Little Sasuke searched the house before finally finding the source of the noise and then he heard his mother's 'screams.'
The sound frightened him at first, then quickly turned into anger. In his young mind, only one explanation made sense; someone was bullying his mother. And in a way, he wasn't wrong… just not in the sense he understood.
Bang!
The boy's small body dashed forward, ramming into the bedroom door. "Stop! Don't bully my mama, or Brother and Gen-nii won't let you off!"
But Sasuke, not yet three years old, still spoke with a childish lilt that carried no real threat. The door didn't budge either, partly because he wasn't strong enough, and partly because it was built from solid quality wood.
Inside, the sounds stopped immediately. Mikoto and Uchiha Gen froze, exchanging a quick glance.
The sudden silence felt almost comical.
Still nestled in Gen's arms, Mikoto gave him a sharp pinch at the waist and shot him a deadly side-eye before answering, "Sasuke, Mama's fine."
"Then why was Mama screaming?"
"Because…" Mikoto trailed off, unable to come up with a proper excuse. She certainly couldn't tell the truth.
Gen stepped in smoothly. "Sasuke, your mother and I are rehearsing a stage play. Do you know what that is?"
The familiar voice instantly reassured Sasuke, though his confusion lingered. "I don't know."
"Do you want to find out?" Gen asked.
"Yes!"
"Good. Tonight, I'll take you to see one. You'll understand then. And afterwards, we'll have dinner outside too."
Sasuke's little eyes lit up. "Okay, okay! But we have to take Brother too!"
"Of course. Now, go play for a bit. Your mother and I still need to rehearse, can't stop halfway, right?"
"Okay!" The boy bounced away happily, crisis averted.
Back in the room, Mikoto exhaled in relief, though her brows still drew together. "No one's watching Sasuke. I'm a little uneasy."
Gen brushed it off with a calm smile. "What do you mean no one? Clan attendants are around, and there are ninja patrolling the perimeter. What could possibly happen?"
"That's not the point. You can't spoil Sasuke too much. A shinobi must be tempered from a young age. If he grows up pampered, Fugaku will scold me from the grave."
At the mention of her late husband, Mikoto's tone sharpened. Gen only raised his hands in mock innocence. "Why bring him up now? I'm just stating facts."
"Hmph. Your mouth lies, but your body doesn't. Disgusting."
Gen grinned, leaning closer. "Heh, true enough. But your body doesn't lie to me either…"
He brushed his lips against her neck, and Mikoto instinctively tilted her head, wrapping her arms around him. Her flushed face betrayed her, though she still complained breathlessly, "Hmph, why did you say it out loud? It's your fault I've become like this… And what if Sasuke remembers this when he grows up? I'll die of embarrassment."
Gen chuckled. Didn't you say it first? Forget it..no point arguing with a woman.
"Don't worry. He's not even three yet. Most memories from that age are fleeting. Only strong impressions after five years old really stick."
Mikoto gasped as Gen suddenly swept her toward the foot of the bed. "Wait, what are you....ah!"
"Didn't you say you were tired earlier?" Gen murmured.
"Mm," she admitted softly, cheeks burning.
He said nothing more, focusing instead on extinguishing the fire raging inside him.
That evening, Gen kept his word. He took Sasuke and Itachi to see a stage play put on by a traveling troupe in Konoha.
The next morning, life resumed as normal. Gen reviewed and approved documents requiring his personal attention. Though he had the authority to sign off on everything, he deliberately left aside tasks that could be postponed.
Outside of work, he often spent time with Kurenai and Yugao. But since those two were close friends with Anko and often inseparable, intimate moments were rare.
Gen didn't mind being surrounded by three women with such distinct charms was rewarding enough.
A week later, opportunity came knocking again. Gen infiltrated the Root vaults and Danzo's personal estate vaults. Both had layers of traps inside and out, but he bypassed them with ease. Once more, the money vanished without a trace.
Yet this time, Gen didn't keep it. Every coin and bill was reduced to ash in a cleansing fire.
Danzo, of course, wasn't careless. He had anticipated thefts, splitting the funds into three separate caches. Each was marked with special traceable seals.
But fire erased all clues. His elaborate traps foiled again, Danzo was livid.
Still, anger couldn't solve anything. Unlike Gen, Danzo couldn't extinguish his fury through physical release. He could only grit his teeth and swallow it.
The only silver lining was that not all his funds were gone. Enough remained to keep him afloat, though he had to work harder, making extra trips, spreading his resources thinner, guarding what was left.
Gen, meanwhile, wasn't finished. From the vault's contents, he deduced that what he burned was only a fraction of Danzo's hoard. Determined to teach him a lasting lesson, he planted fragments of his soul onto inconspicuous objects and shadowed Danzo's movements.
Gradually, he uncovered another hidden stash.
Instead of striking immediately, he analyzed the pattern, Danzo's habits, his hiding style. Once confident, Gen expanded his search along the underground walls nearby, eventually discovering another cache.
This time, he struck decisively. Two secret hideouts, two fires, and two more fortunes reduced to nothing but ash.
Half a month later, when Danzo returned expecting to replenish his dwindling reserves, he was greeted only by charred remains. Stunned, he staggered before racing to his final secret location. There too, he found only blackened walls and gray piles of ash.
The sight hit him like a thunderbolt. His body froze, vision swam, ears buzzed, and the world around him seemed to collapse into darkness.
When he finally came back to his senses, his eyes were bloodshot. His roar shook the chamber,
"Damn thief! Robber! I'll never rest until you're dead!"
His fury wasn't only about money. It was about the humiliation of being outplayed, careful plans shattered, clever traps meaningless, and no clue to follow.
After venting like a madman, Danzo forced himself calm. Masking his devastation, he returned to Root as though nothing had happened.
But from that day on, his thoughts turned singular; money, money, and more money.
Everything else, power, schemes, even Konoha itself—faded behind the gnawing desperation of an empty vault.
At least until he could fill it again.