The courtyard of the old Senju estate glowed in the warm orange of sunset, eaves casting long shadows. As Shuji pushed open the gate, Lady Momoka stood with her back to him, trimming a bonsai pine's branches. The soft snip of her shears sounded unusually clear in the quiet air.
"Grandma, I'm home," Shuji's voice broke the stillness.
Momoka did not pause, merely inclined her head slightly in response.
"How did the evaluation go?" she asked evenly, betraying no emotion.
"I passed. Special Jōnin qualification."
"Mm."
After a moment's silence, Shuji's tone deepened. "The evaluators were two Root operatives—one with silver hair, strong in Lightning Release and taijutsu; the other used Wood Release."
At this, Momoka's shears stopped. She set them aside and turned to face him, her eyes suddenly sharp. "You fended him off with Wood Release?"
"No," Shuji met her gaze. "Just standard ninjutsu."
Momoka was silent again. Only leaves rustling in the breeze filled the courtyard. After a long pause, she let out a dry chuckle.
"Hiruzen… oh, Hiruzen," she murmured. "You're getting old."
"Grandma… you knew about that Wood Release shinobi all along?" Shuji asked.
She did not deny it but picked up her shears again, unconsciously twisting the cold metal.
"That boy… in Root, code-named 'Kō,' and earlier under Danzo's Root, 'Alpha.' Danzo and Orochimaru… their human experiments created a flawed weapon." Her voice grew low. "Though he lived, and can spur new wood, he and Hashirama-sama… are worlds apart. And you…" her gaze locked on Shuji with a complex intensity, "you are not the same either."
Shuji's pupils shrank—Alpha! Kō! Root experiments by Orochimaru and Danzo! Momoka knew every codename.
"You… participated?" he whispered, incredulously.
Momoka's shears stilled. She let her gaze, steel-sharp, pierce Shuji's eyes, assessing his capacity to bear what she revealed. The air seemed to freeze as the breeze skirted away.
At last, Momoka spoke slowly: "Initial Hashirama-cell experiments used only top talents—trustworthy people, like us. But losses were too great; the village could not bear them, so the program ceased publicly."
"Yet the village still wanted a means to control tailed beasts. When our own could not be used, outsiders were."
"In the end, Danzo and Orochimaru were tacitly approved. As for us—since it involved Hashirama's cells—we had to take part."
Her words struck like cold hammers on Shuji's heart, exposing the festering wound beneath Konoha's glossy surface.
Yet Shuji showed no fury or despair. His brows furrowed solemnly, his eyes calm, as if he had foreseen and digested her confession.
Momoka felt a ripple within—he was too composed. A boy of fourteen, he should have reacted. Seeing his steady profile, her deep hope for his survival eclipsed all other thoughts.
"You…" her voice softened with concern, "are you not angry at what the village has done? Not disillusioned?" she pressed.
Shuji paused. His gaze drifted past Momoka to the moss-covered stone lantern nestled in the dusked corner.
"Individual morals cannot bind a vast collective whose priority is survival and power. Nor can they alone judge a leader forced to choose in cruel reality." He met Momoka's eyes again, his look profound. "Survival and growth are the greatest righteousness. Whether actions are dirty… depends on their purpose and whether any less filthy choice existed."
"Personal virtue cannot restrain a communal behemoth, nor serve as the sole measure of a leader wading through mud."
His words, coldly pragmatic and deeply insightful, sent ripples through Momoka's calm heart. For the first time, she realized the child she raised had become someone unrecognizable.
That calm acceptance, and his mature grasp of the world's harsh complexities, stunned her.
"Yes," she finally sighed, "the village needs power to tame the tailed beasts."
"But the Uchiha's Sharingan could control tailed beasts too. Why then…" she trailed off.
"The Uchiha?" Shuji echoed.
Momoka looked as if she'd heard a folly. "In Konoha's fifty-four years, their proud Sharingan controlled tailed beasts twice!"
"First, Madara unleashed the Nine-Tails on the village. Second, three years ago, the Nine-Tails Rebellion!"
"The Sharingan's power to 'control tailed beasts' dangled over Konoha like a blade ready to fall!"
Shuji was silent. He could not refute that bloody history. Madara's and the Nine-Tails Rebellion's legacy still unfolded.
"Should I respond to this probe?" Shuji steered back to the pressing matter, his tone once more calm, as if their grave exchange had not occurred.
Momoka's sharp gaze sought his true thoughts. After a long moment, she sighed wearily yet knowingly: "…So be it." She waved as if brushing dust aside. "I will arrange everything."
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild