"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

— Edmund Burke

--

The battlefield was silent now, except for the faint groans of the dying. Blood pooled in the cracks of earth—then my ears caught it: a faint shuffle, a breath.

My eyes narrowed toward the tree line.

There.

Behind a cracked trunk, someone crouched. His chest rose and fell in ragged bursts, as if every breath might betray him. I walked slowly, my boots crunching over broken branches.

When I rounded the tree, I saw him.

He was taller, leaner, his forehead protector hanging loose around his neck. 

He sat slumped against the bark, a kunai lying useless in the dirt beside him. His hands rested on his knees, not from readiness—but from exhaustion.

For the first time today, an enemy didn't raise a blade. Didn't scream. Didn't beg. He just… sat there.

I stopped a few feet away. The silence stretched.

"You're not even going to try?" I asked quietly.

The man gave a broken laugh. "Try? Against you? I saw what you did to the others… that wasn't a fight. That was just slaughter."

His voice cracked, but there was no plea in it—just resignation.

"Then why stay? Why didn't you run like the others?" I asked, frowning.

His head slumped back against the bark, and for a moment, I thought he might pass out. Then he whispered, voice barely audible:

"Because… if I go back… they'll kill me anyway. Better to die here, by your hand."

***

The Hokage's office always smelled faintly of tobacco, ink, and exhaustion. Piles of scrolls lay stacked like miniature walls around the old man's desk, as if paper could shield him from reality. Hiruzen Sarutobi sat in his chair, the weight of the Hokage hat discarded to the side, his pipe glowing faintly in the dim light. He looked every bit the weary leader—until the door slammed open.

"Hokage-sama!"

Hikari stormed in, her boots cracking against the floor, her face flushed red with fury.

Hiruzen exhaled a slow puff of smoke. "…Ah shit. Here we go again."

"You!" she jabbed a finger at him.

A while later…

Her words were coming nonstop, like kunai thrown in a storm.

Her uniform was scorched, hair messy, cheeks still smudged with dust and blood. She planted both hands on his desk with a sharp thud, leaning across the mountain of paperwork like she was ready to strangle the Hokage himself.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, I'm listening—for the last hour, Hikari. And I will look into it," Hiruzen replied evenly, though the way he dragged out the words made it sound more like: please, Kami, just strike me down now.

"You old bastard!" she snapped. "Do you even realize how close I was to death today? Death. As in no more me! And guess what? The enemy somehow knew exactly where I'd be, when I'd be there, and who I'd be with. Do you think I carry around a smoke signal that says 'attack me'? Or do you think maybe, just maybe, it's your damn job to keep my information from leaking?"

Hiruzen took a long, slow drag from his pipe. He exhaled a cloud of smoke directly into her face, which only made her cough and glare harder.

"Hikari," he said in that maddeningly calm voice. "Yelling at me won't change what happened."

"No, but it makes me feel better," she shot back. "You sit here in your cushioned chair, puffing smoke like some wise old chimney, while I'm out there ducking kunai aimed straight at my skull! And then you have the audacity—the sheer gall—to treat it like it's just another Tuesday in the office. You once told me I was your daughter. Tell me, does that actually mean anything to you? Or is it just convenient when you want to guilt-trip me into missions?"

Her gaze sharpened, anger cracking just enough to show the hurt underneath.

That landed. The old man's eyes flickered, the lines around them tightening. For a moment, he didn't look like the Hokage—he looked like a father caught off guard.

"Yes… you are my daughter, Hikari," Hiruzen said, his tone steady but heavy, each word carrying the weight of years. "I haven't just said it many times—I've meant it every time. Even now, while you're standing here, yelling at me like I'm the enemy."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands, then setting his chin upon them. His expression darkened into shadow—serious now.

"So," Hiruzen said quietly. "You believe there's a spy."

Hikari slammed her palm flat on the desk. "Of course there's a spy! How else would the enemy know my location? You think they just roll dice and happen to land on 'let's ambush Hikari today'? Do you think a thousand shinobi just happened to stroll by and find me there?"

"I'll conduct a thorough investigation, and I will get to the bottom of this," Hiruzen said. He already had his suspicions. Then he added, "But first—tell me, who was that man outside?"

The air shifted. Hikari's fury didn't simmer—it flipped, like she hadn't been on the verge of waging war with Hiruzen just seconds ago. Her posture straightened, her lips curled into a smug little smirk, and her eyes softened into a dreamy haze that made Hiruzen feel like reaching for a stronger brand of tobacco.

"Ohhh, you noticed him?" she said, clasping her hands dramatically over her cheeks as blush reddened them. "He's going to be my husband. Can't you see how cute he is?" 

Then her face flipped again—instant fury. "OLD MAN! Do I look like an idiot to you? Don't you dare change the subject! This is about Danzō and his rats. He's behind it, I'm a hundred percent sure. Arrest him already and throw him into the deepest, darkest hole you've got!"

Hiruzen leaned back, thinking about the leak and how to get proof against Danzō. His brows crept down, pipe lowering, as he blinked slowly. Then her earlier words caught up to him. "…Your what?"

(Pic)

--

(A/N)

💬 Leave a review or  drop a comment — every bit of support helps this story grow!

🚀 Want to read ahead?

Join my Patreon and help keep the story alive! ❤️

/pacifist01

Don't forget to give me hearts