Chapter 9

Konoha, Hokage's office

The heavy door to the Hokage's office opened without ceremony, swinging inward on silent hinges. Danzo Shimura entered, his cane tapping faintly on the polished wood floor. The sound was deliberate, a subtle announcement of his presence, as if the very idea of knocking were beneath him. Behind him, the Hokage's secretary scowled, but she didn't dare voice her frustration. Danzo had that effect on people.

"Hiruzen," Danzo said, his voice clipped and steady.

"Danzo," Hiruzen replied, sitting behind his desk with a faint curl of smoke rising from his pipe. His gaze was calm, but not warm. He gestured to the chair across from him. "Please, have a seat."

Danzo settled into the chair without acknowledgment, setting his cane aside as his single visible eye rested on Hiruzen. He studied the man before him—the sag of his shoulders, the faint weariness in his expression, the habitual pipe held between his fingers. To Danzo, these were the signs of a leader who had grown soft, eroded by decades of sentimentality. Hiruzen had always been unfit for the harsh realities of power, clinging to ideals that had no place in the brutal world of shinobi. Danzo had always known he could have done better. Should have done better.

And he would.

The coming invasion by Orochimaru would make it inevitable. Danzo had ensured that most of Konoha's forces would be deployed on missions far from the village when the attack came, leaving Hiruzen vulnerable. The old man would fall, and Konoha would suffer, but its strength would remain intact under Danzo's careful design. With Tsunade and Jiraiya unwilling to take the Hat, the choice would be clear. Danzo would step forward, the savior in Konoha's darkest hour. He would rebuild the village swiftly, turning its fall into an opportunity to solidify its power and reputation. It would rise from the ashes—not as Hiruzen's Konoha, but as his.

"You've been very active these past few weeks," Danzo began, his tone devoid of pleasantries.

Hiruzen exhaled a long plume of smoke, his expression unreadable. "The sabotage at the Academy was a wake-up call. It exposed vulnerabilities that cannot be ignored. The strength of our village begins with its youth, and we cannot afford to let that foundation weaken."

Danzo inclined his head slightly, though the motion was less agreement than acknowledgment. "I expected as much. Mizuki's incompetence was inevitable. A breach like that was bound to happen. But this... opportunity," he said, leaning forward just slightly, "is one that we should seize. The Academy has long needed reform. It is inefficient, unstructured. The current curriculum is built on outdated ideals."

Hiruzen's pipe paused briefly mid-motion. "Outdated ideals?" he asked, his voice carrying a faint edge.

Danzo didn't waver. "Yes. The village is not the peaceful haven you wish it to be, Hiruzen. Not yet. We cannot afford to indulge in fantasies of harmony while the world remains hostile. The Academy must prepare its students to be tools for the village—disciplined, loyal, and unshakable."

"And you believe this requires a complete overhaul of the curriculum?" Hiruzen asked, his tone measured.

"I do," Danzo replied, his voice firm but calm. "We must strip away unnecessary distractions and focus on discipline, tactical training, and loyalty. The next generation must understand their role—not as individuals, but as components of a greater whole. Only then can we ensure Konoha's survival."

Hiruzen leaned back slightly in his chair, his fingers tapping idly against the stem of his pipe. His gaze lingered on Danzo, quiet and contemplative. Danzo knew that look—knew Hiruzen was weighing his words carefully, as he always did. Hesitation, Danzo thought with faint disdain. Always hesitation.

"I see your point," Hiruzen said at last, his voice carrying the faintest note of resignation. "Perhaps I have grown too soft. Perhaps my approach to the Academy has been... naive."

Danzo's eye narrowed slightly, the faintest flicker of satisfaction passing across his face. Of course, he thought. This was why Hiruzen had always been unfit for true leadership. He could be swayed. He could be made to see reason when pressed hard enough.

"For the council meeting with the clan heads in one week," Hiruzen continued, "prepare a proposal for a full reform of the Academy system. Present your vision, and we will discuss it."

Danzo inclined his head slightly, his tone careful but edged with satisfaction. "I will prepare accordingly."

He rose, his movements steady and deliberate, retrieving his cane as he turned to leave. As he exited, the faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. This was progress, the first step toward reshaping Konoha into the village it should be. Hiruzen had finally yielded, even if he didn't realize it yet.

Behind him, unseen, Hiruzen watched him go. The faintest curl of amusement tugged at the Hokage's lips as he picked up his pipe once more. Smoke swirled gently in the air as he leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting into a knowing smile. Danzo thought he was in control, and Hiruzen, as ever, was content to let him believe it—for now.

"Fucking cunt. Can't believe I liked you. I should have known you were an asshole with your ugly mug, when I met you at the academy".

Konoha, Academy

The classroom buzzed with restless whispers and the occasional scrape of chairs as the students fidgeted, watching the clock tick ever forward. Gai Sensei was two hours late—a blessing so rare that nobody wanted to jinx it by speaking too loudly.

"Maybe he won't come?" Ino ventured, her voice practically dripping with hope.

Sakura, seated beside her, nodded with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Shikamaru watched the exchange from his usual slouched position in the back, noting how their shared suffering under Gai's relentless training had turned former frenemies into begrudging allies. Trauma, he mused, was a powerful uniter.

"NOOOO!" Naruto's voice shattered the fragile tranquility, making everyone flinch. "Gai Sensei is the best! He even compliments me!"

Sakura's lips pressed together like she was holding back a sharp retort, but she ultimately let it go. Instead, she cast a glance toward Sasuke, her expression almost contemplative. Shikamaru noticed. Interesting. Naruto's enthusiasm was as grating as ever, but it seemed Sasuke didn't roll his eyes this time. Instead, the last Uchiha gave Naruto a sidelong look that wasn't outright dismissal. Rivalry, perhaps? Shikamaru smirked to himself. It made sense. Watching Naruto utterly crush Sasuke in stamina—thanks to Gai's insane training—and go toe-to-toe with him in taijutsu had probably rattled the cool, unshakable prodigy. Naruto might still be leagues behind in ninjutsu, but Mizuki's sabotage was glaringly obvious now. Two weeks with Gai had undone years of neglect.

A sudden puff of smoke snapped Shikamaru out of his thoughts. The classroom went silent as a figure materialized on the desk, crouched in a casual sprawl. The man had a flak jacket lazily unzipped, revealing a hint of a standard black shirt underneath. His silver hair shot out in every direction, defying gravity itself. His headband covered one eye, adding an aura of mystery, while the visible one scanned a page of what was unmistakably an adult magazine.

"Yo," the man greeted, not bothering to look up. His voice was lazy and flat, yet somehow carried a sharpness that cut through the silence. "I'm a clone, forced into this misery. Not by my original, mind you—he actually tried to get out of it—but by the Hokage himself. Can you believe that? I hate kids. I hate teaching. But here we are. Two weeks. Me. You. Misery."

Naruto's hand shot up before his brain engaged. "Hey! Who are you?"

The man flicked a page with deliberate slowness, finally tilting his head toward Naruto without lifting his gaze from the magazine. "Huh? You said something?"

Shikamaru felt it first—the collective shiver that rippled through the room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Gai had spoken of a rival—"hip," "cool," and, most memorably, "sadistic." Shikamaru's brain clicked the pieces together, and the realization hit like a brick. No. No way.

"Nooo," Shikamaru muttered, denial slipping out in a pathetic whisper.

The man finally set the magazine aside and adjusted his hitai-ate, shielding the covered eye even more securely. Then, without a trace of enthusiasm, he stood and addressed the class. "Lesson 1—Ninjutsu. Or survival. Same thing."

He clapped his hands together, and Shikamaru barely had time to blink before a massive dragon made of water erupted from nowhere, barreling toward the classroom. Instinct took over, and Shikamaru screamed, diving under his desk as the torrent swept through the room. Around him, chaos erupted—Naruto was laughing like a maniac, Ino was shrieking, and Sakura was hurling curses that would have made Gai faint.

This, Shikamaru thought as he ducked a stray water tendril, was going to be a very, very long two weeks.

Konoha, Hokage Tower

Tsume Inuzuka strode down the polished halls of the Hokage's tower, her boots landing with a force that made lesser shinobi step aside. Her gait was purposeful, almost animalistic, with an intensity that mirrored the feral energy she embodied. As she reached the Hokage's office, she paused, drawing in a deep breath. Her sharp eyes scanned the area instinctively, taking in the secretary's uneasy glance and the faint hum of chakra from ANBU operatives stationed nearby. With a quick exhale, she pushed the door open.

"Hokage-sama," she barked, her voice gruff but filled with respect. Hiruzen Sarutobi, despite his age and calm demeanor, commanded her unwavering loyalty. He wasn't just a leader to her—he was an alpha. The memory of him driving Orochimaru to retreat, saving her life in the process, flashed in her mind. It still sent a thrill of respect—and maybe a bit of fear—through her.

Inside, Hiruzen stood at the window, his back to her, gazing out over the village he had dedicated his life to. The soft light framed him, but it wasn't his silhouette that struck Tsume. It was the energy emanating from him—subtle but potent, coiled like a predator waiting to strike. He turned as she stepped inside, his face breaking into a warm but weary smile.

"Tsume," he said, his voice steady as he motioned toward a chair. "Please, sit."

As she took her seat, the chair creaked under the weight of her athletic build. Standing at a commanding height of one meter eighty-five, her muscular physique was perfectly showcased by her skin-tight combat attire that seemed to cling to every curve and contour of her sculpted body. Her powerful thighs and well-defined calves hinted at explosive strength and agility, while her stance was wide and stable, exuding readiness and confidence. The fabric of her shirt, stretched taut over her robust chest, emphasized large, firm breasts that balanced impressively atop her rippling abs. Her attire also accentuated her broad, muscular back and the firm, rounded swell of her ass, each muscle outlined with the definition only years of rigorous training could achieve. As she crossed her thick, muscular arms over her chest, attention was inevitably drawn to her ample bosom. Her wild, untamed hair cascaded down her back like a mane, framing a face marked by striking red fang-like tattoos on each cheek, enhancing her feral beauty.

And then she caught it—something off. Her keen nose picked up a change in Hiruzen's scent. It was... fresher? Stronger? There was a strange vigor to it, a vitality that seemed to ripple through the air. She sniffed lightly, her brow furrowing. "What the fuck did he do?" she thought, her instincts on edge.

Hiruzen didn't waste time. "Shit's about to go down, Tsume," he said, his voice cutting through the room's stillness like a blade. "Violent shit. S-ranked shit. The village is in the crosshairs, and the stakes couldn't be higher."

"What?" Tsume recoiled slightly, her feral instincts kicking in as a low growl rumbled in her throat. She wasn't used to hearing the Hokage speak so bluntly, and the words hit her like a hammer. "The pack is in danger?" Her tone was sharp, protective, and utterly fierce.

"I have it under control," Hiruzen said, holding her gaze steadily. The calm authority in his voice was unshakable, even as he spoke of impending danger. "You'll see the aftermath. Maybe. But I didn't call you here to fight—just to make sure you're in the loop."

Tsume's eyes narrowed, scanning him for signs of doubt, but his face betrayed nothing. Her hackles lowered slightly, but the tension in her shoulders remained. "Why me?" she asked. "Why now?"

"Because your clan is one of the pillars of this village," Hiruzen said, his tone shifting slightly, carrying a thread of flattery that he wielded like a weapon. "And because I think it's important to trust the people who truly matter, even when the stakes are this high."

She felt the weight of his words, the pride that came with them, though her instincts told her he'd probably said something similar to the fucking Hyuga. Still, the acknowledgment made her chest swell. She wasn't just a cog in the wheel—her clan, her people, were vital.

"This also explains the Nara," Tsume said, her sharp mind catching up as she pieced things together. "They've been scurrying around for weeks, haven't they? Like busy little deer when there's trouble brewing." Her tone was laced with sarcasm, but her point was clear.

Hiruzen inclined his head slightly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "The Nara know enough to prepare. But this isn't their fight, either."

"Then whose fight is it?" she asked, her voice dropping into a dangerous register. "If my clan isn't tearing these enemies apart, who the hell is going to?"

Hiruzen took a step forward, his presence filling the room as he unleashed a wave of chakra that pressed against Tsume like a physical force. The air grew heavy, crackling with raw energy as the aura of the God of Shinobi rolled out like a storm. Tsume's instincts screamed at her to lower her gaze, but she refused, holding his stare even as her blood thrilled at the sheer might of his chakra.

"I will," Hiruzen said, his voice reverberating with unshakable certainty. His words carried the weight of an unbreakable vow. "This isn't a battle for the village's warriors. This is a battle for its leader. I will take the front line. I will face this threat head-on. And I will crush it."

Tsume sat back slightly, her throat dry and her mind racing. She had always respected Hiruzen Sarutobi, but this was something else. This was a man who didn't just lead from the shadows; he stood in the light, ready to take on whatever hell awaited.

As she rose to leave, her feral grin returned, sharp and knowing. "You better win, old man. This pack doesn't do well without its alpha."

Hiruzen smiled back, a glint of steel in his eyes. "I don't plan on losing."

Konoha, Hokage Tower

"I'm badass and strong," Hiruzen muttered, his voice steady despite the weight of the words. "But I'm not suicidal." His hands stilled for a moment, his gaze flickering to the prepared seals arranged neatly before him. "It's just for backup," he continued, almost like he was trying to convince himself. "In case. Not that I'll need it—it's already overkill."

The final seal snapped into place, and the room seemed to hum with an unnatural energy.

"Kuchiyose no Jutsu: Edo Tensei - Impure World Reincarnation ."

Hiruzen stepped back as the technique activated. The summoning circles flared to life with a sickly green glow, and one shape began to materialize in the middle of the room, their forms pulling together from the fragments of ash and chakra that swirled in the air.

"Backup," Hiruzen muttered again, his tone betraying just the faintest edge of irony.

Chapter 10 to 15 published on P.a-tr.e°on with exclusive extras.
Also, again - there is many questions in the reviews on my take on the technology levels, on the Edo Tensei...There is a lot of background information for this story (political landscape, medical knowledge, tech levels) on Questionable Question, where I made about 4 000 words of explanation on that. So if it interests you, I've answered your reviews and questions there.