The one who spoke was none other than Sarutobi Kasuru.
This young man had been listening carefully throughout the entire trial, never missing a detail. His sharp eyes followed every movement, every exchange, every subtle shift in tone. By now, he already understood everything that had transpired in the previous accusations brought against Shimura Danzo. He pieced together the truth behind the scenes—the orders, the provocation, and the cover-ups.
It was Danzo Shimura who had instructed Aburame Ryoma to provoke Uchiha Yato. Sarutobi Kasuru also realized the cruel irony: Ryoma and Hyuga Boya had merely been used as disposable substitutes, pawns in a much larger scheme.
The trial, however, tried to brush off these crimes as a matter of poor discipline. In the final summary, Danzo's defenders downplayed his role, insisting that Aburame Ryoma was "still young" and that the incident had been his own reckless behavior.
When Kasuru heard this, his anger boiled over. He could no longer sit still, could no longer pretend to accept such an injustice. The fury surged through him uncontrollably, and before he even realized it, he was standing and shouting at the top of his lungs:
"I disagree with the verdict!"
His words, sharp and unyielding, cut through the heavy silence of the courtroom like a blade.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Everyone who had thought the trial was finally over—everyone who had been ready to breathe a sigh of relief—suddenly froze. The mood changed from resignation to uncertainty, from apathy to excitement.
On the dais, Uchiha Yato narrowed his eyes. He could barely contain his grin. Until this moment, he had only managed to fleece this courtroom once. Now, thanks to Sarutobi Kasuru's bold outcry, he realized he could fleece them twice. Opportunity had come knocking a second time, and Yato had no intention of letting it slip away.
Up on the high seat, Sarutobi Hiruzen was struck speechless. He had anticipated opposition, but never expected it to come from within his own clan, and from his own nephew no less. The Hokage's gaze flickered uncertainly. A thousand emotions warred inside him—shock, pride, worry, and above all, helplessness.
As for Danzo Shimura, his face twisted in humiliation. He had already endured nearly two hours of public disgrace since the trial began, his reputation dragged through the mud in front of both villagers and clans alike. He had clung to the hope that it would end soon, that the worst was behind him. Yet now, because of a single young man's defiance, the torment threatened to stretch on even longer.
The entire courtroom trembled with shifting moods.
Uchiha Yato seized the moment. Rising to his feet, he spread his hands and declared in a steady, commanding voice:
"Do not be afraid! If there is any injustice, we will speak up for you. This is your chance—say everything you want to say out loud!"
The words were like a spark falling into dry grass.
"Ding~"
The system's crisp notification rang in Yato's ears:
"Congratulations to the host for breaking the defense of Konoha F4. Obtained 200 emotion coins."
"Congratulations to the host for causing the mood changes of Uchiha Kai and others. Obtained 50 emotion coins."
Suppressing the smirk that tugged at his lips, Yato leaned back. The trial was spiraling just as he wanted.
Sarutobi Kasuru, emboldened by Yato's encouragement, thought back to the events of the past few days. He recalled the whispered conversations with Uchiha Ren, the injustices linked to Danzo, and the looming sense of dread that such a man still held power in the village. The more he thought, the heavier the weight pressed on his heart.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice steady but charged with emotion:
"The punishment is too light. He deliberately chose Hinata Boya and me as the targets of his scheme. If he can so easily use us, what about others? What if next time it is someone weaker, someone without a clan behind them? Will they simply be abandoned?"
He paused, scanning the room. His next words carried a weight that seemed to strike at every listener's heart:
"Remember this: if I stand by and watch today, no one will cheer for me tomorrow!"
The effect was immediate. His words spread through the crowd like ripples on water. Even Hinata Boya, who had hesitated until now, suddenly clenched his fists and stood straighter, his eyes burning with renewed determination.
The staff of the Uchiha clan exchanged meaningful glances. Yes, this was exactly the kind of unyielding spirit they admired—this sounded like something their clan would have said in the old days. Their blood stirred with pride.
But the ones who felt the impact most keenly were the ordinary villagers sitting in the gallery.
They had no jutsu to rely on, no kekkei genkai to protect them. Their fists were small compared to the ninja around them, their voices weak. In the shinobi world, the one with the greater power decided everything. Was that not the very reason Hashirama Senju and Uchiha Madara had founded Konoha—to end the chaos where the strong preyed upon the weak? Was it not Hashirama's might that kept wars at bay, and Madara's name that struck fear into the other villages?
The villagers understood one thing: if Danzo could manipulate and sacrifice even the heirs of great clans, what protection did ordinary people have? Kasuru's words gave shape to their silent fears and awakened a rare courage within them.
Whispers rose, then voices. Soon, many villagers openly murmured that the verdict was too lenient. Some clenched their fists, some stomped their feet, others nodded fiercely.
There was no need for the two elder advisors to sway the court anymore. The tide had already turned.
At the center of this storm sat Sarutobi Hiruzen, his face a mask of conflict. On one hand, he had to acknowledge that Danzo's repeated failures and manipulations had become too blatant to ignore. On the other, the man was his lifelong comrade, his most loyal supporter, his indispensable right hand. Worse still, his own nephew's words had struck directly at his conscience.
That one line—"If I stand by today, no one will cheer for me tomorrow"—resonated too deeply. It echoed through the chamber, repeated in every villager's heart. Mishandling it now could ignite resentment, not only against Danzo but against the Hokage himself.
After a long, suffocating silence, Sarutobi Hiruzen finally opened his mouth. His tone was weary yet resolute:
"Shimura Danzo's discipline is not strict. He has failed to properly manage the actions of his subordinates, and the effects are plain for all to see. Therefore, Shimura Danzo will now be retried."
Gasps swept through the crowd.
Hiruzen continued, his words heavy as a gavel striking wood:
"He is hereby dismissed from his position as Assistant Hokage. He will be imprisoned in Konoha Prison for three months. Furthermore, the Shimura clan will pay compensation to the Uchiha, Aburame, Hyuga, and Sarutobi clans."
When the final sentence fell, the Hokage exhaled a long breath, as though a great burden had slid from his shoulders.
The trial was officially concluded.
For the villagers, the outcome was explosive news. They left the courtroom buzzing, eager to share what they had witnessed: the Uchiha's role in establishing the trial, the villagers' courage in speaking against injustice, and the Hokage's reluctant but decisive ruling. In every tea shop and market, the story spread like wildfire.
Among them, one figure shone brightest—Sarutobi Kasuru, the nephew who had dared to voice the people's will. In their eyes, he had spoken for them, defended them, embodied their frustration and hopes.
The very next day, villagers began arriving at his home. Some brought baskets of apples, some cabbages and radishes, some jars of pickles or handfuls of coins. Simple gifts, but heartfelt. Their gratitude was sincere, and Sarutobi Kasuru, touched to his core, accepted them with humility.
"This… this is the true spirit of Konoha," he murmured to himself, feeling warmth swell in his chest.
But not everyone shared in this sense of triumph.
In a private chamber within the Hokage's office, Danzo Shimura sat in a dark rage.
"Hiruzen!" he barked, slamming his cane against the floor. "How could you let your nephew humiliate me like this? That boy knows nothing of loyalty, nothing of respect! He dares to flaunt his so-called righteousness while I—I!—sit in prison like a criminal!"
His voice shook with fury, but underneath it trembled a note of bitterness, even grievance.
"And that Uchiha Yato…" Danzo spat the name like poison. "His grin nearly split his face in half! He mocked me in front of everyone, and you—you, my old friend—stood by and laughed with them!"
The anger gave way to a weary, aggrieved tone. It was almost pitiful, almost.
Hiruzen lifted his pipe, exhaled smoke, and replied quietly:
"Enough, Danzo. Take this as a lesson. You've already suffered at Yato's hands before, yet you never learn. Don't provoke him again. I know exactly what this incident was about—your attempt to silence those who still whisper about the aunt you killed, to strike first before they could strike at you. But this… this reckless arrogance has cost you dearly."
Danzo flinched, recognizing the truth in his old friend's words.
Hiruzen's eyes softened slightly. "Still, you are my right hand. Your position as leader of Root will remain. But for now, you must serve this sentence. Three months will pass quickly. Achieve some results in secret, and afterward, I will clear your name before the villagers. You will regain your elder's seat."
Danzo's lips curled into a bitter smile. He had known this would be the outcome. This meeting was less about pleading than about establishing an alibi. His schemes ran deeper than anyone realized.
Meanwhile, on the far edge of Konoha near the Uchiha compound, Uchiha Yato stood face-to-face with three masked men in black.
He cocked his head, unamused. "Alright, alright, drop the act. Don't bother hiding it—you're Danzo's dogs, aren't you? Well then, no need for small talk. Let's begin."
The three men exchanged glances, then launched themselves forward. They avoided flashy techniques, relying instead on basic ninjutsu and quick escape methods—standard tactics for Root operatives who wanted to avoid drawing attention.
But Yato's mind was already set. No one leaves alive.
His eyes whirled into the crimson brilliance of three tomoe. In one fluid motion, his ninja sword flashed, slashing toward the nearest foe.
The Root operatives reacted swiftly, tossing out smoke bombs, unleashing barrages of shuriken, and detonating tags. The air cracked with explosions, flames and dust mixing into chaos.
But Yato was an Uchiha Jonin. Defeating him was not so simple.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Claw Crimson!"
A volley of flaming shuriken burst forth, each carrying lethal heat. They scattered like a rain of fiery blossoms, both elegant and deadly. The combined force of fire and steel made retreat impossible.
Before the enemy could recover, Yato followed with another seal.
"Fire Style: Wildfire!"
A wave of roaring flames surged across the battlefield, the sky itself igniting with a crimson glow. For a moment, Yato looked less like a man and more like a fire demon descending upon his enemies.
The three operatives, well-trained and experienced, countered quickly. They slammed their palms to the ground in unison.
"Water Style: Water Formation Wall!"
Torrents of water rose, colliding with the flames, steam exploding outward in choking clouds. For a heartbeat, they bought themselves breathing room.
But deep down, they knew the truth. They had made a fatal mistake. They should never have trusted Danzo's lies, never accepted this suicidal mission to ambush an Uchiha.
As the steam cleared, despair filled their eyes.
"It's too late to regret now."
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