How we choose to live (english version)

Kakashi:

Kakashi was adjusting to the new house. It was strange—not in a bad way, just strange. Of course, living under the same roof made it difficult to avoid physical contact with the little pests that Ryuna called her children, but Kakashi wasn’t a jounin for nothing.

He didn’t completely avoid the children… He even waved at them from time to time, and he could swear the child named Isobu once said he looked like a ghost—hovering around, silently watching before disappearing. Sometimes, he even moved things around the house. Yes, the children seemed to believe Kakashi was some kind of haunting presence. At first, Naruto and Shukaku had trouble with the resident ghost, letting out high-pitched screams every time they saw him. But after a few days, everyone reached the consensus that he was a benign ghost.

Kakashi wasn’t sure how he should feel about being considered a ghost. It reminded him of how Ryuna had once yelled at him for spending more time with the dead than with the living. He really had been isolating himself, hadn’t he?

He made a conscious effort to try to interact with people. He carefully observed how Obito and Rin played with the children in the house and tried to mimic them. He brought random toys and even summoned his pack to distract the kids. He successfully got them to call him "Kashi-nii." He would have preferred "Kakashi," but a wise ninja knows how to pick his battles.

He watched with fascination as Ryuna hovered around the children, always offering casual touches—affectionate pats, playful nose pinches, or tickles. The children seemed to like it when she did it, though they weren’t as enthusiastic when it came from anyone else.

A few days ago, right after the attack on Konoha, Ryuna had left a few of those strange, indestructible clones scattered throughout the village. It got to the point where things became really confusing about who everyone should report to. Where was the original? But now, there were only three Ryunas around: one at the orphanage, available for consultation as the matriarchs adjusted to their new jobs; one in the Hokage Tower; and the last one at home with the children—not that she was idle, almost always buried in a Fuinjutsu book, working on a new project or improvement.

Kakashi couldn’t help but notice that Ryuna was becoming a woman. And a very beautiful one, objectively speaking. It was a good thing she was no longer going on missions, because he didn’t like to think about the kind of assignments she would be sent on looking like that.

Kakashi shook his head and looked away when he realized he had been staring at the curve of Ryuna’s neck—his Hokage—as she read, lying on the floor, surrounded by her children. He tried to ignore the scent of the den full of pups, how comforting it was, how it helped him relax his muscles. How strange.

His sleep habits were improving, as was his diet. His body was reflecting that—his previously lean frame was gaining more muscle. He was a little relieved there were no more growth spurts because, if he had grown this much while his body was under constant stress, he really didn’t want to find out how big he would have been if he had grown under healthier conditions. He was an Anbu; no matter how much some people liked being giants, that would be incredibly inconvenient for missions. No, he was already taller than average—anything beyond that was excessive.

Over the past two days, Garu, the red-haired Uzumaki boy with sea-green eyes, had been settling around him. He didn’t talk or anything—just sat beside him and played with his toys, always sticking right next to Kakashi. Too close for comfort, but Kakashi forced himself to stay put.

Kakashi felt a bit nostalgic looking at the boy’s hair, the shade slightly different from Kushina’s. But it was unlikely the boy was a pure Uzumaki. Of the six children, only half had the clan’s characteristic red hair—Karin, Kurama, and Garu. Naruto was blond like his father, Shukaku had sand-colored hair, and Isobu’s was blue. Still, Ryuna assured him that they were all Uzumaki.

Once again, he forced himself to stop staring. This was why he hated being surrounded by people—his mind always got lost in memories, and he ended up staring. It was weird as hell.

Ah, how he wanted to read Icha Icha. At least then he would have something to look at that wouldn’t bring back memories of people who were long gone.

Of course, his new daydream was interrupted by a rubber ball hitting his bent knee, close to the red-haired child’s head. Kakashi saw that the culprit was the sand-haired boy. He was the youngest, but for some reason, Kakashi was certain he was also the most troublesome—and that was saying something, considering Naruto, Kurama, and Karin were part of the group. In fact, the only quiet ones, judging by his observations so far, were Isobu and Garu.

When another ball came flying, this one aimed directly at the distracted red-haired boy’s head, Kakashi reached out and caught it before it could hit. Garu looked up at him with wide eyes before breaking into a grin and turning to stick his tongue out at Shukaku, who pouted.

Kakashi… was being used as a shield? Was that why the boy insisted on staying so close to him? Smart.

It was amusing to watch these people who spent so much time together. Take Garu and Shukaku, for example—one would expect the redhead to have problems with his younger brother constantly bothering him. But Kakashi had never seen the two truly fight, aside from occasional exchanges of funny faces. Sometimes, Kakashi could swear Garu even anticipated one of his brother’s pranks—and he blamed that on sheer exposure.

Shukaku, Naruto, Karin, and Kurama, in that order, were the most chaotic. But Isobu and Garu were far from saints and had their own share of trouble. When Ryuna dragged everyone outside to exercise, the complex’s yard turned into a jungle. The law of the strongest prevailed.

Ryuna taught them through games, which included small chakra control exercises and physical activities. Naruto, Kurama, Isobu, and Shukaku had noticeable difficulty with chakra control and took longer to grasp the game. But they eventually got the hang of it after Ryuna sat with each of them and helped them feel their own chakra, placing hers inside their bodies. Later, she explained to Kakashi that it was difficult to sense chakra because it was always there—it was like trying to smell your own scent. To help them, Ryu used neutral chakra from medical ninjutsu so they could feel that strange energy flowing through their coils. After that, they at least knew where to focus.

"They're kinetic learners," Ryuna explained as if that made perfect sense. Seeing Kakashi’s blank expression, she smiled and elaborated, "It means they learn best by doing—by moving—rather than sitting still. The games will help with that once they’re able to sense their own chakra."

The first game she taught them involved standing an arm’s length apart within chalk-drawn circles and sticking a leaf to their skin with chakra. Whoever managed to steal their opponent’s leaf first—without leaving their circle—won. The catch was that they couldn’t touch their own leaf with their hands, so if they wanted to move it, they had to do so with chakra alone.

That was fine chakra control—something even genin struggled with.

Of course, the kids couldn’t do it… yet. Ryuna never told them it was a ninja skill or that it would be useful in combat. To them, it was just part of a fun game, even if it was a bit tiring. Karin, whom Kakashi suspected to be a natural sensor, was the only one who managed to move the leaf on her skin without using her hands. The others simply twisted and squirmed, trying to steal each other’s leaves.

It was fun to watch, and Kakashi wondered if Kushina would have enjoyed playing with Naruto… But it didn’t matter anymore.

Imagine Kakashi’s surprise when, during the children's training—while Ryuna was working on some project inside the house—a handful of sand suddenly came to life, protecting Garu’s leaf when Karin almost grabbed it.

Kakashi held his breath, eyes locked onto the sand.

"Hey, that’s cheating!" Karin accused, completely unaware of the turmoil in the jounin's mind.

Garu looked at the sand, a bit confused, but quickly accepted the help. He shrugged and gave his sister a small, smug smile.

"I didn’t do anything," he said innocently.

Kakashi ignored the ensuing childish argument, because this…

This was a problem.

Kinoe:

The new orders were unexpectedly complicated. Kinoe, personally, had a certain ease with them, but that was because his main jutsu was related to his new... hobby. He spent his "leisure activity" time carving random things out of wood. It would have been easier to do it with a simple jutsu, but the instructors insisted that the method mattered and that the intention was for him to "enjoy the experience"—whatever that was supposed to mean.

Even so, Kinoe had an easier time with it than his fellow Root agents. At the very least, he knew how wood should be cut, how to follow the grain, and how to choose the softest logs.

He still remembers when everything changed. So many agents had gathered at the base under the command of Danzo-sama, the order transmitted through the seal on their tongues. No one questioned the orders because they all knew better, so there were many Root members present when they felt the seals on the walls—seals no one had known were there—activate and trap them inside the tunnels. They believed this was Danzo-sama's will, so no one panicked... at least not openly. It took two days for Konoha’s Anbu and jonin to break in and begin subduing the resisting agents, but they didn’t touch those who lay on the ground with their hands and feet spread out—only those who tried to fight back.

Many things have changed since then.

The new dormitory is unexpectedly comfortable. Those Yamanakas spent months talking to the Root agents about their past missions, their "living conditions," and training methods. Apparently, the Sandaime had not known about Root, and once he found out, he was not pleased with Danzo-sama, dissolving the organization.

It seems that Danzo betrayed Konoha and used them to do it.

Kinoe has no trouble believing that, though he wouldn't dare say it out loud. The feeling of the seal on his tongue, even though it was no longer active, still made him tense. The older, more experienced agents go completely silent whenever someone speaks ill of Danzo-sama, and Kinoe keeps a close eye on them because he knows an attack is not out of the question. He also notices that these veterans have the most meetings with the Yamanakas, so it is likely that the Hokage is aware of the threat and is keeping a close watch on the situation.

Nothing has happened yet.

All the former Root agents are housed in the same building. Well, all except for the younger children. But they all know there are various seals on the walls of the building, which they discovered had been constructed during the months they spent under the care of the hospital and the Yamanakas. None of them understood Fuinjutsu well enough to identify what kind of seals they were. Even the specialists among them claimed that the language of those seals was completely different from what they were used to. This made the Root members who were unhappy with their new accommodations a bit wary of rebelling.

Kinoe can always see jonin around the workshops of the large complex that houses orphans and villagers who lost their homes during the Fox’s attack. He wonders if they are there to keep an eye on them. It would be a reasonable decision if that were the case, and he is almost certain that there are Anbu hidden somewhere. But he also thinks the Root agents would have been able to sense their presence...

None of that matters, though. This is the Hokage’s will.

Their new lodging is a large complex with multiple buildings arranged in a “U” shape, forming a communal recreation area—a garden where children from different buildings can play together under the watchful eyes of all the adults. The Root building itself is the smallest of them all, probably an attempt to keep them away from the “ordinary people” of the village. It doesn’t make much sense, though. If the goal was to keep them separate, then why allow them to walk around freely?

Every day, he tries different foods in the communal cafeteria. The head cook even said that it was an order from the Hokage so the former Root agents could discover what they liked. The first time he saw one of the younger agents separating food on their plate to eat only part of it, Kinoe couldn’t look away, a strange feeling overtaking him. For some reason, the cook seemed very happy.

Another thing that changed is that they are all now officially registered as citizens of Konoha. Kinoe never thought he would one day walk the village streets without an infiltration disguise or a codename. He never thought people would know he was Root and that he wouldn’t be punished for being discovered.

Kinoe is carving a wooden sword. He hopes to use it for kenjutsu training and is embedding a lead core in the middle of the wood to make the weight as close as possible to that of a real sword. He carefully carves out precise slots so that everything fits together seamlessly, making the hollow space for the metal imperceptible. Once everything is properly assembled, he will use a bit of Mokuton to fuse the wood together, making it a single solid piece rather than separate parts fitted together.

"Um, excuse me?" a hesitant voice asks while Kinoe is marking with charcoal where he will need to make a new cut in the wood. He looks up to see a boy around his age—maybe a little younger. "Am I interrupting?"

"Yes." Kinoe was working on his project, but the boy should be able to see that, shouldn’t he? Were people’s observation skills really that bad? But this boy had a hitae-ate… "Do you need something?"

"Ah, well, sorry for interrupting your work..." The boy scratched the back of his neck with a lopsided smile, and Kinoe wondered why he was laughing. Was it funny to interrupt people’s work? Hmm, maybe he should try that later. "My name is Iruka. What’s yours?"

Right, social interactions... His new directives said he should try to interact with people, make friends, and go out to do things without a clear goal.

Alright. Kinoe can do that.

"Kinoe."

"Nice to meet you, Kinoe-san!" Iruka was still smiling, but he had stopped scratching his neck, and his posture was straighter. "You seem really good at carving things. Much better than I am."

Was that a compliment? If he were on an infiltration mission, he would think he had made a mistake by drawing undue attention. Should he be worse at this? He could make deliberate mistakes if necessary.

"Sorry?" he tries. The Yamanaka he has to talk to every week tells him to apologize if he believes he made a mistake.

"Oh? Oh no, that’s a good thing. Sorry, I think I’m not expressing myself well." Now Iruka was scratching his neck again, and his face turned red. What did that mean? "See, my sensei is a Master of Fuinjutsu and wants to teach me how to carve seals. She told me to start with wood before moving on to metal, but first, I have to learn how to work with wood. You know, I can’t carve a seal if I don’t even know how to carve. So I was wondering... could you give me some tips?"

Kinoe tilted his head like an owl. Iruka was asking him to teach him? To carve wood? Well, it was for Fuinjutsu, so he supposed it was a useful and valid skill.

"Sure," he said and saw how Iruka let out a relieved sigh.

"Great! When we’re done here, I’ll treat you to dinner. What do you say?" Iruka asked with a grin. Why did he smile so much?

"They serve free food in the cafeteria..." Kinoe hesitated, pointing toward the cafeteria building. But then he also remembered that he was supposed to try different things according to his Yamanaka doctor.

"Yeah, but we can get something different in town. How about ramen? Have you ever had it?"

"No, I can’t say I have."

"Then let’s go to Ichiraku, my treat!" Iruka decided before pulling up a chair beside Kinoe and bringing out his own materials and block of wood. "Now, how do I start?"

As Kinoe explained the technique, he wondered if he had just made a friend.

Ryuna:

It took a few days before the meeting with the Uchiha clan could be arranged. The issue wasn’t really scheduling but rather people’s distrust, especially the elders. Knowing that Fugaku was committed to finding a peaceful solution was promising, and Ryuna knew she just needed to find a way to make that solution something the rest of the clan—even the proudest members—could accept.

And that was the problem: the Uchiha clan was very proud in many ways. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it made the situation more delicate. It wasn’t just about finding a way to fix things but doing so in a way that wouldn’t offend their egos, already weakened by gossip and resentment.

It wasn’t too difficult to shake off her guards once she reminded them that the body they were protecting was nothing more than a clone. It wasn’t, but they didn’t know that. She had a clone at the orphanage and another at home with the children because she knew those were low-risk situations. She preferred to avoid sending a clone into combat if possible—Shinigami was an exception—because her body suffered more from indirect damage than if she simply faced the threat head-on. So, while her presence at a meeting with potential rebels could be seen as a sign of trust, it was actually Ryuna taking precautions in case things went wrong.

Not that she had any intention of letting anyone know whether she was a clone or not. Even her clones had ways of "bleeding" if they ever needed to prove they were real. Considering they were Blood Clones, that shouldn’t be a surprise. In any case, she preferred to keep that information as a last resort.

The Uchiha clan complex was one of the largest in Konoha, with traditional-style houses and small gardens scattered here and there among the residences. The gardens were mostly filled with children under the supervision of slightly older kids and a few adults, mainly civilian women. These were people who were either too young to participate in a meeting or, for some reason, not involved in the discussion. Perhaps these women had simply been unlucky enough to be chosen as babysitters because someone had to watch the brats.

Ryuna’s Uchiha escort consisted of two chunin—Izamu and Akimitsu. She remembered reading their names during her attempt to at least learn the names of all the ninjas on her payroll. Their presence was mostly symbolic. Ryuna didn’t think anyone there had any illusions that these boys could stop her if she truly wanted to cause harm. Well, trust was a two-way street.

It was late afternoon when Ryuna was led to a large public square in the center of the complex. She was certain this wasn’t where they discussed their potential revolution, but she also doubted their meetings usually required so much space. Either way, it wouldn’t be appropriate to demand to see their usual meeting place, even though she was curious to know if the complex had secret areas built during the village’s founding.

Most of those gathered were ninjas, with a few civilians scattered among them. There were both men and women, though most of the women were also shinobi. They all formed an almost complete circle, leaving only a pathway for Ryuna to walk through to the empty center. The elders were positioned at the inner part of the wide circle formed by their relatives, and Fugaku stood at the center.

Both the elders and Fugaku had cushions, where Ryuna assumed they would sit, while the other clan members would have to sit on the ground or stand. They would likely sit on the ground or move to the rooftops, as it would be rude to remain standing in the circle. A particularly elegant cushion was placed in front of Fugaku, and Ryuna considered that it had been chosen for her as a sign of respect.

"I appreciate you organizing this meeting, Uchiha-sama," Ryuna said, inclining her head slightly in respect to the clan head.

"I’m sure all the members of my clan are interested in hearing what you have to say, Hokage-sama," he responded, bowing respectfully, as was proper given her position. One could always count on the Uchiha and Hyuga to follow etiquette to the letter.

Fugaku introduced each of the clan elders as well as his wife and children, both of whom were present for the meeting, even though Sasuke was still young. It was a sign of trust, and Ryuna suspected that ever since she and Fugaku had that discussion about Itachi, the man had been training his younger son to possibly take over the clan when he grew older. She didn’t think it was a definitive decision, but the idea of placing someone as easily manipulated as Itachi in charge must have worried him enough to focus on ensuring that the younger son was capable of taking over if necessary.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said with a gentle smile, even though she had known Fugaku’s immediate family long before becoming Hokage. Mikoto had been the children’s favorite babysitter whenever Ryuna wanted to let them play with other kids outside their home. She would have liked to leave them to play with the orphanage children, but since all of her kids were, in some way, of great interest to others, it seemed more prudent to let them play where they had better security.

"Hokage-sama," they responded with a respectful bow.

Everyone sat in seiza on the arranged cushions, and as Ryuna had predicted, the rest of the clan sat on the ground more casually, maintaining a disciplined silence. She couldn’t help but notice that some of the ninjas were armed, reminding her once again of how precarious the situation was.

"Why did you request this meeting, Hokage-sama?" one of the elders asked. Though his tone was a bit brusque, Ryuna noticed he wasn’t actually hostile. No one there was.

"I do not ignore the situation between the Uchiha clan and the rest of the village, Elder," she said slowly, making it clear she was aware of the tension between both sides. "I have been working slowly to change this, though perhaps too slowly. I apologize for that. I came here hoping to hear your grievances and present both short- and long-term plans to address them. I only hope you remember that no change will bring immediate results, and I ask that you grant me the necessary time."

"You’re the Hokage! Tell people we weren’t the ones who attacked the village with the Fox five years ago!" another elder demanded. "There are still too many rumors blaming us, even though we were officially cleared after the investigations!"

"I can declare your innocence as many times as you’d like, Elder, but actions always speak louder," Ryuna reminded him, keeping her voice calm because she understood. She understood all too well. "Look at the situation with the Jinchuuriki as an example."

"What does that have to do with anything?" the elder frowned, his confusion mirrored on the faces of many of his relatives.

"The Jinchuuriki is the one who prevents the bijuu from attacking Konoha and serves as a deterrent against war with other nations. Yet Jinchuuriki—not just in Konoha, but in all hidden villages—are treated as monsters and hated," she explained. "Life isn’t always fair, Uchiha-san, and people don’t always see the good we do for them because they are blinded by their fears and the rumors they hear. That’s why I can understand why you feel wronged when all you have done is protect this village."

Being known as Konoha’s Jinchuuriki, her words carried weight. Even though Ryuna was no longer publicly hated, there would always be a certain wariness toward her because of what people believed was contained within her body. She noticed how some members of the clan seemed less tense—perhaps relieved that their situation hadn’t been dismissed as trivial.

"That said, changing people’s hearts isn’t easy, and it’s not something I can simply order them to do. That’s why I need your cooperation," she explained, looking into the eyes of the clan members as a sign of trust, even though they didn’t have their Sharingan activated. "Changes will happen, and I hope they will be for the better. To ensure that none of these changes are disrespectful, I would like to hear what you have to say and discuss what we can do about it. If that is acceptable, of course, Fugaku-sama?"

"Of course, Hokage-sama, your care honors us," he bowed in respect, and this time, Ryuna knew it was real and not just etiquette. He straightened up again and signaled to the crowd around them, giving them permission to speak.

"The people don’t respect us," someone said, their voice surprisingly calm. A ninja, a man, an adult. Ryuna recognized him as a tokubetsu, Taichi. "Some even fear us. This is our home, yet we are treated with even more caution than some of the foreigners who come to visit!"

"People act as if I'm going to go insane and kill my genin team," a boy, Ryota, said, his lips forming a sulky pout that Ryuna actually found cute. "They even treat me like I’m going to betray them like Madara."

"I always get the worst missions." Alright, that sounded more like the usual complaints kids had about D-rank assignments, but Ryuna chose not to comment on it.

The complaints continued for a few more minutes, and Ryuna realized that, overall, it was more of the same: a lack of trust. This was something that would need to be addressed, it would take time, but it was something she had already thought about. The rest of the complaints were more mundane in the sense that they weren’t exclusive to the Uchiha, and some were simply minor inconveniences that made her want to roll her eyes, but she kept her expression calm and inviting.

After a few minutes, with people talking more and more hastily, now speaking over each other, Fugaku raised his hand, and there was silence. Well, it took a few minutes for there to be actual silence, but Ryuna figured these people hadn’t really had the chance to voice their complaints and be heard by someone who could actually do something about them.

"I apologize for the confusion, Hokage-sama." Fugaku seemed a little embarrassed. Was that a flush on his cheek? Ryuna smiled.

"It’s fine, actually, I prefer it this way." At the clan leader’s doubtful look, she gave him an ironic smile. "I’m not a god, you know, I’m not omniscient or anything like that. If no one tells me the truth about what’s going wrong, then I won’t know and will keep making mistakes. I’d rather people give me hard truths than pretty lies, Fugaku-sama, so I can do my job properly. It’s good to know I can trust your clan to keep my eyes open and that you’re willing to set boundaries on what is acceptable and hold to them even when it's difficult. I can work with that."

Some members of the clan tensed at that. The elders gave her a cautious look, and Fugaku merely inclined his head. It wasn’t a reprimand regarding the near Uchiha rebellion, but an acknowledgment that they were doing what they thought was best for the clan. They had drawn a line, and Konoha was dangerously close to crossing it.

"Moving on. As I said when I arrived, I was already aware of the situation and have been taking steps to fix things. I would like to present my plans to you and hear what you think," Ryuna proposed, looking at Fugaku and then at the elders. "Nothing is set in stone, so if there’s an issue, don’t hesitate to point it out so I can correct it, alright?"

"Absolutely, Hokage-sama," one of the elders bowed—for the first time. Ryuna held back a satisfied smile because, apparently, she had done a good job of not offending their egos.

"Very well. To begin with, I would like to open the Police Force to non-Uchiha members..."

"That’s absurd!"

"People will see it as a lack of trust in us!"

"Aren’t we doing our job right?"

"I’ve worked my whole life and—"

"I knew there was a catch to this..."

"SILENCE!" Ryuna demanded, her expression no longer as gentle as before, and suddenly everyone tensed again. She took a deep breath before continuing, surrounded by the tense silence of the people. "When Konoha was founded, it was an alliance between the Senju and the Uchiha, but it didn’t take long for other clans to join. Some of them had long-standing feuds, just like the founders, but they chose to set those aside in the name of the promise this village represented. But I ask you: when you put several people who were enemies just yesterday in the same space, what happens? Chaos. There needed to be laws to prevent us from collapsing into internal wars, and to uphold those laws, the police force was created. The Uchiha were chosen for their strict discipline and the belief that you would apply the laws to everyone equally, because even the Senju recognized that they might favor their long-time allies, which could cause future problems."

"They say Tobirama gave us this role to isolate us," a voice shouted from the crowd, and Ryuna nodded.

"Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. The intentions of a dead man don’t concern me," Ryuna didn’t bother holding back an eye roll this time, though she kept her voice calm. "What concerns me are the effects. The Uchiha clan ensured Konoha’s survival when the greatest threat to its existence came from within, not from outside—something often forgotten due to the actions of a man consumed by pain."

"You think Madara was just a man consumed by pain?" someone asked sarcastically.

"Yes. How many of you have lost family? How many of you could live as neighbors to the murderer of your relatives? How many of you could work alongside them while hearing that same person belittle your clan and customs and treat you with suspicion when you had already conceded to accepting a Senju—an enemy until then—as the new leader?" she answered with a series of questions, serious. "I’m not saying Madara’s actions were right, but I can’t honestly say I don’t understand his pain. The only difference between him and any other person is the scale of his power—while most people would throw plates against the wall in their rage, he threw a bijuu at us," she finished in her usual ironic tone.

Silence followed, and Ryuna waited to see if anyone had anything else to add. Apparently, even the Uchiha commonly despised the village’s founder. She understood, though—they had suffered the consequences of their ancestor’s actions.

"In the beginning, the Uchiha’s monopoly on the Police Force was justifiable and even beneficial, but today, it only harms your clan, and you know it," she pointed out. "The population fears the Uchiha in the same way civilians fear shinobi because you have institutional power over them, and over time, people began associating the police force exclusively with your clan. They’re almost synonymous."

"And you think letting outsiders in would change that?" one of the elders asked slowly.

"I don’t intend for the change to be abrupt. I’m well aware that police officers require special training very different from what field ninjas receive," she said. "You don’t have the privilege of anonymity; you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Collateral damage isn’t accepted—not of lives nor material goods. You are not judges, and you are not executioners; your role is to maintain order and ensure that everyone involved is heard in a trial. Meanwhile, shinobi who work outside often act based on their own moral code. Being a police officer is much harder, Elder. That’s why, even if I open the force to outsiders, it would still take time before new candidates are ready to operate in the field on their own."

"That doesn't change the fact that the village's population might see this as a sign that the Uchiha have lost Hokage-sama's trust," another elder pointed out.

"A balance must be established," Ryuna agreed.

"What kind of balance?" someone asked from behind Ryuna, but she didn't turn to see who it was.

"I have yet to choose a successor. With the Police Force being a Uchiha monopoly, I couldn't give the position to an Uchiha. A concentration of power in the hands of a single clan would not only make you an even bigger target than you already are but would also make Konoha vulnerable to external attacks," she explained calmly. "With the opening of the Police Force, the Uchiha will become eligible for the position of Hokage."

This time, she saw greed and hope mixed in different degrees on the faces of the clan members. Each had their own thoughts on the matter, but all, in some way, agreed that it was a good bargain.

"But you just became Hokage," one of the elders pointed out, narrowing his eyes as if suspecting a trick.

"Considering the situation that arose from the Yondaime’s death, where the Sandaime was forced back into the position, I find it prudent to choose a successor as soon as possible and train them to replace me should I die or retire," she explained. "The job of a Hokage, just like that of the Police Force, isn’t something you can simply improvise. It requires preparation, study, and experience. My successor will be properly trained to take my place, a privilege that no previous Hokage has ever had."

"But would the successor be recognized?"

"As I said before, Elder, I am not a god. Like all humans, I need to sleep, I get sick. I can't work all the time," she said. "In such cases, my successor would act as Hokage once I deem them ready. When we reach that point—when their training has surpassed what I consider the bare minimum—that is when they will be publicly acknowledged as my successor, even if I don't retire immediately. From that moment on, should I die or become unreachable for any reason, my student will take over instantly and without bureaucracy, as my absence could indicate a security emergency where swift action would be crucial."

Fugaku had a strange look as he stared at her, though it didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was as if she had started glowing or something—a pleasant surprise.

"I hope you begin training new recruits from outside the clan as soon as possible, just as I will start training my apprentice," she continued. "That way, I will make a public announcement about the opening of the Police Force on the same day I declare my successor, thus maintaining the Uchiha's status as a trusted clan. This way you retain your right as founders to have a member as Hokage, reintegrate your members into the regular shinobi forces, which, hopefully, should help reduce segregation."

Everyone seemed somewhat stunned by the end of her summary, blinking at her like owls with those large black eyes. Ryuna was starting to feel a little embarrassed by the prolonged silence.

"And who would be your student?" one of the elders finally broke the silence.

"I already have someone in mind," Ryuna revealed, relieved. "Someone who passed my test."

Fugaku frowned. He knew very well that Itachi would not be that person.

"Uchiha Shisui, I believe, possesses all the qualities of a Hokage," she decided to end the suspense, amused by the surprised and indignant gasps. "He just needs a bit of refinement."

She didn't miss the startled choke from someone, and this time she turned to the side to see Shisui himself, eyes wide. Ryuna raised an eyebrow and gave an ironic smile, remembering that the boy owed her a favor, even if it was a misguided one. He would be a great Hokage—not yet, but someday.

"And what exactly are these qualities, Hokage-sama?" one of the elders asked, his voice barely concealing his disdain.

"Shisui-san is intelligent and adept at theory, judging by his test scores. He has a highly resilient mind, difficult to manipulate, which is always a good trait for a Hokage, constantly surrounded by people trying to sway them for personal gain. He can detect inconsistencies between a person's actions and words, another useful skill for avoiding manipulation. He is a good judge of character. He is well-regarded among ninjas for his battle proficiency, even becoming one of the youngest ever listed in the Bingo Book. Lastly, he is charismatic," she concluded, entertained by listing the qualities of her future student. Of course, she had researched him after that test, but most of these things she had discovered while speaking with him personally.

"Charisma?" one of the elders scoffed, unimpressed.

"Yes, Elder, charisma," Ryuna replied, amused, knowing that this wasn’t what most people would expect. "There is a reason why all previous Hokages have been charismatic... Well, except for the Nidaime, but he took the position mainly because he was the Shodaime’s brother."

"I don’t understand."

"A Hokage cannot personally know every citizen, nor can they have a motivational conversation with each ninja whenever something happens. In the middle of a war, there certainly wouldn’t be time for that," she explained. "A Hokage must be charismatic because they have little time and interaction with their people, and that must be enough to present an image people are willing to follow. Charismatic enough to be loved by their people, powerful enough to be trusted, and dangerous enough to be feared by their enemies. Shisui has the potential to be all of that."

The clan members turned their attention to the boy who had made the Shunshin his specialty—a jutsu often underestimated—just as Ryuna had chosen storage seals and turned them into something to be feared. Now, under the scrutiny of his relatives, Shisui blushed as red as a ripe tomato.

Ryuna cleared her throat to spare the boy from further embarrassment. She was satisfied to see that there were no real objections.

"Well, this may not solve all the problems you have presented to me, but I hope it is a good start," Ryuna said, opening and closing her fists in front of her body. Her legs were still in a perfect seiza position, though they were beginning to tingle slightly. The next part would be tricky. "I have brought a… gift. No… it’s not exactly a gift because I believe you have a right to it, but if I followed protocol, you would never receive it. I hope this will be seen as an act of good faith and that you will trust me enough to give me the time I need for my plans to take effect."

With an easy movement, she pulled a sealing paper from her sleeve and extended it toward Fugaku. He took it hesitantly—not out of fear or caution, but out of sheer surprise.

"What is this, Hokage-sama?" one of the elders asked, curiosity lacing his voice. Ryuna smiled at the respect in his tone. Things were going very well. She just hoped she wouldn’t ruin it now.

"Open it and see," she replied, her smile fading into a more solemn expression, which was more appropriate for this particular offering.

Ryuna was pleased to see how Fugaku didn’t hesitate to apply his chakra to the seal, trusting that she wouldn’t do anything harmful to his clan. It was good to know she had earned that trust.

A small burst of smoke later, as it dissipated, the Uchiha clan found themselves face to face with Shimura Danzo—bound with chakra-suppressing restraints, each of the eyes on his arm individually sealed for precaution. He was pale and nearly naked. Ryuna had made sure to heal all the wounds she had inflicted on him over the past few months while interrogating him about his schemes with Root and in other countries.

She had nothing more to gain from him, so it was time to get rid of the old man. Ever efficient, Ryuna wouldn't miss the chance to use him to gain the Uchiha clan’s favor.

She watched as many clan members suddenly activated their Sharingan.

"He is yours to do with as you wish, along with the eyes he stole," she declared into the heavy silence that followed. The air was thick with murderous intent directed at the former elder. "I will leave him to you."

With that, Ryuna stood and walked away. No one bothered to watch her as she strolled through the compound alone. She had to suppress the inappropriate smile threatening to form on her lips.

She was halfway down the path when she heard Danzo's first scream—before a genjutsu made everything fall silent again.

One less problem for her to deal with.

As people gathered around the Hokage Tower to watch the inauguration ceremony of the Godaime Hokage, part of Hayate wanted to scoff at the ridiculousness of the situation. Ryuna had been Hokage for almost a year, and only now was the inauguration taking place? Absolutely ridiculous.

At least, that’s what he let on.

You see, he and Yugao had been in the same class as Ryuna back at the Academy, unlike Iruka, who had been in a different class during the early years. Hayate remembered how the Takeshi twins stood out in class. Kaito was, indisputably, the best fighter, but Ryuna… she never lost twice to the same opponent, and her fights were far more interesting. Even if she lost the first match, the next time, she would win easily.

Hayate had watched her fights with great interest back then. He was always observing Takeshi Ryuna, so he had seen how she watched the others’ sparring matches with such focus that she barely blinked. He had seen how she fought by exploiting her opponents' weaknesses rather than relying on brute strength. She would be like a Nara, if the Nara weren’t so lazy.

Hayate had copied her fighting style. He had learned to exploit his opponent’s weaknesses, to read their movements, and to fight smart. Given his health condition, with his chronic cough, fighting intelligently was a matter of survival.

Everything was fine until the Fox attacked.

His little brother had been buried under the rubble. His parents had survived, only to be consumed by resentment. His mother had taken her own life months later. His father had sunk into depression, and Hayate had hated it. Ryuna carried that monster inside her—the monster that had destroyed his family—and suddenly, she was his teacher? Was he supposed to bow his head and obey? Respect her, the killer of his brother? Hayate couldn’t do it. He had even changed his fighting style because he refused to continue using the one he had inspired from the girl he had admired at the Academy.

Iruka had always been a suck-up to Ryuna, but he had thought Yugao understood how he felt—until she caved and started doing whatever Ryuna said. No one else understood the pain of standing before the person who had caused their family’s death and not being allowed to do anything about it. Not being allowed to hate.

His brother had been so small...

His mother...

His father, surprisingly, did not hate Ryuna, though he did not love her as others did. The only time Hayate had asked him, he had said:

"I’m grateful to her for saving you, even though she failed to save your brother," he had said, looking so sad and tired. "If the attack had continued… you might have died too, and I would have had no one."

Hayate had never spoken to his father about it again, but those words had stayed with him. Deep down, his mind knew that his resentment was misplaced, that Ryuna was not the Nine-Tails, but in his anger, she was the easiest target. Every time he looked at her, Hayate was reminded of his shattered family.

As the villagers gathered around the Tower, he couldn’t help but notice how most of the civilians were celebrating. The shinobi were more stoic, but no less satisfied and hopeful. The older ones did not seem happy, but there were so few of them in the crowd. The atmosphere in the village was like that of a festival.

Did no one care that she was the Jinchuuriki? How had all these people managed to move past it? He looked around, his brow furrowed, resentment in his eyes toward all the people who had dared to move on.

"Son."

Hayate turned to look at his father, who had called him. His father gazed at him sadly, ignoring the noise around them. "Son, you need to let go of all this hatred."

They were not in the middle of the crowd. Instead, they stood on the outskirts, in the shadow of a building. They had a clear view of everything, but they were too far to see the details of what was happening on the Tower’s rooftop.

"I know that... I just can’t understand how all these people can," Hayate said, not meeting his father’s eyes, feeling weak for being unable to forgive when his father could. "How can they look at her without remembering…"

"In the beginning, no one could," his father said. "But Ryuna is a girl of action. Just watch what she does."

Hayate remembered all those training plans their sensei had made for him and his team. Plans he hadn’t even looked at before throwing them away. Yet, every month, there was a new one waiting for him.

"At first, people hated her, but then Ryuna used her own money to build housing for those who had lost their homes. She helped people get back on their feet," his father explained. "Even then, some saw it as her duty, since it was the Fox that had destroyed everything in the first place. But then people saw her walking through the streets with the Yondaime’s baby, taking care of the child as if he were her own. And then more children came—descendants of the Uzumakis—and people started seeing a devoted mother more than a monster. It wasn’t a sudden change, Hayate; it happened little by little, day by day."

"It’s hard to hate someone who’s always helping you," his father continued, looking at the distant Tower as if seeing something from the past. "Especially when most people, even their own leaders, don’t try as hard to help. Now, everyone pretends they never hated her and love her because they know she will bring prosperity."

"So they forgive because they have something to gain," Hayate scoffed bitterly.

"The Uchihas and Senjus abandoned centuries of resentment because they wanted to save future generations. They became neighbors with the murderers of their kin and changed the world because they were the first to forgive," his father reminded him. "Maybe they did it with an end goal in mind, but I don’t think that lessens the value of the act. Forgiveness is, perhaps, one of the hardest things to do."

"You think I should do it. Forgive," Hayate said, also looking at the Tower now, his arms crossed over his chest.

He really didn’t want to, but part of him remembered the Ryuna from the Academy, remembered how she gave her opponents tips after defeating them so they could fix the weaknesses she had exploited. A part of him wanted to forgive.

"Holding onto resentment isn’t good for the heart, Hayate," his father shrugged. "What would hatred bring? You can’t take revenge on her without causing suffering to the rest of the village, and she isn’t even truly responsible for what happened—just a scapegoat. What’s the point of hating?"

Hayate sighed and watched as Ryuna stepped onto the top of the Tower and stood before the people. The Sandaime was there too, performing the redundant ceremony of passing the hat to her as if she hadn’t already been the Hokage all this time.

He remembered what he had been like at the Academy before he started hating her. Hayate had been dedicated to his studies, a smart and cunning fighter, according to his teachers. He remembered the feeling of facing a stronger opponent in training and having a plan ready. He remembered the satisfaction when the plan worked. And he missed it.

If his father, who had lost as much as he had, could forgive, then why couldn’t Hayate?

Could he try to be like he was before all this hatred? He hoped so—he truly did.

"I’ll try, tou-san."

"That’s good," his father said, and Hayate saw the deep sigh of relief he hadn’t even realized his father had been holding. He had probably been worried for a long time. "That’s very good."

Hayate looked at the Hokage and wished he could move on.

Ryuna:

"Good morning to everyone who left their homes to be here on this beautiful day," the Sandaime spoke from the top of the Tower to the crowd gathered below. Chakra in his throat resonated his voice, allowing him to be heard even from a distance. "I have led this village for a long time and with great pride. We have been through many things together until the day I passed this hat to my successor, Namikaze Minato, and then reclaimed it after his death. Today, I pass this honor on to Takeshi Ryuna, who is, from this moment forward, officially the Godaime Hokage."

With that, Ryuna stepped forward, and Hiruzen placed the hat with the kanji for "fire" on her head. He stepped back to let the new Hokage stand alone under the spotlight. It was all just symbolic, after all.

Normally, Ryuna wouldn't care about this—it would just mean more work on her desk to organize such an event—but she needed to do this. The former Root agents still believed that Hiruzen was the acting Hokage, and if she didn't make the transition in front of their eyes, they might resist her orders.

Looking at the crowd, she recognized the small group of Root members who had separated themselves, uncomfortable in such a noisy gathering. But they had come, and that was the only thing that mattered. It would have all been in vain if they weren’t there.

Shisui, standing behind her, observed everything, looking somewhat overwhelmed. At least he wouldn't have to be declared her successor today. He wasn’t ready for such responsibility yet.

She took a deep breath, Anko's words about her apparent popularity giving her confidence.

"The circumstances in which I assume this position may not be the happiest, but I will do my best to ensure that the rest of my term is remembered as a time of joy and prosperity for our people," she said. She wouldn’t promise peace—that would be too naïve. "We will not forget the past. Instead, we will learn from it and grow stronger and wiser. The dream that is Konoha still lives in each and every person who defends others simply because it is the right thing to do. Our unity is our greatest strength, and it has allowed us—and will continue to allow us—to overcome any difficulties that arise. We will walk this path together. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!"

She ended her inauguration speech with a bow. It was the deepest bow she had ever made in her life, and a part of her couldn't help but find the position strange, but she held it as she heard the crowd below cheer her words. Who would have thought she would be so well accepted? Anko, apparently.

She straightened up and looked at her people, who were still celebrating, and waited patiently for the noise to die down.

Now came the interesting part.

"I have one more announcement before you disperse," she called out, watching as the people quieted down to listen. "The Uchiha Clan has successfully eliminated the traitor Shimura Danzō, former elder of Konoha, who was convicted of the crimes of kidnapping and torturing village citizens without plausible justification, tax evasion, embezzlement, corruption, extortion, inciting war with foreign nations, and bloodline theft. He was also responsible for the deaths on the day of the Fox Attack, including the loss of our esteemed Yondaime Hokage, my predecessor."

She watched as the people below started whispering to each other, the frantic murmurs audible even from a distance. Behind her, the Sandaime looked quite uncomfortable but remained still. He knew very well that the only reason he himself would not be punished for his negligence was his mental illness. Forcing Ryuna’s compassion wasn’t the smartest decision.

After the Uchiha took Danzō's eyes and killed him—after some torture under genjutsu—Fugaku brought the body to the council along with the removed eyes. All of this served as proof that Danzō had not only kept Root active after the dissolution order but had also stolen from two prominent bloodlines: Senju and Uchiha.

The arm made from Hashirama’s cells was an abomination, the result of one of Orochimaru’s experiments, and many people were unhappy with the Sannin, but Ryuna reminded them that they had all done questionable things under orders. She found it quite hypocritical that these same people—who accepted assassination missions to eliminate entire families just because a noble wanted it and was willing to pay—were judging what someone else had done under orders from their superiors. Even Tsunade had to shut up when Ryuna dug up some of the Sannin’s old missions and how she herself had never questioned her orders.

Ryuna wouldn’t punish Orochimaru for the things he did back then, nor would she allow it to happen again. He knew that, too. Orochimaru had no illusions about his freedom.

"Evidence has been found that Danzō not only stole Hashirama’s cells but also implanted Uchiha eyes in himself," Ryuna stated firmly, her voice loud enough to be heard above the murmurs of the people below. "Danzō was the leading voice against the Uchiha Clan for the past few decades and, after the attack, he was the most insistent in blaming the founding clan. We have reason to believe that he used the chaos of the October 10th Attack to kidnap many children for his illegal personal army. Evidence suggests that he was the sole individual controlling the Fox that fateful night. Our esteemed Yondaime had to choose between winning the fight and saving our people from further casualties, so he sacrificed himself for us and left me to uncover who had attacked us. I am pleased to say that I have finally fulfilled my predecessor’s will."

She gave one last bow before leaving, leaving behind whispers, speculation, and furious shouts. The people finally had a name to direct their anger at—someone tangible to truly blame.

Not that the evidence of Danzō’s guilt was that conclusive, but one thing so many people seemed to forget was that evidence could be destroyed and also created. Ryuna needed a scapegoat to take the pressure off the Uchiha, and Danzō fit the narrative perfectly. He had the opportunity, the means, the motivation. He had made it so easy.

Ryuna didn’t know for sure if it had been him, but she also didn’t know that it wasn’t. The Council had been convinced by her narrative with the creation of some evidence that would corroborate other circumstantial proofs, so she couldn’t continue the investigation publicly. Well, that sucked. She would sleep better at night if she knew that any threat to her family had been properly dealt with.

That was fine—she could pass this mission on to Obito. He was very good at being invisible. A very useful skill for a spy.

***

She arrived home and dissolved her clone, reabsorbing the blood from the technique into one of her seals. With luck, it could be reused. The memories of the day returned to her mind, and she saw how Kakashi had been acting strangely since mid-morning. She frowned. He had refused to talk to a clone and insisted on waiting for her to arrive.

He hadn’t attended her inauguration.

Ryuna went to his room and knocked on the door. She could force her way in if she wanted to, but that would take time since her seals were exceptionally well-crafted and difficult to tamper with due to their placement. Ryuna had designed everything in such a way that even she wouldn’t be able to break in easily, adding another layer of protection for the people living in the house. Paranoid? Maybe, but considering how many jutsus existed that could control someone's mind, she thought it was simply prudent.

Kakashi opened the door, and his expression was anything but happy. Ryuna felt herself tense up—whatever had put the last Hatake in this state couldn’t be good.

"What happened? Are the kids okay?" Ryuna couldn’t recall anything about an injury from her clone’s memories. What does Kakashi know that made him like this? "What... Ah!"

Kakashi pulled her into the room before shutting the door behind him with a click. He quickly activated the silencing seals on the walls to isolate the sound. Alright, whatever this was, it was secret—or at the very least, not meant for young ears.

"What were you thinking?" Kakashi seemed a little frantic as he spoke, his usual drawl nowhere to be found. He almost seemed like the Kakashi from the war.

"You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Kashi," she said, giving him a look that clearly said, Are you an idiot?, which he chose to ignore. "I’ve been doing a lot of things, in case you haven’t noticed."

"Garu... Gaara of Suna."

Ryuna immediately tensed as if she’d been shocked, shifting her stance slightly, feet apart, and eyeing Kakashi cautiously. He considered her reaction answer enough because he ran a hand through his hair, looking lost.

"Shit! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Ryuna, if anyone finds out, there will be war!"

"Then keep your mouth shut, and no one will find out," Ryuna shot back. She knew it was dangerous, but it hadn’t been in her plans to become Hokage when she took the risk of stealing Gaara from his crib and bringing Garu and Shukaku into her home as her new children. Back then, she had just been the head of a clan of only four people—one was an elderly man, another a baby, and the last, besides herself, was her twin.

"He has a kekkei genkai he doesn’t know how to control, Ryuna. The secret will get out sooner or later!" Kakashi growled, furious. So that’s how he found out... Ryuna would have to keep Garu and Shukaku away from the village playgrounds until they learned to control their powers. "If Suna finds out, the other villages will too. They’ll see this as a threat from Konoha against all of them and unite against us. There’s a reason no village steals another’s Jinchuuriki—they only kill them!"

"And what was I supposed to do? Leave him there to be tortured by his own father until he either died or went insane and became a psychotic monster? No way!" she fired back, equally furious.

Ryuna might not have loved her children unconditionally from the start, but she had taken responsibility for them. She had been raised with those values—not because the Takeshi were morally superior to other clans, but because, like the Uchiha with the Sharingan and the Hyuga with the Byakugan, they protected children for a reason. After all, what was a teacher without students? And who were the best students if not children? Their values were a reflection of their lifestyle, not of any high morality.

It had been a hassle at first. In fact, it had remained a hassle for years. But Ryuna had learned to care for those drooling brats. It was still exhausting, though—coming home after a difficult day only to be bombarded with memories of their complaints and fights. Memories of how they refused to eat what she had prepared, each wanting something different, or how they all wanted to play with the same toy, inevitably leading to fights and tears.

There were times she wanted to lock them in a room, place a silencing seal, and pretend they didn’t exist. So tempting.

But she didn’t do it. No, she suppressed those feelings, pretended everything was fine because she wasn’t allowed to scream, to be angry.

It had been hard. A part of her hated those kids, but another part had come to love them as her own. She couldn’t let go of any of them anymore.

The mere thought of hypothetically leaving Garu behind made her want to punch something.

"Ryuna, they’re going to call you a bloodline thief like Danzo. You’ll lose credibility for everything you’ve done," Kakashi said, his voice low. "Danzo’s downfall and all of his actions will be questioned. Do you have any idea what position this will put Konoha in?"

Yes, she knew very well. That was one of the many reasons she hadn’t wanted the position when the Daimyo nominated her. Since Minato’s death—even before that—Ryuna had been doing things under the assumption that if something went irreversibly wrong, she could always just leave the village and start over elsewhere. She had so many escape plans prepared for her family, including her children, that it was ridiculous.

All of that had crumbled so fast.

She doesn't know what to do now. She can't just run away because Konoha no longer has the option of simply declaring her a missing-nin and getting rid of the responsibility. Now her actions are Konoha's actions. She also doesn't have the confidence that she can repeat the feat she did last time with her clones. This wasn't an invincible technique despite what it seemed and she was more likely to die if she had to do it again than to succeed, even with Tsunade's help. Not that Kakashi knows the details, but he's smart enough to know that no technique is impervious, there's always a weakness.

If there's a war now against all the Elemental Nations, Ryuna doesn't know if Konoha will survive. And it will be her fault.

She could feel the tears rolling down her face because she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to respond. She had no solution.

"What was I supposed to do, Kashi?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion, his figure blurring through her tears. "They wouldn’t let him sleep. He was only a year old, and they wouldn’t let him sleep."

Sleep deprivation was cruel torture. Adults lost their minds from it, and the body started shutting down after a while. People needed sleep. Maybe Shukaku’s chakra had kept Gaara alive, but in what state? What would have happened to his mind? Ryuna couldn’t envision a scenario where things ended well for her boys.

"Does anyone else know?" Kakashi asked.

Ryuna shook her head.

Kaito, her grandfather, and Orochimaru lived nearby, but they were all busy with missions, lessons, or experiments. One of her clones was always around, so if any of them had found out anything, she was confident she would have noticed it in their behavior—just as she had with Kakashi.

"Alright..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted. "Alright, we’ll have to teach him to use his kekkei genkai so he doesn’t lose control of it. Their training will have to start."

That was... new. Having someone else solve a problem for her. Normally, people just told her what was wrong and expected her to miraculously find a solution on her own.

It reminded her of why she had chosen Kakashi, of all people, to be Hokage in her place if she died fighting against Kumo and Iwa. It had been a good choice.

She felt a weight lift from her chest, knowing that someone else knew. Someone else cared and would help. She wasn’t so alone anymore.

Relief made her tears flow harder, and her chest trembled with sobs. Yes, finally. She could cry now, couldn’t she? Kakashi was here. He wouldn’t let things fall apart. He didn’t need her to give him instructions or orders.

She curled up and kept crying because she thought she might collapse if she didn't.

When she felt a hand on the back of her neck, she tensed up before recognizing Kakashi’s scent and relaxing again. He wrapped his arms around her, then lifted her up and carried her through the door, down the hallways, and into her room. He was able to open the door because she was present.

Kakashi placed her on the bed.

"S-sorry," she managed to say before he could slip away as he always did. "Thank you..."

"Do you have any idea how much trouble we're in, kitten?" he asked in a gentle voice, his thumb brushing beneath her eyes to wipe away some of her tears. She couldn't help but feel relieved that he had said we were in trouble. "Maa. I'll think of something, so try to get some sleep, alright?"

He had gone back to his usual speech habits. Ryuna felt a small smile tug at her lips.

"Sorry for the trouble," she murmured, her eyes beginning to close on their own from exhaustion.

"Maa, maa. I have to earn my keep somehow, don't I? I suppose I should thank you for the opportunity," he teased.

Ryuna didn't hear anything else before she fell asleep.

Jiraiya:

Jiraiya panted, his chest rising and falling with effort. His body was injured, covered in cuts and bruises, but he couldn’t stop. His Sage Mode was at its peak, aided by Fukasaku and Shima. Even so, the six bodies of Pain stood before him, untouched, their Rinnegan eyes staring at him with the same unshakable coldness.

This was not what he had expected when he followed all the clues he could find about the Akatsuki after learning about Pain. He needed to find out what had happened to his students. Why did Yahiko's body have Nagato's eyes? Were his other students still alive?

He had chosen to search for them before returning to Konoha to report because he wanted something that could convince his sensei to allow Jiraiya to approach the Akatsuki for negotiations and, hopefully, uncover what was really going on. For now, he just wanted to know if the children were still alive.

It hadn’t been that hard to find them once he arrived in Amegakure and saw origami scattered everywhere. That meant Konan was probably alive. And Nagato? What had happened to gentle Yahiko? Had he stolen Nagato’s eyes? Jiraiya sincerely hoped not.

What he had not expected was to be ambushed and forced to fight for his life. His attempts at conversation had been promptly ignored.

Each of the Pains before him had a function, a unique ability that made direct combat nearly impossible. Alone, Jiraiya was one of the Legendary Sannin, a master of the Toads of Mount Myoboku, and an experienced ninja capable of facing any enemy. But against Pain… Against six bodies of a man he had once trained…

"Shima! Fukasaku!" he called to the elder toads on his shoulders. "We need to find an opening!"

"If there even is one, Jiraiya-boy!" Fukasaku retorted.

"We can't stay on the defensive forever!" Shima added.

The Six Paths of Pain moved in unison. The Asura Path, the one with a mechanical appearance, extended its arm, revealing a hidden compartment that launched a projectile straight at Jiraiya.

"Katon: Dai Endan!"

Jiraiya spat a dense, scorching torrent of fire, consuming the missile mid-air and triggering a premature explosion. Using the smoke screen, he rushed forward at high speed, targeting the Human Path with a Rasengan spinning in his palm.

But before he could strike, an invisible force crushed his body, wrenching the air from his lungs.

"Shinra Tensei!"

The Deva Path raised its hand, and Jiraiya was hurled like a cannonball into a stone wall. The impact cracked the structure, sending dust and debris flying everywhere.

"Tch..." He pulled himself up, gritting his teeth. Even with his resistance enhanced by Senjutsu, that hurt.

The Pains gave him no time to breathe. The Animal Path slammed its hands to the ground, summoning a giant centipede that charged at Jiraiya, its mandibles snapping.

"Senpō: Kebari Senbon!"

Jiraiya fired a barrage of hair needles like a machine gun, piercing the creature and making it disappear in a puff of smoke. But almost immediately, a multi-headed dog appeared in its place, splitting into more creatures each time it was struck.

"The damn thing multiplies!" Shima shouted.

"If we don't take down the summoner, it'll never stop," Fukasaku said.

Jiraiya agreed. With a quick hand seal, he spat a sphere of sticky oil directly onto the Animal Path.

"Senpō: Goemon!"

The combination of oil, fire, and wind ignited the battlefield, engulfing the enemy in a devastating explosion. But before victory could be confirmed, the Preta Path stepped forward and absorbed the flames effortlessly, nullifying the attack entirely.

"Damn it!"

The Human Path appeared behind Jiraiya, fingers extended to grab him. If it touched the Sannin, it could rip his soul out instantly. Jiraiya spun on his heels and delivered a side kick straight to the enemy’s face, sending him crashing into a pillar.

But then, a hand grabbed his wrist.

The Naraka Path.

Before he could react, a sudden pull unbalanced him, and the enormous mouth of the King of Hell emerged behind Pain’s body, ready to devour his essence.

"Senpō: Kawazu Naki!"

Fukasaku and Shima let out a supersonic scream in unison, the sound wave reverberating through the air and paralyzing the Pains for a brief moment. Jiraiya used the opportunity to break free, leaping away.

"Jiraiya-boy, we need a plan!"

He clenched his fists. He had to take down at least one of them.

He focused chakra into his palm and charged at the Preta Path, a violently spinning Rasengan in his hand. If he could land the hit, he could disrupt their formation.

But just as the attack was about to land, the Preta Path raised its hand and absorbed the chakra completely.

The opening Jiraiya had been waiting for… didn’t exist.

The Deva Path raised its hand again.

"Shinra Tensei."

This time, the overwhelming force struck Jiraiya full on, throwing him back like a ragdoll. He collapsed onto his knees, blood dripping from his mouth. The impact caused his Sage Mode to begin dissipating.

The Human Path approached.

"It’s over, Jiraiya-sensei."

He groaned and twisted, placing Fukasaku on the ground. He needed to…

"Get out of here and warn Konoha…" he managed to say.

"I’ll do it, Jiraiya-boy," Fukasaku said with a sorrowful look before turning and leaping away as fast as he could.

Jiraiya watched the elder toad leave when he felt a threatening presence behind him. His eyes widened as he tried to gather chakra, to break free…

"Shinra Tensei," Pain said, and then the weight of the world crashed down on Jiraiya, making it impossible for him to move.

Black rods of that suspicious material pierced his limbs, pinning him to the ground like a butterfly on display. No matter how much he struggled, no matter how hard he tried to use chakra to free himself, it felt as though the rods were absorbing everything.

The final blow was coming. He knew it.

"What a waste," a voice commented from a distance, its artificial tone echoing through the place.

"Shinigami," Pain addressed the stranger, and Jiraiya felt a chill of apprehension upon realizing that the infamous missing-nin known for torturing his victims was there. "What do you want?"

"I was just thinking how wasteful it is to kill the old man," the obviously modified voice spoke from behind the Shinigami mask. "You’ll want the Nine-Tails at some point, won’t you? Wouldn’t it be better to keep him alive for a trade?"

"The current Jinchuuriki of Konoha is also the Hokage," Pain pointed out. "I doubt they’d accept any trade."

Jiraiya tensed. What had happened to his sensei? How could Ryuna be the Hokage? He had spent so much time tracking Shinigami and then searching for his former students—Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan—that he hadn’t had time in the past year to hear news from Konoha. He hadn’t thought he needed to. The village had been at peace, and he had other things to worry about.

What had happened in his absence?

Still, it was strange that Pain knew who the Jinchuuriki was. That information wasn’t exactly a secret within Konoha’s walls, but Jiraiya was sure his sensei would have ensured it didn’t leave the village. It was a matter of security, after all. Did Pain have a spy in Konoha?

Jiraiya needed to find a way to survive and warn them!

"The old man has enough status to be used as a bargaining chip, and his knowledge of Fuinjutsu could be useful," Shinigami countered indifferently. Jiraiya managed to turn his head just enough to look at him and saw the missing-nin shrug. "Killing him without taking full advantage is foolish… Unless you’re too emotionally involved? In that case, killing him might be a better idea to keep you from getting distracted by sentimentality…"

"Watch your insinuations, Shinigami," Pain warned. But Jiraiya noticed that Shinigami didn’t seem fazed at all and just shrugged again, indifferent. After a pause, Pain added, "Take our prisoner to a cell."

"Hai, Pain-chan," Shinigami mocked with an amused wave toward what had once been Yahiko. Jiraiya had expected a reaction from Pain at the disrespectful treatment, but he didn’t falter and simply walked away.

Interesting. Was Shinigami Pain’s equal, or was the supposed leader of the Akatsuki simply tolerant of the missing-nin’s mannerisms?

He was still pondering this when Shinigami approached him and, with a well-placed strike, knocked him unconscious.

Ryuna:

She gathered the children after waking up. Kakashi was no longer in the room, but Ryuna hadn’t expected him to be. The problem he had raised was too real for her to simply pretend she wasn’t concerned.

At the very least, she wanted to take some security measures. There wasn’t much she could do, but it was better not to take any chances. The greatest vulnerability was the children themselves. And that was without anyone knowing that at least half of them were Tailed Beasts in human form. Ryuna could only imagine the kind of chaos such information would unleash.

So she gathered them all and led them to her laboratory, hidden by seals within the family estate. It was underground so that no one could simply stumble upon it by accident. The seals served as a precaution against trackers, primarily hiding chakra and dispersing scents.

Her children wore curious expressions as they followed her down the stairs through the hidden entrance, which could only be accessed by a Doton jutsu with her chakra signature. If anyone else attempted to force their way in, the entire place would self-destruct. They skipped, chatted, and bickered with one another. Karin, who had some experience with laboratories, clung to the hem of Ryuna’s blouse in fear.

Ryuna placed a comforting hand on the girl’s head in silent reassurance.

Inside, beyond the usual items expected in a laboratory, there were also two incubators where she had developed the bodies for the Tailed Beasts. Ryuna had already cut off her own arms—she regenerated them later—to serve as organic material for the new babies’ bodies. They were protected from decomposition by a few seals, but she needed a few more things before she could start working on them.

The Jinchuuriki from Kumo were tied to stretchers, kept unconscious by a series of seals, including chakra suppression seals. She had been working on separating the Bijuu from their human counterparts, but this was more complicated than the cases she had dealt with so far because most of them were children who had not yet actively used their Beasts’ chakra—or, in Rin’s case, had no access to it at all.

The Kumo Jinchuuriki were deeply integrated with their Bijuu, and Ryuna was struggling to separate the two without harming either. She had to damage the humans’ chakra networks slightly, but she could rebuild them. The biggest problem would be if their chakra cores were affected, because then they would be in the same position as Rin, and she still hadn’t found a way to heal the damage to her body permanently.

Three weeks had passed since she captured them, and Ryuna finally had an estimate of when she could allow them to regain consciousness. The Raikage was starting to grow restless over the delay in sending shinobi to check on the Jinchuuriki’s safety—especially his own brother’s.

She could hardly wait for them to discover that they no longer had a single Tailed Beast under their control. It was going to be a huge mess, but she would deal with it when the time came. Ryuna wasn’t allowing this nonsense to continue. Even though she didn’t know the Eight-Tails and the Two-Tails yet, they were siblings to her children, so her protection extended to them as well.

Of course, all of this had the additional benefit that no one else—not even Konoha—would have power over the Bijuu. No more “ultimate weapons” to maintain peace. Her pups were not weapons.

The children were no longer as noisy as they had been on the way to the laboratory, now looking at the two Jinchuuriki cautiously. They weren’t exactly afraid, but they did seem uncomfortable.

Karin and Kurama were the most uneasy, and Ryuna felt a pang in her chest. But she needed to talk to them and explain a few things, and this was the safest place. There were so many seals on the walls that it was simply ridiculous. This laboratory was more secure than the Hokage Tower’s secret archives.

The children stayed close together, all seeking some form of physical contact with one another as a source of support, and Ryuna felt somewhat relieved to see that the Bijuu were forming bonds with their human siblings. Perhaps they could see beyond their hatred and stop trying to indiscriminately kill people. One step at a time.

"Alright, kids, I brought you here for a very serious conversation." She picked up little Shukaku, who was three years old, and sat him on one of the empty stretchers before placing Naruto, Isobu, and Garu beside him. Karin and Kurama were too tense, so Ryuna crouched to their level, kissing each of their foreheads. "It’s okay, little ones. Okaa-san just wants to explain a few things. We’re here because this place is very safe, that’s all."

Karin relaxed and allowed Ryuna to seat her beside her brothers, but Kurama still looked somewhat wary. That was fine—she expected it. Still, he didn’t resist when she sat him on the stretcher as well.

"Alright, let’s begin. I’m going to tell you a story, like a bedtime story, and I want you to listen carefully, okay? You can ask questions when I’m done." She kissed each of them on the cheek with affection and inhaled their scent to commit it to memory. She didn’t know how they would react to some of her revelations.

"A long, long time ago, before the ninja villages existed, the shinobi clans were constantly at war, and the Tailed Beasts roamed freely across the world. There were nine of them—nine siblings, all very different from each other."

"Like us, kaa-san?" Naruto asked excitedly. He could never hold back his questions during bedtime stories, so Ryuna wasn’t surprised.

"Yes, Naru-chan, just like you and your siblings," she replied with a smile, seeing the other children relax. Even Kurama looked more interested than cautious, curious about where she was going with this. "When the clans finally made peace with each other, they built hidden villages. Each country has its own now, but back then, this was a new idea. The founders of Konoha built this village to have peace, but they feared other nations would attack them..."

"Why would they attack? Didn’t they want peace?" Garu asked, frowning, and Ryuna wondered why she still bothered asking them not to interrupt.

"It’s complicated, pup. They wanted peace, but they also needed money to buy clothes, land to farm, and food to survive," she explained, resigned. "If they lacked those things while we had them, they would attack to take them, understand?"

"But then people would die in war," Isobu said.

"Yes, but these kinds of hardships are not temporary; they accumulate. That means they usually get worse rather than better. For example, a lack of missions in a community where the main livelihood is ninja work means a lack of money. A lack of money means a lack of weapons, food, clothes, armor, and many other essential resources. Without them, they can’t improve their reputation to get more missions and more money," she explained. "In the case of food, it’s often a long-term problem due to natural conditions, and Konoha has very fertile land. So it makes sense that countries without it would covet ours. Do you understand now? Wanting peace isn’t always enough—circumstances must allow it too."

"I think I understand..." Isobu responded, frowning.

Ryuna wondered if the fact that he could now feel hunger gave him a different perspective. Suddenly, the lack of food became a problem he could relate to.

"Moving on. Because of the fear that a war might break out between the villages, the founders of Konoha made agreements with the other nations, even ceding some fertile land to Suna, which had the greatest fertility problem among all our neighbors," she continued the story. "But the others were troubled by Konoha’s strength. They feared we might attack them, given how powerful the founders were. So, with the intent to balance the power, the First Hokage captured all nine Tailed Beasts, sealed them with seals created by his wife, and gifted them to the other villages. He believed that if power was distributed equally, no one would feel so threatened as to start a war."

"But if they were afraid of Konoha's power, then they wouldn't have attacked," Shukaku said, narrowing his eyes.

"Since when has being faced with superior strength ever stopped someone from at least trying?" Ryuna retorted. How many people had tried to steal the Nine-Tails' power over the centuries and millennia, only to be killed by it? "Just like an animal becomes aggressive when it feels threatened or cornered, humans attack too. I'm not saying it’s a smart decision, but it happens."

Shukaku frowned and looked down. He understood how instincts could sometimes be stronger than reason. He himself was often too proud to back down from a fight, even when he knew he would lose. He did it all the time with his siblings.

"So the First Hokage captured all the Tailed Beasts and gave them away... But then he separated the siblings?" Naruto asked, tears welling up in his eyes. "He can't do that, Kaa-san! They’re gonna be sad, dattebayo!"

Ryuna didn’t miss how Shukaku, Isobu, and Kurama looked at Naruto for a second, surprised that the boy had considered the situation from the bijuu’s perspective. She ruffled Naruto’s blond hair with a sad smile.

"Yes, pup, they must have been very sad," she agreed before continuing. "The peace failed, as you all know. There have been three wars between the villages since Konoha’s founding. One thing you should remember is that peace cannot be built on slavery and injustice. Any peace that comes from that is doomed to eventually collapse. The First Hokage had no right to imprison the Tailed Beasts, let alone give them away as if he owned them. His decision cost the lives of thousands across all nations."

"Why?"

"Because, even though the First Hokage was strong enough to subdue the bijuu, he and Madara—who had already died by then—were the only ones capable of doing so. He was the only thing preventing other nations from using the Tailed Beasts against us. A throne won by force must be maintained by force," she explained. Ryuna couldn't help but resent her predecessors for the mess they had left behind. "It’s no surprise that the First Shinobi War began shortly after his death. His ‘gifts of peace’ became ‘weapons of war’ and killed many, many people."

"But they’re not weapons, right, Kaa-san?" Karin asked, fascinated by the story. "The Tailed Beasts, I mean."

"No, they’re not, even though many people say otherwise."

"Why would people say that if it's not true?" Garu frowned.

"Because it’s easier to take someone’s freedom, to enslave them, when you don’t see them as human or as thinking beings," Ryuna explained. "It’s something people do without even realizing it. This mentality is very common during war—it’s easier to kill your opponent if you don’t see them as a person with friends and family waiting for them at home. I suppose it helps avoid guilt."

"But that’s not right, Kaa-san."

"No, it’s not."

Kurama, Isobu, and Shukaku seemed to be processing the idea that they had been treated as slaves for so long. In truth, they had lived under conditions very similar to Karin’s, the difference being that the girl was very young and barely remembered it—though her body still bore faint scars from old bites. People used them as chakra batteries, as if they had the right to take whatever they wanted from them.

Ryuna felt sick whenever she thought about it.

"The Tailed Beasts were sealed inside people who were called Jinchuuriki and had their power used in human wars as if they were nothing more than weapons," she told the children, though half of them already knew this story. "Now, there’s something very important I need to talk to you about. It’s a secret. Are you all listening?"

"Yes, Kaa-san!" they chorused.

"Naruto-kun and Garu-kun were once Jinchuuriki," she said, and she saw how both children stiffened at the mention of their names, looking at each other in alarm. "But you aren’t anymore, dears. Kaa-san would never let you be used like that."

Both children visibly relaxed. Karin put an arm around Naruto’s shoulder while Isobu leaned against Garu in silent support. That was good—seeing them rely on each other.

"Isobu, Kurama, and Shukaku are Tailed Beasts," she revealed after a moment.

"Huh? But Kaa-san, they don’t have any tails!" Naruto said, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, are you trying to trick us?" Karin frowned as if she were preparing for a prank, and Ryuna smiled.

"They look human now, but originally, they were bigger than trees and had lots of tails, I swear!" she explained, watching as the three bijuu fell silent, observing their human siblings and awaiting their judgment. "It’s hard to take care of creatures that big because they’re very difficult to hide, so Kaa-san gave them small human bodies so I could take care of them until they grow up. When they’re older, they’ll be able to change shape and choose what they prefer."

Naruto, Karin, and Garu turned to Shukaku, Isobu, and Kurama as if expecting tails to suddenly appear. Nothing happened, and Kurama scoffed at their reactions.

"What are you staring at, you stinkers?" Kurama muttered.

"Where are your tails?" Garu asked.

"I’m not stinky!" Naruto protested.

"Is that why your chakra is so big?" Karin asked.

"Yes, Karin-chan, that’s why," Ryuna answered the only relevant question.

"Our tails are hidden. We can’t show them yet," Isobu explained, more patient than Kurama.

Ryuna was pleased to see that everyone took the news well. In fact, this was the easy part.

"Now, I need to continue, kids," she called them. They took a few seconds to abandon their curiosity and refocus on their mother. "Konoha only had Kurama-kun, while Isobu-kun was sealed in Kiri, and Shukaku was sealed in Suna. Isobu-kun ended up in Konoha kind of by accident, but Shu-kun... I stole Shukaku-kun’s Jinchuuriki from Suna."

"Stealing is wrong, Kaa-san!" Karin pointed out helpfully.

"Yes, dear, I know. But Kaa-san couldn’t leave things as they were," she explained to the pups. "You see, Garu-kun was Shu-kun’s Jinchuuriki, and he was just a baby when I saw him... I... Remember when I said people see the Tailed Beasts as monsters or weapons? Well, that applies to Jinchuuriki too, and Garu-kun was being terribly mistreated in Suna."

Garu tensed up beside his siblings. He was too young to remember that time, but Ryuna recalled how long it had taken his body to recover from what had been done to him. Now, he had a healthy size for someone his age, but before… he had been so small…

Trying not to show anything so as not to stress the children, Ryuna went to a cabinet and retrieved Garu's medical records. She kept a file for each of the children just in case, but Garu's was full of information since he had needed treatment for malnutrition due to the extreme stress his body had endured from lack of sleep. There were photos in the file to document the progress of his treatment.

That was what the children focused on when the file was handed to them after Ryuna unlocked the protective seals with a pulse of chakra.

The photos of the child—too thin, too small, with dark circles under his eyes that no baby should have—left them all in silence. The siblings huddled around Garu in silent support.

"If I hadn’t taken Garu-kun out of there, he might have died," she explained in a grave voice. "No one besides me and Kakashi knows about your origins, sweetheart, but if anyone else finds out, we’ll have a war. If that happens, I don’t know if we’ll be able to resist."

Now, all the little ones were staring at her with wide, fearful eyes.

"Then we won’t tell anyone, kaa-san!" Karin said quickly. "It’s our secret!"

"Yeah, dattebayo!"

"Yes, I would like you not to tell anyone, but I told you all of this so you could understand what I’m going to ask of you. It’s very important, and I need you to do as I say, okay?" she asked.

"Yes, kaa-san!"

"Each of you has certain unique abilities. In the case of Garu-kun and Shu-kun, they can control sand. It’s a very rare ability, typical of Suna, which is why you need to learn to use it and keep it hidden," she explained slowly so they would understand. "The other day, Garu-kun, you used this ability, didn’t you?"

"I’m sorry, kaa-san!" Garu had tears in his eyes as he spoke. "I didn’t know..."

"I know, sweetheart. You didn’t know because I hadn’t told you. It’s not your fault." She kissed his forehead. "But now that I know you inherited this ability, we need to train so you won’t use it by accident in front of others. Do you understand?"

"Yes, kaa-san," Garu sniffled.

"Do we all have abilities?" Karin asked.

"Yes. Although the rest of you don’t need to keep yours a secret, you all still need to learn to control them as best you can," she explained. "Take you, for example, Karin-chan. You’re an excellent sensor, but you also have healing chakra that others can absorb. To ensure that no one can use your chakra against your will, you need to learn to control it."

"Hmm, okay then."

"Until you all learn how to control your abilities, I’m going to ask you not to go to the playground with the other children," she said. As expected, the kids immediately started complaining that it wasn’t fair and that they wanted to see their friends. "There’s too much sand there and too many people. If something happens, the secret will be revealed, and your siblings will be in danger."

"But our friends..." Naruto pouted. Garu looked down, feeling guilty for the restriction.

"You can play with your friends in so many places—it doesn’t have to be the playground near the sand," she reminded them. "We’ll tell people that Garu-kun and Shu-kun have a sand allergy. You can even invite your friends over for a sleepover!"

"Really?!"

"Hai, hai," she said with amusement, ruffling the little ones’ hair.

"Uh, kaa-san?" Isobu called hesitantly. Ryuna looked at the child, who was pointing at the unconscious Kumo Jinchuuriki. "What about them?"

"They are Kumo’s Jinchuuriki. They attacked Konoha a few weeks ago, and now I’m separating them from their bijuu. That means soon, you’ll have two more little siblings," she told them, watching with amusement as they lit up with excitement.

"I want a little sister!" Karin shouted excitedly.

"Alright, alright." That would be a bit of a problem. Ryuna had never made a female body before—they were complicated when it came to forming the reproductive system—but there was always a first time, she supposed.

"Can I talk to them?" Kurama asked, his eyes fixed on the Jinchuuriki.

"Yes, you can," Ryuna allowed. "Could you explain to them what’s happening?"

"What if they don’t want to separate?"

"If they like their current Jinchuuriki, then they can be friends with them, each in their own body," Ryuna pointed out. "I won’t forbid them from interacting, but I won’t allow them to be taken from Konoha until they reach the minimum age of twelve. After that, the choice is theirs."

"Alright then," he said, pressing his closed fist against the hands of each Jinchuuriki, his eyes shutting.

Ryuna turned her attention back to the little ones, particularly Naruto and Karin, as they were the only true Uzumaki.

"Naru-kun, Karin-chan, do you mind if I take a little of your blood?" she asked.

"For what?" Naruto tilted his head like a curious little fox.

"Well, you were a very good Jinchuuriki—in the sense that your body adapted well to Kurama-kun’s chakra. The bijuu’s chakra is very difficult to handle, but the Uzumaki clan is special. That’s why I used a little of your blood to create your siblings' bodies," she explained. "Since we’re getting two more little siblings, I need a bit of your blood to make their new bodies."

"Oh, okay, kaa-san!" Naruto decided with a broad smile, apparently very happy to help bring his siblings to life.

Ryuna took a bit of the boy’s blood, careful not to take too much and leave him anemic. Karin also offered some, and Ryuna was vaguely curious to see if the girl’s unique abilities would be passed down through her DNA. Maybe?

Kurama finished his conversation with his siblings after a few minutes and returned to the side of his human siblings in silence. He didn’t share what had happened, and Ryuna decided not to ask.

The last thing to address:

"Alright, do you all understand how important it is to keep everything we talked about today a secret?"

"Yes, kaa-san!"

"Then I have a special seal that will ensure you don’t accidentally reveal this secret. Do you agree to use it?" Ryuna asked, noting how the bijuu tensed at the idea of being sealed. "It’s not that I don’t trust you, little ones, but sometimes things slip out by accident. If someone else finds out, very, very bad things will happen, so I need to be sure you won’t let anything slip. The seal doesn’t hurt, I promise. I’ll use it on myself too!"

The siblings exchanged glances before hesitantly agreeing.

That day, Ryuna placed a modified Root seal on each of her children and on herself. The torture and death factors had been removed, and the only thing it would do was stop their tongues from working whenever they tried to talk about the taboo subject. It would also serve as a barrier against any curious Yamanaka—while they could break through it if they tried hard enough, they wouldn’t be able to do so in secret.

She hoped that would be enough.

***

Ryuna was handling paperwork. Things had finally calmed down, and she felt she could start breathing more easily. Most of the changes were already underway, and the rest would come with time.

She still needed to reform the Academy and the jonin-sensei system with the genin teams. The current teaching system was incredibly inefficient and had so many flaws that Ryuna was honestly surprised they had as many high-level shinobi as they did, because luck played a huge role. Luck in having a sensei willing to teach, luck in the sensei having the right skills to teach what you needed to know, luck in not ending up on a misclassified mission and getting killed or crippled.

Ryuna did not like relying on luck, so all of that would have to change.

It wasn’t as if Tobirama had been stupid. He had created a system that worked when he was alive, ensuring a certain degree of educational quality when the village was significantly smaller than it was now. The current system was no longer adequate for the number of people it needed to accommodate.

Then there was the matter of the Daimyo. Placing the Root seal on him had been a good short-term solution, but in the long run, it was a major headache. What would happen if she died? The Daimyo would take out his fury on Konoha, that’s what. With the threat of war that Kakashi had brought up, Ryuna decided to take some precautions to prevent that from becoming another problem.

The most obvious solution was to make some modifications to the Daimyo’s seal so that it would kill its bearer the moment Ryuna died. The seal was designed to disappear the moment its anchor perished, so the evidence of what she had done should vanish.

But what about the next Daimyo? Shisui, her successor, would have to deal with him, but Ryuna could make things easier. She decided that once the education reforms were complete, she would ensure the Daimyo’s children were sent to Konoha to study. That way, they would learn to love the village and its values. If all went well, this would make them more cooperative with Shisui when he took the hat.

Yes, that was a good plan of action.

"What do you think led Danzo to do what he did?" Shisui spoke, breaking the silence of the office, and Ryuna stopped writing in her journal. Her plans for the future were always recorded.

"Danzo was what he was taught to be," Ryuna replied, her head slightly tilted, unsure if she understood the boy’s question.

"So it was the Nidaime’s fault?" Shisui frowned.

"That’s a rather simplistic way of looking at things," Ryuna pointed out, once again remembering why he wasn’t ready for the hat yet. Shisui flushed at her response, and Ryuna put away her notebook before settling into her chair, preparing to speak. "Danzo didn’t come from a ninja clan; he came from a civilian family at a time when that was almost unheard of. Tobirama not only accepted him as a student but also valued him, risking his life so that he and his companions could live. He probably had a certain inferiority complex due to his origins and a bit of arrogance due to his connection with the Nidaime."

Shisui didn’t speak, but his brows furrowed at this information. No one really thought about where the elders came from because they were elders. They were supposed to be respected for their position, simple as that. The only thing people remembered when talking about Danzo and his companions was that they were all students of the same man.

"Danzo followed the guidelines set by Tobirama to the letter. You know that whole 'Law of the Ninja' that Tobirama wrote and is still taught at the Academy today? Danzo followed it with no middle ground," she said. "A shinobi must always put the mission first. A shinobi must never show tears. A shinobi must see the hidden meanings within hidden meanings. A shinobi must follow the instructions of their commander. A shinobi must prepare before it’s too late. A shinobi must never show any weakness. The list goes on, you know."

She sighed, recalling how disturbing that Academy lesson had been, as if they were expected to stop being human. She remembered how they were expected to memorize some of those rules. It had been wartime, so it made sense that they were preparing children’s mindsets to be willing to put the mission above their own lives and those of their comrades if necessary. Kakashi and Itachi were examples of how that mentality could affect someone. Danzo was just a more extreme example of the same problem.

"Of course, Tobirama never expected those rules to be followed too rigidly. He himself wasn’t that obsessed with them—he evaluated situations and didn’t always make decisions by the book. He often let his biases influence him, which proves he wasn’t perfect," Ryuna recalled with a hint of disdain. "Danzo grew up trying to fit perfectly into the ideal mold that Tobirama created—an ideal that was never meant to serve as an absolute guide until his students made it so. Danzo is proof of the dangers of turning people into weapons. The 'perfect' shinobi that so many older generations aspire to create are more of a weakness than a strength. What happens when these perfect shinobi become our leaders?"

"Why do you think Danzo couldn’t find a middle ground?" Shisui asked softly, realizing that if he were the ideal that the elders of his clan sought, he wouldn’t have been chosen by Ryuna as a successor.

"I don’t know. Maybe it was because he lost his parents too young, maybe because he had an idealized image of Tobirama as a cold and calculating man, maybe because no one bothered to teach him empathy and kindness, only the cold logic of the battlefield," Ryuna speculated. "Maybe he was just a greedy man who saw an opportunity. Not that any of this matters much now. But reflecting on it and trying to understand is a good thing, Shisui. Never settle for simple answers, because they tend to blind us."

"What’s your opinion of him?"

"Hmm. He was a pragmatic man, willing to dirty his hands to do what he thought needed to be done. I can respect him for that," Ryuna pondered. "Our values, however, were vastly different. My clan values children just as the Uchiha value the Sharingan, because a teacher has no value if there are no students willing to learn. We value children more than our famous library, because knowledge can be relearned, but only if there are still students to pass it on to. That said, Danzo directly opposed the values I was taught from the moment I can remember. I don’t hate him, but I saw him as a threat to be eliminated."

"Is that why you built a school for civilians?" Shisui asked, his head tilted in curiosity.

"Yes. Another common trait in my clan is long-term thinking," Ryuna smirked. "My predecessors always focused a lot on short- and medium-term results, whereas I tend to focus more on the long term. I’m sure you can see that when analyzing my actions."

"Hmm, you mean how all your changes have created chaos in the village, instability," Shisui said, thinking it over. "They’re changes that promise great improvements, but I can’t see the Sandaime taking such risks to implement them."

"Exactly. A small window of opportunity opened after Kumo and Iwa’s attack. Do you know why?"

"You put on a display of strength worthy of the Yondaime," Shisui recalled with a wry smile. "No one would dare attack us again anytime soon."

"This won't last. Eventually, someone will figure out how to counter my technique, but for now, it's a loophole I can exploit," she agreed. "That's why I'm trying to implement as many changes as possible during this period, to make the next ones smoother if possible."

"What have you changed so far besides bringing women out of retirement and restructuring the mission divisions?" Shisui asked curiously. He had been working with Ryuna’s assistants until now, learning where everything was, how to organize the paperwork, and managing the daily schedule. Things were much more efficient now than they had ever been under the Sandaime.

"Well, I had to create many additional administrative roles in the Tower to handle so many documents daily," she explained. "We now have six times more staff here than before my tenure began. It’s a measure that doesn’t show many external effects, but it helps keep things organized, which will be crucial when I start implementing more changes in the future."

"Ugh, paperwork."

"You should be on your knees thanking me for sorting everything out before you take over, man. If I had left things as they were, you’d spend the rest of your days just signing documents," she said, pointing a pen at him accusingly.

Shisui raised his hands in surrender, but he was smiling.

"Yes, ma’am, I’m very grateful!"

"Hmm." She picked up her notebook again to continue organizing her plans. "Ah, it would be good if you set aside some time in your schedule. I'm going to teach you how to do bonsai. We'll also train at some point, but only after you've learned everything from my assistants."

"Bonsai?"

"Yes."

"W-W-Why?"

"Because it's useful."

"Mokuton?! Do you know how to use Mokuton?"

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh... I still don't get why I need to learn bonsai."

"Shisui?"

"Yes?"

"Unless you want to handle this pile of papers alone, I suggest you leave now."

"Alright."