Chapter 74 - Danzo's Conspiracy
The soft glow of the lanterns flickered within the Hokage's office, casting long shadows across the wooden walls. Outside, Konoha had settled into the quiet hum of night, but inside this room, tension still lingered thick in the air.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat at his desk, his sharp, calculating gaze locked onto Kazane.
"Alright" Kazane finally said, his tone carrying a deliberate hesitation. "I will take on this mission. But Lord Hokage, I expect you to keep your promise."
His voice was steady, but beneath it, there was an undertone of skepticism—a quiet warning.
Hiruzen's lips curled into a practiced smile, one honed over decades of political maneuvering.
"Good! Kazane, don't worry. Once you complete the mission, I will personally ensure the Forbidden Scroll is handed over to you."
There was no hesitation in his voice. It was the perfect assurance—an empty promise designed to keep Kazane obedient until he was no longer a threat.
Kazane observed him for a moment, then nodded.
"I see. Then, I will prepare accordingly."
Hiruzen exhaled in relief, but he wasn't done yet.
"Do you require any supplies from the village for this mission?" he asked, feigning concern. "If not, I suggest you depart first thing in the morning. This matter is urgent"
It was more than just urgency—Hiruzen wanted him gone now.
The sooner Kazane left, the sooner Hiruzen could stop worrying about the growing danger he posed.
Kazane, however, narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Lord Hokage, I just returned to the village today. I haven't even stepped through my own front door, and you're already sending me out?"
There was no emotion in his voice—just calm observation.
Hiruzen was pushing too hard.
The act was almost too obvious.
The so-called "Professor" of shinobi tactics, the cunning leader of Konoha, was so desperate to remove him that he couldn't even wait a single night.
It was almost laughable.
The Third Hokage sighed deeply, as if weighed down by an unbearable burden. His expression softened, his voice turning sorrowful.
"Kazane," he said, his tone filled with practiced regret. "You don't understand the difficulties of leadership."
"Konoha is in a precarious situation. Every passing day, every hour we delay, we risk worsening our position. The Hidden Rain Village, Hanzo the Salamander… They are like a blade hanging over Konoha's neck."
He folded his hands together and looked at Kazane with the warmth of an aging grandfather.
"I just hope you can understand the concerns of an old man like me—someone who only wishes for the continued peace of the village."
The way he spoke, as if he were making an earnest plea, would have swayed anyone else.
But Kazane?
He could see through it all.
The village's peace?
It had nothing to do with peace.
Hiruzen simply saw him as a threat.
And threats had to be eliminated.
"Fine, Lord Hokage," Kazane finally said, exhaling as if resigned. "I will make my preparations. I will leave tomorrow."
There was no point in prolonging this farce.
Hiruzen's mask of concern slipped for a fraction of a second, replaced with barely concealed satisfaction.
"Good, Kazane. You've had a long day. Get some rest. I will have the ANBU deliver the necessary supplies to you in the morning."
The conversation was over.
Hiruzen stood, his posture once again relaxed. He walked Kazane to the entrance of the Hokage building, nodding in approval as they exchanged farewells.
As Kazane's silhouette faded into the night, the warm, grandfatherly expression on Hiruzen's face melted away.
His eyes turned sharp, cold—unforgiving.
"Don't blame me, Kazane…"
His whisper barely reached the air, but it carried the weight of finality.
"Blame yourself for choosing the wrong path."
In that moment, the mask of Konoha's kind-hearted leader was gone.
What remained was Sarutobi Hiruzen, the man willing to do whatever it took to maintain his control.
---
A Walk Through the Village
The streets of Konoha were quiet under the veil of night, illuminated only by the occasional lantern hanging outside shops and homes. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of burning wood from a distant fireplace.
Kazane walked slowly, his steps measured, his mind lost in thought.
As he wandered, he passed by a familiar ninja tool shop.
He paused, glancing at the store's closed shutters.
Memories surfaced.
The first time he had walked into that store, determined to buy training weights after seeing Might Duy, the shopkeeper had stared at him in disbelief when he asked for extra weights—not just for his limbs, but for his jaw.
"You want jaw weights?!" the old man had exclaimed.
"Of course. A strong swordsman needs a strong bite!" Kazane had grinned.
The memory brought a rare smirk to his face.
A few steps later, he passed a flower shop—Yamanaka's.
He remembered dragging Kakashi there once, forcing him to pick out flowers for Rin.
Kakashi had been so flustered, completely out of his element.
Those days felt like a different lifetime.
Before he even realized it, he had arrived at the entrance of Kurenai Yuhi's home.
He hesitated.
For years, he had dedicated himself to training, to growing stronger, to becoming a force that no one could challenge.
And now, he finally had that power.
Yet… this was the price.
The situation with Hiruzen had already reached the point of no return.
Once the war ended, the conflict within Konoha would begin.
If he and Orochimaru won, they could reshape everything.
But if they lost?
Then Konoha would cast them aside.
Labeled as traitors.
Forced to flee.
If I involve Kurenai now… it will only bring trouble to her.
He turned away.
Soon… everything would be decided.
Until then, he would continue to grow stronger.
"In this world, power determines everything."
That was the ultimate truth.
A chuckle escaped his lips as a distant memory resurfaced.
'Zoro's Sword Manual, Page One'
'A heart free of love wields the sword of gods!'
'Page Two—Forget the one you love!'
With a wry smile, Kazane muttered under his breath:
"Women only slow down my sword."
And with that, he disappeared into the night.
---
The Next Morning
As the faint light of dawn brushed the rooftops of Konoha, a silent figure stirred.
Kazane had not informed a single soul of his departure. There were no goodbyes, no explanations, no ceremonies. Only the quiet rustle of footsteps and the subtle shift of shadow as he slipped out of the village unnoticed.
At the crack of dawn, a masked ANBU operative arrived at the agreed location and delivered a compact scroll packed with supplies—standard provisions, ration pills, spare cloaks, and additional weaponry. Everything Kazane would need for the journey ahead.
He accepted the scroll in silence, tucked it into his satchel, and without a single word, vanished into the forest.
The road ahead was long.
His destination—the Land of Rain.
Wedged between the Land of Fire, the Land of Earth, and the Land of Wind, it was a region perpetually shrouded in storm clouds and drenched in ceaseless rain. Its strategic location had once made it the bloodiest battleground during the Second Great Ninja War, where countless lives had been lost in the name of power and territory.
And ruling this fractured land with an iron grip was Hanzo of the Salamander.
Kazane had read the records.
A man hailed as the "Demi-God of the Shinobi World."
Someone who had once fought and defeated the trio now revered as the Legendary Sannin.
Had Hanzo been born in a greater nation, protected from the chaos of civil war and betrayal, the Five Great Nations might very well have become Six.
His fall, years later, had been as quiet as his rise had been loud. Killed not on a grand battlefield, but through trickery and betrayal at the hands of a friend he thought he could trust.
Even so, his strength—his legacy—remained.
That legacy was what Kazane had come to confront.
After two days of uninterrupted travel, Kazane crossed into the borders of the Land of Rain.
He felt it immediately—the shift in atmosphere.
The air here was different: heavier, colder, soaked in constant moisture and the weight of unspoken tension. Thick clouds loomed above, thunder rumbling faintly in the distance.
Raindrops trickled down the edge of his cloak as he entered a narrow valley blanketed by fog.
Unbeknownst to him, the moment he set foot on Rain soil…
The trap had already been sprung.
---
Hidden Rain Village – Central Tower
Within the heart of Amegakure stood the village's iron fortress, the Central Tower. A monstrous spire of steel and glass, its surface slick with the endless downpour, reflecting lightning like jagged cracks in a mirror.
Inside, seated atop a throne of blackened stone and twisted metal, was Hanzo the Salamander.
His face was hidden behind a rusted black respirator mask. Tubes extended from the device down his chest and into his back, connecting to a small reservoir that continually fed him antidotes. The poison he carried in his own body was so lethal that he could not live without them.
His every breath came slow and mechanical, punctuated by a faint hiss of filtered air.
Before him, kneeling in unwavering posture, was a masked figure—an ANBU operative from Konoha.
A man loyal not to the Hokage, but to another shadowy master: Danzo Shimura.
"I accept the deal," Hanzo finally said, his voice muffled by the respirator but no less menacing.
"Inform Danzo that I expect the rest of the payment delivered on schedule."
The ANBU nodded once and stepped forward, producing a tightly sealed scroll and laying it upon the table at Hanzo's side.
"This contains the provisions Lord Danzo promised—food, medicine, supplies, enough to sustain the Hidden Rain Village through winter and beyond."
"As for Hatake Kazane… he departed from Konoha two days ago. He should arrive by nightfall or, at the latest, tomorrow morning."
"Once he crosses into the central district, our agents will alert you. You'll have your chance."
Hanzo unfurled the scroll slightly and scanned its contents.
Everything was as promised.
Rations, medical stocks, weapons, tools—all essential in a village that had long been isolated and starved of resources due to endless war.
He gave a slight nod of approval.
"I will handle Kazane myself," he said. "A shinobi of that caliber deserves nothing less."
His voice dropped, laced with cold determination.
But he wasn't finished.
"And the other matter?"
The operative stiffened.
"Our spies have successfully infiltrated the Akatsuki. They've gained Yahiko's trust and are working their way into Nagato's inner circle."
"Once the target is isolated, we will move."
Hanzo leaned back into his chair, exhaling a slow breath through his mask. The air hissed as toxins were expelled and filtered anew.
His eyes narrowed.
He didn't trust the Akatsuki.
Their vision of unity and peace was dangerous. It promised an end to war—but only by silencing every other voice. In a world ruled by force, idealists were the sharpest blades.
And the Akatsuki were gathering too many followers.
Too much power.
Hanzo could see the path they walked—and it led straight to rebellion.
To them, he was an obstacle.
To him, they were a threat.
So, he would strike first.
Two birds with one stone.
Kill Hatake Kazane, and crush the Akatsuki in one sweep.
Rain would belong to Hanzo—and Hanzo alone.