world seems determined to tear them down." Jiraiya took another sip, studying his friend's profile. "You're not alone in this, Sakumo. The village knows what you've sacrificed."

"Do they?" Sakumo's voice was barely a whisper. "Sometimes I wonder if saving those three was worth the cost to everyone else."

"That's exactly why you did the right thing," Jiraiya replied firmly. "Because you're still wondering, still caring about the consequences. A truly selfish person wouldn't lose sleep over it."

Outside, the verbal warfare had escalated beyond mere disagreement. What had started as a focused debate about Sakumo's actions had devolved into personal attacks, family histories, and increasingly creative insults that would have been impressive if they weren't so venomous.

"Hatake Sakumo is a disgrace!" screamed a man whose face was purple with rage. "He abandoned his duty and cost the village valuable intelligence!"

"Intelligence?" A woman from the supporting crowd laughed bitterly. "The only intelligence here is recognizing that three lives are worth more than any mission scroll!"

"Those three lives don't matter when their survival endangers thousands!"

"And what about the thousands of lives Hatake-sama has saved? Do they not count?"

The crowds pressed closer, close enough that individual faces could be seen, close enough that old grudges and new hatred could find their targets. Women had arrived to drag their husbands home, only to be caught up in the fervor themselves. Children peered from windows, watching their parents transform into something unrecognizable.

The Uchiha police force had tripled their presence, but they were powerless to act. No violence had erupted—only words, cruel and cutting as any blade, but words nonetheless. In the shadows, ANBU and Root operatives watched and waited, each hoping the other would make the first move.

By noon, the crowd had swollen to nearly three hundred people, their voices creating a wall of sound that drowned out rational thought. The very air seemed to vibrate with accumulated anger and frustration, years of war and loss finding focus in this single moment of controversy.

And still, Danzo's final gambit waited in the wings, ready to strike when the moment was right.

---

In the depths of Root headquarters, Danzo stood before a map of Konoha, red pins marking the locations of his operatives. So many pins, so many loyal followers, yet none of them had been enough to secure victory through conventional means.

"Sir," a masked operative approached, his voice carrying urgent news. "The situation has reached critical mass. The crowds are beyond our ability to control."

Danzo's reflection in the window showed a man aged beyond his years, marked by choices that had led him further and further from the light. "Then it's time for the final act. Send word to our asset. Tell him... tell him that Konoha's White Fang must face the consequences of his betrayal."

The operative hesitated. "Sir, if we proceed, there may be no going back. The Third Hokage will—"

"The Third Hokage will do nothing," Danzo interrupted, his voice carrying the cold certainty of absolute conviction. "Because by the time he realizes what's happened, it will already be too late."

As the operative vanished to carry out his orders, Danzo allowed himself one final look at the village he'd served in shadow for so long. Tomorrow, everything would be different. Tomorrow, he would no longer be the power behind the throne.

He would be the throne itself.

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