Sogetsu slid his door shut behind him—and paused. Something was off.
A fresh cup of green tea steamed on his table.
"Long time. I was starting to worry. How have you been?" His tone was mild, like greeting an old friend; his gaze drifted to a patch of shadow in the corner.
The darkness rippled. A figure pressed itself out of the wall.
An ANBU in a white animal mask dropped to one knee. "Lord Sogetsu, forgive me. Danzo's been wary these days. Today was my first window."
"Raise your head, Ryōma."
Sogetsu's black eyes were tranquil, no blame in them at all. Warmth—safety—seemed to pool in that gaze.
Ryōma exhaled, a feeling he craved washing through him—the ease no one else could give. "Yes, Lord Sogetsu."
"The tea's good, Ryōma." Sogetsu took a small sip, smiling. "You wouldn't come without cause. Let me guess—Danzo has designs on me?"
"My tea craft is crude, my lord—you honor me." Ryōma almost trembled with relief that Sogetsu drank without suspicion—unlike that sewer-rat of a master. "Hokage-sama and Danzo are investigating you. Do you wish me to intervene?"
"Why would I?"
"I fear that if they dig long enough, they might…" He didn't finish, but the meaning was plain: even perfect masks can snag on a stray thread.
"No need. Let them dig." Sogetsu's tone didn't ripple.
Ryōma stiffened. "To my knowledge, Hokage-sama conferred at length with Nara Shikaku and Yamanaka Inoichi—likely about you. Shikaku is… formidable. He reconstructs truth from dust and echoes."
"It's unimportant." Sogetsu shook his head.
What could they do? Most likely they'd use the Chūnin Exams to observe the Uchiha—him included. And the clan's slate was—if not black—certainly smudged. Even setting Madara aside, a large fraction simmered with resentment at Hiruzen's constraints.
Understanding that was easy. Founding shareholders of Konoha, "first great clan," treated like a tool on a shelf. But Fugaku hadn't curbed their arrogance—or couldn't. Pride curdled into swagger; swagger bred blowback, and the Uchiha only lifted their chins higher. A seed planted, watered daily.
In that light, the clan's eventual slaughter was… not exactly undeserved.
None of which bore on Sogetsu. By the night of the Massacre, his plans would have him far away.
"Leave it—for now," he said, thumb circling the teacup's glaze. "As for Danzo… once my hands are free, I'll deal with him."
Ryōma saw the resolve and let out a long breath. Pushing would not change this. "Then I have another request, my lord. Please… grant it."
"Oh?" Sogetsu tilted his head. "Speak."
"I know you treasure my life—but there is one point I cannot accept." Ryōma straightened, then bowed until his forehead touched the floor. His voice vibrated with sincerity. "My life is worthless. If anything ever threatens you, abandon me without hesitation. To spend it for even the smallest gain for you—would be Aburame Ryoma's greatest honor."
His eyes shone with fervor—the look of a zealot.
"You don't need to ask." Sogetsu's gaze stayed warm. "If it becomes necessary, I won't hesitate… to sacrifice you."
Strange? Not at all. It was exactly as planned. The moment they'd met—when suggestion and hypnosis sank hooks—Ryōma had begun to twist. That was the Spectator path: poor in direct combat, terrifying in the theater of the mind. One look, and Ryōma would gladly die.
"One more thing, my lord," Ryōma said, careful, almost shy. "My Cursed Tongue Eradication Seal is still active. How is it that I could speak of Danzo without… consequences?"
"The seal targets neural pathways, nothing more," Sogetsu said, drawing a charm from his sleeve. "You don't need the principles. This will do what you need."
The talisman pulsed with a Rank VI Hypnotist's power—a handcrafted occult tool whose sole purpose was to bypass the Cursed Tongue Eradication Seal's constraints buried in the brain.
"Lord Sogetsu—my gratitude." Ryōma accepted it with both hands, still kneeling, then slid back into the corner's shadow and was gone. There was work to do. Just as Sogetsu had said—Danzo was a sewer rat. Time to fumigate the sewers.
"Ah… yes. This is the kind of 'safety' I was looking for," Ryōma whispered as the darkness took him. His body shivered, addicted to the feeling. "Lord Uchiha Sogetsu… what is your pursuit? I hope I live to see it. But even if I die, there will be others like me. I'll make sure of it."
From tonight on, Root would undergo a purge—and a rebirth.
Somewhere beneath Konoha, Danzo Shimura felt a sudden draft chill his spine.
"How odd… Why do I sense misfortune on the wind?"
(End of chapter)
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