After booking a room and showering, their clothes came off piece by piece, their breathing grew heavier, their bodies pressed closer—and at last they got down to the usual business.
This and that, then that and this… About an hour later, Uchiha Yorin lay on the bed, calmly staring at the ceiling.
A tickle on his chest made him turn his head; Yakushi Nono was tracing circles there with a fingertip. Sated and tired, Yorin felt too lazy to move. He just gave her hand a light pat to quit fooling around, which earned him a sweet, coy smile from the woman in glasses.
After laughing, she rolled into his arms, pressed her lips to his ear, and whispered:
"Hey, Yorin—when are you going to kill Danzō-sama?"
Anyone else, hearing Nono say that out of nowhere, might have jolted in fright. To Yorin, it was the kind of old married-couple small talk.
His answer matched that old-couple vibe: "Working on it, working on it." It sounded perfunctory—because it was.
They chatted as if Shimura Danzō weren't Konoha leadership, Root's commander, the so-called "Darkness of the Shinobi," but merely some middle-aged man's unavoidable pain point.
Unhappy with the brush-off, the woman deployed a kunoichi's most fearsome technique—cloying coquettishness—shaking his arm and purring, "You always say that—can you actually do it or not?"
Yorin, annoyed: "A man can't say 'can't,' okay? The problem is, Danzō's hard to deal with."
"Hard or not, you have to," she said. "Lately his suspicions about me keep growing. If we don't take him out soon, he'll come for us."
"Is that really true?"
"Of course it is."
…
Without context, that exchange reads like adulterers plotting against a hapless cuckold. In a sense, yes.
The difference is that Yorin and Nono are the just side. Danzō may be the "Scapegoat Kage," shouldering plenty of the Third's blame, but calling him an innocent good man would make even the purest fool burst out laughing.
Setting "good and evil" aside, there are private reasons to put Danzō down: he covets the Uchiha's eyes.
The Uchiha's Sharingan and Hashirama's cells—Yin and Yang Release combined. Orochimaru wants that power; so does Shimura Danzō.
Wanting isn't allowed.
Want it and die.
The Uchiha don't have the Hyūga's absurd "Caged Bird" seal. Kiri could flaunt stolen Byakugan; the Hyūga were too timid to act. But you never hear of anyone showing off a stolen Sharingan.
Why?
Because the Uchiha had a simpler solution:
Kill.
Whoever coveted those eyes died. One or ten thousand—kill until fear took root and no one dared try. That's how the eyes stayed safe.
In the Warring States chaos, the Uchiha did exactly that—and did it well. For fifty years after founding Konoha with the Senju, no one dared covet Uchiha eyes.
Until the Night of the Massacre. The Sharingan became a discount clearance item, set into Danzō's arm as disposable parts.
Thinking of that, Yorin felt a surge of unmatched fury, the kind that nearly pops a Mangekyō.
…
No matter how people whitewash it, the stink of blood on Uchiha Itachi won't wash off.
So even though the massacre hasn't happened yet, Yorin already views him differently. Call it petty, call it bias—he won't forgive him.
You only feel the pain when the knife hits your own flesh.
Compared to the weirdo Itachi, "Second Pillar" (Sasuke) is much better.
Sasuke has a thousand flaws, but "revenge" isn't one of them. If Itachi lives, go for Itachi; if he's dead, go for Danzō. Right target, firm resolve—if he'd posture less and act faster, Yorin would give him full marks.
…
"So Danzō will die. It's only a matter of time."
Yorin laid out for Nono why Danzō was courting death, to put her at ease.
"Good—just, do it soon if you can," Nono sighed. "That man is getting more and more unbearable."
…
Yorin's reason to kill Danzō is simple. Nono's isn't complicated either:
"You know too much."
As Danzō's star spy, she knows far more than she should. Though semi-retired now as the head of an orphanage—supposedly beneath a shinobi's notice—Danzō is the type to kill a thousand rather than spare one; warped besides, with a habit of killing the body and shattering the heart.
"If you don't keep serving Root, the orphanage won't get funding," he'd say.
What he meant was: "Dead people don't need funding."
Only the dead keep secrets.
But Yakushi Nono is brilliant. Danzō's shtick might fool Shisui or Itachi; it can't fool her.
Danzō's stance isn't the "Konoha leadership's" stance. The leadership's stance isn't Konoha's interests. And Konoha's interests run opposite to the "Will of Fire" it advertises.
Seen that way, it's only natural the woman in glasses would decide to kill Danzō—once she linked up with Uchiha Yorin and confirmed he, too, had a problem with Danzō.
Otherwise, Danzō is Kage-class. He tiptoes around Nagato, but throws haymakers at Nono. Without Yorin as a pillar, Nono would have given up.
But Danzō, in his "cleverness," assigned her to watch Yorin—while Yorin knew her other identity. Two sharp minds linked up—plotting Danzō, then happily rolling in the sheets.
Every dirty story about Danzō, about Anbu, and other assorted skeletons—Nono sold them without mercy.
Including, in a sense, herself: she became Yorin's plaything—trading everything for one promise from him.
If they succeed: crush Danzō and set Nono free.
If they fail: he'll look after the orphanage, at least keep everyone fed.
As for running? Not an option. Her soft spot is obvious: Konoha's orphanage.
The orphanage can't run; neither can Nono.
Tragic for the woman in glasses; convenient for Uchiha Yorin.
Leaning on a woman's weak point is a bit immoral.
Luckily for him, Uchiha Yorin has no morals.