Looking down at the people of the Leaf craning their necks to stare up at the Hokage Tower, Ren couldn't help but feel a faint, almost inappropriate sense of amusement.
From this height, they really did look like ants.
So many of them, packed together shoulder to shoulder, eyes fixed upward, breaths held as if the future itself was about to be decided by the next few words spoken. A ridiculous thought crossed his mind, how fragile this scene actually was.
One poorly made rumor about an explosive tag, one moment of panic, and the tightly packed crowd below could turn into chaos. A stampede, hundreds dead without a single enemy blade being drawn.
Ren shook his head slightly, forcibly clearing the thought away.
'Focus.'
He stepped forward, boots scraping lightly against stone, and the murmurs below slowly quieted. Thousands of eyes locked onto him. Some held hope, some fear, some curiosity, others suspicion. Ren let them look. Let them judge.
Then he spoke.
"People of the Leaf," his voice rang out, carried cleanly by chakra and intent rather than raw volume. "My name is Ren Takahashi Senju."
A ripple moved through the crowd at the name alone.
"My father is Juichi Takahashi," he continued evenly, "and my mother was Sayaka Senju, the daughter of Tobirama Senju."
"Many of you may have heard my name before," he went on. "Some of you have worked with me. Some of you have fought beside me. Some of you may only know me through rumors and half-finished stories whispered behind closed doors."
His eyes swept across the crowd, sharp and assessing.
"But today," Ren said, his tone shifting, gaining weight, "I do not stand here as a son, grandson, subordinate, teammate or even a superior."
The air seemed to tighten.
"Today, I stand before you as the future leader of this village."
A pause, just long enough to let the words sink in.
"As the future Fifth Hokage."
The reaction was immediate and explosive. Voices overlapped, some shouted in excitement, others in disbelief. Ren let it happen for a few seconds, then raised his hand. The gesture alone, calm and unhurried, was enough to quiet the crowd once more.
"I know what many of you are thinking," Ren said plainly. "You think I am too young. That I lack experience. That no matter my bloodline or strength, I am not yet fit to shoulder a responsibility like this."
He nodded once.
"You're right."
That single admission stunned them more than arrogance ever could.
"That is precisely why," Ren continued, "I will not rule blindly. I will learn. I will be taught by the man who has carried this village through decades of war and peace alike, the Professor, Third Hokage himself."
He glanced briefly toward Hiruzen, not with reverence, but with something closer to professional acknowledgment.
"I will extract everything he knows," Ren said bluntly, "and I will become a better leader than he ever was."
A few people flinched at the audacity. Others looked intrigued. Hiruzen, for his part, only smiled faintly.
"But," Ren said, and now his voice hardened, "I cannot do this alone."
He leaned forward slightly, gaze intense.
"A Hokage is not a god. A Hokage does not build a village by himself. If you expect me to make this village stronger while you slack off, hesitate, or hide behind excuses, then you will be disappointed."
A murmur of unease passed through the crowd.
"I need every single one of you," Ren said. "Shinobi and civilians alike. Only if each of you performs your duties properly can I help you grow. Only then can we push this village to heights it has never reached before."
A grin slowly spread across his face, not warm or cruel, but sharp and confident.
As he spoke, he casually placed one foot up onto the railing and it came down directly on Danzo's arm.
There was a wet, sickening crunch as the already ruined limb collapsed further under the pressure. Danzo let out a muffled sound, barely audible over the crowd, but the message was clear.
Ren didn't even look down.
He raised his right hand high, fist clenched, chakra humming faintly around him as his voice thundered across the village.
"ONLY THEN," he declared, "WILL I BE ABLE TO MAKE KONOHA GREAT AGAIN!"
The phrase echoed once.
Twice.
"SO, PEOPLE OF THE LEAF," Ren shouted, eyes blazing, "ARE YOU WITH ME?!"
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then…
"MAKE KONOHA GREAT AGAIN!"
The shout erupted from somewhere near the front of the crowd.
Another voice joined.
Then another.
And another.
The chant spread like wildfire, rolling outward in waves until the entire village seemed to shake with it.
"MAKE KONOHA GREAT AGAIN!"
"MAKE KONOHA GREAT AGAIN!"
"MAKE KONOHA GREAT AGAIN!"
Ren stood tall on the tower, the rising sun casting his shadow long across the gathered masses. The village roared beneath him, and for the first time in a long while, Konoha didn't feel like a place barely holding itself together.
It felt like a village ready to move forward.
And Ren smiled, already planning how to drag it there, whether it wanted to go gently or not.
~
Ren stepped back without ceremony, giving Hiruzen the space at the front once more. The crowd below was still roaring, the echoes of their chant bouncing off stone and rooftops, but up on the Hokage Tower the mood had shifted again, quieter, heavier, more aware of what came next.
The grin on Ren's face, however, refused to fade.
He settled himself between Tsunade and Itachi, hands tucked casually into his pockets, posture loose in sharp contrast to the tension around him. Leaning slightly forward, he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for those beside him to hear.
"Man, that was fun," he said with genuine satisfaction. "Maybe I should conquer the whole world someday. Just to see what it feels like to give a speech to a million people."
The effect was immediate.
Every single person on the Hokage Tower froze.
Hiruzen, mid-step, actually stopped walking. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again as if his brain needed a second to catch up with what it had just heard. Tsunade's eye twitched. Itachi went utterly still, his expression unreadable but his attention razor-focused on Ren. Even the ANBU guards standing further back stiffened.
No one laughed.
No one scoffed.
No one dismissed it as childish nonsense.
Because the terrifying truth was this, Ren wasn't boasting. He wasn't drunk on applause. He wasn't even serious in the conventional sense.
He was capable.
With Ren's talent, growth rate, lineage, and sheer absurd ceiling, the idea of him conquering the world wasn't a joke in the way most people joked. It was a theoretical possibility. One that, given enough time, enough provocation, or enough justification, could very well come to pass.
And if that ever happened… it wouldn't be a conquest measured in speeches and flags.
It would be war.
A great one.
Ren noticed the sudden stillness and the way everyone had gone rigid. He glanced left, then right, taking in their expressions, and snorted softly.
"Relax," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I was joking."
Then, after a beat…
"Mostly."
That earned him a few looks that bordered on existential dread.
Hiruzen rubbed his temple and let out a long, tired sigh, as if he had aged another year just from hearing that sentence. He straightened his robes, stepped forward, and firmly reclaimed the moment before Ren could say anything else alarming.
The Third Hokage faced the village once more.
"My fellow villagers," Hiruzen began, his voice steady and amplified by chakra, carrying clearly across the packed square. "Yesterday, by decree of the Fire Daimyo, Danzo Shimura who was accused of treason against the village was found guilty."
A hush fell over the crowd.
"The sentence passed down was execution," he continued. "To be carried out by my own hands."
A ripple of surprise passed through the people. Many had expected this moment, but hearing it stated so plainly still sent a chill through them.
"Before that," Hiruzen said, lowering his head slightly, "I owe all of you an apology."
The words alone caused murmurs to break out.
"For many years," he went on, "I called this man my friend. I trusted him. I allowed him to work beside me, close to the heart of the village. And yet, all that time, he harbored intentions that ran directly against the people he claimed to protect."
His hands clenched slowly at his sides.
"That I failed to see it sooner is my fault," Hiruzen said plainly. "That I failed to stop him before his actions caused so much harm… is also my fault."
The crowd listened in rapt silence now.
"If I had acted earlier," he admitted, "perhaps last night would never have happened. Perhaps lives would not have been lost. Perhaps the village would not have been pushed to the brink."
He straightened, eyes sharp despite the weight in them.
"I will not hide behind excuses. I will not deflect blame. I take full responsibility for every shadow this traitor cast upon the Leaf while standing at my side."
That declaration hit hard.
"I swear to you," Hiruzen continued, his voice firming, "that I and my successor will ensure that Danzo Shimura's influence ends here. His shadow will never again fall upon this village."
A beat of silence followed.
Then applause.
Cheers rose up, loud and earnest. People shouted Hiruzen's name, voices full of relief and trust. To most of the villagers, the narrative was simple and comforting, the Hokage had been deceived by a trusted friend, and now justice was finally being served.
Only a handful of sharp minds in the crowd noticed the careful phrasing. The way Hiruzen accepted responsibility without exposing the full extent of his complicity. The way the truth was shaped, not lied about, but not fully revealed either.
Ren leaned slightly toward Tsunade, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear him over the distant murmur of the crowd below. His gaze flicked briefly toward Hiruzen's back, then returned to her conflicted expression.
"You know," he said casually, almost too casually for the weight of the words, "if you ever want to launch a revolution, I'm with you a hundred percent."
Tsunade's eyes shifted, sharpening for a moment as she glanced at him from the corner of her vision.
"It'd just be a matter of taking the Hokage seat a few years earlier," Ren continued, shrugging one shoulder. "I'll handle it clean and fast. What do you say, big sis?"
For a long moment, Tsunade didn't respond.
Her eyes stayed fixed on Hiruzen, on his hunched shoulders, on the way age and regret clung to him heavier than any cloak. Memories flickered through her mind, her grandfather's laughter, Tobirama's stern back, Dan's smile, Nawaki's blood on her hands. Too many ghosts. Too many failures layered on top of each other.
Finally, she let out a slow breath and shook her head.
"No," she said quietly. "I don't think I have the strength for that anymore."
Ren blinked once, then tilted his head slightly.
"My heart's not strong enough," Tsunade added, her voice steady but tired. "Not for tearing the village apart again, even if it's for the right reasons."
Ren studied her face for a second longer, then shrugged again, completely unbothered.
"Well," he said lightly, "my offer stands. Anytime. Just say the word and we'll start."
That earned a small, genuine smile from Tsunade. She reached out and patted his head, fingers lingering for half a second longer than necessary.
"Thanks," she said softly.
At the front of the tower, Hiruzen had already finished addressing the village. The cheers had died down, replaced by a tense, expectant silence that pressed down on the square like a physical weight. The Third Hokage stepped forward, and chakra rippled faintly as a ceremonial sword formed in his grasp, simple, unadorned, and sharp.
He stood beside Danzo.
For a moment, Hiruzen simply looked at him. Not as a Hokage. Not as an executioner. But as a man staring at the remains of a friendship that had rotted beyond recognition.
He placed the blade beside Danzo's neck and leaned in slightly.
"Any last words," he murmured, "old friend?"
Danzo's eyelids fluttered.
Slowly, painfully, his eyes opened. They were unfocused at first, then gradually sharpened as he took in the scene, the Hokage Tower, the sea of villagers below, the faces filled with anticipation, relief, and hatred. He had imagined this moment many times in the distant past, back when he still felt fear. Back when execution was a possibility rather than an abstract concept.
Now?
There was nothing. No terror, regret or fire. Just emptiness.
A soft, broken chuckle escaped his throat, dry and humorless. His lips moved sluggishly, every word dragged out as if his body itself was reluctant to cooperate.
"Shut… up…" he rasped. "You… hypo…critical bastard…"
His gaze shifted slightly, unfocused, staring past Hiruzen and into something only he could see.
"You… will… follow me… soon."
With that, Danzo closed his eyes.
Hiruzen inhaled slowly.
He looked up at the sky, the pale blue of early morning stretching endlessly above them. Then his gaze drifted to the Hokage Monument behind him, carving after carving etched into stone. His eyes lingered on the Second Hokage's face longer than the others.
'I am sorry, sensei,' he thought. 'If a day like this has come… then I don't think I can call myself a good Hokage. I'm sorry I failed you.'
He closed his eyes.
Then he opened them.
The hesitation vanished.
With a single, clean motion, Hiruzen swung the sword.
The blade cut through flesh and bone without resistance.
Danzo's head separated from his body, slipping forward. Hiruzen caught it instinctively, steadying it before it could fall. Blood sprayed briefly, then slowed, staining the wall beneath them.
The Third Hokage turned toward the village, lifting the severed head high for all to see. His voice rang out, heavy and absolute, carrying across the entire square.
"This," he declared, "is the end of any traitor."
His eyes swept over the crowd.
"No matter your rank," he continued. "No matter your status. No matter your connections."
Silence followed, thick, oppressive, final and then, slowly, the people of the Leaf bowed their heads.
The shadow that had haunted the village for decades was finally gone.
But on top of the Hokage Tower everything went wrong.
In the same instant the cheers rose, Ren moved.
He shoved the Fire Daimyo forward without ceremony, placing him squarely in front of himself, and stepped behind Hiruzen. At the same time, chakra surged through the tower.
A massive earthen wall erupted upward between Ren and Hiruzen, splitting the rooftop in half.
SQUELCH.
The sound was wet and wrong.
Ren looked down slowly.
A sword had punched straight through his stomach, right through the spot already marred by the deep spatial gash from earlier. Blood spilled freely, soaking into his clothes, dripping down onto the stone beneath his feet.
Yet Ren did not stagger.
He did not gasp.
He did not even tense.
He lifted his eyes calmly and looked straight at the person holding the sword.
Itachi.
Ren's expression was eerily composed, almost bored, as if this were an inconvenience rather than a mortal wound.
In a completely calm, level tone, he asked,
"What are you trying to do, Itachi?"
~~~~~
{Man, what a fun chapter to write and read, right?}
{Anyway, who's with me to Make Konoha Great Again, it was an idea from one of the pat readers Thegodfather, and it was too good to pass up. Thanks man!}
{Also, I'm starting something new in my personal life, wish me luck, and maybe even try to guess what it is.}