How we choose to live (english version)

Iruka:
Iruka observed the dojo attentively, the sound of wooden blades echoing through the space as Yugao and Hayate trained with the old and silent Hiroshi. Both seemed more confident than ever, their stances sharp and strikes precise. However, Iruka knew that this confidence was beginning to inflate egos that were already hard to deal with.

He sighed. They had been training together for months, but the team was still far from harmonious. Yugao and Hayate maintained an emotional distance from Ryuna, and their attitudes bordered on disrespect. He understood why. When Ryuna had been assigned as their sensei at such a young age, they resented the Sandaime for underestimating them and giving them an “inferior” sensei, according to their biases. Later, when Ryu-nee became the Godaime Hokage, many in the village underestimated her as well, which only validated the injustice Yugao and Hayate felt.

The problem was that it took all of them too long to realize they were wrong.

“Iruka, aren’t you going to train?” Yugao called out, resting the wooden blade on her shoulder. Her voice sounded casual, but he could feel the tension behind the question.

Iruka followed Ryu-sensei’s training plans religiously because he knew how much time she spent crafting them, ensuring they guided their individual growth while respecting their preferences without neglecting anyone.

Yugao, he knew, desperately wanted to prove she was as good as any boy—likely a complex of inferiority developed during the Academy—and she must have felt sabotaged when assigned an inexperienced teacher. The issue, Iruka realized, wasn’t that Ryuna was a woman—Yugao would’ve loved a female sensei. No, the issue was her youth. It made Yugao feel inferior, as though her lack of strength was her own fault and not the system’s for denying women opportunities. If Ryuna had achieved so much, then others simply weren’t good enough. It was irrational, that resentment, but such feelings always are.

Hayate, on the other hand, was the type easily swayed by others’ opinions. Due to Ryuna’s position as a Jinchuuriki and later a Hokage imposed by the Daimyo rather than chosen by the Council, she wasn’t exactly popular. Add to that his own inferiority complex from being weaker than a girl his age, and things didn’t improve.

One way or another, neither Yugao nor Hayate followed the training plans Ryuna prepared for them. They tried for a few days but got frustrated and quit.

Now that they’d seen Ryu-sensei fight an army, two Kages, and two Jinchuuriki alone, they finally understood her capabilities when she gave her all. Only a few days had passed since they realized she was the strongest ninja in Konoha and that being her students was an honor, not sabotage. But old grudges don’t fade overnight, and they’d spent a year and a half silently blaming Ryu-nee for everything wrong in their lives.

“I’ve finished my training for today,” Iruka replied calmly. He had spent the morning revising complex fūinjutsu formulas, something that genuinely excited him.

His recent adoption into the Takeshi clan had been met with disdain by his teammates, who once again accused him of being the sensei’s pet. Iruka was trying hard not to care about what they thought, but it was difficult. Occasionally, he played pranks on them, though he mostly avoided it because it only made things worse. Fūinjutsu was just one of the new things he was learning now that he had access to the clan’s library.

Before Yugao could retort, the dojo door slid open, revealing Ryuna. She stood in her usual posture: shoulders straight, sharp gaze, and wearing her traditional wide-sleeved top and loose pants, the type samurai often wore. To anyone else, she seemed impeccable, but Iruka knew she was tired. Living in the Takeshi clan’s Main House, he often saw her burying herself in documents or books, always working to solve someone’s problem.

Being Hokage so young wasn’t easy, yet here she was, ready for another day with them. If he were in her place, Iruka would be furious if his students didn’t respect his efforts.

“Finish up here and come to me,” Ryu-nee called out, bowing to Hiroshi, who returned the gesture with a deeper bow.

“Now? We’re in the middle of training,” Hayate protested.

“Listen to your sensei, Hayate,” Hiroshi reprimanded in his raspy voice, casting a stern look at him and Yugao. “You two will never learn if you don’t learn to listen.”

Yugao and Hayate blushed with embarrassment at the scolding. Although not a ninja, Hiroshi was a master swordsman who had earned their respect enough for them to call him “master” during training. Other village ninjas, some Iruka suspected were Anbu, and even civilians interested in martial arts often trained with the old man.

“You’ve trained enough with swords,” Ryuna replied, her voice slightly colder than usual. Iruka nearly flinched—he’d lived with Ryu-nee long enough to recognize her “prepare for a scolding” tone, which could probably make even a Tailed Beast hesitate. Maybe that’s why the Fox hadn’t attacked Konoha again? “We have other things to train, and I want to see the results of the training plans I gave each of you.”

The atmosphere grew heavy. Iruka noticed Hayate’s expression harden while Yugao gripped her wooden sword tightly. Without further protest, the two dropped their weapons and followed Ryuna to the main hall, leaving Hiroshi behind. The old swordsman watched in silence, clearly displeased with their behavior.

Once outside in the training field, Ryuna faced them while they took their positions. Iruka stepped aside, trying not to interfere but anticipating what was to come.

“So, Ryuna-sensei,” Yugao began, her tone deliberately defiant, “when are we finally taking the Chūnin Exams?”

Hayate, who usually left provocations to Yugao, seized the chance to chime in. They were desperate to prove themselves.

“Yeah, we’re ready. Our kenjutsu is way beyond basic. You’ve seen it yourself.”

Ryuna regarded them in silence for a moment, her golden eyes assessing each of them. Iruka felt a shiver. He’d seen that look before, and if he weren’t already annoyed with those two, he might have warned them to keep quiet—but he was feeling petty.

“You think you’re ready for the Chūnin Exams?” she asked, crossing her arms and maintaining a completely neutral expression.

“Of course, we are!” Hayate insisted. “We’ve been ready for a year.”

“Really?” Ryuna replied indifferently. “In that case, you wouldn’t mind a demonstration, would you?”

Yugao huffed, but she avoided meeting Ryuna’s eyes. She looked like she might cry if she kept staring.

"Why? You don’t even let us really fight on missions. How do you expect us to prove anything if we never get the chance?" Once again, their sense of inferiority was surfacing.

Ryuna narrowed her eyes, and Iruka realized this was the spark she had been waiting for.

"Do you want to know why I won’t let you take the exam?" Ryuna stepped forward. She was shorter than them, but her presence made them feel small. The fact that all three of them knew the Hokage could crush them effortlessly if she wanted didn’t help lessen the weight of her authority. "Because you’re not ready."

Yugao opened her mouth to protest, but Ryuna raised a hand, silencing her.

"Listen carefully," she said, her voice taking on a harder tone. "I know you’re talented, your kenjutsu is impressive. I know that. But being a ninja isn’t just about that. And as things stand now, the rest of your skills are, at best, mediocre."

"Mediocre?!" Hayate exclaimed, outraged.

"Mediocre. Bad. Weak. Disappointing. Take your pick," Ryuna rolled her eyes before locking her gaze back onto the two troublemakers. "And do you know what happens to unprepared ninjas on dangerous missions? They die."

The silence that followed was deafening. Iruka glanced at Yugao and Hayate, waiting for a response, but they seemed more irritated than anything else. They hated being belittled, but how could they prove themselves to someone their age who was as strong as a Kage?

"You two have spent the last year and a half doubting me, disrespecting my authority, and thinking you’re better just because you managed to learn how to wield a sword without killing yourselves in the process. Congratulations!" she mocked. "I’ve let it slide because you can’t go on a mission without my supervision, and I’ll make sure you stay genin forever if necessary until you learn what I’m teaching you. I don’t care one bit. If you want to become chunin, I suggest you cut the crap and start learning what I’m trying to teach you. Learning this is in your best interest, if only to get my permission to take the Chunin Exams."

Yugao and Hayate’s faces were flushed with embarrassment, anger, and frustration. It must have been infuriating for them to know she was right and that, as Hokage, she had the power to make good on her threats. Those two would spend their lives as genin if they kept up their attitude.

"And why haven’t you ever shown us your skills before?" Yugao asked, making a last-ditch effort to turn the tables.

Ryuna stared at her for a second. She didn’t respond immediately, and Iruka wondered what she was thinking.

"Because there’s never been a need. My role as Hokage is primarily at a desk, and I’m a very capable paper ninja, thank you very much. Not that showing you what I can do in a serious fight would have changed much if this is how you respond to me." She mocked, and Yugao blushed even deeper.

Iruka felt a heavy tension in the air. He wanted to say something, to defend Ryuna, but he knew this was a crucial moment between them.

"And just to be clear," Ryuna continued, her voice lower but still firm, "I’m not here to prove anything to you. I’m here to make sure you come back alive from your missions. When I think you’re ready, you’ll take the exam, and not a second before. Until then, train harder. Train everything, not just what you find fun."

Ryuna turned to leave, but before opening the door, she added, "Iruka, keep up with your fūinjutsu training. You’re doing well."

With that, she left, leaving the three of them alone. Yugao and Hayate looked lost, while Iruka simply stared at the floor, absorbing the weight of their sensei’s words. It felt good to know he was improving, and it was satisfying to be praised in front of his teammates, who had mocked him more than once.

Finally, he turned to his teammates and could see how embarrassed they were.

"You know she’s right, don’t you?"

Neither of them answered.

Clone 7:

The meeting was supposed to include only the clan leaders' wives, but the husbands insisted on attending with them—except for the Inuzuka. Ryuna would bet that Tsume was curious about what was going on, but she was also certain the woman would appreciate the proposals given her reactions to Ryuna's earlier decisions. The other clan heads, however, felt Ryuna might intimidate their wives into agreeing to something they wouldn’t approve of, so they insisted on a meeting including them as well.

They have no idea.

"We are the clan heads; we have the right to attend this meeting to help represent our wives," Hiashi argued as they arrived. Not all were hostile; the decision was driven mainly by caution.

Ryuna felt that familiar irritation stir in her chest, the urge to force Hiashi and everyone else into submission. Would they have acted this way if it were someone else wearing this hat? While blatant disrespect had mostly ceased, and people were doing their jobs, the situation was far from ideal.

Ryuna had scheduled this meeting with the resolution to speak calmly, argue rationally about her decisions, and secure their willing cooperation. But with that bubbling anger, she wasn’t sure if she could keep her resolve.

"I understand, Hyuga-sama," she replied with a smile, welcoming the guests to the tea ceremony that would accompany the meeting. It was meant to be a friendly gathering. Hopefully, she could keep it that way.

Deep down, she recognized that even those sabotaging her did so because they believed it was for Konoha's best interest. That if she were to fail, it should happen quickly, before causing much damage, since they deemed her unfit for the position. Rationally, Ryuna could understand this.

She could comprehend that it was a political and strategic decision, not necessarily rooted in personal feelings against her. Truly, Ryuna understood this... in her mind. But in her heart? It still felt like betrayal, no matter how much she tried convincing herself that the people around her were allies, all working toward the same goal. Looking around, she felt surrounded by enemies within her own Council.

It shouldn’t be this way.

The guests sat down, wives beside their husbands, all casting curious glances her way, some distinctly cautious—like Shikaku—even though Yoshino seemed intrigued. Aburame Hotaru and Hyuga Junko were the quietest, fading into the background as their husbands subtly positioned themselves in front of them. The Akimichi matriarch, Ume, sat beside her husband with the proud posture of a woman accustomed to command—a stark contrast to Inoichi's wife, Yamanaka Michiko, who appeared pale and frail since her last miscarriage months ago. She had been advised to stop trying for biological children for her safety. Inuzuka Tsume was the only unaccompanied woman, the sole matriarch not formally invited since she was still active in service, unlike the others who were retired.

Silently, Ryuna served tea to all the guests. It wasn’t a formal ceremony with so many present, but it was enough to establish an atmosphere of harmony and impose order before the discussion began. Raising one's voice in such a setting would be incredibly rude. Ryuna hoped this would help her maintain her composure.

Once the tea was served, she sat and sipped from her own cup, debating whether to waste time on trivialities. But what was the point, when everyone was tense, waiting for her to strike? It would be a waste of time, and she had none to spare for people who didn’t value her.

Straight to the point, then:

"Very well, let’s begin." Ryuna gestured, and a chunin serving as her assistant began distributing files to each of the women present (except Tsume, who hadn’t been formally invited). Each file bore the recipient’s name at the top, detailing their new roles as active contributors to Konoha. Some, like Hyuga, didn’t even glance at the file, with Hiashi being the only one to open and read its contents. Ryuna suppressed her growing irritation.

"These will be your duties from now on. The person currently performing these tasks will explain how they are done over the next three days. Afterward, I expect you to handle the work independently. Of course, should anything unexpected arise, that person will be available for consultation."

"I’m not sure I understand," Yoshino frowned in confusion, and Shikaku averted his eyes. Was that shame on his face? It had better be.

"Since the day of the Nine-Tails’ Attack, many people have struggled to recover, and their expenses have been covered by me using my parents’ inheritance. I’ve been funding a hospital, a school for both children and adults with 3,216 students, an orphanage housing 722 children—all of whom attend the school, including the Root recruits. The 85 former Root agents participate in crafting workshops and other extracurricular activities, alongside other civilians, to earn extra income and rebuild their lives. For all this infrastructure to function, we need many staff, materials, and efficient organization," she explained, opening her own file containing a summary of requirements and how she had divided the tasks.

The work she had been doing all this time demanded skills and administrative expertise that most people lacked. However, the clan matriarchs possessed these abilities because, while their husbands were at war, they managed the clans. Now, in times of peace, they had all the skills of a leader but none of the responsibilities or power. They were the reserve.

"To offset the expenses, those I support contribute to the village by cleaning streets and public buildings, tending the crops that supply the school, orphanage, and hospital. There’s even a large community hall where meals are served to anyone in need. Everyone from these establishments dines there daily, as they can’t yet sustain themselves financially," she clarified. "In short, they perform vital services for Konoha, and managing these efforts requires skilled oversight. The person handling this until now has decided it’s time to delegate responsibilities, which is why you’re here."

"Forgive me, Hokage-sama, but I’ve been retired for years," Aburame Hotaru interjected, frowning. "I know you’ve been recruiting kunoichi who retired due to marriage and motherhood, but I believed those who had retired long ago could remain so, as they’ve lost their physical fitness and are no longer suited for active duty."

"Luckily for you, administrative work doesn’t require physical conditioning," Ryuna replied with a forced smile. "As matriarchs of your respective clans, you have the knowledge and experience needed to perform the duties assigned to you."

With that, everyone began leafing through the documents:

• Nara Yoshino – School Administrator
• Tsunade – Personnel Administration (General)
• Uchiha Mikoto – Financial Management (General)
• Aburame Hotaru – Agricultural Management
• Hyuga Junko – Workshop Coordination
• Akimichi Ume – Kitchen Management (Balanced Nutrition)
• Yamanaka Michiko – Orphanage Administration
• Shizune – Hospital Administration

...and so on.

"This is… a lot," Yoshino remarked, overwhelmed as she read through her responsibilities. The school had numerous staff and students to manage, and she would oversee them all. Ideally, the command structure would be more fragmented to prevent an overload of duties, but there weren’t enough qualified individuals in Konoha due to the lack of basic education. Parents typically taught their children instead of schools. To put it in perspective: only half of Konoha’s population was literate, and even fewer were capable of managing large groups of people and finances effectively.

"Who has been doing all of this until now?"

"Me, Nara-sama. Or did you think my clones wandering around the village were sightseeing?" Ryuna answered, taking another slow sip of tea, ignoring the tense silence that followed. "Someone had to do the work while you threw tantrums over not having your preferred candidate in this chair. Or did you think the village kept running by magic?"

Surprisingly, the husbands remained silent, having learned their lesson from Homura and Koharu, who hadn’t known when to stop and paid the price for it. Small mercies.

“Hokage-sama, I need to care for my son and nephew,” Aburame Hotaru argued.  

“If it has escaped your notice, Aburame-sama, we are understaffed in our ranks, and I cannot reassign ninjas capable of fieldwork to administrative duties—that would be a terrible use of our resources,” she reasonably countered. “If we don’t fill our ranks to the minimum required, we risk gaps in our defensive lines, leaving Konoha vulnerable. It was argued in previous Council meetings that the best way to cover these gaps would be to lower the Academy graduation age, sending our children on missions at a younger age. I thought, since you all care so much about your children’s safety, you’d prefer to do the work yourselves so they wouldn’t have to. After all, if they’re old enough to be taught to kill, then they can stay with a babysitter while you work, can’t they?”  

Inuzuka Tsume chuckled as she leaned back in her chair, satisfied she had attended the meeting. She had been confused when she discovered all the other matriarchs were summoned and initially felt a bit offended at the lack of her own invitation. Now that she understood why this meeting was happening, she was just glad to have shown up, even if it didn’t directly concern her.  

The clan heads wore conflicted expressions on their faces.  

“Hokage-sama, tradition considers it inappropriate for a family matron to occupy herself with matters unrelated to family affairs,” Hyuga spoke hesitantly, even as he felt his argument would not be enough to sway Ryuna’s decision. “Our children will be the future clan leaders of Konoha, and they need to receive the best education.”  

“Do not worry, Hyuga-sama. I am implementing reforms in Konoha’s educational system to ensure all our children have the opportunity to receive a complete, quality education,” Ryuna reassured him, forcing herself to smile. “I, too, wish for our future leaders not to be inept.”  

“Still, tradition…”  

“Hyuga-sama, this is a Konoha Council meeting,” Ryuna sweetly reminded him, masking her exponentially thinning patience. “I suggest you take your concerns about tradition to a temple, where they are more appropriate.”  

That silenced everyone. Any further objections, they knew, would be met with an equally cutting remark—a reprimand, a humiliation.  

“I will be more than happy to do my part, Hokage-sama,” Akimichi Ume bowed so low her forehead touched the floor, remaining there as she continued speaking. “I know your tenure as Hokage has been nothing but hardship after hardship, and you have handled everything efficiently, always keeping Konoha’s best interest in mind, even when we failed to do so and let our personal feelings and fears influence our actions. I hope that, through my hard work, I can regain your trust in the Akimichi clan and its leadership.”  

Ume was the most influential woman in the meeting, the only one among the summoned who actually had a real job managing a restaurant conglomerate across the Land of Fire. Ryuna knew she was very good with money and felt torn about where to place her. But Ume was also the only woman who knew how to feed so many mouths effectively, given her clan’s famously voracious appetite.  

Akimichi Ume had influence independent of her husband’s. She ran the restaurant chain while her husband focused more on his ninja obligations.  

She was followed by Nara Yoshino, Uchiha Mikoto, and one by one after that, every matriarch of the clans bowed until their foreheads touched the floor, apologizing for their husbands’ past actions. They weren’t the ones who had turned their backs on Ryuna, but they understood how difficult it was to do a job when no one valued your actions and sabotaged you just because you didn’t have something hanging between your legs.  

Seeing their wives prostrated, the clan heads wore astonished and conflicted expressions, unsure what to do next. But Nara Shikaku was the first of the men to follow his wife’s example and bow, with Uchiha Fugaku doing so simultaneously. The last of the men to bow was Hyuga Hiashi, but even he relented. All of them were proud men, but if the last Council meetings had shown anything, it was that their current approach was deeply flawed. If they didn’t change quickly, they risked losing their positions and power.  

Ryuna looked at the Council and wondered if she could stop feeling so much anger now, if she could just go back to making her plans and pretending the betrayal never happened. She wanted the apology to fix everything. It would be so nice if the heart were such a simple thing.  

“You should know you’ve lost my trust,” she said, feeling overwhelmed by sadness and, surprisingly, not anger. “That said, I will supervise each of you in your duties, and I will know if anyone is being deliberately negligent.”  

She said all this while everyone kept their heads bowed. Ryuna wanted to cry about it, wanted none of this to have happened, wanted that hat never to have been placed on her head.  

“I hope I can trust you all again when this is over.”  

With luck, in three days, Ryuna could dispel most of the clones and allow the Original to recover.

***

Clone 4:

Her head still ached from the Original's lingering inability to fully recover. Her body should have been fine, with Tsunade ensuring everything healed as it should, but the mind was far more complex. The constant headaches were wearing down her patience, and she didn’t want to explode again like she had before.

She still needed to apologize to Kakashi.

Ryuna found him atop the Hokage Monument, standing over Minato-nii's head. Kakashi was slouched as he gazed out over the village with his single eye. It was impossible to read his emotions, given how little of his face was visible and how expressionless the exposed parts seemed.

Dispelling her ANBU guards had been easy enough since they believed the Original was attending the Council meeting with Konoha’s matriarchs. Well, this time, that particular clone was the one wearing the cursed hat — the clones taking turns to keep the Original updated on the village's events without her needing to reabsorb them to consolidate thoughts and memories.

"I wanted to talk to you," Ryuna said.

She sincerely hoped Kakashi wouldn’t run. It wouldn’t be fair to force him to listen to her apology — that wasn’t how forgiveness worked. But she truly wanted him to stay. She wanted him to have heard her words during their earlier argument and let them affect him, to allow himself to change.

Was it strange that she didn’t regret her words but deeply regretted the pain they had caused? Ryuna thought of Obito’s words that day and realized he had been right: things couldn’t continue as they were. Kakashi was a stubborn idiot, and if she didn’t hit him hard, he’d never move forward. It was the law of inertia.

Kakashi lowered his head slightly, showing he was listening.

He didn’t run, and Ryuna felt a small portion of the tension in her shoulders ease.

"I’m sorry for hurting you," she said. If her presence bothered him, it was better to get straight to the point rather than waste time with pleasantries.

"Sorry for hurting me... but not for your words," he said, his voice completely flat. Ryuna realized how unsettling it was when someone you cared about spoke to you that way. Was this how people felt when she did the same? Like they were being discarded.

Backing down now was so tempting. Anything to get him to smile again, even that condescendingly stupid smile he gave people when he was in a good mood.

"Nothing I said was a lie, Kashi, but I admit I could have... expressed it more gently," she said, struggling to find diplomatic words for the moment. She took a deep breath before continuing, "I’ve been thinking... I’d like you to move into the main Takeshi clan house. We have plenty of spare rooms, and I think the kids would like having you around..."

Kakashi let out a wry scoff, keeping his gaze fixed on the village. But Ryuna noticed the faintest tension in his shoulders.

"Mah, you tell me to move on from the past and not follow in my father’s footsteps. What a hypocrite," he said. Though he wore that trademark eye-smile, it was utterly fake, and it felt like a slap to her face.

"Hypocrite?" That wasn’t the word she would have chosen to describe herself.

"My father was loyal, dedicated his life to Konoha, and in the end, his teammates betrayed him when he risked everything to save them. He chose to run away," he said with a voice full of false lightness, even though Ryuna knew that just mentioning Sakumo was enough to make him flinch. How broken had she made him to allow him to talk about this like it was a bad joke?

Kakashi turned to Ryuna, stepping closer with movements filled with unspoken anger, though none of it touched his voice or face. She clenched her fists to stop them from trembling.

"And you? You’ve spent your entire life defending Konoha, watched your father die in front of you to protect the village from the Three-Tails, and no one even thanked you because it was ‘your duty.’ You're forced into a role with overwhelming responsibilities, just like my father had to take the lead on that mission and the blame when it failed. Just like Sakumo’s teammates betrayed him, the Council has betrayed you, sabotaging you over and over until you give in and quit. My father ran away. Now look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t wanted to run too, Ryuna."

Ryuna felt small under his gaze, her voice refusing to come out. Deny him? She didn’t think she could say the words convincingly. The idea of running away to a place without shinobi was so tempting. Far from it all, away from responsibilities and problems.

Yes, she wanted to run. Desperately.

During Council meetings, it was always so hard to remember why she kept trying. She had to keep thinking of her children, the ANBU who trusted her, her few friends, and the rare civilians who greeted her on the street. All those faces and names felt so distant during the meetings, but each one was her reason for staying and not running away forever.

"Do you know Grandfather Hiroshi’s story?" she asked.

Kakashi stepped back from her, letting out a tired sigh as he looked away.

"Is that what you want to talk about?"

"You’re right about me, but..." This time, Ryuna avoided his gaze as Kakashi studied her acknowledgment. Apparently, admitting personal faults wasn’t common for her. How could she say it without making things worse? "Answer me this: do you know my grandfather’s story?"

Kakashi didn’t answer immediately.

Hiroshi was an old man who easily blended into the background. It wasn’t that he was forgettable, but her grandfather preferred to be a supporting character in others’ stories. Not even that — he preferred to be an extra no one remembered, just a minor figure who helped those around him.

"I only know he was a samurai," Kakashi finally replied, walking to the treeline and leaning against one of the trees in the shade.

Her grandfather had a dojo and taught the art of the katana. His skills were respected by all, even veteran shinobi. Knowing he had once been a samurai wasn’t much information.

Ryuna followed Kakashi to the treeline but kept some distance.

"Grandpa was born noble, a distant cousin of the Daimyo of the Land of Iron. He gave it all up, wealth and status, to become a samurai because he wanted to save people. He wanted to be a hero," she said, remembering when she was little and her mother explained why her grandfather never discussed anything. "Under orders from his Daimyo, he killed many people, believing it was to save the country and its people. Traitors, terrorists, spies, and so on. He was an excellent fighter and truly proud of protecting people..."

"Did he get a mission to kill an innocent person?" Kakashi guessed.

He was in the Anbu, and Ryuna knew that the Third Hokage took all the missions that Konoha received, even those where they had to send their men to kill an entire political family, for example. Not even the children were to be spared, so the bloodline wouldn't have an heir. It was awful, and Ryuna had already started rejecting those missions, as she was already on the policy that the Village didn’t need to accept everything anymore.

Screw it, she could set some moral criteria for the jobs they’d accept from now on.

"No," she shook her head, looking at the ground, holding back tears. "The Daimyo lied. He had already sent my grandfather to kill innocent people whose only crime was striking a deal that displeased the Daimyo in some way. My grandfather discovered that, by following his leader’s orders, he had become the type of monster that people needed to protect themselves from. He wasn't the hero, but the villain. It would be like if the Hokage gave you an order, and you obeyed it, believing it was for Konoha's good, only to find out it wasn’t."

Kakashi didn’t say anything about it, just looked at the sky for a long time, thoughtful.

"In such a situation, a failure in one's honor, samurais often commit seppuku," Ryuna continued, ignoring Kakashi's slight shudder at the mention of the traditional suicide ritual her father had practiced. "Grandpa was going to do it, but he thought that his death wouldn’t change anything. It would only relieve his own conscience, but people would continue dying; it would just be another hand holding the blade. Grandpa didn’t want it to continue, but he also didn’t want to commit treason. He no longer trusted himself to know the best path."

It was so rare to see her grandfather smile. Ryuna could count on her fingers all the times she had seen him express happiness since she could remember.

"He swore back then never to take a stand on anything. Neither to defend nor to attack. He moved to a farm in the middle of nowhere and lived there until the day he came to Konoha," she said, feeling the cool breeze blowing and releasing a heavy sigh. "Since then, he teaches anyone who’s interested about what he learned as a samurai: how to fight, how to wield a sword, how to keep a calm mind. It doesn’t matter who the person is or their circumstances; he teaches anyone who shows up. He never took another life, although he did scare some thieves during the journey to Konoha."

She let out a weak laugh at the memory. A tear ran down her face.

"I know that no matter what happens, grandpa will never help me. Not because he doesn’t want to or doesn’t care, but because that was his vow, his penance for all the innocent lives he took," she continued. "In his way, grandpa is trying to change the world, giving people the skills to defend themselves if they want to, in case someone like him tries to kill them again."

That’s why Ryuna and Kaito trained with him in childhood, why Ryu sends his own students to learn with him, just like anyone she thinks could benefit from it. Her grandfather has been busy in recent years with the number of civilians who started attending his dojo.

"Death in life," Kakashi said darkly. "Heart beating and body moving, but refusing to live."

"Can you relate?" Ryuna couldn’t help but ask softly. Kakashi didn’t answer. "Sorry for yelling at you like that, it wasn’t right. I was angry about so many things: the Council, the Village, people in general, I think. Grandpa... You. They’re all people I try to protect, but somehow, refuse to be helped."

Kakashi let out a sigh and lay down at the base of the tree. He patted the ground next to him, and Ryuna released a sigh of relief at the small sign of acceptance. She lay down there, within reach of his touch. They stayed there for a few more minutes in complete silence, just looking at the clouds slowly passing in the sky.

"Protecting people is hard," Kakashi said, and Ryuna had a slight shudder of surprise because she hadn’t expected the conversation to continue. "I’ve worked as a bodyguard several times, but I’ve never been as stressed as I was when I thought Obito was dead, only asking me to take care of Rin. She was grieving, and I didn’t know how to protect her from the pain. She wanted to be a field medic, and I didn’t know how to take care of her when she went on missions. She wanted to move on, but I couldn’t help because I couldn’t do the same. Every time she went on a mission, I got more stressed... actually, I had problems whenever she was out of my sight."

"You’re the model of mental health," Ryuna couldn’t resist the dry comment.

"Thanks, I try," he mocked back.

He should talk to a psychologist, but you don’t trust someone with your deepest secrets just because their job is to listen. Trust doesn’t work that way, not with someone like Kakashi who trusts so few.

Still, Ryuna wasn’t the right person to advise anyone on feelings. She was never good at it. Ryuna was a practical person, give her a problem, a challenge, and she’d find a solution, but feelings? It wasn’t an exact science, there wasn’t a right answer with those things.

"I hate Konoha," she found herself saying, and immediately tensed, waiting for Kakashi’s judgment, but he said nothing. Slowly, Ryuna relaxed. "You were right before, I want to run away. All the time."

"Why stay?"

"For the same reason my grandpa didn’t commit seppuku, I think." Kakashi turned his head toward her and waited for an explanation. "He taught me: 'Live without shame, die without regrets.' He didn’t kill himself because he still had many regrets that he could at least try to fix. If I leave, what will happen? I think nothing will change, and that scares me. I look at Konoha heading down a path, and all I see ahead is more death and pain, and if no one changes things, that will be our fate."

"It wouldn’t be your fate if you ran away," Kakashi pointed out, and Ryuna rolled her eyes.

"I know the names of all the civilian kids who go to the playground with my children. I know how half of the merchants and the people living in my clan's quarters since the Fox Attack are doing. My children have friends they like," she said, closing her eyes at the end. "If I left, they would all stay. If they died, I’d be ashamed of running away and regret not trying to fix things."

"That’s a lot of people to protect."

"Yes."

They stayed a few more minutes in light silence before Kakashi spoke:

"What were you saying before about living with you?"

"We have spare rooms at home. I built a pretty big house," she said.

"I’ve been visiting Naruto, just so you know..."

"Visiting him in your Anbu uniform doesn’t count, and if that happens again, I’ll put you to work next month as my secretary," she threatened, completely serious. She had a team of secretaries, and still, they were overloaded. If Kakashi decided to test her, she wouldn’t hesitate to give all of them a break and overload Kakashi instead.

"What’s the problem with the uniform?"

"I’m not going to tell my kids that they can trust a masked stranger following and spying on them around, you pervert," she said grimly. "An Anbu member might be able to identify an imposter wearing a mask, but what about other people? Just because I trust you with them doesn’t mean everyone else does."

"You don’t trust our ninjas?"

"I do."

"Then?"

"Kashi, frankly," she raised an eyebrow. "Treason is, by definition, always committed by someone we trust."

"Mah ma, you make a good point," he conceded, then frowned and looked at her. "So why do you trust me with the kids?"

"I always have some summon nearby watching," Ryuna shrugged.

"And then people call me paranoid."

"You are paranoid."

"You are too."

"That has nothing to do with this."

"Why aren’t you forcing Obito and Rin to move too?"

"I’m working on Obito’s case, but at least those two visit regularly," she retorted, casting a reproachful glance at Kakashi, though there was no real heat there. "Naruto even calls them Obi-ji and Rin-ba. You, he calls Dog-san."

"Dog?"

"What, you want me to correct the designation of your mask?"

"Forget it."

"That’s what I thought."

"What do you mean by 'working on Obito’s case'?"

"I don’t see how that’s any of your business."

"Cruel, you wound me, and this is how you treat me right after I forgive you," Kakashi dramatically lamented, but the only thing Ryuna caught was:

"So you forgive me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"My apology."

"Did that happen?"

"Kakashi..."

"I think I have to go..."

"... don’t even think about it..."

"... I forgot to feed the dogs today and..."

"... I should shave your head once and for all and..."

"... you know how Bull gets when he’s hungry? So, I’m going..."

"... sparing the world from that ridiculous pompadour..."

Kakashi left.

Yugao:

Yugao knows she was wrong. It’s been a while, even before the enemy Kages knocked on the gates of Konoha looking for trouble, only to be expelled by her sensei. That event only showed how wrong she was.

When the Third Hokage decided that Ryu-sensei should be in charge of them, three clanless children who weren’t exceptional at anything, she thought they were given to her as some kind of punishment or something like that. That they weren’t good enough to have a real sensei, someone with experience.

She knows there are exceptional ninjas out there who are younger than her and who could even teach her, but Ryuna wasn’t famous. Yugao researched in a Bingo Book, which she convinced a chunin colleague, who had studied with her at the Academy and had already received his promotion, to let her take a look. Her sensei was never mentioned.

Hatake Kakashi, a renowned genius from the Village, was only 11 years old when he was listed in the Bingo Book, though she had heard whispers of a Uchiha boy being listed even younger recently. The thing was, Yugao researched and didn’t find anything about her sensei.

No one had any glorious stories to tell about her, and Yugao thought she might be in Anbu, which is why everything would be classified, but when she asked, her sensei told her she was only part of Anbu’s rescue team due to her medical skills.

At the time, it seemed like nonsense.

That was until Yugao saw her sensei fight the Raikage using a chakra blade because another clone was using the sword. That was until she saw Ryuna heal from several serious injuries and keep fighting like it was nothing.

In retrospect, there were signs she should have noticed. That she would have noticed if she hadn’t let her resentment cloud her judgment:

On their Rank C missions, they never felt in danger, things never got out of control, and her sensei always seemed to know what was going to happen before an enemy got close because she kept her summons watching over a long safety perimeter. When there was a fight, things were controlled, and Yugao never felt like she could die because her sensei was always watching, always close enough to help. On the few occasions one of them had come close to losing a fight, her sensei used something like the Fourth Hokage’s Hiraishin and clones to finish things, and everything was fine. There was no need to dwell on these events when no one had been seriously hurt, and the missions were successful.

It was so stupid of her.

A— big— part of her felt jealous.

People, especially civilians, talked about how the Hokage was reliable, that even before she rose in rank, she always helped people. They called her the problem solver because she always knew what needed to be done. If you had a financial problem? Ryuna could help you and teach you how to solve the issue if it came up again. Struggling to stick to the diet the doctor prescribed? Ryuna would dig up some recipes from her Library that were healthy and tasty and give them to you.

They were small things, but people remembered. Not everyone, but many. More than it seemed at first.

Yugao hated her sensei a little for being so perfect. For being strong and beautiful when she spent the years in the Academy defending herself from girls who called her ugly, saying that at least she wasn’t weak. Yugao hated her for being the same age as her, yet Ryuna was a jounin while she was still graduating from the Academy.

How is that fair? Talent? Yugao trained so hard, and yet it seems like it will never be enough.

Yugao remembers Ryuna at the Academy in those early years, so long ago, when everyone was so small, and the war was still ongoing. She remembers seeing a quiet girl who got easily distracted during class, making notes and drawings of symbols that she now knows were actually designs for Fuinjutsu.

Yugao even thought she might try to befriend her, but Ryuna had difficulty keeping simple conversations. It was harder to interact with her than Yugao expected, so she let it go and tried to make friends with other girls who were more interested in training than in boys. It was easy to move on.

At the time, she was one of the people who laughed when Ryuna proudly said in class that she wanted to be a Storage Seal specialist. She watched as Ryuna blushed in front of the whole class while hearing people laugh at her dream and didn’t care enough to stop.

Who’s laughing at Storage Seals now?

When she saw who her sensei would be, Yugao almost gave up on everything and begged the Third Hokage, but Ryuna didn’t even seem to remember her. Yugao realized she had been such an insignificant figure in her sensei’s life that she didn’t even remember they had met before.

Ah, if that doesn’t put things in perspective. It was only Yugao who clung to old grudges.

— What the hell am I doing with my life? — Yugao muttered, looking at the ceiling of her room.

The threat from Ryu-sensei a few days ago about keeping her as a genin forever aside, maybe it was time to leave the past behind and try something new.

If Ryuna could turn the most innocuous Seals into a weapon capable of defeating Kages, then why couldn’t Yugao find a way to create her own strength? Why did she need to follow the path that people had already defined for her as the “true strength”? That just made them predictable.

Yugao searched through her messy desk with her kunai sharpening materials until she found, crumpled and stained with oil, the training plan Ryu-sensei had made for her.

— I can do this — she said, determined to prove she was speaking the truth.

Itachi:

The sound of conversations and hurried footsteps echoed through the main building of Konoha as people rushed to complete various tasks. Individuals called out to each other in the hallways to do something or deliver a message. Uchiha Itachi didn’t think the building had ever seen so much activity inside, but it was a welcome change.

He walked ahead, as he was the heir to his clan, his hands firmly at his sides, wearing the indigo cloak typical of the Uchihas. Behind him, his cousin Shisui followed, maintaining a calm pace and occasionally waving at someone they passed, but with a slight tension reflected in his eyes that no one outside the clan should be able to identify. Both were there for a reason that could no longer be postponed.

When they reached the Hokage’s office doors, Itachi knocked twice, firmly but without aggression. A clear voice responded from the other side:

"You may enter."

They opened the door and were greeted by the Hokage, Takeshi Ryuna, sitting with her back straight and her face resting on her hand as she read a document from her desk. It was only her eyes that lifted from the paper to look at them. She immediately put the document in a drawer and smiled faintly, relieved to have an excuse to put the paperwork aside for a while.

"Uchiha-san, Uchiha-san. Good to see you. What brings you here?" she said, standing up to lead them to a nearby area, with a low table and three cushions arranged around it. She was truly enjoying the break and intended to extend it as much as possible without it being too obvious a retreat from work.

Without waiting for a response, Ryuna turned to prepare tea, moving with the ease of someone who had done this countless times before.

Itachi had known Ryu-nee for years, ever since she started bringing the newborn Naruto to spend time with Sasuke, and soon Karin, Isobu, and Kurama joined them. Garu and Shukaku were the most recent additions. It was very pleasant for Itachi to come home after a mission and hear the sounds of small children laughing and see his little brother smiling.

But his contentment only made the threat looming over his head all the more unbearable.

The two Uchihas sat down. Itachi, with his usual impassive expression, watched Ryuna carefully. He knew this was a crucial moment, and the words chosen could determine the future of his clan and the village. Shisui, beside him, seemed slightly uncomfortable, wanting to just say everything and end the suspense, but he remained silent.

Shisui was an Anbu and trusted the Hokage to protect his people, but his greatest fear was that this might mean the Uchiha clan would be sacrificed to protect the rest of Konoha. As painful as it was, Itachi knew that Ryu-nee wouldn’t harm Sasuke with the closeness of his brother to the Hokage’s children, so he could handle whatever else needed to be sacrificed. Even if he had to pay for it with his own life.

Itachi had known Ryuna for so long, but he had always been too busy to sit alone with her and have a proper conversation without his parents judging everything. Moreover, since she became Hokage, she barely spent a few minutes talking to his mother when picking up the children before leaving.

Itachi had heard from his father and others who attended the Council meetings how Ryuna seemed to have changed and become much more aggressive and relentless. Itachi feared the future, but he knew that someone like the Hokage, who had been able to defeat an entire army, should be able to subjugate the Uchiha clan if necessary.

After a few minutes, Ryuna placed three cups on the table and sat down.

"Very well, what is it?" Ryu-nee sipped her tea, allowing Itachi and Shisui to do the same.

"Before we talk about this... may I ask a question?" Itachi ventured, and Shisui gave him a questioning look, which he ignored with practiced ease. Ryuna made a hand gesture for him to proceed, and Itachi spoke: "What is the duty of a Hokage?"

Ryuna tilted her head in a feline motion that reminded him of Haruki, the leopard summon who spent so much time at his house when the children were there. The summon had referred to the Hokage as if she were its own cub, which made Itachi think that maybe Ryu-nee had been raised by the feline.

"Well, in my opinion, my duty is to protect Konoha as best as I can."

"But what is Konoha?"

Ryuna smiled an ironic smile as if remembering another conversation, but she didn’t explain it.

"Many things make up Konoha: the houses, the streets, the people, the trees" she made a vague gesture toward the window and the village beyond it "My priority is to protect what cannot be replaced or rebuilt."

"The people" Shisui agreed in a soft, distracted voice as he stared at his empty cup. Ryuna moved ahead and refilled it with tea.

"Yes, life is the only thing that, once lost, is lost forever" she agreed as she leaned back for another sip from her cup "Does that answer satisfy you, Itachi?"

He considered it before asking again.

"Why do you think people's lives are important?" As a ninja, he had been taught to kill since he could remember; he was taught that he should accept death when it came if it allowed his comrades to complete the mission. Despite fiercely protecting his brother, he couldn’t truly say that he valued life individually. Perhaps he could claim to value it collectively? That’s why the very idea of “war” disturbed him so much; it was so many deaths for foolish reasons "Is it the Will of Fire?"

"I think it’s one way to call it, yes, although different people have different definitions of what the Will is" she said, thoughtful "For me, the world is like a river; this is the Will that the people in Uzushio believed in. New water comes from the springs, our children, and they keep the river flowing, creating currents and waterfalls. If the spring water dies early, the river doesn’t flow, and the water stagnates. That’s not good. My job is to keep the river flowing, and for that to be possible, I need to make changes to the things around us."

"But what if the spring water brings bad ideas? Like poison" he asked.

"The water doesn’t poison itself suddenly; someone needs to do that" Ryuna corrected "But it’s true that sometimes the changes the new waters bring are not good. There’s not much you can do about that except try to teach better, because changes are inevitable, and every change seems scary. As long as the water keeps flowing, things will keep changing, and the bad changes will be replaced by others. Good or bad is just a matter of perspective, and it’s not for me to be that kind of judge of character. Now is our time to cause changes, and in the future, we must make room for those who come after us."

"But only if the spring water keeps pushing the river" Shisui said, looking at Ryuna with intensity "Was this the Will of Uzushio?"

"Yes and yes" Ryu-nee smiled at her cousin "That’s why people used the Whirlpool as the symbol of the Village with such pride. Water always flowing in its own centers of gravity, and when one center dies, another arises. That’s how whirlpools are, always flowing."

Itachi and Shisui had gone there with the decision to ask for help, but this conversation was more for Itachi’s resolution, hoping to understand the Hokage, and not just Ryu-nee, whom he had grown accustomed to over the years. His parents actually liked her a lot, but the elders were not too happy. Traditionalists as they were, having a woman, especially such a young one, in power made them fear for the future.

"So? I suppose you didn’t come all the way here to ask me about philosophy" she asked while sipping her tea with a half-ironic smile.

Shisui was the one who suggested going to the Hokage for help first. Itachi would have kept trying to resolve things on his own or sticking to orders, but his cousin knew they couldn’t move forward alone. He knew her from all the rumors during his time in the Anbu and from what he had seen during the few times he was assigned as the Hokage’s Guard.
After a moment of silence, Itachi broke the tension:

"Hokage-sama, may we speak alone?" Itachi asked. Being the Uchiha heir, he could make such a request more easily than Shisui.

Ryuna tilted her head in curiosity. She raised her hand and made a signal to her guards before pulling out a paper seal from who knows where and placing it on the table. Itachi could feel the seal activating and isolating their conversation so that no one outside could eavesdrop.
He took a deep breath before speaking:

"Hokage-sama, we’ve come here because we have a problem... something that can no longer be ignored" he breathed deeply "Our clan... there’s been dissatisfaction among my relatives for a while. Right after your appointment and with Danzou’s escape, things calmed down for a time, my father defended that you would be fair to the Uchihas, and many members of my clan had problems with the former elder, so they were happy with his loss of credibility. But... it’s been almost months since your appointment, and the elders haven’t seen any improvements..."

Itachi hesitated at certain points, looking at Ryuna and hoping to decipher her expression to know whether to continue or not. He only hoped to prevent a civil war. Anything but that. How many senseless deaths would it take before people realized this would lead them nowhere but to more deaths?

"There’s been talk of a revolt" he continued and saw how, for a fraction of a second, the Hokage tensed before her expression softened back to what it was before: calm and expectant. Artificial "My father keeps trying to appease them, but the Hokage’s lack of dialogue with the Uchihas and her recent authoritarian policies have left our elders worried about the future."

Ryuna remained silent, listening attentively, her head slightly tilted. Her eyes fixed on Shisui, who seemed hesitant.

"And you?" she asked "Anything to add?"

He sighed, placing the cup back on the table. Shisui took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice had a certainty that Itachi lacked.

"Hokage-sama, I believe we can still avoid a civil war" he said, his voice heavy with an idealism that contrasted with Itachi’s cold pragmatism "I have a secret technique from my clan that can resolve this without bloodshed... But I would prefer that this be a last resort."

Ryuna raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but also cautious.

"And why is that, if it could avoid a tragedy?"

"It’s an invasive method... cruel, depending on the perspective" Shisui clarified, looking away as he always did when talking about his Mangekyou, even if only indirectly "I’d rather not submit my clan to it if possible. Besides, it’s a one-time use. There won’t be a second chance."

Ryuna didn’t ask for details about the technique itself, having her own clan secrets to protect, and simply made a sound of understanding while continuing her tea. She had a distant and concerned expression, but also a distinct lack of surprise that left Itachi worried.

Ryuna leaned back against the cushion, crossing her arms. After a moment, she finally responded:  

"Itachi, Shisui, what you are bringing me is a dangerous situation for both the Village and the Uchiha clan. In the worst case, we will destroy each other, and the other Nations will finish off whoever is left." She spoke with resignation and a tired sigh. "Even so, I hope you understand that if I am to act based on your words, I need to be sure that they are trustworthy."

She leaned forward, her eyes fixing on the two young Uchihas with intensity. Itachi and Shisui straightened, preparing for what they knew would be a test that would decide their fate, their clan's, and Konoha's. They needed to prove that they were serious.

"I need both of you to undergo a loyalty test. This test will determine how we proceed from here."  

Itachi nodded without hesitation, while Shisui seemed to reflect for a moment before agreeing as well. His cousin had a tension in his body, as if preparing for a fight to the death, which, as far as they knew, could very well be the case.

"As you wish, Hokage-sama," Itachi replied, his voice firm and filled with resolve. For Sasuke, he would see this through.

Ryuna smiled faintly, but her eyes remained serious.  
"Very well. Come with me."

The two Uchihas stood up, bowing slightly before leaving the office.

***

The room was cold and empty, with bare concrete walls and yellowed lighting that seemed to intensify the oppression of the place. A single metal table divided the space, accompanied by two simple chairs. In the farthest corner, there was a reinforced door, and one of the walls displayed a large mirror. Itachi knew he was being watched, even if the mirror revealed nothing but his own reflection. He sat with his back straight, hands resting on his thighs, his expression as impassive as a statue.

Ryuna was standing in front of him, casually leaning against the table. Though her posture was relaxed, her eyes conveyed a gravity that seemed to weigh heavily on the environment.  

"Do you understand the purpose of this, don’t you?" Ryuna asked, crossing her arms.

Itachi met her gaze, only a slight hesitation visible. He needed her help now, and there was no turning back without being labeled a traitor.  

"I do, Hokage-sama."  

She tilted her head as if assessing his sincerity. After a moment, she raised her hand and gestured toward the door. An Anbu entered silently, wearing the fox mask and carrying a young boy by the arm.

The boy was around seven years old, thin and small, with unruly brown hair and large eyes, now red and swollen from crying. His clothes, the standard Academy uniform, were wrinkled and dirty, as if he had been torn from some dark corner without warning. He looked at Itachi with a mix of fear and hope, as if the young Uchiha were a savior rather than an executioner.

After releasing the boy with mechanical coldness, the Anbu extended a tanto toward Itachi. He hesitated for a second, uncertain, before taking the hilt and wielding the blade, heavier than he had anticipated. Afterward, the Anbu left the room.

Ryuna maintained her voice calm and unemotional.  

"This boy committed treason by providing sensitive information about Konoha citizens to a ninja from Kirigakure, information that resulted in the deaths of innocent people," she said, and Itachi watched the boy shrink in fear and guilt. He had truly done it. "As an Academy student, ninja law applies to him. You know what the punishment for treason is, Itachi."  

"The death penalty," he spoke, and it felt as if emotion had left his voice. It was as if he were on a mission, forced to kill enemies once again. "I thought your duty was to protect the... wellspring."  

"I will protect the wellspring the best I can, even if it means sacrificing a few young shoots to do so," she said, without seeming to care. "I need to think of the greater good, Itachi."  

Itachi remained silent after that, but his gaze briefly shifted to the child. His former team members used to complain about how he seemed insensitive during training or when going on missions. They said it was strange and frightening. Itachi didn’t want the last thing this boy would see to be something that frightened him.  

He wanted to let him pass in a happy dream, even if it was just a lie.  

"I want you to carry out the sentence," said Ryuna, her eyes firm on the young Uchiha.

The boy began to sob, mumbling incoherently, but there was no response from Itachi. He slowly stood up, every movement meticulously controlled.  

His mind was a white noise, where all he could think of was the order he needed to fulfill to prevent a war. If he did this, everything would be fine, right?  

"Do you hesitate?" Ryuna asked, not in a tone of provocation, but curiosity.

"No," Itachi replied, his voice as calm as a lake at sunset.  

He walked over to the boy, standing before him. His black eyes met the child's, which were trembling uncontrollably. For a moment, it seemed like Itachi would say something, but instead, he just let his eye glow red, casting a genjutsu.  

In a swift and precise motion, he raised the blade. The child, lost in a dream, did not react, and his body collapsed to the ground after having his throat slit, lifeless.  

Itachi remained still for a few seconds, his eyes fixed on the ground where blood pooled and refusing to look at the small body. There were no tears, no expression—just an emptiness that seemed to consume any emotion.  

"The sentence has been carried out, Hokage-sama," he said, rising and refusing to look up, as his sharingan remained active, and Itachi could not deactivate it, no matter how hard he tried. He felt as if something inside him had irreversibly shattered.

Itachi didn’t think he would ever be able to call the Hokage "Ryu-nee" again.  

Ryuna stood in front of him.  

"And now, what do you ask of me, Uchiha Itachi?"  

Itachi kneeled, keeping his head down and refusing to make eye contact, his voice marked by a rare hint of pleading.  

"I ask you to prevent the uprising. Not for my clan, but for the village."  

Ryuna remained silent, her decision concealed behind a mask of neutrality. Itachi was dismissed from the room, and he left in the blink of an eye, leaving the Hokage alone in the room with the child's corpse.

Fugaku:

The room was as austere as the one he could see through the spy mirror, with gray concrete walls and a narrow, tall window that let in a beam of natural light. Fugaku stood with his hands behind his back and a straight posture, his eyes fixed on the spot where Itachi had been only moments before.

He had watched everything.

The blade in hand. The genjutsu. The precise cut. The child's body falling lifeless... His son kneeling and talking about his clan’s rebellion to the Hokage. He had betrayed them.

And then, the revelation. The child's body rose like a zombie, and soon he was looking at two clones of the Hokage in the next room, while another version of her stood right beside him, watching the scene with him. He couldn’t understand how this was happening because Fugaku had activated his Sharingan for a moment and could have sworn that child was real, but he would also admit that he had been more focused on his son. Even so, his eye should have been able to identify a normal clone.

Fugaku remembered that the Hokage had used a different type of clone to fight against Iwa and Kumo, and this was probably the same technique. He decided to put it aside in favor of more urgent matters.

His posture was tense even though Fugaku strongly suspected that Ryuna already knew about the potential Uchiha rebellion if the complete lack of surprise from her clones with Itachi was any evidence. What did this mean for him and his family?

Ryuna was staring at the place where Itachi had been as if looking at a coffin, though her upright posture contrasted with the sorrow in her expression.

"Uchiha-sama," she said before turning to face Fugaku and look him directly in the eye, something few people dared to do. "Now that you’ve seen this, I believe we can discuss my concerns."

Fugaku let out a sigh before accepting the inevitable. He positioned himself in front of the Hokage, his features expressionless, but his heart heavy with doubts and worries. The only thing he could think about was possible strategies or negotiations that could save his clan and family.

"If this is about my clan..." he decided to get ahead and, hopefully, control the direction of the conversation.

"We will talk about that later," Ryuna dismissed with a hand gesture for him to stop speaking, waiting for a moment of silence before continuing. "Uchiha-sama, do you know how many people live in Konoha?"

Fugaku blinked, surprised by the line of questioning, but he would play along.

"About 26 thousand people, I believe," he answered.

"26,483 to be more precise," Ryuna nodded, looking toward the next room where only one of her clones was left, cleaning blood from the floor. "One person alone cannot take care of the interests and needs of everyone, which is why the Council representatives exist. Each one is responsible for a group of people with similar needs, and they can ask for my help when needed."

Fugaku was part of the Council; he knew these things. This conversation was leaving him more and more confused, but he wouldn’t question Ryuna now. Not when his clan was in danger, and the old Ryuna, the one who defended the Uchiha against Danzo's prejudice, seemed to have become someone else. The intelligent yet kind girl who used to spend some nights at his house with the children felt like a distant memory.

"I understand that, Hokage-sama."

"I need to trust that the people who make up the Council have the best interests of those they represent when they attend the meetings," she said.

"Hokage-sama, I swear I’m trying to ease things with the elders..."

"I’m not talking about you, Fugaku," Ryuna interrupted him with her eyes closed, and Fugaku finally realized what this conversation was about. Why had she brought him here and made him watch his son’s actions? "Itachi will be the next head of the Uchiha, but he does not have the best interests of the clan in mind, but Konoha’s."

"Shouldn’t that be the same thing?"

"No, it should not," she scoffed humorlessly, rolling her eyes in a way that made her look like the old Ryuna for a moment. "My job is to take care of the whole while the Council members take care of smaller groups. I find a way to reconcile everyone, to maintain peace. I’m the glue that holds together all the different groups of people that make up Konoha. But I can’t do that if I’m too busy trying to take care of a specific group because their representative is too busy trying to do my job."

Fugaku furrowed his brow.

"All the ninjas of Konoha defend the Village, and yet they are not doing your job for you," he pointed out.

"Yes, I know, it’s just that in the case of the clan heads, I need to trust that they are defending the best interests of the people they represent, or I can’t do my job right," she tried to explain again. "If everyone does their part right, then protecting Konoha is protecting the clans, and meeting the needs of the clans is defending Konoha. It’s a cycle, but if someone doesn’t do their part..."

"Then what benefits Konoha doesn’t necessarily benefit the Village," Fugaku concluded grimly. Wasn’t that exactly what was happening now? Wasn’t that why his family was being excluded from the Village they helped found?

"Your clan’s situation wasn’t your fault, but the administration’s," she bowed 90 degrees to him, and Fugaku felt his breath catch. The Hokage shouldn’t bow to anyone, the back of her neck exposed to a lethal attack if he wished. How brave of her to do this in front of the head of a clan planning a revolt. "I’m working on it, and if you agree, I’d like to arrange a meeting at your complex to discuss possible solutions with everyone."

She was still bowed.

"Ryu... Hokage-sama, please, stand up," he said, a little agitated by the unexpected situation. This certainly wasn’t what he thought would happen when his conspiracy was discovered. Fugaku bowed as deeply as she did, in respect. "Yes, Hokage-sama, I am willing to arrange a meeting with the members of my clan... Thank you for caring."
He heard the sound of a sigh.

"Stand up, Uchiha-sama," she said, sounding tired. Fugaku did as she asked, and she studied his expression for a moment before continuing. "Let me know when you’ve arranged things with your clan, but going back to the subject that worries me most... Itachi is a very efficient shinobi in the field, but I’m concerned about where he places his loyalty."
Fugaku felt his chest tighten. His son’s complete lack of expression was unnatural. He could tell there had been kindness in that execution, in the way he put the supposed child under a genjutsu before slitting its throat. Kind to a child he hadn’t known was just a clone.

"Itachi is an obedient boy, desperate to maintain peace at any cost," she frowned. "I’m not asking how he became like this, Fugaku, because I know well that sometimes we do bad things to protect the people we love. I know Itachi’s idealism must have worried you when we were at war and there was no sign of it ending anytime soon. The idea of your son dying in the field because he hesitated to kill an opponent must have tormented you."

Fugaku’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t interrupt. He refused to remember the sleepless nights he spent thinking about what could happen to his son if the war hadn’t ended when he was old enough to graduate from the Academy. His little boy who liked to pick flowers from the training field instead of doing katas.

"I can’t say I’m different in that regard. I have the same fears as you about my children," it was still strange hearing her speak about those children as if they were her biological children, but he could understand how she had grown attached to them in such a way. "But your need to make him strong also made him isolated. Your attempt to teach him discipline made him submissive. Your attempt to turn him into a spy made him manipulable."

"Hokage-sama..." Fugaku responded, his voice controlled. The elders’ plans to send Itachi to Anbu to spy on Konoha’s secrets had been thwarted by the Hokage herself when she refused to allow anyone under 15 into the Black-ops. That, in fact, was part of what made the clan members suspicious, believing she was refusing a promotion Itachi deserved.

Ryuna shook her head slowly, as if already expecting this, and again gestured for him to wait before speaking.

"I’m not putting all the blame on you, Fugaku," Ryuna reassured him. "Did Mikoto try to stop you from training your son so extensively? Did any member of your clan oppose the plans the elders had for the boy?"

No, the answer was no.

Fugaku kept his gaze fixed on her, but his mind was turbulent. He knew there was truth in her words, but hearing them was still difficult. He didn’t know what to feel about any of this. Nothing in this meeting was going as he thought it would.

"I’m not saying this to accuse you or your clan of irreparable flaws, Fugaku," she continued, her voice softening slightly. "You are an excellent clan leader, a strong leader, and an admirable police chief. Mikoto, I know, is a perfect wife according to traditions, and the members of your clan have always worked diligently for this Village. No one is perfect, and that includes you and your clan. But I hope you reconsider your parenting methods and let me make a few suggestions?"

He pondered those words. He could teach his clan’s secrets to Itachi, but if he didn’t find a way to improve soon, the Uchiha clan would have an heir who was easily manipulable. A puppet whose strings anyone clever enough could pull. He had seen with his own eyes what Itachi did at Ryuna’s command and knew the Hokage hadn’t used him for her purposes because she didn’t want to, not because she couldn’t.

What had he done to his son?

"What do you suggest, Hokage-sama?" he finally asked, his voice deep and measured as he tried to contain the storm in his chest that threatened to bring out his Sharingan.

"First, I would like to transfer Itachi from active duty to the Academy, as a part-time teaching assistant for practical lessons," Ryuna explained, and she ignored how Fugaku flinched slightly at the idea of demoting his son to a mere teacher, but then he remembered the fame of the Takeshi clan and kept quiet. "This should help him interact with other children in a calm environment, with no lives at risk, and it will force him to mediate many petty fights. In the other half of the day, I think he could help take care of victims or witnesses of crimes at the police station, which should help him develop empathy and see how his clan’s work has been helping the Village as a whole and the people on a more individual level."

Fugaku took a deep breath. He knew she was right, but admitting it was hard. He knew Itachi was very isolated, and that wasn’t good for a future leader. How could people trust someone they didn’t know?

"What do you want from me?" he decided to ask. He had caused this situation by being a terrible father, and now he wanted to help fix this mess.

Ryuna tilted her head, looking at him attentively.

"I want you to teach him to argue," she said, and Fugaku nearly choked on the air. "I want you to teach him to stand against you, against the elders. I want you to teach him to defend what he believes is right, to learn how to plan how to govern, not just how to complete a mission."

Fugaku hesitated for a moment. Teaching his son to be a rebel? That was not something he thought any other father had ever heard. How sad it was that Itachi needed to learn these things.

"I will do it," he finally replied.

Ryuna smiled, a gesture that seemed both a relief and a sign of mutual respect.

"Thank you, Fugaku. If you need help, don't hesitate to ask," she said. "Or maybe, if you'd like, I can lend you some books from my clan's library on teaching methods? Well, just let me know."

As he left the room, Fugaku's mind was in turmoil. The image he had of Ryuna before she became Hokage and after was very different, but now it seemed like she hadn’t changed that much after all. Maybe he should be less cautious in the Council meetings from now on? His concern that having the Uchiha's support would hinder her more than help seemed a bit foolish now, after the girl had confronted everyone she possibly could.

Now, how would he schedule that meeting between his rebellious clan and the Fifth Hokage?

Ryuna:

The room had raw concrete walls and a yellowish lighting that seemed to intensify the oppressive atmosphere. A metal table dominated the center of the space, accompanied by simple chairs. In the corner, a reinforced door indicated that this was a place for final decisions. Ryuna was leaning against the table, her arms crossed in a relaxed posture that did not match the gravity of the situation.

Before her stood Uchiha Shisui, his eyes serious and attentive. They were almost the same age, with Shisui being one year younger, but there was an unusual maturity in his gaze, something you would see in any child who grew up on the battlefield like they both did. As usual, he seemed to be calculating all possible outcomes. Shunshin no Shisui, as they called him, was known for taking a common technique used by jounin and pushing it to its limits, exploring its full potential.

Ryuna couldn’t say she didn’t like Shisui a little, but she wasn’t showing any of her true thoughts or feelings right now. It was very important to know what kind of person he was, because if he was exposing the Uchiha revolt just to incite more conflict or weaken Konoha, Ryuna couldn’t afford to find that out later.

Ryuna watched him for a few moments before speaking, her voice low but heavy with weight.

"Do you understand why you’re here, Shisui?"

He kept his posture straight, arms by his sides. His voice was firm, but there was a hint of uncertainty.

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

Ryuna gestured to the door. An Anbu entered silently, carrying a child by the arm. He was a thin boy, perhaps seven years old, with messy brown hair and wide, frightened eyes. He was crying silently, trembling like a leaf in the wind. The Anbu released him without ceremony and extended a blade to Shisui.

"This boy betrayed the village," Ryuna explained, with no emotion in her voice, following the script she had created for herself. She felt dirty, like Danzou, as she uttered each word, even knowing it wasn’t real. "He provided information to Kirigakure that resulted in the deaths of several Konoha citizens."

The boy sobbed, instinctively retreating away from both the Hokage and Shisui.

"You know what the punishment for betrayal is, don’t you?" Ryuna asked, her eyes fixed on the young Uchiha.

Shisui lowered his eyes to the blade that was handed to him. He didn’t take it; it was on the table near the Hokage, but the handle facing his direction.

"Death," he replied, but his voice had a different tone than Itachi’s. It wasn’t empty; it was heavy with something harder to define. "Hokage-sama, I don’t think he understood what he was doing. He probably didn’t even realize that the information was important."

Ryuna tilted her head, pretending to consider. Questioning was good, very good.

"His ignorance won’t bring back the lives that were lost because of his actions, will it?" she decided to push a little more. Ryuna took a step forward, getting close enough to look him in the eye. "Carry out the sentence and show me that you’re loyal to Konoha."

Shisui hesitated. He looked at the boy and then at Ryuna, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"He’s just a child," Shisui said finally, his voice firm but with a pleading tone. "What happened to the Will of Fire or the Will of the Whirlpool?"

"He caused the deaths of Konoha citizens," Ryuna retorted, with the same methodical calm. "Do you think I would be defending my Will of Fire if I chose to spare him at the expense of the entire Village?"

Shisui didn’t answer immediately, and Ryuna could almost see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, trying to find a solution to this. He positioned himself between the boy and the Hokage, extending his arm like a barrier.

"Hokage-sama, if the village needs justice, let me pay his debt. Let him live, and I’ll do whatever you want."

Ryuna raised an eyebrow, a flash of curiosity crossing her eyes before it disappeared. Ah, Shisui was turning out to be quite interesting.

"Are you willing to commit yourself for him? A traitor?" she studied how he didn’t hesitate. Ryuna no longer thought he had gone to expose his clan’s actions out of malice, nor that he was trying to manipulate her, but she still needed to know how far he was willing to go. "What if I asked you to use that special technique of yours for me? That one-time-use technique."

Shisui immediately tensed, his shoulders stiff and his expression closed. If he were someone trying to destroy Konoha from within, he probably would have done his best to please Ryuna and put himself in a position of trust so he could influence her more easily.

A fire ignited within Shisui, and his eyes glowed red with a pinwheel spinning threateningly instead of the familiar tomoe that Ryuna knew should have been there. A mutated Sharingan? Was that the ability he referred to earlier?

"I’ll use my technique to stop you before I allow you to use it as you wish," Shisui hissed, his posture one of someone ready to fight.

"That’s treason, Shisui," Ryuna commented indifferently, though inside she was ecstatic.

"What you’re doing too," he narrowed his eyes, only a thin red stripe visible. "I trusted you, that’s why I came to ask for your help!"

Great, now Ryuna felt guilty for even testing him. Even so, the results were really promising.

"He’s just a child," Shisui repeated, with more emphasis this time. He was still trying to convince her to spare the boy. "There’s still time for him to learn what loyalty means."

Ryuna tilted her head, as if evaluating the sincerity of his words.

"If I accept this, Shisui, you know what it means, don’t you?" she smiled the smile of her sensei: a snake ready to strike. "You will owe me a favor."

He nodded without hesitation.

"Yes," he hesitated before adding, "Anything that doesn’t go against the Will of Fire, yes."

Ryuna kept her gaze fixed on his for a few more seconds before stepping back, her expression neutral as always.

"Very well. Let’s see if your actions are as noble as your words."

Without another word, she left the room, the door slamming shut behind her. Shisui remained there, his body between the boy and the emptiness the Hokage had left behind, like an unshakable shield.

Ryuna really hadn’t expected to find someone like him so soon. How fortunate.

***

Ryuna slowly opened her eyes, as if each movement required an unimaginable effort. The dim light in the room blinded her for a moment, forcing her to blink a few times before the surroundings began to take shape. The strong smell of alcohol and medicinal herbs filled the air, typical of Konoha’s hospital wing... Except it wasn’t the Konoha General Hospital, but the Medical School Hospital she had built, though it still wasn’t operational.

The white ceiling above her head seemed farther than usual, and the weight on her body was suffocating. The pain followed quickly, like an overwhelming wave that seemed to radiate from all her muscles and bones at once. Her throat was dry, and her lungs burned as if they had been set on fire. She tried to move, but even the slightest effort made her nerves scream in protest.

"You finally woke up." The firm voice, yet filled with relief, made Ryuna shift her gaze to the side. There was Tsunade, sitting in a chair beside the bed, her posture stiff but the worried look behind all that aggression. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my organs have liquefied," Ryuna said, but her voice came out raspier than she expected.

"Not far from the truth. Do you have any idea how much work it took to keep you alive?" Tsunade let out a short, irritated sigh, which... Fine, Ryuna would admit it was deserved, considering she had kind of forced Tsunade to help. Still, part of her felt a bit smug for managing to make the Sannin stay.

"You should be dead." Tsunade leaned forward, her voice now carrying a stern tone. "And you could still slip back into a coma if you don’t take care of yourself. So how about not being stubborn for at least five minutes?"

Ryuna forced a weak smile, the best she could do at that moment.

"Five minutes? I think I can be a good girl for five minutes," she conceded, magnanimous.

Tsunade rolled her eyes and banged her forehead against the wall. Ryuna let out a little chuckle that was quickly stifled so the Sannin wouldn’t see, but when Tsunade quickly turned back to her with a fierce look in her eyes, Ryuna felt duly intimidated.

"Rest, you stubborn brat!" Tsunade pointed a stern finger at her, and Ryuna felt properly threatened. "You’ll need time before getting out of that bed, and if you try to leave without my permission, I won’t hesitate to tie you down."

As Tsunade moved away to check something on the table next to her, Ryuna took a deep breath—or at least tried to. She really needed to perfect her seals, or her healing would end up killing her, but she’d think about that when breathing didn’t hurt so much.

Ah, how hungry she was.