Another Life In Naruto

Meanwhile…

Danzo sat alone in his dimly lit office, shadows pooling around him as his mind churned with uneasy calculations. The Hokage's investigation was cutting deep, probing into dark corners Danzo had meticulously crafted and shielded for years. He allowed himself a small measure of gratitude—he'd been diligent, ruthless in erasing every incriminating detail, burning evidence before it ever had a chance to resurface. But still, a curse slipped from his lips. Damn that Haruto. What had he told the Hokage? What secrets had he let slip that set the old man prying into the very heart of his work?

The attempted assassination during the Chunin Exams—there lay the greatest threat. The Hokage was dissecting it with an intensity Danzo hadn't foreseen, tracking every clue, examining each lead. His operatives' covers were flawless, as they always were, but even the best masks cracked under such scrutiny. If this went on, the truth would come to light—that the shinobi involved were his own Root agents, their loyalty sworn to him alone.

Dammit, he thought, his jaw clenched tightly. What to do… what to do…

He stood and moved silently across the room, his footsteps echoing down a hidden corridor that led to a concealed chamber—one of Orochimaru's laboratories, preserved and carefully maintained, a join operation while ochimaru was called to war. This place held the tools and experiments that could bring his plans to fruition, even if it required patience… and sacrifice.

Rows of glass tanks lined the walls, each casting an eerie, green glow across the room. Inside, children floated unconscious, air masks secured to their faces, their small forms suspended in murky fluid. Each had been chosen, subjected to an agonizing process that would, if successful, grant them the legendary Wood Release. Nearly thirty children drifted in these tanks, their young lives bound to Danzo's ruthless ambitions.

His gaze fell on one child in particular. The boy's small frame floated in a kind of eerie stillness, fragile but with a spark of resilience. His dark hair swirled softly in the liquid, framing a face that was sharp, with a promise of hidden strength even in his current state. His limbs were thin, almost frail, but there was something about him that caught Danzo's attention—a sense of potential, of purpose waiting to be unleashed.

Danzo allowed himself a moment to imagine what this boy, and the others, might become. Wood Release. It was an ability he already possessed but had kept for himself, a secret known to few. Yet, if these experiments bore fruit, Root would have its own legion of agents wielding Wood Release, shinobi capable of bending nature to their will, of rooting out enemies and asserting Danzo's will across the battlefield. The thought was intoxicating.

But he knew it would take years before he could realize this vision. Many of these children would perish before any success could emerge; the procedure was unforgiving, and the number of failures had already been high. This child, like the others, could very well die before ever realizing his potential.

But Danzo's expression remained unmoved, his gaze steady on the child. The sacrifice was inevitable, a price he was willing to bear. To create a legacy, to ensure Konoha's future security under his control, sacrifices were necessary. He would bear the weight of their lives and press forward without hesitation.

Turning from the tanks, Danzo allowed himself a small, grim smile. Let the Hokage dig for secrets among the branches. If needed, he would cast out a few agents, fabricate an insurrection within Root to satisfy his inquiries. His influence might suffer, but that was a temporary setback. As long as part of Root remained hidden, it could regrow, stronger and deeper than before.

The Hokage could scour the branches, he thought coldly. The roots… the roots would endure.

Two Days Later…

Danzo stood in the quiet, shadowed confines of his Root headquarters, facing one of his most trusted and powerful ANBU agents. This agent, clad in the dark leather armor distinctive to Danzo's inner circle, met his gaze with unwavering loyalty. The plan had been explained, every detail committed to memory. Now, all that remained was the final act.

Danzo spoke calmly, his tone as cold as steel. "You know what to do."

The Root agent gave a slight nod, voice steady. "Of course, Lord Danzo."

Without hesitation, the agent drove a kunai directly into Danzo's right shoulder, a calculated strike to avoid vital organs but deliver enough damage to appear convincing. Pain erupted across Danzo's shoulder, a sharp, searing heat that shot down his arm and radiated across his chest. He felt the muscles tear under the blade, the ache of splintered bone at the edge of the wound. A shudder passed through him, but he held firm, grunting through the pain, his teeth clenched. Good, he thought. It has to look real.

He took a steadying breath, feeling the blood trickling down his arm, a crimson line that painted the floor in his shadow.

"Are the other operatives in place?" he asked, his voice tight but controlled.

"Yes, Lord Danzo," the agent replied, retracting the blade and stepping back, respectful even now.

Danzo nodded, steadying himself. "Good. Set off the explosives… and kill the traitors."

The Root agent bowed briefly, then disappeared into the darkness, his movements swift and silent. Soon, the sounds of controlled explosions would reverberate through the Root's hidden facilities, each one precisely timed to eliminate evidence and root out those agents Danzo had marked for sacrifice. The "insurrection" would play out as planned, and the Hokage's investigation would find only destruction and loyalists who had put down the "rebellion" on Danzo's orders.

Danzo let himself feel the weight of the wound, the ache deep in his shoulder. A necessary pain, a calculated loss. He would endure it, just as he would endure the temporary losses to Root. It was all part of the greater design—a sacrifice to ensure that his vision, and his control, remained unchallenged in the shadows of Konoha.

The Next Day

Haruto was currently waiting for his new Anbu to arrive at his mansion while he reflected about the last couple of days.

He could still picture the raised brows, the slight widening of eyes—subtle reactions, but reactions nonetheless. When he activated his technique, *Enhanced Chakra Lightning Enhancement*, he saw something that bordered on respect in their otherwise stoic expressions. Haruto understood why; his display wasn't just an exhibition of raw power. It was a calculated demonstration of control, refinement, and an understanding of chakra mechanics that went beyond what they expected from someone his age.

The technique itself was a product of deep study and adaptation. Tsunade's chakra-strength method served as his foundation. He'd observed how she concentrated chakra into specific muscle groups, releasing it in explosive bursts that momentarily amplified her physical power. But her technique, powerful as it was, relied on brute force and significant chakra expenditure. Haruto saw potential for more finesse and decided to take her approach in a different direction.

Instead of focusing solely on muscle strength, Haruto's version was rooted in nervous system optimization. By channeling lightning chakra through his neural pathways, he could heighten his body's natural electrical impulses, essentially supercharging the way his muscles fired. The result? Near-instantaneous reactions and amplified strength without the need for a constant chakra drain. This internal "ignition" of his nervous system was like flipping a switch that optimized his movements, each one sharper and more potent than the last, all while avoiding the continuous, outward drain that techniques like the Raikage's Lightning Armor demanded. His approach was about efficiency—he wasted no energy on flashy displays or unnecessary output.

But this wasn't a technique any shinobi could pull off. It required traits unique to Haruto. His dense chakra reserves allowed him to sustain the technique with minimal depletion, and his innate lightning affinity made the process almost second nature. This affinity didn't just enhance the power—it provided a natural resistance to the very current he was channeling. For most, such voltage surging through the body would result in devastating nerve damage, muscle spasms, or worse. But Haruto's body had been strengthened through specialized training and enhancement treatments, conditioning him to safely absorb and redirect the current. His resilience was far beyond the norm.

Haruto knew his limits. He wasn't invincible; there was still a threshold to the voltage his nerves could handle. However, by prioritizing control over raw output, he could maximize his body's capabilities without risking damage. Each muscle contraction was calculated, each nerve impulse aligned with his intent. What the elders had witnessed was a technique designed for precision, every movement deliberate and potent. Haruto's power was not meant for mindless destruction but for efficient, purposeful action—power focused entirely on mastery and execution.

As Haruto sat in silence, waiting for his new ANBU leader, he replayed his conversation with the Hokage and elders, his disbelief still simmering beneath his calm exterior, they had delivered shocking news to him, traitors in the the root!

"So, rogue ninja within Root suddenly decided to rebel, just as you were closing in on them?" he'd asked, arching an eyebrow, his tone laced with doubt.

The Hokage had responded evenly, as if the story was the most natural conclusion in the world. "Yes, Haruto. The investigation uncovered agents secretly working for the enemy, targeting promising young shinobi within the village. When they were found out, they retaliated. The conflict escalated, and many were killed, Danzo himself barely surviving an assassination attempt."

Haruto had held back a smirk. *Right. Convenient timing.*

"Danzo barely survived?" he had pressed, testing the waters.

Homura Mitokado, his voice unyielding, had answered, "Yes. Several Root agents died, and Danzo himself sustained significant injuries. This incident has been a severe blow to his leadership, and he has since expressed his desire to retire. Root will be dissolved, and any remaining operatives will be absorbed back into the general ranks."

Haruto had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. *Danzo, humiliated and retiring out of "shame"? I don't buy it.*

The elders seemed to accept this tidy narrative, probably convinced by the so-called "conclusive evidence." But Haruto knew better. Based on his knowledge from the anime, he recognized Danzo's playbook all too well. This entire "uprising" had been a carefully staged event, a convenient purge of any Root operatives who might have proven liabilities under investigation. Danzo was a master of covering his tracks, and Haruto knew that any agents who had been too close to sensitive information were likely sacrificed in this "rebellion."

Additionally, the hockage and elders found out Tsunade was also looking into the root due to rumors that had started about sakumo before his sucicied, they hadn't mentioned anything about Haruto asking Tsunde to look into it so she must not have told them about his request, the hockage and elders said the rogue shanobi were also responsible for the smear campaign against sakumo.

The elders' attempts to tie Tsunade's findings into their narrative had only added to the absurdity. At one point, Koharu Utatane had chimed in, almost as if to reassure him, "Tsunade's recent findings align with this. She's been conducting her own inquiries, it seems—looking into Root just as we were. While investigating the rumors around Sakumo Hatake's death, she uncovered a connection to these same rogue ninja."

That part had given him pause. Not because it lent any truth to their version of events, but because it showed just how much of Danzo's schemes the Hokage and elders didn't even realize. They had stumbled across Tsunade's investigation by chance, discovering her interest in Root's role in spreading the rumors that had driven Sakumo to his breaking point. And here they were, naively assuming that rogue Root agents were to blame. Haruto could see the real pattern behind it: Danzo, quietly orchestrating the downfall of anyone he saw as a threat—first Sakumo, and now others with potential, like himself. Danzo's aim had always been to control the village's future, and taking out strong figures, especially those with promise, was merely another step in his twisted logic of "village security."

Now, as Haruto sat waiting, his frustration only grew. The Hokage and elders seemed to think Danzo's "retirement" was genuine, a humbling defeat. They believed Root's dissolution was the end of his influence. But Haruto knew better. This wasn't an end; it was a carefully planned retreat, allowing Danzo to slip deeper into the shadows, readying himself for whatever was next.

He'd asked to see the evidence himself, of course, but they'd brushed him off. "It's conclusive," the Hokage had assured him.

*Conclusive, my ass,* he thought now, leaning back, waiting for whoever would be supervising him in ANBU.

As Haruto was reflecting he saw Tsunde approaching his mansion, Haruto had sensed her approach well before she knocked. He was already at the door when her fist rose to knock, opening it just as she made contact. Tsunade stepped inside without hesitation, arms crossed, her gaze sharp as she looked him over.

Haruto sensed her approach long before she arrived—each purposeful, frustrated step echoing in his awareness like distant thunder. He was already at the door when her fist rose to knock, opening it the moment her knuckles made contact. Tsunade strode in without hesitation, her eyes flashing, shoulders tense, arms crossing tightly as she looked him over. It was the look of someone who had waited long enough, the look of a storm finally allowed to break.

"I'm here before you leave for the war," she began, her voice taut with restrained anger. "I did what you asked. The Hokage told you what they found?"

Haruto's jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his face, covered by the bandages, betrayed little. "Yes, he told me," he said quietly, his voice a low murmur.

"You didn't tell them it was me who asked you to look into the rumors?" he asked, his tone guarded, like a door half-closed.

"No," she replied, her gaze never leaving him. She watched his reaction carefully, as if searching for some crack in his steady exterior. For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken. Finally, her gaze hardened.

"But let's talk about something more important," she said, her voice colder now, a restrained edge in her tone.

Haruto shifted slightly, sensing the change in her voice, but he stayed silent.

"You disappeared, Haruto. Cut yourself off like the people who cared about you didn't even exist. And then, after all that time, you just come back, dropping this giant conspiracy involving Root," she said, each word sharpening as she took a step closer, crossing her arms tighter. "Do you have any idea what that was like for them? For me?"

Her voice shook slightly as she continued, frustration finally spilling over. "Next time someone tries to assassinate you, you better damn well tell me. Or Kushina. Or Minato." Her words came fierce and fast, like she'd been waiting too long to say them. "You don't get to go through something like that alone. We had a right to know what was happening."

Haruto held his silence, his jaw tightening further as her words pressed down on him, but he didn't look away. He thought back to the time he'd spent alone, when he'd deliberately cut himself off, turning inward to survive the pain, to find his own way forward. But he had reflected, however briefly, on how it might have affected those he left behind. He just hadn't wanted to let that weight settle in, to feel the impact of his choice beyond himself.

Tsunade's voice softened, though the disappointment beneath her frustration was unmistakable. "I don't think you understand what it's like, Haruto. To have people waiting, worrying, wondering if you'd just… given up. To feel that helpless, watching someone you care about vanish without a word." Her voice dropped, as if revealing a wound he hadn't seen before. "You left us all to think you might never come back. That you'd walked away from everything."

Haruto's fists clenched at his sides, his regret simmering beneath the stillness he tried to maintain. He knew, now, how deeply he had let them down—Tsunade, his friends, his comrades. How deeply he'd let *Sakumo* down. He'd chosen isolation, thinking it was the only way forward. He saw it now for what it was: the choice of a fool.

Tsunade shook her head, her gaze steady, unwavering. "You're strong, Haruto. But you're not invincible. And you're not alone." Her tone dropped, serious and unyielding as she leaned in close. "And if you *ever* pull something like this again… You'll spend every spare hour scrubbing floors and doing scut work at the hospital. You understand me?"

Haruto swallowed, giving her a slow, steady nod, not trusting himself to speak. He knew better than to argue. She was right, and he deserved every word of it.

Tsunade gave a final, satisfied nod and turned to leave. But as she reached the door, she paused, glancing back, her gaze softening slightly, as if to make sure her words had truly settled over him.

"Good to have you back, Haruto. Just… remember this next time."

And with that, she left him standing alone, her words lingering in the silence around him, like a weight he couldn't ignore.