Danzo sat in his dimly lit office, his fingertips steepled as he pondered the recent incident. The diplomat from Kumo had met an unfortunate end when he attempted to kidnap the heir of one of Konoha's prominent clans. In response, Hiashi, the clan head, had swiftly eliminated the Jonin sent for the kidnapping, further inflaming the tension between the two villages.
"Hiruzen would have wanted to find a peaceful solution to this situation," Danzo muttered to himself, "but perhaps his approach would have been too soft." He gestured with a subtle hand sign, summoning one of his trusted Root agents to appear before him. "Bring me Orochimaru, and make sure to bring the corpse of the Kumo diplomat as well," he ordered. The ninja nodded and vanished in a blur, on a mission to carry out his Hokage's command.
Danzo sighed and turned his attention back to the giant stack of paperwork on his desk. He glanced at the sheer volume and couldn't help but empathize with his late friend. "No wonder he liked his pipe so much," he muttered under his breath.
"It used to calm him down a lot on the field. Sensei was obsessed with that thing," Orochimaru remarked as he entered the room.
"Orochimaru, what have you discovered about the body? Did he possess any bloodline limit?" Danzo inquired.
"The ninja appeared to be of civilian origin. We've managed to extract some information from his body, such as his nutritional habits, but nothing else of significance," Orochimaru replied with a hint of disappointment.
"Disappointing, but it can't be helped. Now, how close are you to completing the Chimera project?" Danzo asked. Before fully committing to a war with Kumo, he wanted to ensure he had explored all available assets.
The Chimera project was Danzo's pet project, a secret initiative to advance Konoha's scientific capabilities. He had assigned Orochimaru to this task after discovering the scientist's hidden laboratory beneath the village. Orochimaru was permitted to continue his research, with the condition that he would avoid experimenting on clan children.
The project aimed to grant individuals bloodline abilities through grafting or organ transplants. So far, the results had been mixed, with subjects either rejecting the implants and perishing or showing no immediate changes.
"We have achieved success in transferring the Wood Release bloodline. However, the subject experienced significant weakness after the procedure. Recovery is expected, and the subject should return to full health soon," Orochimaru reported.
"Good. What's the success rate for the transplants?" Danzo inquired further.
"Twenty-seven percent, Hokage-sama," Orochimaru responded.
"I'll be sending some of my agents to assist you. Ensure that the success rate improves," Danzo ordered.
"Yes, Hokage-sama." Orochimaru bowed before taking his leave.
"Sometimes, to support the great tree, sacrifices must be made," Danzo mused as he gazed at the dwindling pile of paperwork. He reached for Hiruzen's pipe, curious about what made it so appealing.
Meanwhile, on the rain-soaked streets of Konoha, Kuin grimaced as he limped away from his recent ordeal. Ever since his visit to the ramen shop, his body had grown increasingly sluggish, and waves of nausea washed over him. He couldn't even bear to think about the unpleasant restroom trips he had endured.
"That should teach some of those shop owners a lesson," Kuin muttered to himself, "Have fun serving customers with my shit stinking up the place bastards."
But just as he uttered those words, Kuin's stomach churned once more. He hurriedly sought refuge in a nearby alley. As he hid behind a dumpster, he unleashed another round of distressing symptoms. Minutes later, as he began to wipe himself with old newspapers he had found, he realized something was terribly amiss.
"B-blood?" Kuin stammered, his eyes wide with fear, as he examined the unexpected crimson stains on the makeshift toilet paper.
Kuin's heart raced as he stared at the blood-soaked newspaper. Panic welled up inside him as he tried to process the horrifying sight. Thoughts raced through his mind, each one more terrifying than the last.
"What the hell is happening to me?" he muttered, his voice trembling.
The rain continued to pour, mercilessly drenching him as he crouched behind the dumpster. Kuin felt a sense of isolation that went beyond his physical predicament. He was alone in a world he didn't understand, surrounded by people who showed him nothing but hostility.
As he tried to gather his thoughts, he couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was at play. His visit to Ichiraku's Ramen had left him feeling unwell, and he couldn't ignore the possibility that it was no ordinary food poisoning.
The rain continued to fall relentlessly, drenching him as he crouched behind the dumpster. Isolated in this bewildering world, surrounded by hostility, Kuin knew he couldn't face this mystery alone.
His thoughts drifted back to the ramen shop owner, a seemingly friendly face in a sea of hostility. But now, with his newfound suspicion, he was 70% sure he had been poisoned there.
He ventured back into the rain-soaked streets, using the last of his strength to make his way to the hospital in a last ditch effort to stay alive. Hoping praying that they will help him.
Kuin's steps faltered as he approached Konoha's hospital, the last flicker of hope burning in his eyes. He knew he couldn't trust anyone completely in this cruel world, but maybe, just maybe, the medical professionals could provide him some help.
The hospital's entrance loomed before him, and he pushed his weakened body to cross the threshold. Inside, the sterile scent of antiseptic hit him, and the hum of medical activity filled the air. Nurses bustled about, and patients awaited their turn for care.
Kuin stumbled toward the front desk, desperation etched on his face. "Please," he pleaded with the receptionist, his voice shaky, "I need help. Something's terribly wrong with me."
The receptionist glanced up, her expression initially one of concern. But then something changed in her eyes, a subtle shift, as if she'd recognized him. Her smile turned disconcertingly sweet.
"Of course, we can help you," she replied, her voice dripping with something ominous. "Just have a seat and wait. The doctor will see you soon."
As Kuin settled into a nearby chair, dread washed over him. He couldn't escape the feeling that he had fallen into a web of deceit, and there was no way out. The rain outside seemed to drum a foreboding rhythm on the windows, echoing the growing storm inside his heart.
Would the hospital offer salvation, or had he merely exchanged one potential end for another? Kuin could only wait, hope dwindling, as he teetered on the precipice of a truth he might not be ready to face.
One thing he knows for sure is that if they tried anything he would fight until his last breath.