Outside Konoha, at the Fire Daimyō's relay station.
The Daimyō had finally awoken from his genjutsu-induced coma. But as an ordinary man with no real training or stamina, the aftereffects still lingered, even with medical ninjutsu treatment. His head throbbed, and the dizziness refused to fade.
Groaning, the Daimyō rubbed his temples and sluggishly sat up in bed.
"Wait a minute… wasn't I watching that Uzu-something kid fight… uh… what's-his-name again?"
He tried hard to recall Gaara's name, but after a long struggle, gave up and mentally labeled him as that guy.
Just as he came to, Danzō rushed in, breathless and dramatic.
"Grave news, grave news! Daimyō-sama, at last, you've awakened!" Danzō announced with his usual exaggerated tone.
"Elder Danzō? What's going on?"
The Daimyō blinked, bewildered.
What does he mean, 'grave news'? And why does he sound like me waking up is bad news? Wouldn't he be happier if I didn't wake up?
At that moment, one of the Daimyō's personal attendants leaned in and whispered a quick report into his ear.
Finally, the Daimyō began to piece together the situation—though Danzō wasn't about to miss his chance at center stage.
According to Danzō's account, the arena had been attacked by enemy shinobi, and only through his desperate bravery had he and his men managed to save the Daimyō's life, escorting him here safely.
Then came the shocking revelation: the Sand had betrayed their alliance with Konoha, colluding with the Leaf's own S-class traitor Orochimaru and the Sound to launch a surprise invasion. The village was engulfed in war, and even the Third Hokage himself had perished in battle.
The flood of news left the Daimyō reeling, unable to process it all at once.
At length, he sank into deep thought over a very serious matter:
Sand ninja? Uh… where are they from again? The Land of Water? Or maybe the Land of Earth?
Danzō spent quite a while explaining before the Daimyō finally grasped the situation.
Konoha had been overrun. The Hokage was dead. A successor needed to be chosen immediately—or the village would be lost for good.
The situation was dire.
"Daimyō-sama, about the candidate for the Fifth Hokage…" Danzō's single eye gleamed, fixed on the Daimyō as he waited for the verdict.
Ever since the crisis began, he had stuck to the Daimyō like glue, attending to his every need with obsequious care. For a man like Danzō, this level of bowing and scraping was unprecedented—except, perhaps, in front of Naruto.
After all, this was the key to his life's ambition.
As for sending Root to reinforce the front lines? Nonsense. The bloodier the fighting, the fewer survivors remained, the better. That way, his path to the Hokage's seat would be unobstructed.
What became of Konoha itself didn't matter in the slightest.
What mattered was him becoming Hokage.
Once he took the title, he believed firmly that under his rule, Konoha would rise to become the greatest shinobi village in the world.
It was the "truth" he had clung to all his life.
"Elder Danzō… surely there are others qualified as well? That Kakashi fellow seems quite capable," the Daimyō replied, lazily fanning himself while a servant massaged his aching temples.
As Fire Daimyō, he honestly didn't care much who wore the Hokage hat, as long as the Hokage was strong enough to keep him comfortable and safe.
"Kakashi is certainly talented," Danzō snapped quickly, "but he is far too young. He lacks the authority to command the village."
In truth, if Kakashi ever dared to accept the role, Danzō would personally draft the "Kakashi Assassination Plan" the very same day.
"What about Sarutobi Asuma? He's the Third's son, and one of the Twelve Guardian Ninja."
"He's far too weak. He could never bear the weight of Hokage."
"Then… perhaps recall young Tsunade?" the Daimyō suggested.
"Impossible," Danzō countered immediately. "Not only is her whereabouts unknown, but by the time she returned, Konoha would already be in enemy hands."
He pressed harder and harder, desperate to corner the Daimyō into naming him.
This was the only chance he would ever have. He'd prepared too long, schemed too much, to let it slip away to that woman. She had abandoned the village—let her stay gone forever.
"What we need is someone powerful, respected, and experienced enough to carry the mantle," Danzō declared.
He was one step away from grabbing the Daimyō by the collar and shouting: Pick me, pick me, pick me! The Fifth Hokage must be me—only me!
"Uh… well…" The Daimyō stammered, unable to produce any new names. Every candidate he mentioned, Danzō shot down. And now, racking his brain, he honestly couldn't think of anyone left.
Jiraiya? The name didn't even come to him. To the Daimyō, wasn't Jiraiya just the man who wrote Icha Icha Paradise?
What? He was a ninja? From Konoha?
It wasn't that the Daimyō objected to Danzō becoming Hokage—it was that he simply didn't care. So long as the Hokage was strong enough to let him continue his indulgent lifestyle, any candidate would do. But the problem was, Danzō's appearance was… unconvincing.
An old man, missing half an arm, one eye, wrapped head to toe in bandages, radiating "expendable extra" energy.
Not exactly the image of strength or reliability.
Especially now—what if he got too worked up and suddenly dropped dead right in front of the Daimyō? Wouldn't that be embarrassing?
For all his flaws, at least the Third had looked more dignified, even with his age spots.
Still, someone had to be chosen. Between Danzō and those two cowardly advisors who had fled the instant the fighting broke out, the Daimyō figured he might as well pick Danzō.
At least he could fight. That was better than running away.
So, after much pestering and persuasion, the Daimyō reluctantly agreed.
"Very well then, Elder Danzō. The burden of the Fifth Hokage shall be entrusted to you." The Daimyō waved his fan airily, though in his eyes, even the oversized, silly fan above his own head seemed more dignified than Danzō's bandaged form.
What he was really thinking was: Hurry and train up a Sixth Hokage as soon as possible.
"Rest assured, Daimyō-sama. Leave Konoha to me," Danzō beamed, his smile blooming like a gaudy flower.
What he was really thinking was: Rest assured, I'll keep this seat for at least thirty years.
"Thank you for your faith. I will lead Konoha's shinobi to drive out those Sand dogs and restore our village's glory. Under my leadership, Konoha will grow stronger than ever, and rise as the supreme Hidden Village."
As they spoke, both he and the Daimyō turned their eyes toward Konoha.
And just then, in their stunned gaze, a massive mushroom cloud rose over the village's location. A roaring shockwave followed, kicking up a sky-darkening sandstorm that shook the earth itself.
Konoha was gone.
The Daimyō: "…"
Danzō: "Geh—?!"
His voice cut off mid-squawk, strangled like a duck grabbed by the throat.
"W-Where's… where's my entire Konoha?"
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