45: The Pact

“Tsume-sama, would you like some water?”

Risuke Nogawa approached during the march, holding a waterskin out with both hands.

Tsume glanced at him, took it, and tossed it sideways to Shin. He caught it quickly.

“I’ve prepared one for him as well.” Nogawa produced a second waterskin and offered it to Tsume with the same careful deference.

Shin uncapped the first and drank. Over the rim, he watched Nogawa speaking to Tsume with that deeply respectful expression—nothing like the man Norikata Gotō had described. No trace of looking down on anyone.

“The name of the Hidden Leaf alone has kept every bandit on this road at a distance,” Nogawa said, bowing his head slightly. “We’re grateful.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered either way.” Tsume waved it off. “Your guards could handle common highway thieves.”

“Perhaps—but it would’ve been a hassle. With you here, Tsume-sama, we’ve avoided a great deal of unnecessary trouble.” He paused. “When we arrive in the Land of Rivers, Tomotoshi and I intend to show you proper hospitality.”

“We’ll see.”

Tsume passed her waterskin to Kuromaru beside her. The great wolf-dog clamped his jaws around the spout, tilted his head back, and drank.

“Shin.” Tsume turned. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

He shook his head, but his legs were heavy. His body still didn’t have the stamina for this—hours of walking on unpaved roads wore him down faster than he wanted to admit.

Nogawa’s gaze drifted to the blade strapped horizontally across Shin’s pack. He looked at it once, then again. The sword’s fittings had the unmistakable look of something expensive.

“Forgive my rudeness.” Nogawa bowed toward Shin. “May I ask—was the previous owner of that blade a samurai, or a shinobi?”

“A shinobi,” Shin said, inclining his head in return.

The previous owner. Zeri Kano.

“I see.” A flicker of disappointment crossed Nogawa’s face.

“Though his family were originally samurai,” Shin added, remembering what Hana had once told him. “Generations back.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Nogawa smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Shin understood, at least partly. For a samurai, the sword was life itself. For a shinobi, it was just another tool.

The world belonged to shinobi now. Samurai had been left behind by the age. Seeing a fine blade in the hands of someone who didn’t understand it the way a swordsman would—Nogawa couldn’t have found that easy.

“You’re too kind,” Shin said, returning the bow.

He seems like a decent person. I wonder why Gotō said those things about him.

“Tsume-sama!” Tomotoshi Ueno came trotting up in short, quick steps. “There’s a town about half an hour ahead. Shall we stop and rest there?”

“Your call.”

The Hokage’s office.

“What is Danzō after now?”

The Third Hokage sat behind his desk, pressing both thumbs against his temples.

The latest ANBU report lay before him. Danzō’s ROOT operatives had begun actively assisting the ANBU investigation into Shisui Uchiha’s death.

Hiruzen had a rough picture of how Shisui had died. What remained unclear was Danzō’s motive.

And now, this performance—pretending to investigate the very death he’d had a hand in. It couldn’t be for appearances. Danzō had no need for that, and it wasn’t in his nature.

So what was he looking for? What answer—or what thing?

“What about the Uchiha?” Koharu Utatane spoke from his right. “How have they reacted to Shisui’s death?”

“A significant number of clan members have been conducting their own investigation. They’ve also requested ANBU assistance.” Hiruzen answered.

“And Fugaku?” Koharu’s brow furrowed.

Hiruzen fell silent for a moment.

“…Nothing,” he said. “No reaction at all.”

“Could he have been involved?” Homura Mitokado asked from his left.

Hiruzen’s frown deepened. He’d considered the same thing—and the more he turned it over, the more plausible it became.

Shisui Uchiha and Fugaku Uchiha had stood on opposite sides within the clan. Everyone in this room knew that. Shisui had been the first to oppose Fugaku’s plans for a coup.

Which made Fugaku the person with the strongest reason to want Shisui gone.

“Then between Fugaku and Danzō…” Homura’s voice trailed off, uncertain.

Could there be some kind of pact between them?

Hiruzen’s gaze darkened.

Three sharp knocks broke the silence.

“Enter,” the Hokage called.

A shinobi pushed through the door, bowed, and spoke.

“Lord Hokage. Itachi Uchiha is here to see you.”

“Send him in.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Hiruzen considered for a moment, then gave the order.

The shinobi withdrew. A moment later, the door opened again and Itachi Uchiha stepped through, dressed in his full ANBU uniform.

“Lord Hokage. Lord Mitokado. Lord Utatane.” Itachi dropped to one knee in the center of the hall, head bowed.

Hiruzen laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them, and studied the young man kneeling before him.

“What brings you here, Itachi?”

Homura and Koharu sat flanking the Hokage, watching Itachi in silence. The four of them were alone in the room.

“Lord Hokage.” Itachi kept his head low. “It concerns the Uchiha.”

Hiruzen’s expression didn’t change. He’d expected as much.

“The Uchiha compound will be sealed off this afternoon,” Itachi said.

Hiruzen’s brow tightened. On either side of him, Homura and Koharu stiffened.

“Today, then…” The Hokage spoke slowly—whether to himself or to Itachi, it was impossible to tell.

“…No.” Itachi said. “It isn’t.”

“Explain.” Hiruzen fixed his gaze on him.

“There’s no operational plan in place.” Itachi’s head remained bowed, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know the reason for sealing the compound. But Fugaku won’t act recklessly.”

“Itachi.” Hiruzen’s voice was measured. “Have you considered the possibility that Fugaku has excluded you from the plan entirely?”

Silence. What Hiruzen said was perfectly logical. Fugaku knew Itachi’s loyalties were wavering. Cutting him out would be the natural move.

“…I placed one of Fugaku’s confidants under genjutsu,” Itachi said, his voice low. “I can confirm it isn’t today.” A beat. “I’m asking Lord Hokage not to act rashly when the news of the compound’s closure reaches you this afternoon. I will continue to monitor the situation closely and report any developments immediately.”

Hiruzen held his gaze on Itachi. The two elders wore equally grave expressions.

“Please trust me, Lord Hokage.” Itachi’s voice gained weight.

Silence stretched.

“Itachi… look up.”

Itachi raised his head. Their eyes met—both pairs steady, both unreadable.

“I’m counting on you, Itachi.” The Hokage gave a single nod, his expression unchanged.

Something in Itachi seemed to release. “Thank you for your trust, Lord Hokage.” He lowered his head again. “I’ll take my leave.”

Itachi rose and walked toward the door.

“Making a choice like yours… that’s no easy thing, Itachi.” Hiruzen’s voice came from behind him.

Itachi’s body went rigid mid-step. He didn’t respond. He walked out and closed the door behind him.

Click.