A plume of black smoke rose up from the wreckage of the Hokage residence. Naruto stared at it alongside the stunned crowd that had gathered before it, ninjas and civilians alike struck dumb at the sight of the gaping wound that had been torn through the heart of Konoha. Naruto knew of war and had experienced the horrors of conflict between ninjas first-hand, but it was altogether something else to see it brought to their very doorstep – to find it in Konohagakure, in the Land of Fire, where the sun always shines.

Somewhere in the crowd, Naruto saw Ino whisper something into Sasuke’s ear, and the last of the Uchiha went pale at the news. Naruto did not need to hear the words to know her meaning: Rumours had been going around the Village of a man with baleful crimson eyes who clad himself in shadows, a man who had butchered his own clan: It was said in hushed whispers that Uchiha Itachi had returned to the Leaf. Naruto did not know where the rumour had come from, much less whether he believed it.

He kept staring at the black smoke, the sight filling him with an almost familiar sense of dread. The sheer wanton destruction, the indiscriminate damage, to kill just one man… He remembered gawking at the extravagance of Tenten’s explosive projectile; how many resources had been expended for this one desperate attempt? In a world of Shinobi for whom individual strength meant everything, what kind of ninja would admit to themselves that they could not kill a foe with their own skill and cunning, and instead resort to such crude brute force? Those were the methods of a barbarian, a civilian, a monster.

It was exactly what Naruto would have done, if he had wanted to assassinate the Hokage.

-o-

“This emergency council meeting is now called to order,” the Third Hokage announced.

Morino Ibiki and the rest of the council sat down along the oval table in the Administrative section of the Academy building, their chairs scraping along the wooden floor in unison.

The Hokage sat down at the head of the table, calmly lighting up his pipe as though he had not nearly been assassinated a few hours ago. “Morino Ibiki,” he said, puffing out a string of grey smoke. “As acting Head of the Anbu, I would like you to explain the situation.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama.” Ibiki folded his hands in a steeple and looked each of the weary-yet-alert council members in the eye, making sure he had their attention. “Shortly before midnight there was an explosion that demolished the Hokage’s private residence. Around the same time an unidentified agent was spotted near the Hokage residence by the chūnin exam proctor, Gekko Hayate, who we believe to have died in the explosion.” Hayate’s shadow clone had clearly believed himself to be the original, which was what truly concerned Ibiki: If the enemy had caught Hayate in a genjutsu right from the start, why permit him to follow at all? That implied darker forces at work.

“Demolished? You should call it what it is: A blatant attack on our Village by a foreign power.” This irate remark came from the bandaged old shinobi known as Shimura Danzō, who was seated opposite Ibiki. The man was already starting to look aggravated, which could only be a good thing – strong emotions and logic rarely mixed, in Ibiki’s experience, even for someone as cold and ruthless as Danzō. “Hiruzen, this saboteur was coming straight from the compound where you allowed the Sand to gather their forces – despite my every warning! Now this brave young shinobi has paid the price for your naivety.”

The Third took a long drag on his pipe. “I am indeed grateful for your council, Danzō: Had you not insisted that I conduct my daily activities with a Shadow Clone while keeping my true body hidden, it most likely would not have ended well for me. However, it is far too soon to conclude that this unfortunate event-”

“Too soon?” The side of the man’s face that was not wrapped in bandages contorted. “They brought an entire army with them, Hiruzen. Do you know how many of those retainers are secret Shinobi?” He cast his gaze around the room. “All of them. The acrobats are Anbu, the geisha are kunoichi and even the assistant cooks are genin. And as for that old woman, the new member of the Kazekage’s council? I am almost certain that she is none other than elder Chiyo of the Honoured Siblings!”

There were sudden intakes of breath, hushed whispers and murmurs of disbelief all around the table. Even the Hokage looked shocked. “The Sand brought the Doom of Tanzaku Castle right into our Village? I cannot believe they would dare do anything so brazen – No, Danzō, surely you must be mistaken!”

That was Ibiki’s cue: “I asked Yamanake Inoichi as well as the noble Hyūga clan to keep an eye on the Sand,” he said, gesturing towards his loyal subordinate and the head Hyūga twit respectively. “If anything untoward was happening, I am sure they would have informed us immediately.”

They all turned to look at Lord Hyūga Hiashi, who frowned and stared dead ahead, his eerie white eyes allowing him to see all that was happening in the room. He could have been watching girls bathe in Konoha’s bathhouses for all Ibiki knew.

“It is true that the Hyūga have been observing the Sand ninjas since their arrival,” the man said in the clipped formal tones typical of the Hyūga. “We have noticed no fluctuations in chakra that would accompany the use of a transformation technique. However, I should point out that the Byakugan would not be able to detect more, shall we say… civilian methods of disguise.”

“Exactly,” said Danzō, sounding as vindicated as a doomsayer faced with a falling sky. “Do you see the truth now, Hiruzen? The Sand is moving against us, plotting our destruction and amassing their army right beneath our very noses. We must launch an offensive strike immediately – if we combine our forces and strike in the dead of night while they lie sleeping, this will all be over before morning.”

“I see,” said the Third, taking a drag on his pipe. “And tell me, old friend, what are these forces of yours that you refer to? Surely you don’t mean the Root division of the Anbu, which you assured me to have been disbanded long ago. Come to think of it, I cannot imagine how you would have any suspicions regarding the elder lady’s identity or the Kazekage’s entourage without your old spy network – surely you don’t expect me to take such a rash course of action based on mere hearsay and guesswork?”

Danzō gritted his teeth in frustration, and Ibiki smiled thinly at the sight, which succeeded in aggravating the old Shinobi even more. In truth he did not disagree with him: Allowing the Sand to amass such strength in the Village could only cause trouble further down the line, and it made them look weak besides. However, admitting that would only strengthen Danzō’s position in the council, which he as leader of the loyalist Anbu could not allow.

No, it was not simple spite that motivated Ibiki – rather, he knew from experience that Danzō’s ideals were so diametrically opposed to the Hokage’s that opposing the man could only ever be good for the Leaf, even if some sacrifices had to be made along the way.

That and riling Danzō up was just too much fun.

“I call for a motion to have the Sand removed from the Leaf,” Danzō bit out. “Their forces, even discounting the possible inclusion of Elder Chiyo and the One-tailed Sand Spirit, simply present too great a threat for us to ignore.” There were murmurs of assent at this pronouncement, which worried Ibiki. If the Third had any sense at all, he would ignore Danzō’s call for a vote and simply-

“Very well,” the Third said. “Let us go around the table. What do you think, Koharu?”

“I quite agree with Lord Danzō on this matter,” the old woman said primly, siding with the Third’s rival as usual. “It was not so long ago that the Sand was our enemy – it is far too soon to trust them with this much power.” Her partner Homura nodded firmly along, which was unsurprising since the bland old man had never dared disagree with her on anything in his life.

Ibiki’s burned hands twitched at the sight: How the Third could permit his own former teammates to oppose him so blatantly was utterly beyond him. Anyone could make a mistake in trusting the wrong person – Ibiki’s own scars were proof enough of that – but to permit the same friends to betray you over and over again was beyond foolish.

“I see,” the Third said calmly. “And what is your view, Ibiki?”

Ibiki leaned forward, considering his words carefully. “The Anbu find that there is insufficient evidence to conclude that the Sand is responsible for this attack. Furthermore, challenging the Kazekage with unfounded accusations could cause a rift that would fracture our newly formed alliance and endanger the Leaf. In order to secure our future, I vote against the motion.”

He sat back, satisfied that he had made the Third’s case successfully. Unfortunately, his dual roles as head of Torture and Interrogation as well as acting commander of the Anbu did not afford him multiple votes. In his place Danzō would no doubt have assigned a crony to each of those positions, thereby increasing his power in the council, but that was the price Ibiki paid for ensuring that those jobs were done right.

Besides him, Inoichi inclined his head in agreement. “In my professional opinion as Head of Intelligence under Morino Ibiki, I second this assessment. The Yamanaka clan votes against the motion.”

“Very well,” said the Third. “And Chōza, how does the noble Akimichi clan vote?”

Everyone turned to the enormous head of the Akimichi clan, whose eyes went wide with fear as though he had found himself on his own family’s dinner plates. “Ahhh, that’s to say…” Danzō was giving Chōza a threatening glare, but Ibiki was not overly concerned – not only because he himself was far more terrifying than Danzō could ever hope to be, but also because the Akimichi were lifelong friends with both the Nara and the Yamanaka, the latter of which had just voted against the motion.

Sure enough, the massive man turned to the Nara clan head sitting next to him, sweat pouring from his forehead in litres. “Ah, Shikaku. What uh, what do you think? How I should vote, I mean.”

The jōnin commander frowned, stroking his dark goatee in thought. “I think you should make the decision you yourself feel most comfortable with, Chōza.”

Ibiki could have punched the man. You imbecile! What’s even the point of lugging that sack of blubber around if you’re not going to tell him what to do? If Chōza had one redeeming quality it was that he knew his own limitations, which made him infinitely more tolerable than those decrepit elders the Third kept around, but the supposedly brilliant Nara clan head did not even know to use that to his advantage.

The Third nodded approvingly. “Indeed, it is always important for us to follow our own hearts, and to let the ancestral Will of Fire guide our thoughts and actions. So, how shall it be, Chōza?”

“I think… I think…” The man pulled out a giant kerchief and dabbed his forehead. “I think that maybe it’s not such a good idea to keep all those Sand ninjas here?” He flinched away from Ibiki’s murderous glare.

“Very good,” said the Third, and he actually sounded pleased. Had nobody ever explained to the man that politics was an extension of war? There was no denying that the world was better off for the fact that Sarutobi Hiruzen had been chosen as Third Hokage instead of Danzō, but what was even the point of having principles if you refused to defend them? Where was the sense in setting rules that only one side ever obeyed? Each time the Third won a fight it was as though he would bend over backwards to reduce his winnings, while every victory for Danzō was a crushing blow that took the Leaf years to recover from.

Next to vote was Nara Shikaku, whose eyes were closed in thought or from lack of sleep. “As jōnin commander of our regular forces, I agree with Morino Ibiki’s assessment of the situation. The Nara clan votes against the motion.” This infuriated Ibiki even more: If Shikaku had turned against him, he could at least have understood, but now he and his fat friend might as well not have shown up at all.

All eyes turned to Lord Hyūga Hiashi, who held the last remaining swing vote. Hiashi was considered a moderate voice on the council, but only to the extent that Danzō’s views were so extreme that Hiashi’s looked mild by comparison. The man’s face betrayed not a hint of consternation or pressure as the council waited for his answer, though the veins around his pale eyes grew ever thicker as they pulsed with chakra.

“I agree with lord Danzō that we should not invite danger into our Village needlessly,” the man said at length. “However, I also agree that we should avoid insulting our new allies. We could, of course, find some pretext to move the Kazekage’s retinue out of the Village…” He slowly tapped his fingers on his armrest, and Ibiki raised three fingers under the table in response. “Although, since we outnumber them so greatly, I suppose they do not pose much of a threat regardless.” Ibiki raised one more finger, and that must have been more than Danzō was offering because Hiashi nodded in reply. “Yes, I suppose it’s best if we continue to observe the Sand for now. The Hyūga clan votes against the motion.”

Success! Ibiki gave Danzō his most self-assured sneer, and that finally did it: The bandaged old man exploded from his seat, the visible side of his face twisting in fury. “This is madness! You people would invite an enemy army into our Village? Have you all lost your minds? Or have you forgotten how the Sand ravaged our lands and tortured our people? What elder Chiyo did to Tanzaku Castle alone would be reason enough to reduce their entire bastard nation to ash, and yet you would dare invite her here?”

“Calm yourself Danzō,” the Hokage said soothingly. “Of course we all share your strong feelings, but-”

“Be silent!” Flecks of spittle flew from Danzō’s mouth. “We fought three Wars, Hiruzen! Three times our enemies tried to destroy all that we hold dear, and three times our friends and family shed bitter blood on the battlefield to throw them back! Three times we gave up the chance to destroy our foes and signed peace treaties in hopes of a better tomorrow, and yet three times they threw it back in our faces and laughed! The First was a fool to believe in a peaceful resolution, but even he had the sense to kill Uchiha Madara in the end. It was the Second who gave us all that we have, who founded the Anbu and the Academy and finally made us into a nation to be feared, but he made the one mistake in his life when he chose as successor a man who loves his enemies more than he loves his friends!”

The entire room fell silent, and the colour slowly drained from Danzō’s face as he realized he had gone too far.

“Lord Danzō, you should apologize immediately,” Kotaru said, scandalized. “That was entirely out of line.” Homura nodded firmly along. “I’ll say,” he murmured. “That was most – most irregular!”

Just as Danzō looked about to sit down and apologize, Ibiki stepped in. “Let us not be too harsh on the poor lord,” he said. “I’m sure Danzō did not mean to call our great leader a traitor – and if his nightly activities had not left him so exhausted, I am certain he would never have given voice to such treasonous-sounding thoughts.” He gave Danzō his best shit-eating grin. “As long as he apologizes to us for his behaviour right here and now, I see no need for the council to punish him for his insolence.”

The look on Danzō’s face was everything Ibiki had ever hoped for, and so much more. The bandaged old man opened his mouth, choked back whatever he had intended to say, and stormed out of the room while spluttering something incoherent which might or might not have been some sort of apology.

“Most irregular,” Homura said again. As everyone else stared on in shock, Ibiki basked in the warm glow.

Truly, victory was sweet.