Chapter 45: Danzo vs. Tobirama

“Danzo…”

Hiruzen Sarutobi’s voice was quiet, almost hesitant. His eyes lifted toward the man who had once been his comrade, his rival, his shadow. His tone trembled with conflict, but beneath it ran an undercurrent of determination.

“Someone… wants to see you.”

The words had barely left his lips when the air split apart.

A torrent of water surged forth like a silver serpent, sharp as lightning, aimed mercilessly at Danzo’s throat.

Water Release: Water Blade!

The attack carried all the cold precision of Senju Tobirama. It was not a warning. It was an execution.

The water blade ripped through the air with terrifying speed, so fast it gave its target almost no time to react.

Yet Danzo did not flinch. His single visible eye narrowed, but his face betrayed neither shock nor fear. His body trembled briefly—then, without hand seals, the ground erupted.

Countless withered branches and leaves burst from the earth, twisting together into a shield of dead wood. The torrent of water struck it with a screeching hiss, carving deep grooves, but it could not pierce the barrier.

The shrill sound of water grinding against rotten bark filled the Hokage Office.

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed sharply. A chilling realization flashed through his mind.

“Big Brother’s cells…!”

But almost instantly, he knew something was wrong.

This was not Hashirama’s Wood Release. Not the vibrant, living trees that brimmed with life-force. This was its opposite. The branches were brittle, lifeless, saturated with decay. What should have been a symbol of creation radiated only corruption and death.

The aura it exuded was not life—it was curse.

Danzo lowered his arm slowly, his voice hoarse yet strangely calm. A faint shadow of melancholy crossed his features.

“Tobirama-sensei… So it’s true. Orochimaru has made his move and resurrected you.”

He turned his gaze toward Hiruzen, lips curling faintly into a mocking half-smile.

“Hiruzen… can’t you see it yet? From the moment your teacher returned, you ceased being the Hokage who truly commands Konoha.”

Hiruzen’s breath caught. He clenched his fists, torn between denial and recognition.

Danzo’s tone grew sharper, laced with bitterness.
“I don’t blame you. Who could resist his authority? You’ve always been under his shadow. And now, he must think I’ve fallen—corrupted by the Uchiha’s Sharingan.”

His voice dripped with irony as he stood tall, defiant.

“If Tobirama-sensei wishes to unify the Ninja World his way, he must claim both light and darkness. That means eliminating me, whether I wield the Sharingan or not.”

“Nonsense!”

For the first time, Tobirama’s composure cracked. His cold, disciplined voice rose in fury.

“Evil Uchiha tricks! Provocations this crude will not work!”

Yet even as he cursed, his mind was razor sharp. He knew this Danzo was no longer the man he once tolerated in Konoha’s shadows. Something inside him had already been twisted—corrupted by Uchiha Gen’s influence, or worse, consumed entirely.

Allowing Danzo to speak further could be dangerous. If the corruption had spread to his very will, then words themselves could become weapons. There was no room for hesitation.

Tobirama’s hands flashed through seals again. In the blink of an eye, another torrent of water formed, thicker, sharper, more lethal than the first. It roared toward Danzo like a guillotine.

This time, Danzo’s expression hardened. He no longer restrained himself.

His right palm opened.

A crimson eye gleamed within, spinning violently—a hidden Mangekyō Sharingan.

Tobirama’s heart jolted. “In his palm…?!”

The eye whirled, radiating suffocating power. The branches of withered wood around Danzo writhed, veins of rot twisting grotesquely. They fused together, coiling upward, condensing into a single weapon—a sword of blackened bark and bone.

Its edge pulsed with decay, exhaling malice.

“The Jumang Blade…”

Danzo’s voice was low, guttural, carried by the crimson glow of his Sharingan. He swung it, and the weapon answered.

A pillar of red light burst forth, surging with unholy chakra. It carved through the Hokage Office, shredding walls, ceilings, and stone as though paper.

The explosion shook the village.

BOOM!

The Hokage Office shattered, collapsing in a storm of dust and fire. The shockwave thundered across Konoha, windows rattling, tiles shattering, night sky alight with crimson glow.

When the smoke parted, Danzo emerged unscathed, his silhouette framed in ruin.

Beneath his feet, the ground glowed faintly—dense lines of sealing arrays, etched in preparation.

With a low rumble, four blazing pillars of fire erupted upward, forming a cage around him.

But Danzo’s reaction was mercilessly swift.

He stomped. Dead wood burst from the ground, like spears lunging upward. In the blink of an eye, they pierced through two Anbu hidden nearby, the very ones sustaining the barrier. Their blood stained the branches.

The array shattered instantly.

Danzo retreated several steps, evading the collapsing seals with surgical precision.

The streets around them were deserted. Every villager had already been quietly evacuated, leaving only silence and the acrid scent of smoke.

Danzo stepped forward, his movements steady, each footfall deliberate. His cloak swayed in the night wind, his palm-eye glowing ceaselessly with a sinister light.

Across from him, Tobirama and Hiruzen stood side by side, their faces grim.

Hiruzen finally found his voice, though it wavered.
“Danzo… how could you use the First Hokage’s cells?”

But Tobirama did not speak. He knew his elder brother’s cells had always tempted ambitious men. Even he, a man of logic, had studied them. Perhaps this, too, was his fault.

Danzo’s voice was steady, sharp as a blade.
“Sanity? I’ve never been more clear. But my clarity is not the same as yours.”

Hiruzen’s chest tightened. He tried once more, voice thick with sorrow.
“Danzo… stop this. Let Sensei free you from the Sharingan’s control.”

But Danzo shook his head slowly. The red glow of the Mangekyō reflected in his gaze, tinged with contempt, tinged with pity.
“Hiruzen… the one who is controlled is not me. It’s you. Forever shackled to Sensei’s shadow. Don’t you see? He is nothing but a dead man.”

Hiruzen flinched. The words cut deeper than any blade.

Tobirama’s brow furrowed. He spoke in a low growl to his student.
“Monkey. Do it. Now. No more hesitation.”

Hiruzen hesitated one last time. He looked at Danzo—the man who had once fought beside him, who had carried the village’s darkness for decades. Now he stood alone, burdened by power that twisted his body and soul.

For a fleeting moment, Hiruzen felt pity. He saw not an enemy, but a lonely figure, a shadow severed from the world, carrying curses he had chosen and those forced upon him.

But the time for pity had passed.

With trembling hands, Hiruzen unclasped his Hokage cloak, letting it fall to the ground. His fingers moved rapidly into seals, chakra surging as he prepared to fight.

Danzo lifted the withered blade, and the air warped around it, saturated with malignant chakra. The moonlight shone upon his back, stretching his shadow long across the broken street.

His eye was cold as he advanced.

Hiruzen stared, heart heavy. In that moment, he realized—Danzo was no longer simply an adversary. He was the embodiment of the darkness Konoha had always relied upon, now walking into judgment.

And it would be Hiruzen himself—the Hokage—who had to deliver it.

“I am the Hokage,” Hiruzen whispered to himself.

His resolve hardened. His chakra flared.

The night over Konoha trembled as the battle began.