Tsunade was all business as she pressed chakra-laden hands to Hiruzen's chest, her eyes narrowing with focus.
Green healing light began to knit flesh and bone, fighting back death itself. "You really never make things easy, Sensei. Hang in there, you stubborn old man."
Jiraiya, meanwhile, stood up with a roll of his shoulders, cracking his neck. He glanced at Danzo—face cold, but voice full of that classic Jiraiya mischief.
"Well, Danzo… guess you didn't count on a Sannin encore performance, did you?" He grinned. "You always wanted the spotlight, but you look terrible on stage. For the record, your coup's got zero sex appeal."
He gave a thumbs up to Tsunade and Hiruzen, then raised his voice, using his full "Legendary Sannin" aura:
"This is an official order—from Jiraiya of the Sannin! All loyal Konoha shinobi, immobilize Root! No more betrayal in the village! If you're with Konoha, prove it—NOW!"
The ANBU and leaf-nin exchanged tense glances… then several nodded, ready to make their move.
Across the square, Root operatives tensed, but a surge of loyal ninja crashed toward them.
Jiraiya faced Danzo, sighing. "You know, Danzo, if I'd known you'd be this much trouble, I'd have let Tsunade punch you out years ago."
Then he stomped down and slammed his hands together in a practiced motion.
"Alright, old friends—let's do this!"
A puff of smoke erupted.
Fukasaku and Shima landed on his shoulders with their classic bickering:
Fukasaku eyed Danzo, unimpressed. "Oi, oi, Jiraiya-chan, this isn't the kind of opponent you usually drag us out for. You sure you didn't just want a snack break?"
Shima sniffed. "Don't start, Pa! That old mummy over there's leaking enough chakra to drown the village. Ugh, what a smell!"
Fukasaku peered closer—then stiffened. "Hold on… this feeling… Is that—wood style!?"
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed. "That's why I went full Sage Mode before I even showed up. Couldn't risk coming in half-baked against this guy."
Fukasaku grinned, but his gaze stayed sharp. "Heh. If you're worried, it's gotta be serious."
Shima huffed, then gave a fierce nod. "Good thing we didn't stop for dumplings on the way, then! Let's show Konoha what real sage teamwork looks like!"
Jiraiya smiled, voice resolute:
"Thanks, you two. Let's go all out—no holding back!"
The three of them moved as one—oil, wind, and fire weaving together.
"Sage Art: Fire Release—Goemon!"
The ground shook as a river of superheated flames surged forth, igniting Danzo's roots and shattering his wood style jutsu in a storm of fire and wind.
Tsunade kept healing Hiruzen, glancing up with a smirk. "This idiot never could resist making a flashy entrance…"
Hiruzen, half-laughing, half-coughing, managed to whisper, "Some things never change."
And so...
the battle for Konoha's soul truly began.
Jiraiya's Sage Mode eyes narrowed as he scanned the chaos around the square...the wounded, the panicked civilians, the terrified children clutching their parents sleeves.
"Tch. This is no place for a real fight."
With a booming voice that echoed through the square, Jiraiya shouted,
"Everyone! Evacuate toward the eastern gate! Medical ninja, get the wounded to safety! ANBU, secure the perimeter!"
He didn't wait for an answer. In a blur, he shot forward, leaping over rooftops with Fukasaku and Shima on his shoulders, making a straight line for the ruined, deserted quarter—where the village's destruction was at its worst.
Danzo, cold and silent, followed after with terrifying speed, the ground twisting beneath him as Wood Style roots surged in his wake.
The moment they landed in the shattered district—half-collapsed streets, broken towers, and the scars of Danzo's earlier rampage—Jiraiya spun around, raising his guard.
His sage markings glowed. The air felt heavy, crackling with the promise of a legendary clash.
Danzo stopped a dozen meters away. His arm—covered in Sharingan—twitched at his side, and the Wood Style chakra around him pulsed like a living beast.
Danzo's single visible eye narrowed. "You're a fool, Jiraiya. All this power wasted on sentiment. Konoha doesn't need more legends. It needs a ruler with resolve!"
He slammed his palms to the ground.
"Wood Style: Deep Forest Emergence!"
The street exploded...ancient trees erupted in every direction, roots crashing through pavement, branches whipping toward Jiraiya in a swirling storm of violence.
Jiraiya's hands flew through seals.
"Oil Style—Frog Wild Bomb!"
A tidal wave of sticky oil smashed into the forest, slowing the wood style for a heartbeat.
"Now, Ma!"
Shima and Fukasaku leaped forward, unleashing a coordinated salvo of wind and flame:
"Sage Art: Amphibian Boil!"
Superheated steam and wind clashed with Danzo's rampaging roots...turning half the trees into ash and sending a scalding shockwave across the battlefield.
Then Jiraiya's eyes narrowed. "Let's go, Ma! Pa!"
Fukasaku and Shima leaped from his shoulders, unleashing wind and fire...
"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"
"Fire Style: Blazing Toad Shot!"
Danzo slid aside with surprising speed, wood shielding him from the fire as he countered:
"Wood Style: Thorn Whip!"
Tendrils snapped through the air. Jiraiya flipped over, oil bombs spraying from his palm.
"Take this!"
The ground erupted in steam as hot oil clashed with roots, creating a white-out.
Danzo was suddenly in Jiraiya's face, striking with the edge of his staff. Jiraiya blocked, the two exchanging a blur of kicks and punches—taijutsu trading blows with pure Sage force.
Shima sang out a jutsu—
"Paralyzing Toad Song!"
...but Danzo's Sharingan glinted, and he shut his ears with roots, disrupting the genjutsu just in time.
Jiraiya drove forward, landing two solid blows, shattering Danzo's wood arm. Danzo countered, roots lashing out and slicing Jiraiya's sleeve.
Both men panted, sweat flying, neither giving ground.
"You're strong, Danzo. But not strong enough!" Jiraiya growled, hands flying through seals.
Fukasaku and Shima joined in, channeling all their chakra as Jiraiya gathered swirling nature energy in his palm.
Danzo's eyes widened. "Tch—!"
"Sage Art: Ultra-Big Ball Rasengan!"
Jiraiya lunged, slamming the gigantic Rasengan into Danzo's chest at point-blank range. The explosion ripped through rubble, blasting Danzo through a collapsed tower, dust and roots flying everywhere.
Smoke billowed.
Jiraiya landed hard, breathing ragged, watching the ruins.
Fukasaku blinked. "Did… did we get him?"
But in the swirling debris, Danzo's body shimmered...his wounds rewinding, his form reforming, as a Sharingan in his arm snapped shut.
Jiraiya's eyes narrowed in realization. "Izanagi…"
Danzo stepped forward, coughing blood but alive. "Don't think you've won, Jiraiya. I've already died once to reach this seat...I won't fall so easily!"
--
On the other side of the ruined plaza, Tsunade's hands glowed bright green as she pressed them to Hiruzen's battered chest.
Blood stained her sleeves, flecked the ground, painted the world in shades she once couldn't bear to face.
For a while, only the sounds of Jiraiya's distant battle and the muffled shouts of ninja filled the air.
Hiruzen, propped up against a slab of fallen stone, hesitated before speaking. His voice was hoarse, but gentle...
"…Tsunade. Are you… alright?"
He glanced at her hands—so steady now, though blood smeared her fingers.
He lowered his gaze, hesitant to press further.
"It's just… with your hemophobia, after all you've been through… I—"
He trailed off, uncertain, not wanting to wound her with the wrong words.
For a long moment, Tsunade was quiet. Her eyes were hidden behind her golden bangs, her shoulders tense.
The healing chakra pulsed between her palms, but her thoughts drifted...back through years of fear, heartbreak, and loss.
And that day.
Then, softly, almost too quiet to hear, she answered:
"It's fine now."
Her voice was calm.
She kept her eyes down, bangs shadowing her face, but her hands didn't waver.
"I have… things I need to protect. That's all."
A small, almost sad smile flickered at the edge of her mouth.
The healing light faded from Tsunade's hands just as the distant clash of jutsu and splintering wood came to a sudden, eerie halt.
The battlefield was silent...a silence heavy with finality.
It seemed the winner had finally been decided.
Both Tsunade and Hiruzen stiffened, sharing a tense glance.
"…The battle's over," Hiruzen said quietly, voice worried.
He steadied himself, pushing up from the stone. "Tsunade, I'm fine now. Let's go. We need to back up Jiraiya—I've got a bad feeling about this."
Tsunade nodded, and together they sped through the ruined village, leaping over rubble and broken rooftops toward the site of the fight.
They arrived and both froze, stunned by what they saw.
Jiraiya was kneeling in the dust, Sage robes torn and face battered, blood streaking his jaw. But there was a crooked, helpless smile tugging at his lips.
Across from him, Danzo lay sprawled on the ground...half his body shattered, face twisted in defeat. The remnants of Wood Style branches curled from his ruined arm, twitching feebly.
For a heartbeat, it looked like victory.
But then, all three Sannin's faces changed.
Hiruzen moved first—sweeping in, he hauled Jiraiya up and away with speed that belied his years.
The instant they cleared the space, Danzo's corpse convulsed, chakra surging out of control.
A monstrous eruption of Wood Style exploded from his body, thorns and branches spiraling outward, tearing up stone and splitting the earth.
A gigantic, thorny forest burst from the corpse, filling the ruined district with twisted, spiked trees.
"Whew… that was close." Hiruzen exhaled shakily, glancing at Jiraiya with relief.
Jiraiya groaned, still slung awkwardly in the old man's arms. "You can put me down now, Sensei… Feels kinda lame being carried like this."
Tsunade couldn't help herself—a faint, genuine smile curled at the corner of her mouth as she watched the exchange. Even Hiruzen let out a weary laugh.
But Tsunade's gaze hardened as she studied the monstrous forest.
Her voice was confused: "What happened? Why did Danzo just… explode like that?"
Hiruzen's eyes were full of regret as he answered. "It must have been the First Hokage's cells. In his wounded, exhausted state, the power ran wild. His body couldn't handle it—so it tore itself apart."
He sighed, the weight of years heavy on his shoulders. "He must have known the risk. But he still chose this path…"
Tsunade's expression didn't soften. "Don't waste sympathy on him, Sensei. He never deserved it."
Hiruzen only nodded, sorrow flickering in his gaze.
Jiraiya, never one to let things end on a down note, forced a grin. "Come on, enough doom and gloom! Didn't I just save the village? Don't I get a reward for my heroics?"
Tsunade's fist cracked across the back of his head.
"OW—! Jeez, Tsunade! No wonder no one wants to date you…"
"Want me to add a matching bruise, you pervert?"
Hiruzen just smiled, the smallest spark of hope returning to his old eyes as the three stood—together again, in the battered heart of Konoha.
--
A Few Days Later
The winds of rumor swept through the shinobi world, faster than any hawk or messenger. It was on every tongue, every street corner from the Land of Iron to the deepest forests of Waterfall:
Shimura Danzo, the feared Root leader who'd seized Konoha in a bloody coup, was dead.
Defeated not by a foreign army or enemy tailed beast, but by Konoha's own legendary Sannin.
Jiraiya of the Toads, victorious.
Tsunade the Slug Princess, returned.
The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, alive—battered, but standing.
For those who had dreamed of Konoha's fall, the message was clear: Not yet.
Villages that had quietly prepared to send "observers"—or even troops—suddenly found better things to do. Konoha's flame still burned bright, and the Sannin's return sent shivers through every council.
Atop a lonely cliff
Uchiha Itachi sat cross-legged beneath the open sky, the wind stirring his black cloak. A rare, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he heard the news.
In the Kazekage's Office, Sunagakure—
Rasa, the Fourth Kazekage, barely glanced at the report in his hand.
"Hmph."
He tossed it aside, golden eyes cool. "Konoha's glory is always overblown."
In the Lightning Village—Kumogakure's Tower
The Fourth Raikage, arms folded and muscles flexing, stared hard at the messenger's scroll.
His expression was like thunder before a storm—hard, brooding, impossible to read.
No one in the room dared interrupt his thoughts.
And in the Stone Village
Onoki, the old Tsuchikage, was in the middle of a spectacularly comic struggle with his aching back.
"Ugh—ow, my hip! Those Sannin brats are still running around after all these years?"
He waved off his assistant, mumbling,
"Bah, as long as Konoha doesn't send them my way, I'll keep my back in one piece."
He settled down onto his cushion with a huff, muttering,
"Always Konoha this, Konoha that… Next time, let them try saving their village with a bad back—then we'll see who's a legend!"
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