"What is the meaning of this!"
Hiruzen flung off his Hokage cloak and squared up in combat garb. Around him, stances bloomed like steel flowers. Fugaku and Shisui's tomoe spun to three apiece; Hiashi's veins rose as he slid into the first form of Gentle Fist.
He had already had enough of this boy who didn't so much as look his way.
Hyuga was Konoha's foremost clan. And this brat dared ignore him?
Still, no one moved. One glance at Danzō pressed flat into the snow by nothing but presence, and bravado cooled fast. Even the proudest Hyuga kept their outrage inside their teeth.
Mo Ke waved lazily. "No need to be so tense. I dislike having my words doubted. Consider this a light warning. Who knew Elder Danzō would be so frail he'd salute the ground."
Danzō burned with fury but didn't dare rip his wrappings and show his science. The strike had been too sudden; he'd lost initiative and with it his face. He forced himself up an inch, then two, and shook like a pole in wind.
Mo Ke watched, faintly disappointed. He had half-expected a theatrical "Fine, Hiruzen, I abandon my humanity." If you don't want your secret seen, then stay down where you put yourself.
He turned away and spoke as though nothing unusual lay groaning at his feet. "As for your 'doubts'… red eyes are no mystery. Blood mixes in the shinobi world. You of all people should know that, Elder Danzō."
His gaze flicked with distaste toward the man's bandaged arm. Even without peeling anything, his senses crawled over a face of flesh and a chain of blinkless eyes. Vile.
"And watching Naruto is simple. As an Uzumaki, I inherited the rare Kagura Mind's Eye. My senses reach for kilometers. Compared to it, most Byakugan see less clearly."
He let Observation Haki breathe outward.
Every skin on that field prickled, as if a stranger's gaze had opened behind their necks. Doubt collapsed into a hush. Hiashi and Hizashi went pale as drifted snow. The Hyuga's proud line about seeing all things felt thin when a man could stand in front of you and watch your back.
When heads nodded despite themselves, Mo Ke smiled, then let the smile fade.
"Uzushio is gone. As its nearest ally, Konoha watched it burn. There is no righteousness in that. Kushina, an orphan of that fall, did not hate you. She bore the Nine Tails for your village for over a decade. Her son, Uzumaki Naruto, was chained to the same fate.
"You may be false to Uzushio. How have you repaid mother and child? You seed rumors. You train the village to shun them. Then you play kind to harvest their gratitude. This is how the 'First Shinobi Village' withered to this handful in the snow."
Hiruzen held his tongue. Danzō was still eating snow. Kakashi and Shisui, hearing this rot spelled out from the source, looked shaken. Each had guessed parts. Neither had imagined the origin pointed up the tower.
"Even so," Mo Ke went on, "for Kushina's sake I will not destroy Konoha. There are still hearts here that are kind to Naruto."
A breath of relief. Then the hook.
"But I am taking custody. I will adopt Naruto as my son. I will not remove him from Konoha. I will live here until he is grown."
He lifted a finger, counting terms.
"First: end the prejudice. I do not care how. You need not reveal he is Fourth Hokage's child. He deserves a normal life, not a gilded cage.
"Second: Hyuga Atsushi. Do not insult me by claiming you could not guess what a blond boy named Uzumaki is. And you, Uchiha Fugaku, timid, hedging, a failure as clan head and as chief of the police.
A 'friend' of the Fourth who looked the other way as Root did its work, and you even blocked Mikoto each time she tried to help the boy."
Mikoto had been one of the few who always softened when she saw Naruto and had tried again and again to reach out. Fugaku had stopped her, afraid of council suspicion.
"You have failed as leader, as captain, and as a human being."
Fugaku's fingers twitched toward the Mangekyō and then froze. He was exactly what Mo Ke said he was: a man whose first thought at the brink was not courage but logistics. What if he lost. What if he won. What then of the clan.
Mo Ke turned back to the Hyuga. "Atsushi's life is spared. Pay a price. If the elder cannot see clearly, he need not see at all. Hiashi, place the Caged Bird upon him. If you refuse, I'll take his eyes myself. He is main family. Weigh it."
He clasped his hands behind his back and looked along the line. "So. Who supports. Who opposes."
At last Hiruzen stepped. "Your demands overreach. Naruto is of Konoha. We cannot entrust him to one whose intent we cannot read, nor allow you to live in our walls unchecked. We may be old, but not dead. If you insist, I, Sarutobi Hiruzen, will gamble my life. We break nets before we yield."
At his shoulder, Nara Shikaku rolled his eyes. Konoha's history had its compromises.
"Well said, Hiruzen," Danzō rasped, raising his head. "This one is too dangerous. Gather the village. We crush him here or Konoha falls."
Mo Ke tapped two fingers. Danzō's face hit ice with a crackle in his neck.
"I said you could speak. I did not say you could speak. Your thoughts and your meat are naked to my mind's eye. They disgust me. Try one more word and I pull your wraps myself."
Fugaku flicked him a side look. Red eyes, bandages, the earlier jab. His face went from green to iron black.
"Enough," Mo Ke said softly. "Do not posture, Hiruzen. Why is Konoha weak? The four of you rotted it. How did the White Fang die? Do not insult me with ignorance. Why did the Sannin leave? Were they born rebels or did they choke on your council.
"I could solve this by killing you four now and walking to any other village. Kumogakure values strength. I could be their king by dinner and bring an army back for breakfast."
He smiled without humor. "Or you let me take my son home. Do not test the patience of someone you cannot stop. Fish breaking the net, was it? With what."
"Shiki Fujin?" He tipped his chin. "Do you remember whose clan birthed that technique?"
Mo Ke snapped through the hand seals and summoned the horned reaper behind him. The god's jaws opened. Hiruzen's eyes lit with a gambler's wild hope.
Mo Ke lifted one hand and chanted.
"Stain that shows through a shimmering haze. Temper grown wild. Tide and denial and numbness and the instant that blocks sleep. Iron princess who crawls. Clay dolls that scar themselves. Join, rebound, extend to earth, and learn your limits."
"Hado Number Ninety. Kurohitsugi."
A monolith of night slammed down around the death god. A thousand blades lanced through the black. The box shattered like ash. The reaper's howl tore and shredded and died.
Just a stray ghost with a paper mask. I am the real thing. Be grateful I used the full chant.
Hiruzen stared at the drifting black like a man watching his own teeth crumble. The wordless shock on a legend's face rang louder than any boast.
Mo Ke flexed his right hand. It swelled, blood-red, into a demon's claw and came down lightly. Ten meters of tree and snow vanished into splinters and dust.
"Will you bet on Akimichi yang?"
A bead of sweat slid down Choza's temple.
"Shadow possession?" Mo Ke flicked a finger. "Bakudō Number Nine. Geki."
Red bands clamped Shikaku where he stood. He tried to tilt his head and could not. Sweat ticked off his brow. He rolled his eyes in a helpless arc to say, no chance.
"Yamanaka heart-walk?" Mo Ke turned to the golden-haired clan head. "Try it."
Before the man could shape the seal, Mo Ke bared the Nine Tails' ancient malice. The killing intent broke over the field like an ocean. Haiichi staggered, drool stringing from his lip. Somewhere in that black he felt a beast laugh and show fangs longer than the moon.
Shikaku's glance cut to Hiashi: Maybe it's the fox. Hiashi opened his Byakugan, peeked at Naruto's seal, and shook his head minutely.
Not the Nine Tails. Something else. Whatever it is, Haiichi cannot step into that mind without drowning.
Mo Ke spread his hands: you see. Your proud triad did not even twitch.
He was not done. A black blade bloomed in his grip. He lifted it, swung once into the air. Space itself warped in the wake. A stripe of forest twenty meters wide simply ceased to be, churned into confetti. Above the raw scar the sunlight bent into a shimmer of color.
He snapped fingers. The dust gusting toward Hinata veered and fell harmlessly. Hiashi's eyes flared. This Uzumaki… was he… being too gentle with his daughter?
"Hatake kenjutsu," Mo Ke murmured. "Not enough."
Kakashi's dead-fish eyes drained to salted gray. Say what you will, the man had been held together by a few brittle beams. White Fang. Naruto's bruises. This cut clean through them.
"And if not steel, then eyes?" Mo Ke glanced at Fugaku and then away. "Three tomoe illusions will not touch me. You would try Mangekyō? You won't."
His gaze slid to the young one. "You, though. You are different. Strongest here, perhaps. But I see your heart. You will not use that ability today. Not now that you have seen what your elders are."
Gasps rippled. Shisui's shoulders drew in. He had told no one. Yet in those red eyes he felt a mirror read him back word by word.
Inside Naruto's seal, Mo Ke pinged Kushina.
Kushinaaaaa, get out here.
What do you want, you noisy idiot. And stop calling me that. Try Lady Kushina. One more 'idiot' and I'll flatten you.
He grinned. Yes, Lady Kushina.
Say it again and I leave. What do you need. I'm still calming Naruto.
Shisui has a trick that rewrites minds. If he gambles on me, I want you watching my soul from your copy. If you feel a tug, cut the changed part clean off.
Mangekyō can do that? Creepy. Hah. Big talker on the outside, running to me on the inside.
Always have a safety line.
Your soul could at least wear pants.
It's a blue silhouette. What pants. You're Lady Kushina. Don't be shy.
She swore at him lovingly and stayed ready.
Mo Ke looked back to Hiruzen. "Well then, Hokage. Your fish seems small and my net very large. What is your answer. To live or not to live."
Silence. Hiashi opened his mouth to demand his turn and shut it again, seething. Everyone had been measured. The Ino–Shika–Cho. Kakashi. The Uchiha. And the Hyuga? Left out.
The First Clan of Konoha left standing like a spare. Daylight humiliation. Hizashi tugged his brother's sleeve a fraction and then glanced at Elder Atsushi collapsing face-first into the snow. Satisfaction warmed him like sake.
Hiruzen's face worked and worked and would not set. He could not accept under threat. But he could not pretend they had a hand.
Shikaku stepped in. "Wait. As a member of Konoha, I welcome you to our village. Your strength is… considerable. Please, in the village, show restraint. Should someone offend you, we ask your forbearance."
"Relax. Men do not quarrel with ants. In my eyes, you are not far from the civilians you stand over. And look. I have not actually harmed you."
It was an ugly line, and true enough. Shikaku exhaled. The only step left that kept the village's face intact was to give the Hokage a rung to climb down. In his head he ticked through the arithmetic of the Third Raikage in his prime: you do not gang up on a mountain.
The hardness around the field softened degree by degree. Once you accepted you could not refuse, it became unthreateningly practical. A strong man had chosen your side of the river. Strong men still needed meals and roofs and people who did the work of a village.
A few even thought, idly, that Hokage were replaceable. There had been three in a handful of years. The world had not stopped.
One by one, they offered welcome. Hiruzen did as much as duty demanded and nothing more, hoisted Danzō with one hand, and left without looking back.
Mo Ke was satisfied. He could have sent both to meet the First. Then there would be no path back. Do not underestimate shinobi. They smiled now because they could not read him. They would throw themselves on a blade tomorrow if they had to. He would pick his moment. Let Danzō's name curdle beyond saving. Take Root with both hands.
He glanced at Hiashi, and the clan head felt his skin pebble.
The field turned congenial quickly in that particular shinobi way. Hinata thought adults were impossible to understand. But Mo Ke would live in the same village as her. That was enough. The boy who had shielded her lay breathing steadily under the tree.
The young man who had toppled her father with a look had brushed dust away from her scarf and smiled like sunshine on fresh snow. Something new opened in her chest, half courage, half awe.
And somewhere deep in the seal inside another boy's belly, a mother wiped her eyes, a fox rolled his, and a red-eyed stranger who called himself father felt the world tilt a little more into the shape of his will.
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