The Hokage's Dilemma
But Sarutobi Hiruzen… was different.
His strength was limited, and his methods lacked sharpness.
No matter how much he preached about the Will of Fire, among Konoha's great clans it had long become a quiet joke—an ideal that sounded noble but served mostly to maintain the Sarutobi clan's influence.
The real reason Hiruzen managed to remain Hokage was simple:
he was trustworthy to the Daimyō of the Land of Fire, and generous to the right people.
Every year, the Daimyō's treasury allocated vast funds to Konoha for "defense and governance."
And every year, Sarutobi and his inner circle—the so-called Konoha F4—took the largest share.
The other major clans, so long as they received a small portion, were content to stay quiet.
But the Uchiha… could never be part of that circle.
First, they refused to integrate into the web of favors and corruption that tied the other clans together.
They stood apart—proud, isolated, and unbending.
And when you're not sharing in the spoils, no one dares call you "one of us."
Second, they weren't like the Hyūga.
The Hyūga clan kept to themselves, bowing politely to the Hokage in public while quietly minding their own affairs behind the safety of their compound.
The Uchiha were different.
They neither bowed nor schemed—they simply stood apart.
And for Sarutobi Hiruzen, a lone wolf that refused the leash could only be dealt with one way: quietly and efficiently.
Yet even after years of political suppression, the Uchiha's unreasonable power refused to fade.
Each war, every battlefront, saw new pairs of Sharingan eyes opening—eyes that gleamed with both sorrow and defiance.
And now, this letter in his hand…
A student—a so-called "useless" Uchiha from the Academy—had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan on the battlefield.
Hiruzen's face twisted with dark frustration.
All those years of subtle control, all those whispered restrictions, and still the clan continued to evolve.
Even under Fugaku's timid leadership, the Uchiha flame refused to die out.
His grip on the letter tightened.
> "Uchiha Jin…"
He murmured the name with quiet venom. His mind began to race.
Should I win him over?
Or eliminate him quietly before he becomes another Obito?
If it comes to a fight… can I even be sure of victory?
He exhaled slowly. Perhaps, he thought bitterly, he had made a mistake from the beginning.
He'd dismissed Jin as a weakling—a poor student with no potential—unworthy of notice.
He'd ignored the boy's words about the Will of Fire back in the Academy, assuming they were empty idealism.
Now, that "useless" boy possessed a power capable of reshaping Konoha itself.
And worse still—Jin had no ties.
No parents.
No surviving relatives.
No clan attachment strong enough to bind him.
He had been assigned to a cannon fodder squad with no emotional bonds between teammates.
A man like that—alone, unattached, and now gifted with the Mangekyō Sharingan—
was the most dangerous kind of Uchiha imaginable.
If the Hokage forced him, Jin might not resist—he might simply disappear.
And an unbound Uchiha hiding in the shadows, driven by resentment, was a nightmare no village could withstand.
The thought sent a chill down Hiruzen's spine.
He drew in a sharp breath, the pipe slipping slightly from his fingers.
Just then, the office door burst open.
Danzo Shimura strode in, cloak billowing, his expression dark as a thundercloud.
"Hiruzen," he said without preamble, "you've received the report, haven't you?"
He didn't wait for an answer.
"The Uchiha have revealed the Mangekyō again. This time, it's a boy named Uchiha Jin."
Danzo's single visible eye narrowed. "Leave this matter to Root."
The words dripped with certainty, almost arrogance.
Of course he knew.
Nothing that happened in Konoha escaped Danzo's web for long.
And the moment he heard about the Mangekyō, his mind had leapt straight to a single conclusion—control or elimination.
"If he can be molded," Danzo said flatly, "we'll use him as a weapon. If not—"
His hand twitched slightly, as though gripping an invisible kunai.
"—we remove the eyes and end the threat."
He was a master of this kind of thinking.
To him, every problem had a surgical solution.
But before he could continue, Hiruzen's voice cracked like a whip.
> "No. Absolutely not."
Danzo blinked, genuinely surprised.
"You are not to interfere in this matter," Hiruzen said firmly. "Leave Uchiha Jin to me."
"Danzo—listen to me carefully. This boy is not like the others. He has no ties to the Uchiha clan. After graduation, he was placed in the lowest combat unit. His teammates were strangers. His parents are dead."
He leaned forward, voice lowering into something almost pleading.
"An Uchiha like that—isolated, unattached—can be reasoned with. He might still accept the village's authority. But if you use your Root methods—your torture, your brainwashing—you'll only push him over the edge."
Hiruzen's tone hardened.
"If he defects… what then? What can you possibly use to threaten him? He has nothing left to lose."
Danzo's brow furrowed, but Hiruzen pressed on.
"Think carefully. If you fail—if Uchiha Jin escapes—Konoha will face a Mangekyō wielder with no restraint and no weakness. Someone who could strike from the shadows whenever he pleases. Can you defend yourself from that… forever?"
Hiruzen knew Danzo's methods too well—his obsession with control, his belief that fear could forge loyalty.
But with the Uchiha, that approach could only create monsters.
For once, his caution wasn't cowardice—it was survival.
But Danzo's sneer cut through the tension.
> "You're too weak, Hiruzen."
His voice was cold and venomous.
"It's because Uchiha Jin is so dangerous that we must act now. Crush him before he becomes another Obito—or worse, another Madara."
The two men stared at each other, the office heavy with smoke and hostility.
Between them, the future of Konoha trembled—balanced on the edge of a single decision.