Chapter Forty-Three: The Hearing
Canon-Manga Info: The canon information concerning Shikamaru's claims about Sasuke's brilliance has been mentioned before.
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The Council Hall was empty save one attendant who marched back and forth with a big stack of scroll and scroll-papers in her arms. The soles of her sandals were thick and created earsplitting, echoing sounds as she clumsily toddled back and forth between various desks. The wooden floor was over-polished and squeaky clean. Sasuke's bored eyes followed her movements from left to right and then back again.
Her sandals were slipping on the floor, and it was only a matter of time before she tripped; and it happened just as he had predicted: she spun around too quickly, her leg flying up, and she landed very hard on her rump. The scrolls flew out of her hands, and all the papers slowly floated down about her. Her thick glasses were left askew on her pink face. An embarrassed smile formed on her lips, and it widened comically till the tips of her teeth peeked out. She muttered something and hurriedly began to pick up the pages.
Sasuke dragged his eyes away and pressed the crook of his knuckle to his lips to hold in the laughter. He sat on a large waiting bench by the thick double-door on his right. The door had an intricate leaf pattern carved into its smooth surface; it gave off a very faint odour of damp rot that choked him when the breeze moved it. The thing was probably as much of a relic as the Council members were.
Lazily, he moved his gaze to the window. It was left half-open to let in fresh morning air. Sun was still climbing up the eastern slope of clear sky. It was only six a.m. in the morning, and the offices were empty. He wiggled his ears, hoping to catch a faint sound from beyond the door. It was no use. He could hear nothing from inside the large hall. He imagined they had placed some sort of sound-repelling seals upon the walls and doors to make it sound-proof . . .
Sasuke sighed and leant back against the wall. Itachi had told him to wait obediently in the waiting area. He had a small Anbu matter to attend, so he waited silently and obediently like his older sibling had told him to. He now settled his eyes upon Yuu's impatient hands; he was rubbing them together and looking quite nervous.
Yuu stood with his back to the wall, eyes on the floor, glancing slightly to the left and slightly to the right. His eyes were wide, and there was sweat on his young face. He looked more worried than Sasuke about the hearing. At that moment, measured steps sounded on the floor and his brother came into view, with Kai and Serizawa right behind him.
Yuu's eyes bulged out, and he quickly stood as straight as an arrow, every muscle tensed, and he bowed his head to fumble out a shaky morning greeting. Itachi did not entertain it. Sasuke slowly got to his feet and turned his head away. He did not want to see his brother. That anger was still there, and his body burnt with a barely controlled fury.
Itachi stopped and turned his eyes to Yuu. "You may leave and manage Sasuke's Squad," Itachi spoke, his eyes moving towards Sasuke's countenance, and watched, with slight amusement, the changing expression upon his face and a frown developing upon his brow.
Yuu bowed again and asked, "when will his hearing be over, Itachi-Sama? He has to manage Team Tests today." Then he began rubbing his hands together again, letting them apart and bringing them together like some kind of ritual.
Itachi looked at his hands for a moment and then brought his gaze back to his face again. "He will not find the time for duty today. He has to return home after this to welcome a guest," he spoke, and Sasuke's lips compressed in a tight expression, his eyes narrow, but he did not say a word.
Yuu gave a quick bow and left, his steps deadened by the progressive increase in distance till Sasuke could hear him no more. He turned his eyes and watched the cool look on Kai's face and the warm smile upon Serizawa's; his smile widened when Sasuke's eyes met his, but he quickly directed his eyes to the floor in a stubborn attempt to evade his brother's gaze. He knew who was coming, and he knew Itachi had done it on purpose to teach him another lesson in obedience. At this moment, his resentment grew stronger.
He felt his brother's hand on his shoulder and heard and felt the brushing of his hand against the Jōnin jacket. He was trying to wipe away a speck of dirt. "I have faith in you that you will not say anything I did not ask of you to memorise last night," he spoke, voice smooth, and a sudden ripple of anger crossed Sasuke's face, but he stayed quiet.
"Do not speak unless you are not spoken to," he spoke, adjusting the zip of Sasuke's flak jacket as if he was a wee boy who did not know how to dress for the Genin Academy, "and do not speak anything beyond what is necessary. As long as you stay silent and obey my instructions, you will be out of here in a matter of minutes."
Sasuke raised his eyes a bit to look at a smile hovering over Itachi's lips like a sinister specter. He grabbed the back of Sasuke's neck and squeezed. "Do you understand?" he asked and raised his finger when Sasuke parted his lips to retort. "I want none of your lip today—none of your wild nature and your child's play. Discard them outside this door when you step inside the hall."
The smile softened—playful, impish upon his brother's face. He loved to wear it often these days. Sasuke knew this was another one of his pretend-plays. The man was a mystery to him. He was brought up by him. He grew up playing on his lap and sleeping in the same futon with him when he was but a boy, yet he could never say for certain that he knew him truly.
Itachi still loved to make the origami cranes for him; he did that often when he was young, too. It used to fascinate Sasuke how quickly he would fold the paper and create a perfect crane in a matter of seconds. It was a childhood pleasure that had lost a bit of its attraction and charm. Over the years, most things did; the look of anger faded a little from his face, and he lowered his head—lost in thoughts.
"You are good boy—you are such a good boy. I know you will not disappoint me," Itachi spoke in a voice that sounded almost sincere and brushed his fingers across Sasuke's forehead. Then he pulled his hand back, moved away, and opened the thick door. Then Voices came to him, loud voices, but the door was quickly shut behind Itachi.
"Don't test my patience, old fool!" Tsunade snarled loudly at Danzō, slapping her hand down on the large table that glasses and brush- and pen-holders danced. Her brown eyes flashed to Itachi, and she fell silent.
Itachi moved his eyes around the room slowly, taking in every detail: it was a large, but sparsely furnished, room; lanterns sat on the long and large table set before seven big chairs; Tsunade sat on the largest one right in the middle; Shimura Danzō, Mitokado Homura, and Utatane Koharu sat on her right whilst Nara Shikaku and Hyūga Hiashi sat on her left; there was one empty chair, and it was reserved for him.
"Ah, Itachi, we thought you had lost your way here," Shikaku spoke from across the large room, a broad smile on his mildly scarred face. His voice seemed to almost echo in the dim hall.
Itachi slowly climbed the small set of stairs that led to the hefty chair placed next to Tsunade's. "I had a matter to attend," he spoke and sat down on the chair, his eyes upon the empty chair on the floor in front of them. It was placed right under a lantern hanging down from the high roof. It glowed eerily, but the space around it was cast in shadows. Today, there were no shackles attached to it. He raised his eyes a little to look at the roof. It was dark there, and he could see nothing without his Sharingan.
"I was called upon this morning to handle that Mist matter," he spoke, twisting his beard. "Who is the shinobi that has to appear before us?"
"Uchiha Sasuke," Itachi spoke expressionlessly, without turning his face to look back at him, and the smile flew from Shikaku's lips at the expression of such dutiful detachment upon Itachi's face.
Shikaku gave a sidelong glance to the empty chair and pulled in a breath deeply, his eyes appraising the wooden object as though it was already occupied by Sasuke. Curiosity, and a bit of sorrow, came to his eyes. He was a middle-aged man who had seen it all: the ugliness and carnage of wars and the cunning of Shinobis who thronged the military ranks, eager to please their Lords. It was always some unlucky bastard that got caught in the whispers and murmurs of treachery. The council was always swift to do away with the lot of them.
They were swift, emotionless, and cruel—too cruel—but Sasuke . . . ? It did not seem right. When Shikaku was young, he did not understand how anything mattered beyond the Will of Fire. It was absolute to a Shinobi: Leaf's will was his will. Leaf rustled in uncertain winds and he, too, felt the tremors of unrest and betrayals. He set himself to seek the truth, but it was always shrouded in the changing, shifting darkness. He could not say he had a single memory that comforted him that justice was served. It made waves of guilt and shame move through him, affect his heart in ways that he felt . . . sorrow over what he had done over the years.
How culpable was he in Leaf's schemes? He really could not say anything for sure. He pulled in another great breath and took a moment to regroup his scattered senses and fixed his eyes upon Itachi's face: he was young, too young, to be a part of the Elders' Council, he imagined; his cheeks were still so soft, and there was not a line, not a groove in his youthful face; he still had the blush of youth and a blaze of wild virility in his eyes. He was . . . too young—young enough to not wear any premature signs of age upon his face and body. It would take them many, many long years to wither away under Nature's kisses. It was his time to taste the lush fruits and relish the pleasures of youth. Young, so young, to be tainted by Leaf's darker half, but she had bitten Itachi when he was still blooming into a man, and her corruption had gone deep into his heart and spirit . . . there was no saving him now . . .
Itachi now occupied Minato's chair. The shame had taken that authority, that chair from him. It was lamentable, but it was not as though Shikaku could have changed the council's mind. They were hell-bent on making Minato suffer over that incident. Shikaku's vote amounted to nothing. It was four against two. Minato was voted off the Council's seat, disgraced, and his tale was over in these halls.
Shikaku closed his eyes, breathed in the faint odour of fresh wood mixed with a fragrance of polish the new table and chairs exuded. They were new amongst the old folk in this room. Old, save for Itachi.
"I remember Sasuke," Shikaku began, and his voice unnaturally swelled in the room again, "such a brilliant boy. My son always spoke highly of him. I am sure it is some misunderstanding." He cupped his chin and played with his beard again. He had never grown a mustache. His wife found this look lovely on him. He was not a sentimental man, but he liked to do little things for his better half.
"We need to speak to the boy first," Kohura spoke in a shrill, grave voice. "No need to give him special treatment for his brother sits amongst us." She raised her nose in the air, those beady little eyes half-open that the onlookers would not have been able to tell whether she was asleep or awake.
Shikaku stole a quick glance at Itachi again. He was silent, his eyes still thoughtfully fixed upon the chair. The young man was apt at hiding his emotions. If he felt anything for his brother's dire situation, he did not let it become apparent on his face. He smiled. Itachi had earned his seat well: though Itachi's delicate appearance did not give a truer impression of his demeanour, he was well-liked amongst the Fire's military councilmen for being a hardliner and a nigh fanatical supporter of Leaf's dogma, a shrewd, hardheaded, uncompromising man in Leaf's matters. Shikaku's smile fluttered again. It would be an interesting trial.
"Do not be so uncompromising when the hearing has yet to begin, Koharu," Tsunade spoke harshly. Her cheeks were beginning to redden all over again in fury.
"Tsunade-Hime, you are still a new Hokage," Homura spoke and narrowed his eyes behind the glasses against the lantern's sharp light. "Such matters are not re-solved with sentimentality. Also, we believe—"
"Bring the boy in," Tsunade cut him off loudly without looking at him. Homura pressed his lips together, his mouth a thin trembling line. He looked offended, though he had no warm blood in his veins to make his cheeks blush with the embarrassment he felt; he was a very old man now.
The only guard standing next to the door opened it and gestured Sasuke to come in. It had been years since Shikaku last saw Sasuke, and as the light flooded upon him, he saw him clearly now: he had grown up into a tall and very handsome young man. Shikaku moved his eyes from Itachi's face to Sasuke's, and he could not help himself from thinking that they looked quite alike. There were small errors on Sasuke's face that made him look different from his older brother—mistakes made by Nature's able hands, silly mistakes. Nature, too, stumbled sometimes.
Sasuke quietly sat down, widened his thighs, and rested his arms on the broad armrests (a very relaxed posture, ill-suited for the hearing, yet his fearless nature made Shikaku smile). He raised his head and looked boldly back at the council. Shikaku found his demeanour almost thrilling to watch. Light dimmed above his head, and the room fell silent. Tsunade began writing on a scroll. The sounds magnified. Even a single draw of breath rang loudly in the room.
She puffed out a loud sigh and knotted her young fingers together. (Her Jutsu always kept her young and beautiful.) She narrowed her eyes upon Sasuke, and he looked back into her eyes, without an ounce of fear and shame. "Uchiha Sasuke, you know why you are here?" she asked, slightly bending her head forward as if she could not see him clearly.
"Yes," he replied in a flat tone of voice, but the emptiness in the room did not let him hide that thread of audacity. The light from the lantern made the clever glint in his eyes more obvious. Shikaku observed him with a peculiar countenance; the young man was not yet honed by age the way it had honed his older brother. Time had crafted a sinister shinobi out from the older one—a singular killer. That hard touch of Time and killings had robbed that one of the innocent softness Sasuke's face had yet to relinquish: he was like a babe in comparison. The more Shikaku looked at him, the more he looked like a sweet little boy who would be incapable of misdeeds; though his body was lusty and lithe, like that of a young Shinobi's his age, his arrogance was a foreign malady upon his countenance, which was sweeter than the sweetest fruit in Spring. Strange little boy . . .
Two brothers set apart by Time, duty, belief . . . it was interesting to watch another one of these political charades in the ominous walls. They were not hallowed, and, bathed as they were with invisible streaks throughout the ages, he thought them to be almost evil. Many left this hall to their deaths. To call this boy for a hearing over something so trivial—what was Danzō thinking?
Shikaku's eyebrows rose when Tsunade snapped at Koharu again, telling her to let her speak. He admired her will to limit the hold of these people. Only the Sage knew how terrible their natures were. They were militant by nature. He never admired their single-minded pursuit to limit democracy in Leaf. They needed to be dealt with. Perhaps Tsunade would be the leader to change the political climate in Konoha. Minato tried, but he was ousted too soon from power—another game Danzō played and won . . .
"Why did you accept an S-Rank mission from the Kage of another village?" she asked, but her voice bounced off the walls like a beast's voice that was shrill. Her face was pink, mouth hard, face set in cold determination. She was not going to let them win today, and it pleased Shikaku.
"It wasn't an S-Rank mission when I took it," Sasuke said and kept his eyes on her. He did not let his gaze waver and find his brother's eyes. There was no need for it.
"It was not? Whatever do you mean, young man?" Shikaku asked and watched as his lips twisted into a provocative smile. The boy was quite clever, yet still pure and innocent. No matter how hard he tried, he could not hide away the suggestion of child-like unease in his smile. The briefest glimmer of something sinister in Sasuke's eyes caught Shikaku's gaze, but, like his face, he did not need to plumb their depths: Sasuke did not have the years nor the sins for them.
"Yes," he answered and turned his eyes to Shikaku. "When the mission came to me through the usual channels, it was a B-Rank mission. I asked for the Anbu Commander's approval. He authorised it. That's all."
"That is quite peculiar," Shikaku spoke, heaving a sigh. "A B-Rank mission turned out to be an S-Rank one? It seems to me that Mist is playing political games to create troubles again. They like to clean up their messes through other villages. Nothing unheard of."
"Ending the hearing so soon?" Homura asked and leant back into his chair, his eyes roaming on Sasuke's cold face. His face managed to imitate that expression effortlessly. "Do not be so lenient, Shikaku."
"Well, I do not see any reason why this boy would take—"
"To conspire against Leaf. Why else would he do this?" Danzō's sinister voice shot anger through Sasuke like a stab of blade, but he forced it down and looked at him straight in the eye; his Sharingan was not clever to hide away his fury. It peeked through his eyes—windows of spirit. A gasp rose from Shikaku and Hiashi. They were shocked at his accusation.
"Ah, to be so audacious as to flash your Sharingan at the council member? How shameful, young Uchiha!" Koharu spoke in voice that wavered as if that red filled her with indignation. Her jowls quivered with the slightest of movements. She was a frail-looking old woman. Sasuke looked back into her eyes calmly. The fires on his face were not snuffed out.
She knotted her shivering fingers into a mighty fist as though she meant to strike him down for his insolence; but, before she could speak out again, Itachi intervened: "he is young. He does not yet know how to conceal his anxiety."
"Perhaps you should discipline him, Itachi," she spoke; her voice had not yet lost that undercurrent of readymade authority. "This show of boldness is unacceptable when he is charged with a grave crime."
"Then grant him the punishment that befits his crime as you seem to have proven his guilt," Itachi spoke, his voice hitting Sasuke hard from all sides. "Perhaps pluck his eyes out in the process as a little glow of Sharingan in a mere boy's eyes is enough to topple the establishment."
Koharu fell silent with an angry breath when a laugh from Shikaku rippled from one end of the room to another. Even Tsunade created a smile on her red face. "You are hasty to sentence him, Koharu. Why does this boy terrify you?" he asked, unable to resist the unintentional creep of a shaky laughter into his voice that still rattled in his throat. His eyes were on Itachi's ice-cold face, and his flawless indifference and dry humor amused him to no end. The young prodigy was an apt foe in a clash between swords and tongues.
"Shielding your brother against suspicions of treason?" Danzō asked, his voice chilling the air about them like winter. "I am a little disappointed in you. Had it been someone else's boy, you would have been swift to end that threat. Yet you allow this seed to germinate. Why?" His eyes had not left Sasuke's, who stared back at him with the same intensity.
His words made Itachi's forefinger tremble a little on the large armrest, but in the shadows, no one saw that tiny moment of weakness. "Are you accusing me of conspiring against Leaf? After all, it was I who authorised the mission," Itachi spoke and kept his eyes on the lantern hanging above Sasuke's head. A pink moth had chosen to steal itself to the inside of the lantern. Its right wing had already caught fire. Now, it was a futile struggle to save its life: Death was inevitable!
"Your brother took the task upon himself that got the prisoner killed in your care. Why do you turn your eyes from this truth?" Danzō asked again, his words full of grave accusations that drew gasps from Tsunade and Shikaku. Hiashi, however, was still quiet; he was staring at Sasuke and the anger that burnt in his eyes like the first signs of a furious wildfire. Why did he have such contempt for a Council member?
"What are you insinuating?" Tsunade straightened in her chair, her pretty cheeks burning hotly with fury.
"You very well know, Hime. This boy—"
"I know you are his immutable mouthpiece, but he is not a frail old man he pretends to be. Let him speak, Homura. Away with you, if you so much as attempt to interrupt me again," she spoke in the harshest tone. Her sharp eyes sparked anger, and he shivered under her uncompromising gaze.
"Always quarreling, Hime," Danzō spoke, his right eye moving under the tight bandages. "This matter is a little delicate to let this wayward child go. Fū was murdered under questionable circumstances. That makes two murders—one after another. He could very well be—"
"What is this?" Hiashi finally spoke from the shadows in a quiet, thoughtful voice. "We were called here for that Mist business only. Do not waste my time by piling up baseless accusations to prolong this, Danzō." He hid his stern face well in the room's darkness.
Finally, Itachi turned his head to look back at Danzō. It was a silent call for a challenge, his eyes flashing danger on his white face that never let emotions play with it in subtle ways. He had trained it well. "I hope you have a good reason to blindside us all with this accusation," Itachi spoke, and his heavy gaze settled upon Danzō's old face that was left so pitifully weary by Nature's touch that was without its springtime seductions.
Danzō adjusted his crippled arm with the good hand and looked down at Sasuke again. Joy and awe went through his soul when he saw the flickering petal-like pattern in his young eyes. It vanished just as quickly. He felt that the boy's eyes were teasing him, tempting him, tormenting him—the allure to possess such power was making him impatient!
"Fū was killed in the forest by a Kenjutsu master when I had sent him out to investigate Mist's activities. The prisoner was brutally murdered when he could have aided us in laying bare the facts concerning the mission this boy took. This cannot be a coincidence," he spoke, just keeping his voice steady, his fingers trembling around the tip of his walking stick. Sasuke's chakra was deliciously exquisite. His eyes . . . there was such power in his eyes that it was enough to make an old man slip into a drunken stupor after a mere glimpse of their splendor.
Tsunade gave a brusque laugh that shook her breast. "To connect something so unrelated to this matter? You know how to spin your yarns," she spoke, a vicious glare in her eyes. Her red lips quivered, barely holding back the venomous words desperately clinging to her tongue, waiting to tumble out from her mouth. "I did not want that dreg of Mist to stay here, but Itachi needed to interrogate him. The cursed seal on him had already left him half-dead. I examined it myself. You say that this boy killed a man who Itachi caught by coincidence in the forest? A man who was so delirious that he would have thought of you as a beautiful woman had he laid his eyes on you? You have grown senile."
"I support Tsunade-Sama's statement," Shikaku spoke sternly, his fingers still twisting that sharp goatee. "What motive could this boy have to kill an underling when he was not even the one who caught him? The prisoner never saw him in the forest. It is a far-fetched idea which you are suggesting. It baffles me that you are even forwarding this agenda in the council hall of all the places. It seems to me that you have a deep-seated grudge against the boy."
Danzō spoke no more. Silence fell, and Tsunade grabbed the wooden pen again to scribble down more lines. The scraping sounds echoed in their ears. Then she put the pen back into the ink bottle and returned her gaze to Sasuke's face. He still looked calm: Sharingan had vanished from his eyes, a good trickster.
"The authorisation came from Itachi—is that correct? What happened afterwards?" she asked and grabbed the sake cup from the table to take a sip. It was the mildest one they could find for today's task. She did not like the taste on her tongue, sharp and tangy it was, but it was good enough for today.
"Yes, the Captain authorised it. I requested of him to assist me in training a new recruit, Hyūga Hinata," he said, not moving his gaze to see Hiashi's reaction. "She was sent along with the Captain's team. She was to stay behind him and observe, and engage if he commanded. The matter escalated quickly. The Mizukage had sent in two of her guards as a Support-Squad. The Captain and I were ambushed by a militia. We dispatched as many as we could. I have no idea of their numbers or how many slipped away."
"Dear Sage, you sent in Hiashi's untrained, timid daughter on such a dangerous mission?" Koharu asked, feigning surprise. She wanted a reaction out of Hiashi, but he was silent.
"Did you not hear that it was a B-Rank mission?" Tsunade spoke and moved the pen quickly and harshly on the scroll. "If you cannot keep a memory, then perhaps, you are too old for these meetings."
"B- and C-Rank missions are quite common for trainee Shinobis. She was also accompanied by the Anbu Commander, two highly capable Jōnins, and one Chūnin. I believe we can venture a guess that she was in safe hands," Shikaku added in a heavier tone this time. That smile was still on his lips—he found the Elders' attempts to prolong this amusing. He wanted to see why they were so desperate to corner the boy. If it had something to do with the massacre, then he would make sure that it would not happen again.
He always found Fugaku to be an honest, good man. What happened to him was unfortunate. Back then, he voted in his favour, but the entire council was against the man. It was as though they wanted a scapegoat for the masses. He found the evidence too perfect. It did not seem right to do away with him so quickly, but it happened. The carnage. The bloodshed. Many children were orphaned that day—many, struck down, too. The matter was buried under many lies. Perhaps Karma came back to haunt Minato and his reign, bite his flesh away, strip by strip. He could never forget that night . . .
"Why continue this, Hime, since you have already decided?" Koharu spoke irritably, with a small movement of her quivering hand. The permanent grooves in her face had been deepened by resentment.
"I have," Tsunade spoke with a bold, mocking smile bending her luscious lips. "You old folks have presented nothing to hold him. All of this is baseless and absurd. The fact that you are accusing Itachi of aiding Mist filth is unthinkable. I will not stand for something so ridiculous."
"You, boy," Danzō spoke, drawing Sasuke's eyes to his aged face that worked in indescribable ways to show emotions. "How truthful have you been, hiding behind your older brother's back?"
"I do not have time for this pettiness," Hiashi spoke and rose to his feet. He cast a quick glance at Sasuke and then turned his eyes to look at Tsunade. She appeared a little surprised by his reaction. "I do not know this boy enough to cast a vote in his favour, but I cannot cast a vote against him, either. This discussion was fruitless—a charade. I have grown weary of them. I am neutral on this matter. You can do as you please with him. Now, if you pardon me, Hime, I have important Clan matters to attend rather than indulge Danzō in another one of his . . . games." He cast an angry eye at Danzō and left the hall in silence. The sounds of his steps died away beyond the thick door.
Tsunade breathed in deeply. "Cast your vote," she spoke and swiftly took the pen out of the ink bottle again. "Those who vote in favour of Uchiha Sasuke leaving this hall and ending his connection with the prisoner and clearing him of all charges, say, 'aye'."
"Aye," Shikaku spoke, flicking Sasuke a mischievous glance. The boy was still quiet and calm, though Shikaku admired the sharp glint in his wild eyes. The excitement had made the Tomoes reveal themselves again. He was a bold one, indeed!
"Aye," Itachi spoke and kept his gaze steady as he looked at the moth burning and writhing in the lantern. It had struggled well to prolong its life. How futile was that struggle? He found it amusing!
"Aye," Tsunade spoke with relish and scribbled the results on the scroll. A Hokage's vote was equal to three councilpersons. It was a game Danzō was set to lose from the beginning.
"You are hasty, Hime," Danzō's thin, meaningful voice spoke again. "This matter is not as simple as you believe it to be. This boy is connected to Fū's murder. I can feel it in his revenge-soaked eyes. The council did terrible things to his Clan. It would seem only fair to him to pay us back. He bore witness to—"
"That is enough," Itachi cut across him in a voice so unfriendly that a shiver of fear ran down Danzō's aged back, his Mangekyō Sharingan glaring at him in a threatening manner. "You wear your motley well, but I am amused no longer. I fulfilled your desire to see this through in a just manner, yet still you persist?"
Danzō met his eyes head on, but he felt that he was not up to the task to challenge him. "This boy is your mistake. You could have ended his life in the past. He will just seek out revenge. I wonder if these murders are the first steps of his journey. No need be a deliberate fool, Itachi," he spoke, holding his gaze boldly.
Itachi turned his eyes slightly to his brother and found confusion on Sasuke's face—as though he was thinking over what Danzō was suggesting and had a question dangling from his tongue.
"Leave, Uchiha Sasuke," Itachi commanded heavily and watched his brother reluctantly leave the hall. He returned his eyes back to Danzō as the sliver of bright sunlight disappeared when the door was shut. "Amongst the roots, a snake hides away for an easy prey, but it always dies there. The roots may trap withered cherry blossoms to lure in small beasts, but it would not delay the inevitable."
Danzō's face showed slight shock. The close-mouthed smile on Itachi's face was meaningful. The young man turned his face away, giving one last glance to the moth: it had burnt away in the lantern and only its blackened body lay close to the flame now. Then he rose to his feet and left the hall in silence.
"I believe we should leave, as well, Tsunade-Sama. We still have that Sand matter to manage," Shikaku spoke and Tsunade nodded in response. She rolled up the scroll and walked out of the hall with him.
The hall was suddenly enveloped in a menacing silence. It was heavy and dreary. They all sat there without speaking, looking old and decrepit in the tall light from the lanterns. "Why does the boy matter so much to you?" Koharu asked and adjusted her shawl. The ornaments hanging from the pin in her bun clinked loudly in silence.
Danzō remained silent . . .
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The rain was soft but thunder was loud—a beast from sky. Sun was still climbing. A bright light had broken out, a big tear in a cloth on the horizon. Everything was grey and wet around him. He made to take out his sword, but the man that appeared from beyond the trees was whom he was expecting to see.
"Why have you called me here, Chōjūrō? Now is not the time for these games," Toruné spoke through chattering teeth. Autumn always made him miserable . . .
Chōjūrō reached into the fanny-pack resting on his buttocks and took out a scroll. Toruné took it from his hand. "Mei-Sama requests a meeting with Danzō," he said and folded his arms across his breast.
"I doubt Danzō-Sama would approve it. The mess you people made—it'd be impossible for the Hokage to overlook this. She's hardheaded," he said and moved the back of his hand across the goggles to wipe away the fog.
"You can let him decide that," he said. "Mei-Sama will be busy with the treaties for a few more weeks. I want you to handle a pest." He narrowed his eyes behind the glasses dotted with raindrops.
"A pest?" Toruné asked and shoved the scroll into his pocket. It really was up to Danzō to decide, after all . . .
"A rumour's spreading in Rain that Kisame has been sighted close to a few known borders. People who work for Leaf there are whispering. It's only a matter of time before he contacts Suigetsu or, Sage forbid, Sasuke, to escalate this. I'm sure your little hearing was a disaster," he said with a wry smile.
Toruné's lips twitched into a hard scowl, but he did not say anything. Chōjūrō went on, "you couldn't corner that man to delay his involvement. If he catches wind of this and finds Kisame, all is lost. Don't forget, your boss started this and made us suffer. If Kisame talks, he would be the first one to walk to his death."
Toruné narrowed his eyes. The fog did not bother him that much anymore. He was angry, but he suppressed his anger and watched as Chōjūrō left him alone in the rain. It was becoming a troublesome matter . . .
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