Hiruzen did not stop. It was as if once the dam had cracked, everything he had suppressed for decades was finally pouring out, he was unstoppable.
"When Danzo began spreading rumors about Sakumo," he said hoarsely, "I knew. I knew everything. Every whisper, every accusation, every carefully planted lie." His fingers dug into his sleeves as if trying to anchor himself. "And yet… I supported it."
His voice trembled, not with anger, but with shame.
"Sakumo's influence was growing too strong," he admitted. "He was admired, trusted, followed. Shinobi listened to him more than they listened to the Hokage. In my twisted thinking, I saw him as another imbalance, another pillar that did not answer to me." He let out a shaky breath. "So I told myself that the rumors were necessary. That they would 'temper' him. That he would endure it, as heroes always do."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"But then the news came. Sakumo Hatake… committed suicide."
The words sounded heavier now, as if they had never truly lost their weight.
"That was the moment reality came crashing down on me," Hiruzen continued. "I finally understood something I had refused to see. It was not Danzo who was corroding the village." His hand pressed against his chest. "It was me, my greed, my desire for control and my fear of being overshadowed."
His shoulders shook.
"I never expected Sakumo to die. Never." His voice broke. "He was a hero of the village. He deserved gratitude, honor and respect." His eyes lifted, glistening. "He deserved… to be the Fourth Hokage."
That admission sent a quiet ripple through those listening.
"With his death," Hiruzen went on, "I realized what I had done. One of our strongest combatants was gone. A man who could have saved hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives in future wars." He clenched his teeth. "His death alone weakened the village more than any enemy attack ever could."
His breath grew uneven.
"For the first time, I truly understood that my actions, my inaction, had put the village in danger."
He paused only briefly before continuing, as if afraid that stopping would rob him of the courage to speak.
"That was when I tried to curb Danzo. I tried to rein him in, to stop his excesses." His lips twisted painfully. "But by then, he was already too deep in the darkness and so was I."
Hiruzen's gaze dropped to the ground.
"With helplessness came guilt," he said quietly. "Because it was I who pushed my friend into that darkness. I created the conditions that allowed him to become what he is." His voice lowered further. "And because of that guilt, I could never truly act against him. I could never bring myself to end him, to expose him fully, to put a complete stop to his activities."
He swallowed hard.
"That guilt cost me another precious thing." His eyes closed. "My dear disciple, the apple of my eye, Orochimaru."
Hiruzen's face twisted as if the name itself burned.
"I discovered long ago what Orochimaru and Danzo were doing with Hashirama-sama's cells," he confessed. "I knew. And at first… I allowed it." His hands trembled openly now. "I told myself it was for the village. That if we could create another Wood Release user, it would strengthen us immeasurably."
A sharp, self-directed scoff escaped him.
"But when I finally woke up, when I truly looked, I saw the carnage. The experiments, the bodies and the lives that were destroyed." His voice cracked. "That was when I finally understood how far I had fallen."
Hiruzen drew in a shaky breath.
"That was what made me decide to step down. To pass the Hokage's hat to Minato." His eyes softened at the name. "He was everything I was no longer. Brave, decisive, selfless. I believed that with him, the village would heal."
Silence swallowed the clearing as he continued.
"But tragedy struck again and Minato died." His shoulders sagged. "And once more, I had to step up."
He shook his head slowly.
"When I took the position again, I did everything in my power to stop Danzo. I truly did." His voice grew weary. "But by then, the damage was already done. The Uchiha were on the brink of rebellion. Distrust had taken root too deeply."
His eyes lifted, scanning Kagami… then Ren.
"And then I realized something else," Hiruzen said softly. "You were planning something. Both of you." A faint, rueful smile appeared. "So I decided to wait and watch. To let you act."
His hands clenched.
"I told myself that it was wisdom. That I was giving the next generation room to move. But the truth…" His voice faltered. "The truth is that I hesitated again. I wanted you to succeed so that I wouldn't have to act."
Tears finally spilled freely down his cheeks.
"I wanted someone else to fix what I had broken."
His shoulders shook as he covered his face with one hand.
"Homura once said I was strong," Hiruzen whispered. "But he was wrong." He shook his head weakly. "I am not strong. I am weak. I am pathetic."
His voice dropped to a broken murmur.
"I don't deserve to be the hero people make me out to be."
The confession lingered in the night air, heavy, raw, and impossible to take back.
For a long while after Hiruzen finished speaking, no one said anything.
The clearing felt unnaturally still, as if even the night insects had decided to listen. Smoke from burned earth and shattered trees drifted lazily through the air, mixing with the faint metallic scent of blood and chakra residue. Everyone present, Kagami, Danzo, Juichi and Utakata were looking at Hiruzen, measuring him in silence.
Especially Kagami.
If Hiruzen's words were meant for anyone, they were meant for him.
Kagami's expression was unreadable. His face was calm, almost eerily so, but the chakra around him told a different story. It rolled and shifted like a restrained storm, heavy and suffocating, the kind that promised destruction if given even the smallest excuse. For a moment, it seemed like he might finally speak, might finally let loose everything he had bottled up for more than a decade.
But before anyone else could break the silence, Hiruzen spoke again.
"I have already accepted my faults," he said quietly, his voice steadier now, stripped of its earlier tremor. "And I am working, truly working, to make amends for my actions and my inactions."
He straightened slightly, old bones creaking under the movement, and lifted his gaze.
"However," he continued, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion etched into his face, "now that all the truth has been laid bare, I want to know something."
His gaze shifted, first to Kagami, then to Danzo, who was still firmly restrained by Ren.
"What secrets are you two keeping?"
The question landed heavily, not as an accusation, but as a demand. Not the Hokage speaking to subordinates, but an old man confronting the ghosts that had haunted his rule.
Ren watched the exchange from besides Danzo with a handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth which he had taken out again. He paused, slowly lowering his hand as he looked at Hiruzen.
For a brief moment, he actually considered the man in front of him, not as the Third Hokage, not as a legendary shinobi, but as a deeply flawed old man who had made catastrophic mistakes and was now standing amidst the ruins of his own choices.
And then… he felt nothing.
No anger, no sympathy, no righteous fury, not even disappointment.
Just indifference.
Ren leaned back slightly as his thoughts drifted.
Hiruzen was guilty, there was no denying that. Guilty of allowing the Senju to wither away. Guilty of letting Danzo fester and rot in the shadows. Guilty of pushing the Uchiha into a corner and then pretending not to see the walls closing in. Guilty of Sakumo's death, whether directly or indirectly.
But what did that change?
Nothing.
It was all already done.
Hiruzen couldn't be punished, not truly. He was too strong, too important, too deeply embedded into the very foundation of the village. No tribunal would ever touch him. No executioner would ever raise a blade against him. At most, he would step aside, stained but intact, leaving behind a complicated legacy wrapped neatly in honor and regret.
Just like canon.
Ren exhaled softly through his nose, a faintly amused smile tugging at his lips.
Hiruzen would die a hero anyway. Probably fighting Orochimaru. Probably giving a dramatic speech about protecting the village until his last breath. The history books would be kind to him. They always were.
All this guilt, all this confession, it was just… noise.
If Tsunade were here, she might have reacted differently. She might have screamed, she might have smashed the ground beneath Hiruzen's feet. Hell, she might have even tried to kill him on the spot. But even she, for all her anger, had likely already figured out the truth long ago.
She was too smart not to and yet she hadn't acted. Because in the end, Hiruzen was still her Sensei.
People always found excuses for the ones they loved.
Ren tossed another piece of popcorn into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
For him, though?
This wasn't about justice or closure or even revenge.
This was history class with front-row seats.
A bit of entertainment, a bit of context and some missing puzzle pieces finally snapping into place.
Nothing more.
He glanced between Kagami and Danzo, eyes sharp behind his sunglasses, and wondered idly which of them would speak first.
Whatever secrets they were hiding… he had a feeling they were going to be far more interesting than Hiruzen's guilt-ridden monologue.
Ren rolled that thought around for a second, then decided on an order of operations.
Danzo first.
After all, Danzo wasn't a mystery anymore. Ren already knew him inside and out, his fear, his envy, his obsessive need to steal what he lacked. Kagami, on the other hand, was a sealed book with torn pages and missing chapters. It made far more sense to deal with the boring, predictable trash before getting to the real story.
So Ren spoke.
"Actually," he said lazily, waving his hand as if brushing aside an inconvenience, "let's clear this one up first."
He pointed down at Danzo, who was still half-restrained, half-collapsed on the ground, his breathing uneven, his single visible eye darting around like a trapped animal.
"This guy?" Ren continued casually. "He's really not that surprising."
He tilted his head, examining Danzo the way one might examine a poorly made tool.
"He's just a pathetic whelp with a lifelong inferiority complex. Against old man Hiruzen, against the Sharingan, against anyone who was stronger than him, smarter than him, or more respected than him." Ren shrugged. "Which is… many people."
Danzo's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt. For once, silence was his safest option.
"So," Ren went on, pacing a step or two, popcorn bucket still tucked under his arm, "what does a man like that do when he realizes he can't win fairly?"
Ren snapped his fingers lightly.
"He steals."
He gestured vaguely at Danzo's arm, still exposed, still pulsing faintly with unnatural vitality.
"He researches the Sharingan, he researches Hashirama's cells. He experiments, mutilates, justifies it all in the name of the village." Ren scoffed softly. "And of course, he tells himself that everything he does is necessary."
Ren's gaze shifted, finally landing on Kagami.
"And among the people he knew," Ren continued, voice calm but sharp, "who had the strongest Sharingan?"
He pointed directly at Kagami.
"Commander," Ren asked, tone deceptively light, "is Danzo the one who killed you?"
For a fraction of a second, the clearing seemed to hold its breath.
Kagami didn't answer immediately.
He stood there, eyes lowered, fingers resting loosely against the hilt of his blade. The anger around him hadn't vanished, but it had settled, condensing into something heavier, denser. When he finally lifted his gaze, there was no hesitation in his eyes.
He nodded once.
"Yes."
The word was simple and final.
Hiruzen stiffened.
Ren noticed it, of course, the slight widening of the eyes, the faint hitch in his breath. Even after everything that had been revealed tonight, even after all his guilt and self-recrimination, that confirmation still struck hard.
Kagami glanced briefly at Hiruzen, then back at the ground in front of him, as if aligning his thoughts.
"Yes," Kagami repeated, his voice steady. "It was him."
He took a slow breath, then stepped forward and sat down on a broken stone, the movement unhurried and deliberate, like someone finally deciding it was time to speak after years of silence.
"We were on a mission," Kagami began.
Ren leaned forward slightly, interest sharpening. Even Hiruzen found himself unable to look away.
"A secret mission," Kagami continued. "The kind that never makes it into records. Me and him."
His gaze flicked briefly to Danzo, cold and distant.
"The objective was to eliminate a group of nobles," Kagami said, voice even, "men who were pushing relentlessly for another war. Not for the village, not for security, but for profit, influence and power."
A faint, humorless smile touched Kagami's lips.
"They wanted blood to fill their coffers."
He paused, then continued.
"I didn't question the mission. At the time, I believed it was necessary. Removing them would prevent thousands of deaths down the line." Kagami's fingers curled slightly. "And Danzo… he agreed. Or at least, he pretended to."
Danzo's eye twitched.
"The mission went smoothly," Kagami said. "Too smoothly. We infiltrated, eliminated the targets one by one. There were no resistance, no complications." His voice lowered. "That should have been my first warning."
Kagami closed his eyes for a moment.
"When we were done, when I finally lowered my guard."
He inhaled sharply.
"I didn't expect him to move."
The air felt colder.
"I didn't expect him to draw a kunai," Kagami said quietly. "And I certainly didn't expect him to drive it straight through my heart."
Hiruzen sucked in a breath despite himself.
Danzo's lips parted, as if to speak, but no sound came out.
"I remember the moment clearly," Kagami continued, eyes opening again. "Not the pain, the shock." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I was confused. I actually thought it was a mistake at first."
His gaze hardened.
"But when I looked into his eyes, there was no confusion there. Only resolve and hunger."
~~~~~
{Well, the plot thickens and we'll finally know what happened.}
{300 done on Pat! So proud of myself. Praise me mortals.}