Hiruzen slumped within his chair, taking a long drag of his pipe.
It was only the early morning, the sun only just starting to stretch it's reach into the new day, and yet he was already exhausted.
Focusing the chakra in his lungs he guided up the tobacco-laced smoke in his lungs and exhaled, the grayish white plume circling the crown of his head.
Twisting in his chair, Hiruzen glanced out at the exuberance of the sun and crystal clear skies mocking him with their irony from his office window.
Such beauty and tranquility while not three hours ago the Village had been in frantic turmoil.
Hiruzen allowed himself the wary sigh that left his lips.
To find out that such a rotten branch was allowed to infect the Village's fragile saplings was a devastating blow.
On paper Mizuki Mumei had been an average nothing special shinobi.
He was a civilian-born, orphaned like many others due to the ensuing Wars. When he turned six he had jumped at the opportunity to join the Academy, refusing to be acknowledged by one of the two surnames given to the many nameless orphans, acting as if he could cast away the stigma the surname wrought like a dirty rag he could simply throw away.
He had been pushed through an accelerated war-time program, only graduating early with the rest of Asuma's class out of the Village's sheer desperation to replenish their quickly depleting Corps as soon as possible.
Even as the only member of his squad to survive the Third War his skill set remained wholly unremarkable.
Though they knew now that the only reason Mizuki had survived while his teammates and Sensei had not, wasn't due to skill or luck, but rather because when his Team had been captured during a mission he'd callously traded his squad's lives for his own and willingingly became a plant for Iwa for allowing him walk away relatively unscathed.
From there Mizuki's skills in acting, deception, and manipulation only grew.
The only area he had truly excelled in.
And he certainly had taken advantage of it, testing and nurturing his talents in espionage on his fellow Konoha shinobi with grudging efficiency. Fooling his classmates and colleagues with his masks and carefully crafted personas.
But even with his carefully weaved deceptions, Mizuki's shinobi skills remained lackluster. His mission record, unimpressive.
Mizuki had only just managed to become chunin when he was unceremoniously 'recommended' over to the Academy as Iruka Umino's assistant teacher.
Mizuki had not been happy to be the assistant to a fellow chunin that was by all rights his junior, but he hid his disdain and loathing well behind false platitudes and insincere smiles.
Mizuki was self-servingly opportunistic, and most importantly, arrogant.
And it was ultimately said Achilles Heel that led to his downfall.
Mizuki had believed he was destined for more. He craved power, recognition, and thought he was being hindered from reaching his true potential by the Village.
The absolute gall and level of delusional superiority the man had to believe even for a moment that he would actually be able to escape with the Scroll of Seals and successfully fight off his Jonin and ANBU superiors wasn't even worth the energy expenditure of an eyeroll.
If Iruka hadn't been more concerned with keeping Naruto safe he could have easily taken care of Mizuki himself.
Regardless however, the entire incident did in fact make Hiruzen wonder just how many other spies may have infiltrated their midst with them casually unaware.
And that was a dangerous line of thinking to go down.
Being wary of every ninja. Every civilian. Every child.
But he supposed that is why he had the gray hairs.
It wouldn't do to interrogate every shinobi and citizen in the Village, subtly or otherwise, but he needed to be confident that there were no others reporting back to his former student...Or worse. An enemy from another nation.
Before his mind could further spiral down its descent into the darkened abyss, silently cursing his own complacency, Hiruzen sensed a familiar presence outside his office door.
He didn't even bother to acknowledge the courtesy knock. He knew who it was on the other side of the door, and said person knew that Hiruzen knew he was there.
Striding his way into the Hokage's office, Danzo's posture and overall stiff and determined demeanor screamed the man was there with purpose, and that he would not leave until said purpose was achieved.
Hiruzen glanced at his former squadmate with shadowed eyes from beneath his hat, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught that was about to ensure.
He had wondered when the former warhawk would come out of his little hidey-hole to give him an earful.
Though he was mildly surprised, the older man hadn't joined his former teammates' tirade against him when Mizuki had first been arrested.
Hiruzen was still nursing away the headache from Homura and Koharu critiquing his "disappointingly poor" handling of the entire situation. From how he sat back and watched how things would play out through his crystal ball to not "properly" handling Naruto's revelation of his status as a jinchuuriki by word of Mizuki's manipulative mouth.
"Hiruzen" Danzo greeted casually, no hint of reprimand in his tone, though Hiruzen knew better.
Danzo came here ready to fight.
Not with kunai and swords, but a weapon far more dangerous in the right hands.
Hands that Danzo had time and time again demonstrated that he possessed, and used without hesitance or compunction.
"I suppose you are here about Naruto?" Hiruzen hypothesized, cutting right into what he assumed was the heart of the matter.
"I'm here to give you a proposition" Danzo corrected, his tone nonchalant but firm.
Hiruzen raised a skeptical, yet curious eyebrow at Danzo's resolute expression, not fooled for a moment by the man's casual tone.
"I'm listening"
Hiruzen said nothing for the longest time, silently mulling over Danzo's carefully planned and eloquently worded speech with a fine-tooth comb, methodically picking it apart bit my bit for any traces of deception or well concealed secret agendas.
"Well?" Danzo impatiently pushed, eager to know the answer.
Hiruzen merely gave a long drawn-out sigh.
"Very well"