Another Life In Naruto

Haruto sighed inwardly, almost amused. Root operatives would have made this encounter far more… stimulating. Instead, here he was in the Hokage's office, his senses picking up on the ANBU's guarded stances, a subtle but unmistakable message. They weren't escorts; they were sentries, holding their positions as if shielding the Hokage from him. They see me as a threat? Interesting.

He turned his focus to the Hokage, who was regarding him with an intensity that bordered on disbelief. The Hokage's gaze swept over him—the bandages still covering his eyes, the quiet but unyielding power he now radiated. It was as if the old man were struggling to reconcile the memory of the boy he once knew with the figure before him.

"You've been busy," the Hokage said, his voice carefully neutral, giving little away.

Haruto returned his gaze, calm, almost detached. "One way to put it."

The Hokage's brow lifted, his scrutiny deepening. "Six of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, slain by your hand?"

"Correct," Haruto replied, his tone unwavering.

The Hokage's façade of composure cracked for a split second, a flicker of intrigue crossing his face. "And their swords?"

Haruto answered with simplicity, his tone dismissive. "I have them."

The Hokage leaned back, watching him with veiled curiosity. "Interesting timing, your return," he remarked, the words carrying layers of unspoken inquiry. "There are questions—questions that need answers."

Haruto inclined his head, a hint of anticipation in his stance. "I expected as much."

But as he prepared to speak, Haruto sensed a new presence, its chakra masked in a way that only seals could achieve. The left side of the face and arm, carefully obscured. Danzo. Two other signatures trailed behind, their distinct chakra signaling age. The elders, he thought, already envisioning how they'd slot into this performance.

He turned to the Hokage, feigning an innocent suggestion. "Shall we wait for the others?"

The Hokage's gaze narrowed. "What others?"

Haruto shrugged, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Oh, you didn't know? Awkward."

The ANBU exchanged brief, uncertain glances, momentarily thrown off as the door opened. Danzo stepped inside, flanked by Koharu and Homura. Danzo's figure was draped in a dark, heavy robe that hung sharply from his frame, the fabric neat and clean, adding to his severe appearance. His head was partially wrapped in thick, white bandages that covered his left eye and extended around his forehead, disappearing into the collar of his robe. The wraps over his arm were just as tightly wound, clean and stark against the dark fabric, hiding whatever lay beneath in an impenetrable shroud.

Koharu, just behind him, wore a simple yet formal robe, her hair pulled back tightly, streaks of gray beginning to show. Her posture was upright, her expression serious, with a sharp gaze scanning the room. Beside her, Homura stood with a reserved demeanor, his graying hair neatly combed, his robes equally formal but slightly looser, giving him a more relaxed appearance. Both were silent, their faces set with a seriousness that only added to the weight of the moment.

Danzo's expression was calm, almost pleased, a subtle satisfaction playing at the corners of his mouth as he addressed the Hokage. "Hokage, I believe I have relevant information concerning Haruto's recent activities." His tone was smooth, respectful, but beneath it lay an insidious undertone, a calculated attempt to nudge the Hokage's thoughts, to provoke suspicion, to frame Haruto as a threat.

Haruto recognized it instantly. Danzo's words were a trap, an emotional snare meant to elicit a reflexive distrust. But Haruto cut him off with blunt defiance.

"I infiltrated a Root outpost," he said simply, letting the admission settle heavily in the room. He offered no justification, no plea—just the raw truth, a move that left no room for Danzo to color his actions with doubt.

Danzo's controlled facade fractured, his eyes narrowing in irritation. This had been his reveal, his careful ploy to sway the Hokage, to paint Haruto as a dangerous rogue needing swift judgment. But now, with Haruto's unflinching honesty, the narrative had been pulled from his grasp, leaving him scrambling to regain control.

"Do you hear him, Hokage?" Danzo's voice sharpened, accusation lacing each word. "He admits to compromising Root. This requires immediate detention and questioning." His tone was pointed, pushing for the Hokage's alarm, for a swift, condemning response.

Without hesitation, Haruto stepped toward the door intending to leave

Danzo's eyes narrowed as he saw Haruto leaving, his voice sharp. "Where do you think you're going?"

Haruto paused, turning back with a polite, almost mocking edge to his tone. "Oh, I thought it best to wait outside… until you decide what you want to do." His gaze landed firmly on Danzo, the subtle emphasis on you unmistakable, as though he were implying Danzo held the authority in this room.

The Hokage's expression shifted, a flicker of tension crossing his face as he observed the exchange. Haruto's words, so precisely directed, sliced through the atmosphere, tilting the weight of the room toward Danzo. It was as though Haruto had, with one phrase, upended the balance.

"Stop," the Hokage commanded, voice low and steely, his gaze moving from Haruto to the elders. "All of you. Leave." His words were firm, unyielding—a reminder of the authority he held, the authority that was still very much his.

Danzo started to speak, his voice smooth and calculated. "Hokage, surely you see the necessity—"

"Leave," the Hokage interrupted, his tone low but cutting through the room like a blade. This wasn't just the leader of the village speaking; this was the Professor, the formidable shinobi who had commanded the respect of an entire generation. His gaze bore into Danzo, unyielding, carrying the weight of intent and finality.

Danzo's mouth closed, the protest caught in his throat. For a moment, the room held a breathless tension that seemed to thrum in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment of the authority that had just shifted. Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado exchanged wary glances, their expressions laced with thinly veiled frustration. They, too, could sense the shift—their influence diminished under the weight of the Hokage's command, an unmistakable reminder of the power he still wielded when he chose to exercise it.

The Hokage's gaze remained steady, carrying the weight and intent of his former title as the "Professor," the shinobi who had earned respect through sheer force and wisdom. His silence was more imposing than any raised voice, his eyes locking onto Danzo with a challenge that left no room for further debate.

Slowly, and without another word, Danzo inclined his head in a curt nod, his posture rigid as he turned to leave, the elders following his lead. They slipped from the room one by one, the door closing quietly behind them, leaving only the faint echo of their retreating footsteps in their wake.

As the door shut, the air seemed to settle, the tension dissolving into a rare, unguarded silence. Only then did the Hokage's gaze shift back to Haruto, who remained seated, his expression calm and watchful as the two Anbu ninja continued to keep watch.

The Hokage leaned forward, his gaze sharp and piercing as he scrutinized Haruto. Shadows played across his face, adding weight to the silence that stretched between them. Finally, he spoke, his voice measured, each word heavy with authority.

"This is no small offense, Haruto. Infiltrating a root base… that's a line few would dare to cross" His eyes narrowed further, cutting through any facade. "Tell me—why did you do it?"

Haruto steadied himself, emotions roiling just beneath the surface. "You asked why I went after Root, why I ended up at one of their bases," he began, his voice tight, barely containing the frustration within. "This wasn't some reckless decision. I needed answers—answers that had been kept from me for too long. As my ninjutsu developed, as my senses other sense sharpened and I began to see the world in a new way, I realized I couldn't wait any longer. I had to find the truth myself, especially with my new found strength.

The Hokage's gaze grew sharper, his silence urging Haruto to continue.

"Back during the Chunin Exams," Haruto continued, his voice carrying an edge of anger, "an assassin from our own village tried to kill me. But it wasn't just an attack. She brought a photo of me—me and Abaa-chan, the woman who raised me at the orphanage. She wanted me to know she knew Abaa-chan. She knew she was dead." His hands clenched, the memory stirring fresh anger. "Seeing that photo… it lit a fire inside me, something fierce and unforgiving."

The Hokage's eyes flickered with recognition, the tension between them thickening.

"Abaa-chan was a civilian, Hokage. She had no connection to shinobi life, no part in any mission. And yet, this assassin—a ninja from our own village—murdered her. Why? Just to send a message to make me angry?"

The Hokage's face darkened, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on Haruto, encouraging him to continue.

"Two teams," Haruto said, bitterness lining his voice, "two Leaf teams coordinated to attack me and my squad that year. They moved with precision, calculated and ruthless… and Abaa-chan's murder felt like a piece of their plan. When I finally managed to capture one of them, I tried to force her to talk. But she wouldn't. She was so silent, so resolute, that in a moment of desperation, I…" Haruto faltered, his voice dropping. "I went to cut out her tongue in my rage since she wouldn't speak she would suffer.." he needed a plausible explanation why he found the tongue seal, as this wasn't true.

The Hokage's eyes narrowed, visibly disturbed by the confession.

"But just as I went to do it, I saw it—a seal, burned into the top of her tongue. She wasn't merely loyal; she was bound by a curse, a silence she couldn't break." Haruto sketched the symbol onto a scrap of paper and passed it to the Hokage. "It wasn't loyalty, Hokage. It was a silence bound by jutsu—a seal."

The Hokage examined the drawing, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. He remained silent, the weight of understanding thickening the air.

"The seal was my only clue and after constant searching I couldn't find anything," Haruto continued, his voice growing steadier, more resolute. "But before he passed, I managed to speak with Sakumo about it. He was the one who connected the dots—he told me Root was known for using these seals, binding their members to silence. Someone in Root was actively working against the village. And I couldn't ignore that. The only thing I can think of that might have put me on their radar… was one of my essays." Haruto met the Hokage's gaze, his eyes unflinching. "Maybe one of them ruffled the wrong feathers?"

The Hokage's expression shifted, the name "Root" settling heavily in the air. Haruto's gaze held steady, waiting for the Hokage's response.

Inwardly, the Hokage took it all in. He recalled that year's Chunin Exams—too many Leaf Genin deaths to dismiss as random. An investigation had been conducted, but it had led nowhere. And Haruto's essay… yes, it had to be the one about the Uchiha. Haruto's bold proposal to reform the police force, suggesting that the force should be expanded to include other clans and even clanless shinobi, had stirred the waters. Surprisingly, Fugaku himself had supported the idea. He saw an opportunity to relieve his clan of the strain of exclusive policing duties, hoping it would allow the Uchiha to take on roles beyond law enforcement.

However, Fugaku's support for decentralization had also exposed an uncomfortable truth. The essay had raised questions within the Uchiha clan: who had been the police force's biggest champion all these years? Was it genuine support, or was it an effort to confine the Uchiha to a specific sphere of influence, limiting their power to one corner of village life while keeping them isolated from other vital roles?

The Hokage exhaled slowly, piecing it together. Danzo had no love for the Uchiha and his subtle interference, pushing the Uchiha into a corner, might have been deliberate all along. Haruto's involvement, and his connection to Fugaku's newfound reform, had likely drawn the attention of forces within the village that wanted to keep the Uchiha bound to their policing role. And now Haruto stood in the crosshairs of the same dark undercurrents that sought to keep the village's power tightly controlled.

Now the question remained if what Haruto was causing was true, was Danzo involved?

The Hokage's eyes remained locked onto Haruto, processing every word as each revelation pulled him deeper into contemplation. Haruto's account seemed to echo, casting long shadows over the room. Root's secrets, their cold willingness to sacrifice the village's own Genin, left a bitter taste in the Hokage's mind. The weight of Haruto's story stirred long-buried suspicions within him, suspicions he rarely allowed himself to consider openly. His face remained impassive, but his focus sharpened to a razor's edge.

"And this is when you found out about the Mist's movements?" the Hokage finally asked, his voice steady yet threaded with unease.

Haruto's response came without hesitation. "Correct," he replied, voice steady but edged with controlled fury. "And worse still—Root was sending a Genin team to confirm the intel, knowing they'd likely be sacrificed. They were expendable to them. And among them… was my comrade, Guy."

The Hokage's brow lifted slightly, unfamiliar with the name. "Guy?"

"Yes," Haruto affirmed, a flicker of fierce loyalty in his gaze. "And we nearly lost one of the most dedicated shinobi the village has. His father, Duy, who happened to be stationed nearby, intervened. He would have sacrificed himself, taken down the Mist Swordsmen, just to save his son. He was ready to give it all."

The Hokage's gaze tightened, the name "Duy" resonating faintly yet without recognition. "I don't recall a Duy. Who exactly is he?"

Haruto paused, choosing his words with deliberate care. Duy's life, his abilities, were veiled by layers the Hokage couldn't possibly see. Duy was not celebrated in the ranks, not acknowledged for his rare discipline. His rank was unremarkable—a Genin, trapped in an endless cycle of service beneath his true potential. Yet, Haruto knew Duy's quiet power. He was a master honed not by fame but by solitude, dedication, and sacrifice.

Inwardly, Haruto thought of the three factors that had constrained Duy from rising higher. Duy's nature, pure and selfless, kept him from self-promotion, a trait that Haruto held as his favorite aspect of the man. His peak in physical and combat mastery had come later in life, leaving him constrained by the village's rigid ranks. And finally, he was bound by the bureaucratic rigidity of the Genin Corps—a cage that didn't recognize his extraordinary strength and potential. Haruto wanted to fix that.

"Duy," Haruto continued, voice controlled but carrying quiet respect, "is a master of the Eight Gates, a skill he's refined with dedication most will never understand. And yet, he remains within the Genin Corps."

The Hokage's eyes widened, his usually calm exterior betraying a flicker of surprise. "A master of the Eight Gates… in the Genin Corps?"

Haruto's confirmation came with a solemn nod, his gaze meeting the Hokage's. The Hokage's mind reeled slightly; the Eight Gates technique, he knew, was one spoken of by his own teacher—the Second Hokage—with rare gravity. His sensei had drilled into him the severity of the Eight Gates, warning his students that if they ever encountered a master of it, they were to avoid engagement if possible. Its power could turn life into a fleeting burst of unmatched fury, sacrificing everything for the sake of a single, explosive battle.

The Hokage's gaze drifted for a moment, pulled inward as he absorbed the layers of Haruto's story. The implications rippled outward, striking one unsettling chord after another. Rogue elements within Root, willing to sacrifice Genin without a second thought and possible assassination attempt… a hidden seal jutsu, binding loyalty by force, lurking within his own village. And now were revelations of not one but two Jonin-level warriors, Haruto and Duy, Duy's whose skills had gone entirely unnoticed, unrecognized within the village's structured ranks. Duy, a master of the Eight Gates, confined to the obscurity of the Genin Corps; and Haruto, a young shinobi with strength and resolve forged in the shadows, wielding powers few had yet begun to understand, and on top of it all 6 enemy Jonin powerhouses were slain.

The sheer weight of it was almost staggering. To think of what had remained concealed—two lives, so clearly honed to high skill, and a side of Root operating under his nose in ways that defied village protocols, if the accusations were proven true… The Hokage felt the sharp pang of uncertainty pierce his faith in the systems he was responsible for safeguarding.