The Hokage's Tears, and the Original Dream Beneath Falling Leaves

Hiruzen Sarutobi walked in.

His feet crunched over splintered wood. Six Anbu followed behind him, but none dared walk ahead of him.

Tsunade had arrived at some point. She stood three steps to Nawaki's right, arms folded over her chest, her face expressionless. She only watched the Third Hokage.

The Third Hokage's gaze fell on the ground first.

Eighty-six humanoid wooden stakes. Root elites. The hidden force he had brought out, the foundation he had accumulated over thirty years—it was all here.

His gaze shifted on.

Danzō knelt amid the rubble. A wooden spike had pierced his right forearm, pinning him to the ground. The First Hokage's cells exposed on his right arm were proliferating uncontrollably, grayish-green branches pushing out from the surgical scars like some kind of skin disease.

The Third Hokage stopped.

"Hiruzen..." Danzō's voice was hoarse, but he could still speak. "Good, you're here. Look at this—" He pointed at Nawaki with his still-mobile left hand. "He attacked Konoha's shinobi! He—"

"Shut up."

The Third Hokage spoke two words.

They were not loud. They could not even be called harsh. Yet Danzō really did close his mouth.

Because Hiruzen Sarutobi was not looking at him.

The Third Hokage was staring at Danzō's right arm.

That arm altered by the First Hokage's cells. The surgical scars. The fragments of Sharingan embedded in its skin. And the green fluid seeping from its cracks.

"This arm." The Third Hokage spoke, his voice calm. "When was it attached?"

Danzō's lips moved.

"How long ago?" the Third Hokage pressed.

"...Seven years."

Seven years.

Seven years ago, the last batch of elderly Senju Clan shinobi had died of illness one after another. Nawaki had only been five then, and only a few old gatekeepers remained on the clan grounds.

The Third Hokage gripped his pipe, his knuckles tightening.

"Where did the cells come from?"

Danzō did not answer.

He did not need to. The Third Hokage lowered his gaze to the experimental subjects' remains scattered through the ruins—deformed torsos covered in twisted wooden shells, their internal structures identical to Danzō's arm.

"You dug them out of dead Senju Clan members," the Third Hokage finished for him.

Danzō's expression finally changed. It was not guilt, but impatience.

"Hiruzen! Listen to me!" He raised his voice and quickened his speech. "The Senju Clan's bloodline is Konoha's most important strategic resource! The First Hokage's cells hold limitless possibilities! If they aren't researched and utilized, that power will vanish forever along with the Senju Clan's decline—"

"So you helped them decline."

Nawaki's lazy voice drifted over from the side.

Danzō clenched his teeth.

"Everything I did was for Konoha!" He stared hard at the Third Hokage. "Konoha needs Wood Release! It needs power capable of suppressing tailed beasts! Do you think I wanted things to come to this? The Senju Clan itself had no successors—"

"Then what about the explosive tags you planted for him in the Land of Rain?" Tsunade's voice was cold as ice chips. "Was that also because the Senju Clan had no successors?"

Danzō shut his mouth for a second.

"That was Orochimaru's—"

"Orochimaru's proposal, your approval, the Intelligence Division's cooperation, and the Anbu's execution." Nawaki counted on his fingers, one by one. "Lord Danzō, are you going to dump all the blame on Orochimaru now? He hasn't gone far. If you shout, he might still hear you."

Danzō was silent for two seconds.

Then he stopped looking at Nawaki. He looked only at the Third Hokage.

"Hiruzen." His tone changed, becoming the kind only old comrades used with one another. "We have known each other for forty years. You know what kind of man I am. My methods may be harsh, but my heart—"

"Your heart?" The Third Hokage finally turned and faced Danzō directly.

The ruins fell silent.

Hiruzen Sarutobi's eyes were red. Not from anger. From something else.

"Danzō. I have one last question for you."

The Third Hokage crouched down until he was level with the kneeling Danzō.

"If Nawaki hadn't stopped you tonight—how did you plan to deal with his body?"

Danzō's lips trembled.

The Third Hokage did not raise his voice, but everyone present could hear him.

"Would you have sliced him up too? Extracted his cells too? Turned him into one of those things—" He tilted his head toward the experimental remains on the ground. "Then told me, 'This is for Konoha's future'?"

Danzō said nothing.

His silence was the answer.

The Third Hokage slowly stood. His knees cracked. He was old.

"Anbu."

All six Anbu dropped to one knee at once.

"Heavy sealing shackles." The Third Hokage's voice regained the weight befitting a Hokage. "Shimura Danzo is hereby stripped of all positions as Hokage advisor and commander of Root. Take him to the deepest level of the prison. No one may visit without a written order from me."

Two Anbu stepped forward. Sealing shackles were fastened around Danzō's hands. The wooden spike was cut off, and Danzō was dragged up from the ground.

Danzō did not resist.

As they dragged him away, he paused when he passed Nawaki.

"Nawaki Senju."

Nawaki looked at him.

Danzō's mouth twitched. It was not quite a smile, but there was a strange light in his eyes.

"You think you've won?"

His voice was so quiet that only Nawaki could hear.

Then he was dragged away.

Nawaki watched Danzō's back disappear beyond the ruins. He remembered that look. It was not empty bravado. Danzō had something else hidden outside the prison.

But this was not the time to think about that.

Because Hiruzen Sarutobi was walking toward him.

The Third Hokage stopped before Nawaki. Less than a meter separated them.

The old man was half a head taller than Nawaki. Yet at that moment, he seemed shorter.

The Third Hokage reached up and removed his Hokage hat.

Nawaki raised an eyebrow.

"Nawaki." The Third Hokage's voice went hoarse. "I..."

He could not continue.

The old Hokage's shoulders trembled. It was not chakra fluctuation. His muscles were simply shaking.

Then Hiruzen Sarutobi bent at the waist.

Not a nod. A bow. Ninety degrees. A Hokage who had held office for ten years bent low before a twelve-year-old boy.

Even the sound of breathing vanished from the ruins.

Choza Akimichi opened his mouth, then closed it again and let out a long breath.

"I have failed the First Hokage. I have failed the Second Hokage." The Third Hokage's muffled voice came from his bent back. "I have failed every member of the Senju Clan who died."

He paused.

"I have failed you too, Nawaki."

Nawaki stood still.

The Sage Body's senses were operating on their own. He did not need to probe deliberately—the Third Hokage's chakra fluctuations were steady, without the slightest impurity. No calculations. No testing. No hidden backup plan.

It was just an old man admitting his mistake.

Admitting the greatest mistake of his life.

The taut string in Nawaki's heart, stretched tight for three years, suddenly loosened.

Not because he was moved.

Because he chose to let it go.

Danzō was in prison. Root was gone. Tsunade was beside him. Sakumo was in the shadows. Kushina Uzumaki and Mikoto were safe.

The threat had been eliminated.

He did not need to keep acting.

Nawaki stepped forward. He placed both hands on the Third Hokage's shoulders and steadily helped the bent old man straighten up.

Hiruzen Sarutobi raised his head. His face was full of wrinkles, his eyes as red as a rabbit's.

Nawaki looked at him, and the expression on his face changed.

It was not that smile that seemed to have calculated everything.

It was not the sunshine he deliberately put on.

It was the natural, slightly foolish smile of a twelve-year-old—well, even counting his age from his previous life, only a young man in his twenties—who had finally confirmed that he was safe.

"Lord Third Hokage, none of this was your fault."

Nawaki patted the dust from the Third Hokage's shoulder.

Hiruzen Sarutobi froze.

Then the old Hokage's tears really fell.

Not the performance of a politician. It was simply that, upon realizing he still had a chance to make amends, he could not hold them back.

Someone in the crowd sniffed. Choza Akimichi turned his face away.

Tsunade stood nearby, the corner of her mouth twitching. In the end, she only gave a soft "Hmph" and said nothing cruel.

The night wind swept through the ruins.

The lingering green motes had yet to disperse, drifting through the air like fireflies. Mixed with moonlight, they settled on everyone's shoulders.

Nawaki took a step back, slipped his hands into his pockets, and tapped his left foot against his right heel. His entire body looked so relaxed that no one would have guessed he had just fought a battle capable of wiping out a clan.

The Third Hokage wiped his face.

Something complicated filled his eyes. Relief, guilt, and a trace of fear. In the smile of this twelve-year-old child, he saw the shadow of someone he had owed for his entire life.

"Nawaki. From today onward—"

The Third Hokage took a deep breath.

"The affairs of the Senju Clan are Konoha's affairs. If anyone dares touch so much as a blade of grass in your home, you will not need to act. I will."

Nawaki tilted his head. "Lord Third Hokage, I'll remember that. I'll have it carved on a stone tablet and set up at the entrance to the clan grounds someday."

The Third Hokage choked on his words.

Then the old man smiled. It was a smile both bitter and sweet.

At the same time.

The Land of Grass. A dark cavern hundreds of meters underground.

Madara Uchiha sat on a stone throne. Behind him, the Outer Path Statue emitted faint chakra.

A white head emerged from the ground.

White Zetsu.

"Madara-sama, I have some interesting information." White Zetsu grinned. "Over in Konoha, a hundred-meter-tall wooden Buddha just appeared."

Madara remained motionless, his eyes closed.

"The caster is called Nawaki Senju. Twelve years old. He wiped out all of Shimura Danzo's Root."

Madara's eyes slowly opened.

One crimson eye with three tomoe, one gray-white eyeball.

"Twelve years old." Madara's soft voice echoed through the cavern.

He raised a shriveled finger and tapped the armrest of his stone throne.

"Find out everything about him." The corner of Madara's mouth lifted. "Hashirama's power should not be appearing in a brat like this."

White Zetsu sank into the ground.

Madara raised his head and looked at the cavern ceiling.

"Nawaki... Is the Senju Clan not extinct yet?"

He rose and walked to the Outer Path Statue. His palm pressed against its rough wooden surface.

"Looks like the plan will have to be moved forward a little."

Madara closed his eyes and formed a hand seal.