On the other side of the suddenly raised wall, Hiruzen did not even allow himself the luxury of hesitation.
His mind accelerated, decades of political instinct and battlefield command snapping into place in a single breath. Whatever had just happened behind that wall, whatever danger now existed, could not be allowed to spill into the eyes of the village.
Without missing a beat, he reached out and firmly took hold of the Fire Daimyo's hand, lifting it high alongside his own as if this had always been the plan.
"Daimyo-sama," Hiruzen announced loudly, his voice steady, resonant, and perfectly controlled, "has graced us with his presence on this most important occasion. Not only did he personally declare the punishment of the traitor Danzo Shimura, but he also honored the village by allowing the execution to proceed under his own witness."
His grip on the Daimyo's hand tightened ever so slightly, reassuring on the surface, insistent underneath.
"I now ask His Excellency," Hiruzen continued, smiling warmly, "to share a few words with the people of the Leaf."
Outwardly, he looked calm and composed, as if he was entirely in control.
Inwardly, his thoughts were a storm.
'Why was Itachi trying to kill Ren? No, it was not Ren, was he trying to kill me?'
Hiruzen's heart pounded once, hard, but his face never showed it.
'Was that what Danzo meant when he said 'You will follow me soon.''
The words echoed unpleasantly in his mind.
His eyes drifted, almost involuntarily, to the severed head still in his hand. Danzo's expression was frozen in that same hollow calm, lips slightly parted, eyes closed as if asleep.
For the briefest moment, Hiruzen felt as though the dead man were mocking him even now.
'No,' he told himself firmly. 'Whatever is happening behind that wall… it has nothing to do with the villagers. I will not let panic take root.'
Below the tower, the people of the Leaf were visibly confused.
They had seen the earth rise suddenly, a massive wall erupting atop the Hokage Tower without warning. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, heads craning upward, eyes darting between the wall and the figures still visible above it.
But when they noticed the Leaf Village emblem emblazoned prominently on the wall's surface, most of that unease dissolved.
'Some kind of ceremony,' they reasoned. 'Like a flourish, a display of power.'
After everything they had seen that morning, no one questioned it too deeply. The village trusted its Hokage. Trusted that whatever was happening was under control.
The most bewildered person present, however, was the Fire Daimyo himself.
Only moments ago, he had been standing quietly with his guards, observing from a safe distance, more than happy to let the shinobi handle their own grim business. Then, without warning, someone had shoved him forward firmly and before he could even open his mouth to protest, his hand had been raised into the air and the attention of the entire village had snapped onto him.
He glanced back once, reflexively.
All he saw was a towering wall of earth, carved cleanly, marked with the Leaf's symbol.
'What in the world…?' he thought, unease prickling at the back of his neck.
But he had not ruled a nation for decades by freezing in moments like this.
The Daimyo straightened his back, adjusted his robes, and let a practiced smile settle onto his face, the same smile he had worn through countless speeches, treaties, and hollow promises.
He turned toward the sea of villagers below.
"People of the Hidden Leaf," he began, voice projecting clearly, "today marks the end of a dark chapter and the beginning of a more stable future."
As he spoke, his confidence returned, bolstered by habit if nothing else. He spoke of peace. Of cooperation between the village and the Land of Fire. Of trust restored and prosperity ahead.
The crowd listened.
They cheered at the right moments.
They believed.
~~~
Behind the wall, time seemed to freeze.
For a single, fragile heartbeat, no one truly understood what had happened.
Ren had moved first, his body reacting on instinct rather than thought, chakra surging outward as the earth answered him, a massive wall erupting between himself and Hiruzen. It was not a defensive gesture meant for show. It was raw, immediate, protective. A line drawn without hesitation.
And then Itachi moved.
There was no warning, no flare of chakra and absolutely no wasted motion.
One moment he stood still beside Tsunade, eyes unreadable, posture calm. The next, he was already past Ren's peripheral vision, blade in hand, the tip driving forward with terrifying precision.
The sword pierced straight through Ren's torso.
It was not a shallow wound or a glancing strike. It went clean through.
For an instant, the world behind the wall went utterly silent.
There were no gasps, shouts or rush of movement.
Just the soft, sickening sound of steel sliding through flesh, followed by the faint tremor of Ren's body as the impact registered.
Ren looked down slowly, almost curiously, at the blade protruding from his stomach. Blood began to seep around the steel, dark and heavy, trailing down his clothes.
Then he lifted his head.
His expression was calm, not shocked or angry.
Just… flat.
"What are you trying to do, Itachi?" he asked.
His voice was steady, too steady.
That alone sent a ripple of unease through everyone present.
Before anyone could answer, before Itachi could even withdraw his blade, Ren's gaze shifted, sharp and sudden, toward the edge of the wall.
There the Fire Daimyo's two personal guardians had half-drawn their weapons.
They had seen Ren shove the Daimyo forward earlier. They had seen the wall rise. And now, through the partial opening, they had just seen a child, no, the future Hokage, impaled by a blade.
Their training screamed at them to act. Their instincts screamed louder.
Ren's eyes met theirs.
The pressure hit them like a mountain collapsing.
It was not killing intent in the usual sense. There was no malice, no wild rage. Instead, it was something far worse, something vast and indifferent, like standing beneath a storm that did not even acknowledge your existence.
Ren spoke again.
"Go to the front," he said calmly. "Stand behind the Daimyo. Like you were instructed to do."
The words themselves were simple but the weight behind them was not.
For the two guards, it felt as if an ancient beast had turned its gaze upon them, something old, something immeasurably strong, something that did not need to raise its voice to command obedience.
Their throats went dry.
Their hands trembled.
Neither of them dared to reply.
In near-perfect synchronization, they flickered away from behind the wall, reappearing behind the Daimyo exactly where they should have been from the start without any hesitation or protest.
Just compliance.
On the other side of the wall, the Fire Daimyo caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.
His smile twitched just slightly.
'They're back,' he noted. 'Good.'
He did not turn around. Did not ask questions. Whatever had just happened behind him was clearly not something he was meant to acknowledge. So he continued speaking, voice smooth and confident, addressing the villagers as if nothing in the world were amiss.
Beside him, Hiruzen noticed the guards' return as well.
For the briefest instant, his eyes narrowed.
'It's good they are sent here.' he thought. 'But… what in the world is happening back there?
He did not turn around either.
The performance had to continue.
~~~
Behind the wall, the world narrowed to a handful of people and a single, bleeding truth.
Itachi's Mangekyo spun slowly, its pattern sharp and merciless, reflecting faintly in Ren's clear blue eyes. Neither flinched. Neither looked away. There was no rage in either gaze, no panic, no hesitation, only a quiet, terrifying certainty on both sides.
Tsunade moved first.
She appeared beside Ren in a blur, hands already glowing with dense, controlled chakra as they pressed against his stomach. The sight of blood soaking through his clothes made her teeth clench. She could feel it immediately, the instability, the lingering spatial interference, the way Ren's body was already struggling to compensate. Her anger wasn't loud, but it was absolute.
Fugaku arrived beside Itachi an instant later.
Unlike Tsunade, he froze.
His eyes darted from Ren's wound to the sword in his son's hand, then to Itachi's face. Bewilderment crossed his features, quickly followed by something far more dangerous, fear. Not fear of Ren. Not fear of Tsunade.
Fear of what this moment meant.
They had just dragged the Uchiha back from the brink of annihilation. Blood had been spilled, yes, but the clan still lived. The village still stood. And now, in the very next breath, his own son had driven a blade through the body of the boy who had just saved them all.
Fugaku opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He didn't know what to say.
Itachi spoke first.
"You should not have stepped in," he said calmly. His voice carried no anger, no regret. It was flat, precise, as if he were stating a simple fact. "You were not the target."
Ren met his eyes without wavering.
"I know," Ren replied just as evenly. "That's exactly why I stepped in."
The words landed like a quiet verdict.
Ren continued, his voice steady despite the pain Tsunade was forcibly holding at bay. "Think about it. Really think. What do you think would have happened if the Uchiha's young clan leader assassinated the Third Hokage in front of the entire village, in front of the Daimyo, during a public execution?"
His gaze flicked briefly toward Fugaku, then back to Itachi.
"The Uchiha wouldn't have been 'suspected.' They would've been declared traitors on the spot. Not just you. Not just your father. Everyone. Men, women, children. The entire village would've turned on your clan before the blood even dried."
Fugaku's breath caught because Ren was right it was cold, brutal and the undeniable truth.
Itachi's grip tightened slightly on the sword.
Then he pulled it free.
The blade slid out with a wet sound, and Ren's blood spilled freely for a moment before Tsunade slammed more chakra into the wound, her expression murderous. The flesh began to knit together, slowly, reluctantly, resisting the healing as if the injury itself remembered the violence that created it.
Itachi lowered the blade, blood dripping from its edge.
"It is for the village," he said. "The Third Hokage is as responsible for its decay as Danzo was. As long as he lives, the rot remains. Unless both of them are gone, the village cannot move forward."
His Mangekyo burned brighter.
"If that makes me a traitor, so be it. If that means my death, so be it."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No doubt.
Ren let out a quiet, incredulous scoff.
Tsunade shot him a sharp look, but he ignored her.
"Oh yeah?" Ren said. "And what about the rest of your clan?"
The question hung in the air.
"What about Sasuke?" Ren continued, his tone sharpening just a fraction. "Are you really willing to put him through that? Growing up hearing that his brother was a traitor who murdered the Hokage? Watching the village spit on his name? Living his entire life in the shadow of your 'sacrifice'?"
Itachi's Mangekyo pulsed just once, the air around him trembled almost imperceptibly.
"This is also for him," Itachi said, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. "You wouldn't understand, Ren-san. Let me do the dirty work for you."
As he spoke, his gaze locked fully onto Ren's and suddenly the pressure changed.
Invisible, insidious, reality itself seemed to tilt, colors deepening, edges blurring, chakra shifting in ways that Tsunade and Fugaku both felt instinctively.
A high-level Genjutsu applied by the Mangekyo.
Ren didn't blink, didn't even stiffen, he didn't react at all.
A moment passed.
Then another.
And nothing happened.
Ren looked at Itachi almost… pityingly as he spoke
"Genjutsu of this level doesn't work on me."
~~~~~
{Man, you won't understand how long I have for Ren to say this line, it was one of the things in my bucket list for the fic, and now I have done it.}
{Many of you would have some doubts about what is happening, but don't worry it'll all become clear in the upcoming chapter.}