"If there's a traitor," he said, voice cold, "they'll answer to me. But we don't accuse without proof. Right now, it's Danzo we face. We lock down the compound—double patrols, no one leaves without my order."
Taro bristled. "Cage ourselves? That's what he wants, cut off. We should hit back, raid one of his posts."
Kaede snapped, "And hand him the excuse to call us traitors? Use your head."
"Quiet!" Fugaku's shout filled the room, his Sharingan flaring for a split second before fading.
"We don't hide, and we don't strike blind. Danzo wants us to move first—give him a reason. We wait, we watch. When we hit, he won't see it coming."
Hiroshi nodded. "Patience, then. But we need more. If Danzo's framing us, we find who's feeding him—him or anyone else."
Fugaku's mind churned. Anyone else. Danzo fit—too well, maybe. The chaos felt sloppy for Root, too scattered. Fights, thefts, rumors—it was almost personal.
"Dig into it," he said. "Every incident, every lead. If it's Danzo, we'll bury him. If it's another…" His voice dropped, lethal. "They'll pay in blood."
The elders gave sharp nods, rising to leave. Fugaku stayed, staring at the lanterns as their light flickered. Danzo's shadow loomed, but something else gnawed at him—a faceless enemy, closer than he liked. The Uchiha wouldn't fall to this. Not while he led them.
...
Souta slipped out of the Hyuga Compound as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink.
The gates creaked shut behind him, the stoic guards giving him a curt nod as he flashed a lazy grin their way.
The air outside felt looser, less suffocating—no more manicured gardens or pale-eyed stares tracking his every move. Just the crunch of dirt under his sandals and the faint hum of the village winding down.
The path stretched on, weaving past a cluster of small houses, their windows glowing faintly as families settled in for the night. Souta kept his pace easy.
He rounded a bend, the path dipping toward a patch of trees, when a familiar flash of red hair caught his eye. Kushina Uzumaki stood a few yards ahead, arms crossed, staring up at the sky like it'd personally offended her. Her hair whipped in the evening breeze, a wild tangle of crimson that stood out even in the fading light. She hadn't spotted him yet, too busy muttering something under her breath—probably cursing out the clouds or some poor sap who'd crossed her today.
Souta slowed, debating whether to duck out of sight. Kushina was a storm—fun, sure, but unpredictable. Last time she'd dragged him into her orbit, he'd ended up with a kitchen full of spicy stew and a bruised ego from her teasing. Still, his feet kept moving, and before he could rethink it, she turned, Her eyes locking onto him like a hawk spotting prey.
"Hey!" she called, voice sharp but grinning. "You! What're you skulking around for?"
"Not skulking," he shot back, closing the distance with a shrug. "Just walking. Didn't know I needed your permission, Kushina."
She huffed, stepping closer, hands on her hips now. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, or I'd knock that smirk off your face. What're you up to? You look too relaxed—makes me suspicious."
He raised an eyebrow, leaning against a tree. "Suspicious of what? Me enjoying a nice evening? Maybe you're the one up to something."
"Psh, as if." She waved a hand, brushing off his jab. "I'm just wandering. Needed to get out and breath some air." Her nose wrinkled, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face before she shrugged it off. "C'mon, tag along. You're better than staring at trees all night."
Souta tilted his head, pretending to mull it over. "What's in it for me? Last time I tagged along, you nearly burned my house down."
"That was one time!" she snapped, cheeks flushing. "And it wasn't even a fire—just a little smoke. Ungrateful jerk." She grabbed his sleeve, tugging him forward before he could argue. "Move it. You're keeping me company whether you like it or not."
He chuckled, letting her pull him along. "Fine, fine. Lead the way, boss."
They fell into step, Kushina setting a brisk pace down the path, her energy buzzing like a live wire.
They'd gone maybe a quarter-mile, the trees thinning out as the path curved toward the village center, when Kushina slowed, her eyes narrowing. She glanced back the way they'd come, then at him, her head tilting like she'd just pieced something together.
"Wait a sec," she said, stopping dead. "You were coming from that way—the Hyuga side. What were you doing over there?"
Souta blinked, caught off guard. He scratched the back of his neck, keeping his tone casual. "Oh, that? Just visiting. Had some business with one of 'em."