On a hill overlooking the Akatsuki base, two figures watched in silence.
One wore a white spiral mask.
The other was split black and white, half his body sinking into the earth.
They followed Kanzō with their eyes as he left the base and disappeared into the rain-soaked darkness.
"Based on intelligence gathered by White Zetsu," Black Zetsu said calmly, "Hanzo and Shimura Danzō appear to have reached some sort of agreement targeting the Akatsuki."
"That man, Kanzō—he's here to lure Nagato and the others into a trap."
He laid out the information and his deductions with clinical precision.
"Danzō…" Obito murmured under his mask, disdain thick in his voice. "That old vulture really does love stirring up trouble."
Back when he had still been Uchiha Obito of Konoha, he barely knew the name Shimura Danzō.
But after his "death," once he began walking the underbelly of the shinobi world, that name had become impossible to ignore.
Framing others. Manipulating public opinion. Inciting wars. Orchestrating assassinations.
There was no dirty job Danzō wouldn't do.
Compared to him, Obito sometimes felt downright innocent—like an untouched white flower.
(At this point in time, he hadn't yet committed the atrocities history would remember him for.)
"Still…" Obito said slowly, "this time he may have done us a favor."
When Hanzo had first summoned Yahiko's trio, Obito had hoped Hanzo would discover Nagato's Rinnegan and strike first—push Nagato toward despair.
But Hanzo hadn't noticed.
Instead of bloodshed, there had been conversation. Cooperation.
Obito had even felt a flicker of disappointment.
He'd already begun to lower his expectations—
And then Danzō appeared.
A twist of fate.
Opportunity.
"Have White Zetsu keep close watch," Obito ordered. "If necessary, we'll give them a little push at the right moment."
"Understood."
Black Zetsu nodded—but then hesitated.
Obito caught the pause.
"What is it?"
Black Zetsu frowned slightly.
"I don't know why… but something feels off."
He hadn't discovered anything concrete.
Just an instinct.
A faint unease whispering that events might not be as straightforward as they seemed.
"Off?" Obito asked.
"Yes. Just… a feeling."
Obito glanced at the pitch-black half of him with visible skepticism.
Was he spending too much time with White Zetsu and picking up bad habits?
"What was that look?" Black Zetsu snapped, offended.
"Nothing," Obito said lightly, waving it off. "Don't overthink it."
"This wasn't essential to begin with. If it fails, it fails."
"We'll just wait for the next chance."
Black Zetsu fell silent.
After all, Nagato was merely a tool.
Obito's interest in pushing him into darkness was almost… personal.
Whether this particular attempt succeeded or not, it wouldn't derail the greater plan.
Several Hours Later
Somewhere within the borders of the Land of Rain.
Deep inside a cavern, Shimura Danzō sat cross-legged with eyes closed.
Around him, Root operatives rested in disciplined silence.
Then—
Footsteps.
Rapid.
Echoing against stone.
Every shinobi in the cave opened their eyes instantly—but none moved.
The sentries outside hadn't raised an alarm.
The approaching figure deliberately made noise.
It could only be one of their own.
"Danzō-sama."
A masked Root operative knelt before him.
"Report."
"Hanzo has shown no abnormalities. He has summoned the Akatsuki leaders—and just now, his men abducted the woman from their trio."
A sharp glint flashed in Danzō's lone visible eye.
"Any unusual movements within Amegakure?"
"None. All Rain shinobi remain under surveillance. No irregular mobilization."
"Good."
Danzō exhaled slowly.
Hanzo had taken the bait.
Nagato's Rinnegan would be his.
And perhaps… more.
If Hanzo were to die unexpectedly—
Amegakure, leaderless, would crumble in an instant.
With precise execution, he could seize the Land of Rain and reap immense gains.
Danzō closed his eyes again, calculating.
吞雨攻土…
Bind Wind. Suppress Cloud.
Unify the Five Nations.
Rule the shinobi world.
"Danzō… I am the Hokage."
The phantom voice of Sarutobi Hiruzen echoed in his mind like a curse.
His eyes snapped open, fury blazing.
His grand design was halted before it even began.
Even if he seized the Land of Rain now, he could not hold it.
The other nations would unite against him.
And worse—
Konoha would not support him.
Hiruzen had grown soft. Obsessed with balance. With compromise.
He would never endorse such decisive expansion.
"Damn it…"
The word slipped through clenched teeth.
Konoha had emerged from this war victorious—yet gained nothing.
On this battlefield, they were the strongest force—yet acted timidly, without the bearing of the world's foremost shinobi village.
If he were Hokage—
Konoha would never look like this.
If he were Hokage—
The shinobi world might already be united.
But he was not Hokage.
Not yet.
His resentment hardened into resolve.
He still had a chance.
Hiruzen would bear responsibility for the losses of this war. He would step down.
Orochimaru held secrets Danzō could exploit.
Namikaze Minato—brilliant, but politically naïve.
If Hiruzen's influence fractured, an opening would appear.
As long as the war continued…
As long as he could elevate his own name through decisive action…
With his seniority, he could contend.
Yes.
His trip to the Land of Rain wasn't solely for Konoha's interests.
It was for himself.
Originally, with Hiruzen's support and Orochimaru's qualifications, the position of Fourth Hokage had seemed secured.
But recently, Danzō noticed a shift.
Hiruzen had begun favoring Namikaze Minato.
That change revealed something crucial—
Division.
Where unity once stood, opportunity now emerged.
"Danzō-sama. It's time."
A Root shinobi's voice broke his thoughts.
Danzō looked up.
A thin beam of sunlight pierced through the clouds and into the cave's entrance.
He rose slowly.
"Very well."
He stepped forward toward the light.
"It is time… for me to stand beneath the sun."
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