Danzo merely watched coldly from the sidelines.
He did not care.
All he cared about was whether he would catch any fish today.
The Third Generation did not pursue the subject. He had only come here to have a heart-to-heart with one of his few remaining old friends. It had nothing to do with the village, the war, or their allegiances.
They were simply two old friends who had spent their lives together.
"I'm sorry, Danzo."
The Third Generation's voice drifted softly.
Danzo's hand paused slightly on his fishing rod. He glanced sideways at Hiruzen Sarutobi, a flicker of gravity showing in his lone eye.
"I knew about your experiments long ago. I knew about Orochimaru's experiments back then, too. I also knew you were harming our own people. I indulged you, which essentially made me your accomplice. Yet in the end, you and that student of mine bore all the blame."
The Third Generation chuckled to himself, though his smile was strained.
"But there was no other choice. Konoha needs darkness, but it needs light even more.
As Konoha's light, I cannot fall.
So you alone must shoulder the darkness. The Hokage must be flawless, like pure white jade. The Hokage represents more than the office itself-he also represents the village's faith."
Danzo's gaze shifted slightly.
But he turned back to watch his float without answering.
"We aren't so different at heart. It's actually not so bad for you to stay here. At least you can enjoy your twilight years, and I still have an old friend I can talk to."
The Third Generation smoked, his voice steeped in the weariness of the years.
"You've been under a lot of pressure lately, haven't you?"
Danzo suddenly asked.
The Third Generation nodded. "War is upon us, and I'm old now.