The worst part of being subtly compelled by a contract that demands absolute loyalty, was that it was made to feel natural, Danzo mused grimly.
His careful plans for the past thirty years were now gone, burned to ashes.
Civilians were a suspicious lot, by nature only trusting the shinobi they grew up with, and even that was a distant trust. It had been almost too easy, simply plant some subtle rumors and whispers to turn the civilian population against the Kyuubi Jinchuriki.
The fear soon developed into hatred, and it was too easy to fan the flames about how they could keep the Kyuubi from regaining its past strength if they hamstrung it. Weakened it.
It was trapped in a human body, and worse, it pretended like it was human. Those tears were fake, it was laughing at you. Those cries for help and food, were lures only meant to weaken your guard as it corrupted you and your children. Give it no shelter. No warmth. No food. No kindness. Starve the beast. Make it suffer like it made your loved ones suffer in their final moments.
From there, it became too easy. The same rumors that had allowed Danzo to mold the 'undesirables' to be guided into Root and his line of thinking, had worked perfectly for breaking the spirit of the Jinchuriki.
After all, it had worked before. It was how he molded Orochimaru. How he had been able to sway Konoha against the 'red eyed demons that lurked under the Uchiha's skin'. Civilians were almost too easy to be molded to suit his needs, and when he had needed them to change their minds for Sayuri?
The death of her Clan had been a sign from Kami that, as the spared, she was innocent of her Clan's crimes for harboring demons in the blood and soul.
And all of that work was slowly becoming undone as Shikamaru used the cracks he'd made in the spirit of those same undesirables, in the spirit of the Jinchuriki, to make them stronger and more loyal by filling those cracks, making them entirely loyal to Shikamaru in turn, even if it made them temporarily vulnerable emotionally during the process.
Shikamaru had taken the process he'd painstakingly mastered and honed, and subverted it entirely for his own purposes. He couldn't even be upset about that fact: a part of him even admired the young man's willingness to take on such projects.
Danzo knew he was slated for death. If not by Sayuri Uchiha's hands, then by Shikamaru's hands. He knew it, and had accepted it. Everything he'd done, was for the sake of Konoha.
And if that meant to take on the responsibility of being the monster, of being the one whose stories were told in hush whispers for his crimes and horrific actions, Danzo accepted it wholeheartedly.
It was the nature of what it meant to be a shinobi. Something Hiruzen Sarutobi could never understand. That for the good of the many, sacrifices must be made.
It was always the case. It was what he had learned as Tobirama-sensei had sacrificed himself for the mission.
That to get things done, sometimes one must be willing to do even monstrous acts for the sake of progress. Even if it means ruining relationships. Ruining families. Destroying reputations. Breaking promises.
Burning entire villages to the ground. Whatever it took for Konoha to stay on top.
Danzo didn't feel regret or guilt for his actions, nor the problems he had caused. It was not in his nature. He had no sympathy or empathy for those who still tried to be human and Shinobi. To be a true shinobi in his eyes, was to kill all heart, to be a tool of war and death for one's country.
He had no regrets. No guilt. He did what he had to do, and he'd do it again if it was required of him to do so.
So why was he feeling this sense of dread and cold wash over him?
Oh, pitiful Danzo. You think you can die and leave this mortal coil so easily? No, I think you'll be an excellent Wendigo when the time comes, after my Mortal Lover has his fun stringing you along.
Danzo shivered as the Wendigo laughed rasply, not able to hear or see the figure as it licked its lips hungrily at the prey whose soul was drenched in sin.