Konohagakure – Hokage's Office,
The summons had been marked with a seal Kakashi Hatake had only seen twice before: the triple-enclosed leaf, denoting an emergency of existential village import. It bypassed the normal chain of command, arriving via a pale-faced ANBU operative at his apartment door in the dead of night. No explanation was given.
Now, standing in the dimly lit antechamber outside the Hokage's office, he felt a cold knot of foreboding. The room was filled with the village's most elite, their usual casual demeanour absent. Might Guy was uncharacteristically silent, his arms crossed, brow furrowed. Asuma Sarutobi smoked a cigarette, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual. Kurenai Yūhi stood close to him, her sharp eyes scanning the room. Dozens of other clan heads and Jonin commanders—Hyūga Hiashi, Aburame Shibi, Ino-Shika-Chō patriarchs, even the usually absent Inuzuka Tsume—were present, their collective chakra a low hum of tense anxiety.
The door to the office opened. Not an ANBU, but Shikaku Nara himself emerged. His face was the colour of old parchment, his eyes holding a depth of exhaustion that went beyond mere sleeplessness.
Shikaku: "We will begin. Single file. Absolute silence. What you are about to hear does not leave this tower. To speak of it prematurely is treason."
They filed in. The Hokage's office was arranged differently. The desk had been moved to the side. Sarutobi Hiruzen stood before his chair, looking like a man who had aged a decade in a week. Flanking him were Homura and Koharu, but they seemed like ghosts. And in the centre of the room, seated in a simple wooden chair, was a figure that made Kakashi's single visible eye narrow.
Danzo Shimura.
He was dressed in plain robes. His signature bandaged arm was bare, but it was encased in a complex, glowing seal-bracelet that pulsed with a dull, restraining light. More seals were visible on his neck and forehead, sealing his chakra. Two ANBU with unique, spiral-patterned masks stood behind him, hands on their sword hilts. This wasn't protection. This was a containment detail.
Hiruzen did not offer pleasantries. His voice, amplified slightly by chakra, filled the dead-silent room.
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "You are here because the village faces not an external enemy, but the unmasking of an internal one whose crimes are of such magnitude that every one of you, as leaders of Konoha, must bear witness to the truth. For decades, we have been governed by a lie. A lie cultivated by this man: Danzo Shimura."
He gestured, and Shikaku stepped forward, holding a stack of files.
Shikaku: "Over the past 96 hours, following evidence provided by Kumogakure and our own investigations, we have uncovered the full scope of crimes committed by Danzo and his ROOT organisation, operating outside the Hokage's and the Council's authority. I will summarise. You will receive detailed briefings later."
Kakashi leaned against the wall, his posture casual, but his mind was a razor-sharp intake filter, analysing every word.
Shikaku: "Item One: The destruction of Uzushiogakure, 24 years ago. Our treaty of mutual defence was violated not by inaction, but by deliberate sabotage. Danzo, through intermediaries, provided the attacking forces of Iwa, Kiri, and Kumo with detailed intelligence on Uzushiogakure's defensive seals, patrol routes, and population centres. He then fabricated intelligence to delay our relief force by 72 critical hours. The annihilation of our closest allies was an inside job, orchestrated to eliminate a power he could not control and to harvest their genetic and Fuinjutsu remains for his experiments."
A collective, sharp inhale. Hiashi Hyūga's Byakugan veins bulged momentarily. The Uzumaki were legend, kin to the Senju and by extension, to Konoha itself. This was sacrilege.
Shikaku: "Item Two: The systematic attrition of the Senju clan following the death of the First Hokage. Contrary to popular belief, the Senju did not simply 'fade into the village.' Danzo, viewing the Senju's ideology of integration as a threat to his vision of a militarised, controlled Konoha, targeted them. Clan members who removed their names to become simple villagers met with a disproportionate number of 'missions gone wrong.' Others were discreetly sold as prisoners to enemy nations via black-market channels. He accelerated the dilution and destruction of the First Hokage's bloodline to remove a moral and political counterweight."
Asuma's cigarette stopped halfway to his lips. The Senju were the founding clan. This was like poisoning the roots of the World Tree itself. Kakashi's mind flickered to Tsunade, the last great Senju, who had left the village in grief and disgust. Did she know? Did she sense it?
Shikaku: "Item Three: The Uchiha clan massacre. It was not a pre-emptive strike against a coup. It was the final act of a decades-long campaign of psychological and political warfare. Danzo, with stolen Uchiha eyes already in his possession, feared their potential power. He orchestrated their segregation after the Nine-Tails attack. He had ROOT agents planted within the clan to foment radicalism and within the civilian council to spread fear of the Uchiha. He manufactured all evidence of the so-called coup, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. He then presented the thirteen-year-old Itachi Uchiha with an impossible choice: a civil war that would destroy the clan and the village, or a single-night purge with his brother spared. He forced a child to become the blade that carved out the cancer he created."
The air left the room. The Uchiha massacre was a dark, accepted scar. To learn that it was a surgical strike planned by their own leadership was vomitus. Kakashi thought of Itachi, that calm, terrifying prodigy. A child. A weapon aimed by Danzo.
Shikaku's voice grew even flatter, a defence against the horror. "Item Four: Human experimentation. Over 1,243 confirmed subjects over thirty years. Civilians, missing-nin, prisoners of war, and Konoha shinobi are listed as MIA. Experiments included forced Hashirama cell integration, bloodline limit trauma induction, chakra pathway grafting, and compatibility testing for ocular transplantation." He paused, looking directly at Danzo's sealed arm. "He maintains a collection. Of Sharingan. And one specific eye: the Mangekyō Sharingan of Shisui Uchiha, stolen on the night of his death."
A wave of nausea hit Kakashi. Shisui. The teleporter, the kind one, who believed in the village. Danzo had taken his eye, driven him to suicide. And the other eyes… a collection. Like trophies.
Then came the blow that struck Kakashi directly in the soul.
Shikaku: "Item Five: The persecution and death of Sakumo Hatake, the White Fang. After his mission failure, the ensuing vilification was not spontaneous public outrage. It was a coordinated character assassination engineered by Danzo through rumour networks and planted critics in the mission office. Danzo viewed Sakumo's peerless skill and independent moral compass as a direct threat. He sought to break the man who represented a path of strength not derived from darkness. He succeeded."
Kakashi did not move. He did not breathe. The world tunnelled. The muffled sounds of the room faded. He saw his father's empty smile in their sunlit home. He heard the whispers in the streets. He felt the cold isolation that followed. All of it… manufactured. His father, the hero who chose comrades over a mission, hadn't been broken by a fickle village. He'd been murdered by a calculated, political hit job. The rage that filled him was so cold it burned. His left eye, the Sharingan, itched beneath his headband.
Shikaku: "Item Six: The Nine-Tails attack and the deaths of the Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, and his wife, Kushina Uzumaki. The security around Kushina's childbirth was compromised. Danzo provided the exact time and location to the attacker. That attacker has been positively identified via chakra signature as Obito Uchiha, believed to be KIA at the Battle of the Kannabi Bridge."
Thud.
It was the sound of Kakashi's back hitting the wall as his legs gave out for a second. He caught himself, but the world was spinning.
Obito.
The name was a spike of rusted iron through his ribs. The cheerful, late, idealistic boy who gave him an eye. The hero whose name he bore. The ghost whose memory defined his every failure.
Obito.
Alive.
A traitor.
The instrument of Minato-sensei's and Kushina's deaths.
The unleasher of the Nine-Tails.
The murderer of… hundreds. Thousands. Biwako Sarutobi. Countless others.
The memories collided. Obito was crushed under rocks. Obito's eye was burning in his socket the night of the attack. The masked man's lone Sharingan stared at him during the attack. The same eye. It had been him. All along.
The logical part of his mind, the cold ANBU operative, connected the dots: Danzo's manipulation, Obito's survival radicalisation, the targeting of the Uchiha and Uzumaki… it was a connected web. But the human part of him, the part that still visited the Memorial Stone every day, that spoke to Obito's name, shattered into a million jagged pieces.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Guy. His rival's face was uncharacteristically solemn, his eyes wide with shared horror. Kakashi realised he was trembling.
Danzo's Fate and the Political Nightmare
Hiruzen spoke again, his voice cutting through the thick fog of shock.
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "The political consequences are dire. Kumogakure holds the evidence of Danzo's attempt on their soil and his collaboration with Obito. They have the surviving Uzumaki and the last loyal Uchiha. The Fire Daimyo has been presented with the facts. His decree is absolute."
He looked at Danzo with utter contempt.
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "Danzo Shimura is stripped of all rank, titles, and honours. He is a traitor and a war criminal. In four days, he and I will travel to the Land of Iron, to the court of the Samurai Lord. There, before the Fire Daimyo, the Lightning Daimyo, and the neutral Samurai, he will be formally condemned. His sealed state will be examined. The stolen eyes in his arm will be removed and, if possible, returned to the earth. His fate thereafter will be in the hands of the Daimyo, but it will be a public, symbolic execution of Konoha's rot. We do this to pre-empt a war we cannot win and to begin a penance we may never complete."
The room was ice-cold. The Hokage was submitting himself and his former friend to a foreign power's judgment. The humiliation was unprecedented, but the alternative—war with a fortified, morally outraged Kumo, likely supported by other villages smelling blood—was unthinkable.
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "Furthermore, under the National Crisis Act, I have recalled our two remaining Sannin: Jiraiya and Tsunade. Their presence is required to help the village in the face of this upheaval and the external pressure that will follow."
Tsunade. The last Senju. Coming home to a village that murdered her clan. The irony was bitter.
The meeting dissolved into a chaos of quiet, horrified questions and logistical briefings. Kakashi heard none of it. He moved on autopilot, following the stream of bodies out of the tower. The dawn light was too bright, too cruel.
He found himself not at the Memorial Stone, but at the training ground where Team Minato used to meet. Where Obito had vowed to become Hokage. Where Rin had smiled. Where Minato-sensei had shown them the meaning of the Will of Fire.
It wasn't tears. It was a silent, convulsive retching of the soul. He collapsed to his knees, his forehead pressed against the cold dirt. His breathing came in ragged, useless gasps. The images flashed, unstoppable:
Obito is giving him the eye. "I'm giving you my light."
The masked man's single Sharingan. "Move, Kakashi."
Minato-sensei's body over the Nine-Tails' claw. Kushina's fading smile as she held Naruto.
His father's blood on the tatami mat.
Itachi's blank eyes as he slaughtered his clan.
All connected. A chain of betrayal forged by Danzo, with Obito as a link, turned into a weapon.
A new, searing pain exploded behind his left eye. The Sharingan, Obito's eye, pulsed with a heat he'd never felt. The world bled crimson. The tomoe spun wildly, and for a fleeting, agonising second, they shifted, threatening to morph into a new, ugly shape before collapsing back into the standard three tomoe. The cost was a spike of pain so intense he saw white.
He clutched his head, a raw, animal sound tearing from his throat. The eye was reacting to the psychic shock, to the devastating truth of its original owner's fate. It was a curse, a lie grafted onto his face.
"Kakashi."
He didn't look up. He knew the voice. Hiruzen. The old Hokage stood a few feet away, alone, without his guards. He looked even more ancient in the morning light.
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "I know… There are no words. For what was done to your father. For what Obito became. I failed you. I failed Minato. I failed everyone."
Kakashi: (His voice was a shredded rasp, still facing the ground) "He gave me his eye. He told me to protect our comrades. And he… he killed them. He killed the sensei. He helped kill an entire clan. Children. Newborns." The word 'newborns' stuck in his throat. Naruto. He'd been a newborn.
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "The boy you knew died under that rock. What emerged was a monster shaped by Madara Uchiha's will and Danzo's opportunism. Do not let the ghost of the boy you loved be poisoned by the deeds of the man he was twisted into. That is Danzo's final, desired victory."
Kakashi finally looked up, his visible eye bloodshot, the Sharingan now deactivated but throbbing. "Why tell us all of it? The Senju… the Uzumaki… my father… why not just Danzo's crimes against the state?"
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "Because the state is built on people, Kakashi. We have to see the full root to understand how deep we must cut. Your father's death was not a village failing. It was an assassination. You deserve that truth. Tsunade deserves the truth about her clan. The Uchiha survivors, wherever they are, deserve that truth. We must bear the weight of it, all of it, if we are to have any hope of building something new that won't collapse under the same lies."
He knelt stiffly, putting a frail hand on Kakashi's shoulder.
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "I am calling back Jiraiya and Tsunade. I need you too, Kakashi. Not as a perfect soldier. Not as the friend of a ghost. I need you as a man who understands the cost of these lies better than anyone. I need you to help me protect what's left. Especially Naruto. He is the legacy of everything they tried to destroy. And he is now, whether we wish it or not, a focal point. For Kumo's Indra, for Obito, for the future. Will you stand?"
Kakashi looked at the old man's hand, then at the training ground. The ghosts were still there, but they were different now. Obito's ghost was split in two—the smiling boy and the masked monster. His father's ghost was no longer ashamed, but martyred.
He took a deep, shuddering breath. The cold, analytical part of his mind reasserted itself, wrapping the raw, bleeding pain in layers of mission-focused clarity. There was a job to do. Enemies were clear: Danzo (soon to be dealt with), Obito (alive, out there), the looming shadow of Kumo's judgment. And a village to protect from the fallout of its own sins.
He nodded, slowly getting to his feet.
Kakashi: "I stand for Konoha. Not for the village that was. For one, it might become. And for my father's name."
Sarutobi Hiruzen: "That is all I can ask. Prepare. The world is about to change around us. And we must be ready to navigate the storm."
As Hiruzen walked away, Kakashi turned his face to the rising sun. The light hurt his eyes—both the visible one and the one that held a traitor's gift. He had a new mission now. Not just to protect the village, but to help exorcise its demons. And the first demon he had to face was the one wearing the face of his oldest friend, living in the eye in his head.