Chapter 96: An Audience with Danzō
Because the column was slowed by the presence of wounded shinobi and orphans, the return to Konoha took several extra days.
When Nan finally crossed the gates of the village, he felt an odd sense of dislocation, as though he had been away for years. The last time he came back, he had yet to taste true battle; the village then felt unchanged, almost mundane. This time was different. After weeks of unrelenting combat, his nerves had been strung taut. Now, stepping once more into the familiar streets, his body finally let go of that tension.
It was true—no matter how strong or unyielding a person might be, everyone needed a safe harbor to rest. Without it, even the strongest would eventually break.
After bidding farewell to his teammates, Nan started toward his home. But before he could get far, two masked ANBU appeared, blocking his path.
"Uchiha Nan, you'll come with us. Lord Danzō requests your presence."
Their tone was commanding, almost imperious.
Nan stifled a yawn, his expression weary and unamused. Really? Of all times? After marching for days, bone-tired and aching, now he wants to see me? This old man is unbearable.
Still, his sharp eyes caught the faint sheen of sweat on the ANBU's hands as they hovered near their weapons pouches. They were nervous—terrified even—but unwilling to disobey Danzō's order. If Nan resisted, they would attack without hesitation.
If I make a scene here in the middle of the village, it'll cause trouble, Nan thought. Fine. I'll play along. He'll ask about Uchiha Han, and I'll just give him nothing but shrugs.
He let them blindfold him, offering no resistance as they escorted him into the Root base.
As expected, the first words out of Danzō's mouth were about Han.
Why had Han defected?
"I don't know."
How had he awakened the Mangekyō?
"I don't know."
Did Nan know where Han was now?
"I don't know."
Danzō's questions earned him nothing but blank denials. And truthfully, Nan's answers were hard to dispute. When Han had fled, Nan was still just a child at the Academy. How could he possibly know the secrets of a Mangekyō? And as for Han's current whereabouts—if the entire shinobi world couldn't find him, why would a six-year-old boy know?
Danzō had half-expected as much. No matter how talented Nan was, he was still a child; the elders of the Uchiha would never confide their plans to him.
But that wasn't the real reason Danzō had summoned him. What he wanted was to recruit Nan into Root. Hiruzen had refused, but if Nan himself agreed, even the Hokage would be hard-pressed to object.
So Danzō softened his voice, playing the part of the kindly elder offering sweets to a child:
"Uchiha Nan, with your talent, Root can provide training far beyond what the Academy or your clan can offer. If you join us, you'll have access to countless secret and forbidden techniques. I will personally ensure you receive the highest level of guidance. You could achieve greatness beyond imagination."
Nan sneered inwardly. So that's it. He wants me under his thumb. As if I'd ever crawl into his den of snakes.
He knew Danzō well enough by now. Ever since Nan had returned from the mission against Suna, the man had tried to trip him up in the shadows more than once—plots that Nan had narrowly avoided with instinct and raw power. Now that killing him outright had failed, Danzō was trying a different approach: control.
Feigning distraction, Nan tilted his head and asked blankly:
"Eh? What was that, Lord Danzō? I wasn't paying attention. Could you repeat it?"
Patient as if humoring a child, Danzō obliged:
"I'm asking if you'd be willing to join Root, to accept our training."
Nan scratched his head and frowned.
"Root is part of ANBU, isn't it? But I've never really wanted to join ANBU. They all have to wear masks all the time… like those two who dragged me here.
Look at me, Lord Danzō. I'm way too handsome to waste this face behind a mask."
He gave a dismissive sniff, even picking his nose for emphasis.
"So, no thanks. But I appreciate the offer."
In truth, Nan cared little for Danzō's promises. Secret jutsu? Forbidden arts? With his position under Hiruzen, he'd gain access eventually anyway. And Danzō's assurances meant nothing—empty words from a man who would gladly stab him in the back.
He wasn't interested. Not in the slightest.
Danzō wasn't fooled. He could hear the deliberate evasions in Nan's words and finally realized the boy was playing him.
Damn brat, he cursed inwardly. To brush me off with such a ridiculous excuse…
His temper flared, but outwardly he kept his mask of grandfatherly kindness. With children, brute force often failed; coaxing and persuasion worked better. He tried again, his tone gentle, attempting to reel Nan in with promises and subtle guidance.
But no matter what he said, Nan firmly refused. Deep down, Nan even mocked him:
Your brainwashing skills are pathetic compared to Orochimaru's—and even he couldn't get his hooks into me. You think you can? With your obsession with curse marks and control, you'd better go practice for another hundred years before trying me.
When Danzō opened his mouth to press further, Nan stifled a yawn, his voice thick with feigned fatigue.
"Anyway, I've no intention of joining ANBU—at least not right now.
I just got back from a long march. I'm exhausted and want to sleep. Forgive me, Lord Danzō, but I'll be taking my leave."
Before Danzō could react, Nan formed a quick seal and vanished in a flash of Flying Thunder God, reappearing instantly in his own home.
Danzō's hand twitched, ready to block, but it was too late—the boy was already gone.
He's mastered Hiraishin to this degree? Danzō thought grimly. Though it hadn't been in combat, his own reaction speed was far from slow, and yet he hadn't been able to stop him. At this level, Nan was close to using the technique effectively in real battle.
Controlling someone like him… is nearly impossible. If one day I'm forced to confront him directly, I'll need to carefully consider whether I even have the ability. To capture or kill him will require a much more careful plan.
Back in his own home, Nan found the place thick with dust after his long absence. He switched on the lights and, before resting, summoned a few Shadow Clones. With the most practical ninjutsu in existence lending a hand, the cleaning was finished in no time.
Just as he set his tools aside and was about to collapse into bed, the doorbell rang.
"MMP—seriously? Who the hell is it now? Can't a guy get some sleep?"
Fuming, Nan stomped downstairs and yanked open the door—only to instantly transform his expression into one of surprise and delight.
"Clan Head! What brings you to my home? Please, come in at once."
The visitor was none other than Uchiha Fugaku. Nan hurriedly ushered him inside.