Five years.
In the lifespan of a village, five years is usually a breath—a brief interlude between wars, a season of planting rice and training children. But in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, under the reign of the Fifth Hokage, five years was an epoch.
Konoha had not just rebuilt; it had evolved.
The wooden lattice of the old village, charming but flammable, had been reinforced. The new architecture was a hybrid of traditional fire-country aesthetics and the heavy, defensible stonemasonry of Iwagakure—a stylistic shift introduced by the Hokage himself. The streets were wider, paved with precise flagstones designed to channel rainwater and prevent flooding. The walls were higher, embedded with sensory conduction metals that hummed with a low-frequency chakra current.
It was no longer just the Village of Leaves. It was the Fortress of Will.
Ren Yamanaka stood at the window of the Hokage's office. He was twenty-nine years old. The boy who had once trembled at thunder was now a monster who commanded the lightning.
He wore the Hokage robes differently than his predecessors. The white haori was pristine, but beneath it, he wore a high-collared black tactical suit, not dissimilar to an Anbu uniform. His right eye remained covered by a leather patch, the stolen Byakugan resting beneath it, active and watching. His left eye, teal and piercing, reflected the sprawling metropolis he had curated.
Inside the Vault—the Memory Palace within his mind—the atmosphere was no longer chaotic. It was the hushed buzz of a war room.
Isamu (Surveillance): Sector 4 report. Market district traffic is up 12% from last quarter. No anomalies. Tactician (Logistics): Grain reserves are at 150% capacity. We can afford to sell surplus to the Land of Rivers to buy political leverage. Goro (Defense): The western wall reinforcement is complete. Even a Tailed Beast Ball would struggle to breach it now.
Ren processed the reports instantaneously. His mind, once a terrifying cacophony of ghosts, had become a supercomputer of stolen intellects.
"Peace is an industrial output," Ren murmured to himself. "It requires maintenance, lubrication, and parts."
A knock came at the door.
"Enter," Ren said. The word was not a permission; it was a command that pulled the door open via a microscopic thread of chakra.
Shikaku Nara entered, holding a stack of files. The Jonin Commander looked older, his lazy demeanor replaced by the sharp, anxious alertness of a man who worked for a machine.
"Lord Fifth," Shikaku said. "The Council is assembled. All ten members."
"Are the Uchiha representatives present?" Ren asked, turning from the window.
"Yes. Fugaku and Yashiro. They are… unhappy about the agenda."
"Happiness is not a metric I track, Shikaku," Ren said, walking past him. "Efficiency is."
—————
The Mental Fortitude Curriculum
Before the Council meeting, Ren made his daily detour to the Academy. This was the heart of his "Iron Reform."
He stood on the observation balcony overlooking the main training hall. Below, a class of twelve-year-olds was going through drills. But they weren't throwing kunai at targets. They weren't practicing substitution jutsu on logs.
They were sitting at desks in the middle of a simulated battlefield.
Explosions (genjutsu-induced audio-visuals) rocked the room. Screams echoed from hidden speakers—sounds of dying men, weeping mothers, breaking bones. The temperature in the room was fluctuated rapidly from freezing to sweltering.
The children were tasked with solving complex cryptographic puzzles while under this sensory assault.
"Focus!" the instructor barked. "Panic is death! If you cry, you die! If you freeze, your team dies!"
Ren watched closely. He zoomed in with his Byakugan.
He saw a young boy—Iruka—tearing up, his hands shaking. Iruka's parents had died in the Nine-Tails attack five years ago. The sounds were triggering his trauma.
Ren remembered Sora Inuzuka. He remembered her breakdown after losing her dog. He remembered how the village had simply patted her on the back and told her to have the Will of Fire, letting her drown in depression until she was combat-ineffective.
Inefficient, the Tactician noted. Wasted potential.
"Stop the simulation," Ren ordered. His voice was projected into the room.
The explosions ceased. The lights returned to normal. The children gasped, wiping sweat and tears.
Ren jumped down from the balcony, landing softly in the center of the room. The children scrambled to stand at attention. To them, the Fifth Hokage was a mythical figure—a terrifying, all-seeing god who protected them.
Ren walked over to Iruka. The boy was trembling.
"You are crying," Ren stated.
"I… I'm sorry, Lord Fifth!" Iruka stammered. "I couldn't… the noise…"
Ren knelt down. His single teal eye stared into Iruka's soul.
"Why do we train, Iruka?" Ren asked.
"To… to become strong ninja?"
"No," Ren said softly. "We train so that when the world screams at you, you do not scream back. We train so you can bury your heart in a box and keep your hands steady."
Ren placed a hand on Iruka's head. He didn't use a jutsu. He used a stolen skill—a calming technique from a generic Medical Ninja he had consumed years ago. He regulated the boy's chakra flow, forcing his heart rate down.
"Sora Inuzuka broke because she was not taught how to separate the mission from the pain," Ren told the class, though they didn't know who Sora was. "I will not let you break. I will build calluses on your minds before you ever see a battlefield."
He stood up. "Resume the simulation. Double the audio volume."
As the screams started again, Ren walked out. It was cruel. It was harsh.
But Sora Inuzuka, who now worked as the head of the new K-9 rehabilitation unit (a job Ren created for her), was alive. She was stable.
Kindness kills, Ren thought. Conditioning saves.
—————
The Council of Ten
The Governance Chamber was a circular room designed by Ren. The table was a ring of black obsidian. There were no heads of the table, implying equality, but everyone knew the gravity centered on Ren.
For decades, the Hokage advised with only two or three elders (Danzo, Koharu, Homura). Ren had abolished that system in his first month.
"The wisdom of three old people is stagnant," Ren had declared. "I need the wisdom of the active."
He expanded the board to Ten Jonin, forcing the clans to integrate into the daily running of the village.
Ren Yamanaka (Hokage)Shikaku Nara (Strategy/Commander)Inoichi Yamanaka (Intelligence/Interrogation)Choza Akimichi (Logistics/Supply)Fugaku Uchiha (Police/Internal Security)Yashiro Uchiha (Civilian Affairs/District Rep)Hiashi Hyuga (Border Patrol/Defense)Ko Hyuga (Guard/Rotation Security)Tsume Inuzuka (Tracking/Beasts)Shibi Aburame (Espionage/Special Ops)
They sat in silence as Ren entered. The tension was palpable. The Hyuga sat opposite the Uchiha. For generations, these two clans had engaged in a silent cold war of supremacy. Ren forced them to sit knee-to-knee.
"Report," Ren said, taking his seat.
"The new barrier teams are operational," Hiashi Hyuga said stiffly. He glanced at Fugaku. "However, integrating Uchiha personnel into the Border Patrol is… problematic. Their Sharingan consumes too much chakra for long-duration scouting. They are better suited for burst combat."
"The Uchiha are not 'problematic'," Yashiro Uchiha snapped. "We are adapting. But being assigned to patrol muddy ravines alongside dogs is insulting to our elite status."
"Elite status is a myth," Ren cut in. His voice was like a guillotine.
He looked at Yashiro.
"The Sharingan is a combat eye. The Byakugan is a scout eye. Combining them in the same squad covers the blind spots. An Uchiha sees the trap; a Hyuga sees the ambusher three miles away. Separation is inefficiency. Integration is mandatory."
"But the traditions…" Fugaku started, his voice deep and grumbling.
"I ate the corpse of a Mist tradition keeper once," Ren said. The room went dead silent. Ren threw casual references to his "habits" to keep them terrified. "His tradition was to kill his teammates. Traditions are only valuable if they ensure survival. Yours do not."
Ren slid a dossier across the table.
"Item Two: The Police Force Reform."
Fugaku opened the file. His eyes widened.
"You… you are cutting the budget? And introducing civilian oversight?"
"I am integrating Anbu squads into the Police Force precincts," Ren corrected. "And I am moving Uchiha officers into the Academy as instructors. The Police Force has become an island. Islands sink. You will be part of the mainland."
"This is an erosion of our authority!" Yashiro slammed his fist on the table. "The Police Force was given to the Uchiha by the Second Hokage! It is our right!"
Ren turned his head slowly toward Yashiro. Beneath the patch, the Byakugan twitched. Beneath the mask, the smile was nonexistent.
Ren dove into the Vault.
File Retrieval: Yashiro Uchiha.Source: Isamu (Spy Network).Data: Three months ago. Red Light District. Yashiro was heard drunkenly boasting about how the Uchiha could take the Hokage tower if they wanted to.
Ren spoke softly. "Yashiro. Last Tuesday. The Golden Geisha Tea House. You spent 4,000 ryo on sake. And you told the hostess that 'The One-Eyed Mongrel will trip over his own feet soon.' Do you remember that?"
Yashiro turned pale. The blood drained from his face so fast he looked like a corpse.
"I… I was drunk. It was… chatter."
"Chatter is intel," Ren said. "Intel suggests you are disloyal. Disloyalty is a cancer."
Ren leaned forward. "If you object to the reform, Yashiro, you may resign. I have a long list of young Uchiha—like Shisui and Itachi—who are eager to serve the village, not just the clan."
Yashiro slumped into his chair. "I withdraw my objection."
Fugaku looked at his subordinate, disgusted by the weakness but terrified of Ren's omniscience. How did he know? Ren wasn't there.
He is everywhere, Fugaku thought. The man is a ghost.
"Good," Ren said. "The reform passes. The Hyuga and Uchiha will begin mixed-squad drills tomorrow. If there is infighting, I will demote the clan heads responsible to Genin rank."
It was a bluff. Probably. But no one wanted to test it.
"Dismissed."
—————
The Old Warhawk and the Professor
Ren left the tower and moved to the Foundation.
In the old days, the Root base was a place of darkness and unauthorized murder. Now, it was sleek, lit by chakra lamps, and hummed with efficiency.
Ren had reorganized Root. It was no longer a personal army for Danzo; it was the village's "Black Ops" division, fully sanctioned but operating in the shadows.
He found Danzo watching a sparring match between two operatives.
Danzo looked older. His skin was parchment-thin. But he was alive.
"Lord Fifth," Danzo nodded, not bowing, but showing the deference of a wolf to the alpha.
"Danzo," Ren acknowledged. "The integration of the foreign assets?"
"Complete," Danzo said. He pointed to the sparring ring. "That boy on the left uses the Iwagakure 'Explosion Style'. We acquired the kekkei genkai from a corpse you provided last year. The girl uses Cloud-style Kenjutsu."
Ren watched. The boy triggered an explosion with his fist.
"Impressive," Ren said.
"It is," Danzo admitted. "You have done what I could not, Ren. You made the darkness… standardized. You removed the emotion from the method."
Danzo leaned on his cane.
"I hated you when you took the hat," Danzo whispered. "I thought you were an upstart. A thief."
"And now?"
"Now, I see the genius. You are not a leader, Ren. You are a system. And systems endure."
Ren looked at the old man.
"Keep them sharp, Danzo. I smell war on the wind. Kumo is rebuilding. Mist is undergoing a civil war. We need to be ready."
"We are always ready," Danzo smiled his grim smile.
…
Later, Ren visited the Sarutobi estate.
Hiruzen was sitting on his porch, painting a landscape of the village. He looked peaceful. He was smoking his pipe.
"Lord Third," Ren said, landing on the railing.
"Lord Fifth," Hiruzen smiled. "Or can I just call you Ren?"
"Ren is fine."
"You look tired," Hiruzen noted, dipping his brush in green paint. "The eyes of the village are heavy."
"They are necessary," Ren said. "Are you… content?"
Hiruzen looked at the painting. It showed the village rebuilt, the walls high, the smoke rising from chimneys. It was a picture of safety.
"You have made them safe, Ren. My era… we had heart, but we bled too much. You have stopped the bleeding."
Hiruzen looked at Ren.
"But a tourniquet, if left on too long, kills the limb. Don't forget to let the blood flow sometimes, Ren."
"If I let it flow," Ren said, "it spills."
Hiruzen sighed. He knew he couldn't change Ren. Ren was the product of their failures. A perfect, terrifying correction.
—————
The Internal Expansion
That night, Ren returned to his apartment. It was a penthouse in the Anbu tower now, heavily secured.
He locked the door. He activated the seals.
He sat in his meditation chair.
THE LIBRARY.
Ren appeared in his Memory Palace.
The Library had expanded. It was now a metropolis of shelves. The ceiling was a fresco of all the maps of the elemental nations stitched together.
He walked to the Council Table.
There were new faces.
Goro (Defense)Ryuichi (Offense)Isamu (Intel)Puppeteer (Control)Tactician (Logistics)The Seal Master (Fuinjutsu) - Acquired from the coup attempt. The Diplomat (Negotiation) - A Grass Ninja who could talk his way out of hell. The Medic (Anatomy) - A specialized surgeon from Suna.
"Chairman," the Diplomat greeted smoothly. "The blackmail on Yashiro was exquisite. But blunt. Next time, allow him a graceful exit so he owes you a favor."
"Fear is a faster currency," Ryuichi argued.
"We have new acquisitions," Ren announced.
He dumped a spectral sack on the table. Out rolled two glowing orbs.
"Two high-level Jonin from the Sound Village, intercepted by my personal squad yesterday. They were carrying Orochimaru's research notes."
The Medic picked up the orb. "Interesting. Genetic modifications. This will help us stabilize the rejection rate of the Sharingan."
"Process them," Ren ordered. "I want their skills cataloged by morning."
Ren walked to the edge of the library. He looked out into the void of his subconscious. It was dark, silent, and endless.
I am growing, Ren thought. I am 50 men now. 60.
Am I even human anymore?
Does a library count as a person?
He pushed the thought away. It was inefficient.
—————
The Shadow of the Uchiha
While Ren ruled the day, the shadows lengthened in the Uchiha District.
Kaito Uchiha sat in a secret meeting room beneath the Naka Shrine. He was five years older, harder. His eyes were permanently bloodshot.
Around him sat a dozen young Uchiha officers. Not the elders—they had been cowed by Ren. These were the angry youth.
"He knows our movements before we make them," one officer whispered. "Yashiro almost wet himself today."
"Because he is a thief!" Kaito slammed his hand on the tatami. "He steals our secrets. He steals our eyes. He uses the Hyuga against us. He uses our own ancestors against us!"
Kaito stood up, pacing.
"Ren Yamanaka is not a god. He is a parasite. He has built a tower of glass, and he thinks he's safe."
"But he is strong, Captain Kaito. He defeated the Kumo envoy with one hand. He held the Fox."
"He held the Fox because he stole the power to do it!" Kaito screamed. "Power that belongs to us!"
Kaito pulled a scroll from his vest.
"I have been researching. The technique he uses… the Corpse Eating… it has a flaw. It must. A mind cannot hold that many souls without cracking."
"We just have to find the crack," Kaito hissed. "And when we do… we pry it open."
He looked at the stone tablet of the Uchiha.
"The coup isn't dead," Kaito promised. "It's just waiting for the monster to blink."
—————
The Imposter
Ren stood on the roof of the Hokage Tower. The wind howled.
He looked at his hands.
Five years of peace. The Iron Reform.
The village was wealthy. The borders were secure. The children were tough.
But nobody smiled when he walked by. They bowed. They trembled. They respected. But they did not love.
Minato had been loved. Hiruzen had been loved.
Ren was feared.
"It is enough," Ren whispered.
Because he knew that a fortress without warmth is just a tomb for the living.
Ren adjusted his eyepatch.
"Let them fear," Ren decided. "Fear keeps them alive."
He turned back to his desk. The paperwork for the next five years was waiting.
End of Chapter 19.