Root's Probe

On the way home from the training ground, the sky had already darkened.

As Takuma passed the barbecue restaurant, he was still wondering what to do with the purple shorts in his ninja pouch. Burning them would be a waste, but keeping them would be impossible to explain. He decided to stuff them into the very back of his closet and never let anyone else see them.

The shops on either side of the street were gradually lighting up. The sign for Ichiraku Ramen stood out in particular. Teuchi was hanging a new curtain by the entrance when he saw Takuma pass and called out, "Takuma, kid, you're getting home late!"

"Just finished training." Takuma waved to show he wasn't stopping for ramen tonight.

Teuchi looked disappointed, then turned back to the curtain.

After Takuma turned into the alley leading to the residential district, the crowds thinned noticeably. Even during the day, few people used this alley, and after dark it was quieter still. The backs of warehouses lined both sides, with no windows. The only light came from a streetlamp hanging on a utility pole overhead, flickering faintly due to a loose connection.

As Takuma walked, his brow furrowed slightly.

It was too quiet. He didn't know why he could sense such a subtle abnormality. Maybe it was some keen instinct brought on by his Senju Bloodline. Or maybe he'd simply become more sensitive to things like "killing intent" after the mission in the Land of Waves.

Whatever the reason, he chose to trust his instincts.

Takuma didn't stop walking or speed up. He kept his breathing steady, his right hand hanging naturally at his side, his fingers already resting on the clasp of his ninja pouch.

Two ninjas dropped down from the wall, wearing standard Anbu uniforms.

"Mori Takuma." The one on the left wore a cat mask. His voice held no emotion. "Come with us."

As Takuma looked at the two before him, several thoughts flashed through his mind. Root? They'd come for him because of his Senju Bloodline. After the mission in the Land of Waves, the Medical Corps had noticed how quickly he recovered. The news had probably reached Danzo's ears before long. The Third Hokage had said his bloodline couldn't stay hidden for long, but Takuma hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

"Do you have an order from Lord Hokage?" Takuma asked.

There was no change in the eyes behind the cat mask. He raised his right hand, palm open, revealing a black token resting in it.

"Root doesn't need the Hokage's orders to carry out a mission. You just need to obey."

Takuma fell silent for two seconds. There was no way he could fight them head-on. The two were at least Chunin-level, and there were probably more of them. He took a deep breath and moved his hand away from his ninja pouch.

"Let's go."

The cat-masked ninja glanced at him, then turned and headed for the end of the alley. The one wearing a fox mask stepped aside to let Takuma through, signaling for him to follow. As Takuma started walking, he sensed another presence behind him. Sure enough, a third person was blocking his way back.

They didn't take a regular route. The cat-masked ninja led the way and pushed open an unremarkable wooden door. Beyond it was a stone staircase leading underground. Oil lamps were embedded in the walls at regular intervals, their flames burning silently. The air smelled of old wood, mixed with the faintest trace of rust.

The underground facility was much larger than Takuma had expected. The corridors branched in every direction, with heavy iron doors lining both sides. Every so often, he heard muffled voices or the mechanical whir of ninja tools behind them. Every Root member they passed walked with their eyes fixed straight ahead, their pace and stride almost identical, like puppets controlled by the same program.

Takuma couldn't help thinking that this place was even more oppressive than a prison.

The cat-masked ninja stopped in front of a heavy iron door. He didn't knock, simply taking his place to one side. The fox-masked ninja stepped back as well. The iron door opened automatically with a dull metallic scrape.

The room was small. It held a wooden table and two chairs, and there were no windows. The only light came from an oil lamp on the table. Its wick had been trimmed very short, so the light barely reached the tabletop, leaving the corners of the room in shadow.

Someone was sitting in one of the chairs.

Bandages covered his right eye and half his head. The exposed left side of his face was wrinkled, his mouth turned slightly down at the corners. He wore a dark kimono, with both hands resting on his cane. The skin on the back of his hand was dry as bark. His one visible eye looked at Takuma. "Sit."

Takuma sat across from him. His instincts told him that the more he said in front of this man, the more likely he was to make a mistake.

"Mori Takuma." Danzo spoke his name slowly, as if savoring the taste of the surname. "Morimiya. Interesting."

"Your father is Mori Kazuki. He runs a bookstore. Your mother is a civilian. The only ninjas registered in your family are two generations of father and son."

"After the Senju Clan dissolved, many of its members chose to live under assumed names. They changed their surnames, blended in with civilians, and lived quietly in the corners of Konoha." Danzo's cane tapped lightly against the floor with a dull thud. "Your family, the Morimiyas, is one of them."

Danzo leaned forward slightly. The oil lamp's flame flickered at his movement, and the shadows in the room shifted with it. "A descendant of the Senju... Would you be willing to join Root and contribute your strength to Konoha?"

Takuma met his visible eye. It felt as if a stone were pressing down on his chest, but he forced himself to keep his voice steady.

"I'm already carrying out missions as a ninja."

"Those make-believe missions."

Danzo cut him off. His voice was calm, but laced with unquestionable contempt.

"D-rank missions. C-rank missions. Finding cats, pulling weeds, guarding merchant caravans." Danzo shook his head. "A waste. The Senju bloodline shouldn't be wasted like this. Root can make you stronger—truly strong. Konoha needs people like you, but the Third Hokage's lenient policies can't draw out your full potential. He's too kind!"

"Too kind to train real ninjas," Takuma finished for him.

Danzo's visible eye narrowed slightly.

The room fell silent for a moment. Danzo liked clever people—or, rather, people who could follow his logic. But finishing his sentence didn't mean Takuma was safe. If anything, Danzo might be even more interested in him now.

Just as Takuma was frantically trying to figure out how to get out without provoking Danzo, the iron door swung open.

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, stood in the doorway. He wore his Hokage robes and hat, and held a pipe in his hand. Smoke drifted slowly from the shadow beneath his hat, its color somewhere between blue and gray in the dim light.

"Danzo." The Third Hokage's voice was hoarse but clear. "This boy is outside your jurisdiction."

Danzo didn't stand. He simply leaned back in his chair. "It's not often the Third Hokage comes to Root to demand someone back."

"What's unusual isn't me coming to take someone back." The Third Hokage stepped into the room and lightly tapped his pipe against the edge of the table. A pinch of ash fell onto it. "Don't go behind my back to approach ninjas."

Takuma sat between the two men, perfectly still. This kind of confrontation was beyond a Genin like him. All he could do was make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

The Third Hokage was the first to look away. He turned to Takuma, his expression softening a little. "Takuma, let's go."

Takuma stood. As he reached the Third Hokage's side, he looked back once. Danzo had already closed his eyes. Nothing in his deeply wrinkled face betrayed any emotion, as if their conversation had never happened.

The oil lamps in the corridor still burned silently. The Third Hokage walked ahead at an unhurried pace, every step steady. Takuma followed without a word. They passed through the winding corridors, climbed the stone stairs to the surface, and pushed open the outermost wooden door.

Only when the cold night air filled his lungs did Takuma realize how stuffy the underground facility had been.