The Hokage Tower
The morning had begun as most did, with the arrival of an ANBU operative. Masked, silent, kneeling on one knee in the center of the office. The parchment he carried was already inked with the latest movements of the clans and the warfronts.
Hiruzen read without haste, pipe smoke curling above him. The Uchiha had pressed for deployment, the Hyūga elders had met late into the night, and whispers spread in the camps about the Byakugan still missing beyond the border.
He folded the report neatly. "So," he murmured, "the Hyūga have decided to move."
The ANBU inclined his head. No questions. No elaborations. A shadow should never presume.
"You may go," Hiruzen said.
When the operative vanished, Hiruzen leaned back, fingers drumming against the desk. They act as though I am blind. But I hear every whisper. Nothing stays hidden forever in Konoha. Not to the Hokage.
The door of office knocked Hiruzen looked toward to door and said "Come In" his voice old yet contained authority.
The Hokage's office was much as it always was: scrolls and reports stacked neatly, the faint scent of ink and tobacco smoke, the wide window overlooking the village below. Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, pipe in hand, the lines of age visible but his gaze still sharp.
Haishi bowed deeply."Lord Hokage. I thank you for granting me this audience."
Hiruzen exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "You are always welcome here, Haishi. Please, speak."
Haishi lifted his head, carefully arranging his tone. "The Hyūga clan has been following the situation at the borders. Reports say the fighting with Kirigakure has grown more intense. We wish to offer our strength. If the Hokage permits, the Hyūga will dispatch forces to reinforce the border and aid Konoha's troops."
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed slightly. He tapped the pipe against the ashtray."A generous offer. What prompts this decision?"
"A sense of duty," Haishi replied smoothly. "Konoha faces many enemies. Our clan has prospered under the protection of the village, and it is only right that we shoulder the burden in return. If the Leaf falters, then so will the Hyūga."
And if the Byakugan remains in enemy hands, our shame will deepen, he thought silently.
Hiruzen studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well. Your offer will be accepted. The Hyūga shall reinforce the border."
Haishi bowed again. "The Hyūga are honored to serve."
The formalities concluded, he withdrew. His footsteps echoed down the tower's corridors. He knew the elders would be pleased. But his own unease lingered.
They are blind. All of them. This move will not bring us closer to power. It will only draw us further into the Hokage's game.
Hokage's POV
When the door closed and silence returned, Hiruzen leaned back in his chair. The smoke from his pipe curled lazily toward the ceiling.
Haishi plays his part well. Respectful, careful with his words. But I know why he came. This has nothing to do with duty, and everything to do with the Byakugan. The Hyūga wish to erase their shame, to seize glory, perhaps even to position themselves closer to the seat I occupy. They forget that there is little they can do that I do not already know.
Information flowed constantly to him—through ANBU, through the Intelligence Division, through the simple whispers that spread in any military camp. The Hyūga girl's eye taken by Kirigakure, the Byakugan at hands of enemy—it was no secret. Not truly.
They think themselves cunning. But in truth, they are useful to me. Let them march to the border. If they weaken themselves in pursuit of their pride, so much the better. A Hyūga weakened is no threat to the Sarutobi.
His gaze drifted toward the window, to the faces carved into the Hokage Monument. Hashirama. Tobirama. And his own, weathered by time.
I have given everything to this village. I love it more than my own life. I would die for Konoha without hesitation. Yet even so… I have grown too used to this seat. To the authority it carries. To the ability to shape the future. And I am not ready to surrender it. Not yet.
His thoughts turned, as they often did, to his clan.
The Sarutobi were never among the great clans. No powerful bloodline. No inherited dojutsu. Just another family of decent shinobi. It is only because I became Hokage that they prosper. I have funneled resources, land, and training their way. I told myself it was fair, that I was repaying them for supporting me. And perhaps that is true. But even with this aid, their weakness is clear: they produce many genin, many chunin… but few jonin. Without me, they would fade again. That is why I cannot allow the Hyūga or the Uchiha to seize the Hokage's seat. If a great clan claims it, they will consolidate power for themselves, and my clan will be pushed aside. All I can do is ensure the Sarutobi remain close to power. Always present. Always in the room where decisions are made.
He tapped his pipe again, watching the embers glow.
In truth, the Uchiha were always my greater concern. The strongest clan in Konoha, unmatched in talent and feared for their Sharingan. But they are also unstable, too bound by emotion. Fire release meets water in Kirigakure, and their genjutsu falters against shinobi trained to fight with their eyes closed. Sending them there would have been the perfect way to bleed their strength. A natural weakening, nothing that could be laid at my feet. But the Hyūga have volunteered instead, and I cannot refuse them without drawing suspicion.
He shook his head.
No matter. The Hyūga will not rise far. Their cursed seal binds half their clan in servitude. They cripple themselves more effectively than any enemy could. In the Warring States era, all Hyūga bore the seal to protect the Byakugan. Only in this time of peace did they twist it into a hierarchy of main and branch families. So long as they cling to this system, they will never be more than they are now. They will fight, they will serve, and they will weaken. That is enough.
Hiruzen set the pipe down and folded his hands.
My path is clear. Secure the support of the daimyo. Maintain strong ties with the Nara, Yamanaka, and Akimichi, who already favor me. And slowly, carefully, remove or weaken any unstable factor. The Uchiha. The Hyūga. Any who might challenge the Sarutobi's place. Then, when the time comes, ensure the next Hokage is one I can control—or better, one of my own blood. Asuma, perhaps. Or, failing that, someone from a minor clan, or even a civilian, whose line could later be merged with mine.
He closed his eyes briefly.
I know this cannot last forever. I cannot sit here for all eternity. But as long as I live, I will not surrender this seat. And when I am gone, I will leave behind a Sarutobi clan too entrenched to be ignored.
His thoughts turned, inevitably, to his oldest friend.
Danzo. He has always coveted this chair, though he will never admit it aloud. Root is his obsession now, his shadow army. He believes it makes him strong. But in truth, it has made him distrusted. The clans hate him. The daimyo will never accept him. He does not see that his ambition pushes him further away from the Hokage's seat.
Hiruzen allowed himself a faint smile.
Still, I have found him useful. He does what I cannot. He eliminates threats. Whenever a candidate for Hokage rises too brightly, Danzo finds a way to snuff them out. And though I feel guilt because it weakens konoha, I let him do it. Because it keeps me where I am. Because it buys the Sarutobi more time. He thinks he acts for the village. Perhaps in some way he does. But in truth, he acts for me.
The office had grown still, the only sound the faint crackle of his pipe. Hiruzen rose slowly and crossed to the wide window, pushing it open so the evening air spilled in.
Below, Konoha stretched in all its complexity. The clang of the smithy in the distance. The chatter of merchants bartering in the streets. Children shouting in the academy yard, wooden kunai clattering in practice. He let his eyes drift further, to the compound of his clan nestled quietly among the rooftops.
He whispered, almost unconsciously: "My Konoha."
And then, after a pause, with equal weight: "My Sarutobi."
The words hung in the air, and he felt the conflict knot in his chest.
I was raised to believe the village was one family. Hashirama believed that with all his soul. He thought clans could shed their hatred, become brothers under the same banner. He built this village for that dream.
His gaze shifted to the mountain, to Hashirama's carved smile.
But Tobirama-sensei taught us differently. He warned us that unity is fragile, that bloodlines are dangerous, that some clans will always put themselves before the village. His suspicion of the Uchiha was only the beginning. I inherited that suspicion. We all did. And perhaps he was right… perhaps he was wrong.
Hiruzen's shoulders sagged. He looked down again, at the Sarutobi district. Children running in the courtyard, women carrying baskets of food, genin training clumsily with shuriken.
They thrive only because I made them thrive. Without me, they would be nothing — another minor clan swallowed by time. I diverted funds meant for the village. I gave them missions meant for others. I lifted them higher than they ever could have climbed alone.
For a moment, guilt surged sharp and bitter. He pressed his palm against the sill.
From Konoha's view, it is theft. A betrayal of trust. The Hokage stealing from the very village he swore to protect. If the people knew, would they not call me criminal?
He closed his eyes. The doubt lingered only a breath before his mind answered itself, cold and steady.
But from the Sarutobi's view… it is justice. Repayment. I gave back to the clan that gave me everything. I honored my blood while I had the power to do so. What son, what father, what leader would not do the same?
He paced slowly across the office, pipe forgotten, hands clasped behind his back.
"There is no good or evil here," he said softly, almost as if he were teaching a student again. "Only perspective."
He stopped at the desk, staring down at the Hokage's hat resting there.
From the village's perspective, I may be guilty. From the clan's, I am righteous. But I am Hokage. It is my judgment that defines the truth. If I say it is right, it is right. If I say it is necessary, it is necessary.
And in that moment he felt the weight of both love and selfishness coil together inside him. He would die for Konoha without hesitation… but he would also twist it, shape it, and use it, if that was what it took to secure the Sarutobi name for generations to come.
He turned back to the window one last time, smoke curling into the night.
For the village. For my clan. Both truths can exist. And I will carry them, until the day my body fails me.