Shadow of Root

Beneath Leaf Village lay a place most ninja would never set foot in their entire lives.

It was not ANBU territory—ANBU at least had an office in the Hokage Building, with a sign reading "ANBU Tactical Squad" hanging outside. Though the door stayed locked year-round, it at least saw daylight. This place, however, was pitch-black. There were no windows, no natural light. Even the corridor lamps provided only the bare minimum of dim illumination. Their tubes had not been changed in ten years, and occasionally flickered, stretching the twisted shadows on the walls long, then short.

Shimura Danzo sat in a hard wooden chair, two reports spread across the table before him.

The first had come three days ago. "Transport team encountered an unknown attack. One chunin lightly injured, no deaths. Lost item: one escort manifest scroll." It was signed Fox Face.

The second had come yesterday. "The chakra of a First Hokage cell test subject has shown abnormal fluctuations. The source has been located southeast of Leaf Village. Exact origin unknown." It was signed by Root's sensory unit.

Danzo placed the two reports together and studied them for a while. Then he picked up the cup of tea on the table, already completely cold, took a sip, and set it back down. His movements were neither hurried nor slow, and his expression did not change, as though he were merely checking the day's weather forecast.

"Fluctuations in the First Hokage's cells." He repeated the words quietly, almost to himself. "And the transport team attack occurred in the same area."

None of the three Root ninja standing before him dared respond. They understood Danzo well—when he said something like that, he did not need an answer. He needed them to stand straight and wait for their assignment.

"Investigate." Danzo put the reports back on the table. "Start with the orphanage."

"The orphanage?" The ninja on the far left, wearing a bull mask, slightly raised his head.

"The source of the First Hokage cell fluctuations is a child." Danzo's tone remained as calm as if he were saying dinner would be fish tonight. "The Senju Clan still has collateral bloodlines remaining in Konoha. Six years ago, during the Nine-Tails Rampage, a couple from one collateral Senju family died, leaving behind an infant who was sent to the orphanage. Investigate that child."

He paused.

"Do it secretly. Do not alert the Third."

"Yes, sir."

The three Root ninja left the room. Once the door closed, only the hum of the dim corridor lights and their nearly synchronized footsteps remained. After walking for some distance, the ninja in the bull mask suddenly spoke. "A child?"

"Lord Danzo cannot be wrong," said another, wearing a snake-patterned mask. "Neither can the sensory unit."

"I know Lord Danzo cannot be wrong." Bull Mask pushed his mask upward, revealing an old scar on his chin. "I just do not understand how an orphan from a collateral Senju family could suddenly trigger fluctuations in the First Hokage's cells. That child is only six."

No one could answer that question.

Senju Shinichi knew nothing about it.

The past two days had been quite comfortable for him. His chakra reserves had nearly tripled, his self-healing ability had been initially unlocked, and his Wood Release had evolved from "can't even sprout a bean shoot" to "can make one sprout, and it lasts a little while before withering." The orphanage's meals had also gradually improved under his subtle influence—last night's dinner had even included a small piece of grilled fish for everyone. It was tiny, barely larger than a potato chip, but at least it was protein.

After lunch that day, he headed to the river to train alone as usual. He had already turned the pebble beach by the small southern river into his secret base. He had repeatedly forced the dead stump there to sprout dozens of times. Its top was no longer dry and barren, finally giving it a faint sense that something living had once dwelled there.

But halfway there, he suddenly stopped.

There was no specific sound. No footsteps, no rustle of fabric, no breathing—nothing at all. Yet it was precisely that nothingness that felt wrong. The woods were too quiet. Usually, this patch of scrub forest was filled with bird calls, insect chirps, and the rustling of squirrels leaping from branch to branch. But now, every sound had vanished, as though someone had pressed a mute button.

Shinichi did not look around. He continued forward at the same pace, with the same expression, and even remembered to feel around in his pocket for coins he had not brought with him. But all his senses were fully engaged—his chakra perception pushed to its limit, his peripheral vision sweeping the treetops on both sides, his ears catching for even the faintest irregular sound behind him.

Someone was watching him.

It was not the kind of glance a passing villager gave before looking away. This gaze stayed fixed on him. It came from somewhere high to his left, like a needle pricking the back of his neck—not painful, but impossible to ignore.

When Shinichi reached the riverbank, he casually crouched down to wash his hands. Using the reflection on the water's surface, he swiftly glanced behind him—nothing unusual in the canopy, no figure behind the trunks. The source of the gaze appeared to be outside his field of vision. Which meant the other person was well hidden.

A professional tracker.

He quickly sorted through the possibilities in his mind. There were not many people in Leaf Village who would send someone to follow a six-year-old orphan. The Third Hokage had the ability, but would not do something like this. He was too aboveboard; if he wanted to question Shinichi, he would directly send someone to summon him. ANBU answered to the Hokage and would not secretly monitor a civilian child without the Third's authorization. That left only Root. Danzo's people—their tracking style was exactly like this: hiding in an absolute blind spot, recording every action of the target, never revealing themselves, never alerting the target, like a breathing surveillance device.

It had to be Danzo. The disturbance from stealing the scroll last time, saving Yamato, and absorbing the First Hokage's cells had been greater than he had thought. Danzo's sensory unit was no joke. They had definitely detected the First Hokage cell fluctuations. He had ultimately left traces behind.

He washed his hands by the river, stood up, and kicked a stone. Rather than going to the dead stump to train Wood Release as usual, he strolled along the riverbank, occasionally bending down to inspect a pebble before tossing it away. He never once looked back.

After a few seconds or so, the feeling of being watched disappeared. The tracker had withdrawn.

When Shinichi returned to the orphanage, it was still early. The children were playing in the front yard. Little Flower ran over and asked whether he could go catch fireflies with her, and he smiled and agreed. While she went to get the bug net, he returned to his room, pulled out the old coat from the bottom of his wardrobe, and moved all the smoke bombs hidden inside to a deeper place beneath the bedboards. Then he checked the scroll and kunai beneath his pillow and moved them into the gap within the pile of broken boards in the corner.

After checking everything, he sat at the edge of his bed, hands clasped beneath his chin, and began reassessing his current security situation. Root investigating meant Danzo had noticed him. But noticing was not the same as knowing for certain. If they were certain it was him, the people knocking at the door now would not be trackers, but a team in black cloaks and masks arriving directly at the orphanage's front desk to register their stay.

His greatest protective charm right now was not his skill at hiding things, but the Third Hokage. On the surface, the Third treated him politely, but behind that "politeness" was the importance he placed on the Senju bloodline. As long as the Third was still paying attention to him, Danzo would not dare touch him openly. Working in the shadows was Danzo's specialty, but even then, he needed evidence.

So he needed to do three things now—first, stop all Wood Release training that might be detected for the near future. Second, stay calm, lie low, and act like a real six-year-old child. Third, find some cover, or create an opportunity, to make the Third aware of this and reinforce his legal status as someone under the Hokage's protection.

After dinner, he helped the matron dry the dishes. While drying them, he suddenly said, "Matron, I think I saw someone hanging around outside the orphanage today."

The matron was stacking washed bowls onto the shelf without turning around. "Was it someone selling pots? Last time someone said they saw someone lurking around too, but it turned out to be a stray cat trying to steal pickles. There are too many stray cats around here. Even more in spring. They all come out at dusk."

"Not someone selling pots, and not a stray cat." Shinichi handed her a clean, dry bowl. "They were wearing a mask."

The matron paused.

"What kind of mask?"

"Like an animal's face."

The matron finished stacking the bowls, wiped her hands, and fell silent for a while. She had also spent most of her life in Konoha. Perhaps she did not understand all the twists and turns of ninja affairs, but some things did not require knowledge of ninjutsu to understand. In this village, people who wandered around wearing animal masks never seemed to be up to any good.

"Don't go too far when you leave from now on," the matron finally said. "And don't come back too late."

"Okay." Shinichi took the next bowl and continued drying it.

Late at night.

He lay on the hard wooden bed again, but this time he was not thinking about how to sneak out and cause trouble. His thoughts stretched further than before—he had always been thinking about how to grow stronger, how to devour more bloodlines, how to seize important resources before anyone else. But what happened today reminded him of a very simple fact: while he was becoming stronger, his enemies were beginning to pay attention to him as well. Before, he had been in the shadows while his enemies were in the open, and he could pull little tricks whenever he wanted. Now, his enemies were starting to move into the shadows.

He needed to be more careful with every step from now on. It was not that he could not act—it was that he could not act recklessly. Until he found safe cover, Wood Release training would have to shift to indoor theoretical exercises and internal chakra circulation. Not being able to use it outside did not mean he could not practice it in his head. He also needed to alter his routes when leaving, and could no longer repeatedly use the same path.

And he had to start gathering more intelligence. What did Root's people look like? How many were there? What rank were they? What ninjutsu did they use? Right now, all he knew was that they wore animal masks. That was not enough. He could not stop practicing with shuriken either. But he could not do it in the same place every time. He could switch to the orphanage backyard and throw stones with the other children. He was practicing feel, not lethality.

There were still a few months until the Ninja Academy's enrollment day. He still had one winter.

One winter was enough.

At dinner, the matron gave him an extra multigrain bun. Not because he had been good, but because there was a pile of clothes for him to wash after dinner. This was advance payment for the work. The orphanage had been short-handed lately, and the matron had started treating the older children like half-grown adults. Shinichi accepted without complaint, rubbing sheets as he pondered: after washing the sheets, would that grassy scent be washed away too?

Probably not.

Because that scent seeped from his body. It had not rubbed off from the cloth.

He rubbed the sheet a few more times, then suddenly made a joke to himself. If he was ever exposed one day, he could say it was not his Senju bloodline awakening—he had just accidentally gotten the genes of Konoha's greenbelt on himself. The result was the same anyway.

On a nearby tree, a sparrow tilted its head as it watched him wash sheets, probably wondering why this person was smiling while he worked.