Chapter 90: A Request of a Lady
Danzo's words hung in the air of the Hokage's office, a venomous seed finding fertile ground. The matter of the Uchiha was a constant, low-grade fever in Konoha's politics, and now, with war pressing in from all sides, the temperature was rising.
Sarutobi Hiruzen fell into a heavy silence, his pipe momentarily forgotten. He was under no illusions about the Uchiha clan's motivations. Their newfound zeal on the battlefield was not born of a sudden surge of patriotism; it was a calculated investment, a bid to purchase the political capital they had been denied since the village's founding. Letting them back into the core of Konoha's power structure was unthinkable. The deep-seated resentment the rest of the village held for the Uchiha-controlled Military Police was a powder keg.
He, like Danzo, understood the threat. But where Danzo saw a problem to be excised with a scalpel, Sarutobi saw a delicate organ that, if removed carelessly, would kill the patient. The Uchiha were too powerful, too entrenched. A direct confrontation, especially now, would shatter Konoha from within.
His greatest dread was the war's end. The Uchiha, having bled for the village, would demand their reward. But what reward could be given? They already commanded the police force. To grant them a seat on the council, or worse, to let one of them be a candidate for Hokage? The very idea was anathema to the other clans and the civilian populace. The resulting strife would tear the village apart.
He finally looked up, his eyes weary. "Danzo, are you suggesting we use Kagenori as a wedge against the Uchiha? But is he capable of such a role?"
Danzo's voice was cold and pragmatic. "He is the only suitable candidate. He carries Uchiha blood. Any action he takes against them can be framed as an internal clan dispute, not an overt move by the Hokage's office. It provides plausible deniability. And he would have our… full support."
Sarutobi took a long, slow draw from his pipe, the smoke wreathing his troubled face. "Kagenori is a Jonin, a skilled one, but he lacks the stature. To position him as a counterweight, he would need a title, a platform."
"Titles can be arranged," Danzo stated flatly. "My Root organization has always operated from the shadows. Perhaps it is time for a public-facing entity."
Sarutobi was silent for a long time, the only sound the soft ticking of a clock and the crackle of his pipe. He finally tapped the ashes out, his decision made. "We will focus on the war first. This matter can be addressed after we have secured our borders. But if we are to elevate Kagenori, his reputation must be burnished. He needs significant, public achievements. Otherwise, it will be ineffective."
A faint, grim smile touched Danzo's lips. He knew Sarutobi Hiruzen better than anyone. This was not a rejection; it was a conditional agreement. The game was now in motion.
...
Kagenori arrived at the traditional compound that housed Uzumaki Mito. He had barely raised his hand to knock when the door flew open and a whirlwind of red hair crashed into him, arms wrapping around him in a fierce, desperate hug.
"Kagenori! You finally came back to see me!" Uzumaki Kushina's voice was muffled against his jacket, brimming with unrestrained joy.
A genuine, unforced smile softened Kagenori's features. He gently ruffled her vibrant hair. "I did. How have you been? Is everything alright?"
She pulled back, a familiar pout on her lips. "It's the same as always! I keep applying for a transfer to the Hot Springs front, and they keep rejecting me! It's so unfair! I'm plenty strong, you know!"
Kagenori chuckled. "Well, even if I supported it, it wouldn't matter now. I have new orders. I'll be leaving for the Land of Grass soon."
Kushina's eyes widened. "Eh? The Land of Grass? So soon?"
He nodded. "The transfer is official. I'll be in Konoha for a few days to prepare, then I depart."
"A few days?" Her expression transformed, disappointment replaced by sparkling excitement. "You're staying for a few days?! That means we can spend time together!"
Every other return had been a fleeting visit, a few hours at most. This felt like a luxury.
She grabbed his hand, her energy infectious. "This is great! Come on, let's go out! You have to tell me everything about the Land of Hot Springs!"
He allowed himself to be pulled along, the weight of Danzo's gaze and the looming war momentarily forgotten. For the rest of the day, he walked with her through the familiar streets of Konoha, sharing carefully curated stories of his missions—the landscapes, the strange customs, the clever tactics, omitting all the blood and death. He gave her a world of adventure, not a chronicle of slaughter.
It was evening by the time he carried a tired, but happy, Kushina back to the compound, settling her into her bed. Once she was asleep, his demeanor shifted. The lightness faded, replaced by a resolute calm. He did not leave. Instead, he sought out the matriarch of the house.
He found Uzumaki Mito in the main living room. Before he could even announce himself, her voice, older and frailer than he remembered, called out from within. "Come in, Kagenori."
He entered and bowed. The woman seated before him was a ghost of the formidable presence she had once been. Time had carved deeper lines into her face, and her posture, while still regal, spoke of a great and weary burden.
She looked at him, a sad, knowing smile on her lips. "You and Kushina… you have both grown so much. You can stand on your own now." She paused, her keen eyes seeing through him as they always had. "In all these years, this is the first time you have sought me out of your own volition. So, speak your mind. What is it you need?"
Kagenori did not prevaricate. "Lady Mito, I mean no disrespect. I need to ask you a question. How much time do you have left?"
Mito's gaze remained steady, her expression not shifting a millimeter. "You are not asking for my time, Kagenori. You are asking for Kushina's. I can hold on… for at least three more years."
Three years. The number echoed in his mind. That would place the transition just after Kushina's eighteenth birthday. The timeline was crystallizing.
Uzumaki Mito shook her head slowly, a gesture of profound resignation. "Kagenori, after all this time, you still cannot accept Kushina's destiny? Living in this village, there are some paths that are chosen for us, not by us. My time is short. Kushina is the only suitable candidate to become the next vessel. This is an inevitability."
"It is not," Kagenori countered, his voice low but iron-clad. "There are things we cannot decide, but that does not make them unchangeable. I have a request to make of you, Lady Mito."
Her eyes, still holding a vast and gentle wisdom, regarded him. "If it is within my power, I will help you."
He met her gaze, his own unwavering. "If a chance arises—a genuine chance to spare Kushina from becoming the Jinchuriki—I need you to stand with me."
Uzumaki Mito's eyes widened in genuine surprise. Kagenori was not given to empty boasts or hopeless gambits. For him to say this, he must have a plan, or the beginnings of one.
"Can you tell me what this chance is?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"I have not located the individual yet," he admitted. "But if I find this person and bring them to Konoha, then an alternative will exist. A turning point."
Understanding dawned on Mito's aged face, followed by a flicker of shock. "Is this the true reason for your transfer to the Land of Grass?"
"It is," Kagenori confirmed without hesitation.
She had made it her business to know of his movements. A turning point that could alter Kushina's fate… the only possibility was another of their scattered clan. He was going to Grass to find another Uzumaki.
The pieces fell into place, and for the first time in years, Uzumaki Mito felt a tremor of something she had long forgotten: hope.