Chapter 53 – The Great Purge
"The essence of genjutsu is interference—using spiritual energy to disguise reality and disrupt the opponent's senses. The stronger your spiritual power, the more convincing the disguise, the more likely you are to bypass the brain's defenses and make the illusion succeed.
"This technique of yours—Phantom Distortion Technique… it's Lord Tobirama's work, isn't it? It gets dangerously close to the true essence of genjutsu, which is exactly why it's so difficult to master."
Yūhi Shinku rose from the tatami mat, crossed the room to a bookcase, and pulled down three thick scrolls. He handed them to Ren.
"I've already given you some foundation work in genjutsu. You haven't forgotten, I trust? These are more advanced. Take them home. Study until you understand. When you truly grasp them, then we'll take the next step."
Ren's eyes reddened slightly. He accepted the heavy scrolls with both hands, bowed deeply, and walked out.
"Waaah—Waaah—"
Shinku had half a mind to see him out, but his daughter Kurenai's cries came from the back room. With an apologetic smile, he turned away to tend to her.
---
"Genjutsu. Amazing stuff, isn't it?"
Outside the door, Namikaze Minato leaned against the wall, nibbling on a box of wagashi, a playful grin on his face as he shot Ren a look that was half-tease, half-duel-invitation.
Ren scowled, hugging the heavy tomes.
"Like you've mastered Dragon Flame Release Song Technique? You've no right to laugh at me."
Minato froze. "…Ninjutsu isn't something you fail to learn. It's something you… contemplate. Enlightenment requires stillness. Only in stillness comes movement. Only in movement comes flight…"
He rattled off a stream of half-mystical phrases.
Ren ignored him, plucked a wagashi from the box, bit it—then immediately grimaced.
"Too sweet. How can you eat this garbage? Give me roasted sweet potatoes in the winter—that is food."
Minato didn't argue. He knew Ren preferred bland, earthy flavors, the opposite of his own sweet tooth.
When the box was empty, Minato tossed it aside, his expression sobering.
"White Fang's purge of the ANBU… you didn't get caught up in it, did you?"
Ren lowered his gaze, his eyes unreadable.
"No. The purge's true target was Danzō. The Hokage doesn't want his hands stretching too far… same as with the Konoha Gold incident."
"What do you think of this new unit, 'Root'?"
Ren's lips curled.
"Danzō's private garden. From now on, his dirty work gets even easier. Hiruzen punishes him with one hand, rewards him with the other. Root gives him independent authority."
Minato tilted his head, gray in his eyes. "Hanegawa's already departed… when do we move?"
"In the next few days," Ren answered calmly. "I've checked his ANBU mission records. The old bastard won't be easy. The more we know, the better our chances."
Minato gave a quiet hum and didn't press further.
---
A few words were enough—they had just retraced Konoha's recent Great Purge.
Since the Konoha Gold affair, Ren and Minato's alliance had solidified. Both were bright stars of the new generation, well-known but with little actual power. Politically, they were natural allies. Add to that a genuine personal bond, and they had grown closer by the day.
As for the purge itself, carried out by White Fang at Hiruzen's command, the two of them had long since reached the same conclusion:
It was Hiruzen warning Danzō, reasserting that his word was absolute in Konoha. But in the same stroke, he fed Danzō a sweet date—letting him establish Root.
In the original timeline, Root existed, yes—but not this early. Ren's butterfly wings had shifted the schedule.
Now Danzō held independent authority. The Shimura clan's control over the smaller clans tightened. Talented children graduating the Academy were funneled straight into Root. Anyone Hiruzen deemed "untrustworthy" followed the same path.
The Curse Seal of Binding Tongue hadn't appeared yet, so on the surface Root was still under Hiruzen's oversight. But Ren knew Danzō too well. He would never allow Hiruzen's influence to linger within Root.
---
"Should we try approaching Lord Sakumo?" Minato asked suddenly, taking two of the massive scrolls from Ren's arms as they walked. "He's more seasoned than us, and this purge… it undercut his authority. He might resent Danzō."
Ren shook his head without hesitation.
"The day after we approach him, Hiruzen will know everything we said. Do you want that?"
Minato looked almost incredulous.
"Lord White Fang can't be that naive… doesn't he realize he's being pushed out?"
Ren only shook his head, saying nothing.
Don't use your political-gamer's lens to judge a 'pure' shinobi.
Seeing that expression, Minato fell silent. He too had once been a "pure" shinobi. But since meeting Ren, he'd been… waking up. And the more awake he became, the more wrong the village felt.
What kind of village spends all day trying to control its prodigies? If they want loyalty, all they have to do is pay fairly, share jutsu freely—then, over time, those prodigies will come to appreciate the village on their own. And with freedom, they'll only grow stronger.
Geniuses are geniuses because they have wings no one can clip. What Hiruzen Sarutobi and Danzō were doing now… was cutting those wings and turning them into soldier ants.
If I were Hokage…
A sharp glint of ambition flashed in Minato's eyes. Once, he had been content to wait his turn. Now, impatience was eating at him.
"How long until the next jōnin council meeting? And how many votes to submit a proposal?"
Ren's question cut through Minato's daydream.
"Every spring—so three or four months from now. There are 828 jōnin in total. Ten votes to bring a proposal forward. Simple majority for a minor measure. Two-thirds for a major one."
Minato's mind was a steel trap—he barely had to think before answering.
Ren's brow furrowed.
"What I mentioned before—about the Hyūga. Have you made up your mind?"
"I think you're moving too fast."
"I'm not afraid of a pulled tendon," Ren said flatly.
"Anything involving a great clan will be a major measure. Who could we even rally? You're just an ANBU squad captain. I'm only one of Hiruzen's possible heirs."
Minato chuckled. The idea of interfering in the Hyūga clan head election struck him as absurd.
Small clans? Sure, he could grit his teeth and play along. But the Hyūga? They had seventy to eighty jōnin—second only to the Uchiha.
"Why must you interfere with the Hyūga leadership? What's in it for us?"
"We need influence. We need followers. We need power that doesn't come stamped with Hiruzen's approval. Is that enough of a reason?"
Ren's beautiful eyes were empty of warmth, and when he looked at Minato, it sent a cold shiver down the blond's spine.
"Then why not target the Uchiha? They're like orphans—Hiruzen barely bothers with them."
"We hit them only after the Hyūga. Otherwise, the moment the word 'Uchiha' is attached to us, we won't be able to move an inch."
"So we have to do this?" Minato bared his teeth in a half-smile.
"We have to. You—Jiraiya's student, Konoha's rightful successor—you don't have supporters?"
"I do," Minato answered automatically, then realized the trap and laughed. "And you—Tsunade's disciple, trained by Lord Orochimaru—don't tell me you don't have supporters."
Ren smiled back.
"Maybe not me. But Lady Tsunade? She has plenty."
"Courting clans, building factions… why is it that being friends with you always drags me into this sort of thing?" Minato said, standing at the gates of the Senju compound. He tossed the scrolls in his hands to Ren.
"You like it, don't you?" Ren asked.
"…I do."