Chapter 32 — Back into Root Again
"Your recovery looks good. You can start preparing for discharge."
Tsunade leaned forward as she carefully examined Namikaze Yami's condition. A faint, pleasant fragrance drifted to his nose, making his thoughts waver for a moment. Paired with her professional attire, it was hard not to feel his heartbeat unconsciously quicken.
It had already been more than three months since they returned to Konoha from the Rain Country front.
Compared to Yami, Nawaki and Shibi's injuries were child's play. Both had been discharged within two or three weeks and sent home to recuperate.
Especially Nawaki—thanks to the Senju clan's formidable constitution, he was already bouncing around in less than a week. In the end, Tsunade had forcibly kept him hospitalized for another two weeks just to be safe.
As for Yami, his bones had fully healed, and under Tsunade's meticulous care, his chakra pathways had recovered to roughly sixty or seventy percent.
Whether they would ever fully recover, however, was—according to Tsunade—largely a matter of fate. Even so, she openly praised Yami's physique as possessing one of the strongest recovery abilities she had ever seen.
"Yami-niisan, we came to see you."
Nawaki and Shibi walked into the ward carrying fruit baskets. Noticing Tsunade present, Nawaki immediately toned down his usual exuberance.
"Sis."
"Tsunade-sama."
Tsunade gave them a slight nod in response.
"You came at just the right time," Yami said with a smile. "I was just about to be discharged. Lying in this hospital any longer, even I can't take it."
"Perfect timing then!" Nawaki said eagerly. "Tonight's on us—we'll celebrate Yami-niisan finally getting out of the hospital!"
Yami had no objections. To keep his secrets hidden, he had fully cooperated with Tsunade's treatment—though he had to admit the process wasn't entirely unpleasant.
That said, following Tsunade's instructions meant he'd been on a bland hospital diet this whole time. His stomach was long overdue for a proper feast.
As for the battlefield promotion mission, it had been completed without controversy. Nawaki and the others had already submitted the mission report on his behalf. Once Yami found time to register at the Hokage Tower, he would be able to officially receive his chūnin flak jacket.
From their conversation, Yami also learned that the Iwagakure forces on the Rain Country front had withdrawn back to the Land of Earth.
Officially, the explanation was to reduce ninja casualties and focus on cultivating the Five-Tails' jinchūriki. In reality, however, Konoha's intelligence network had already uncovered the truth—
Iwagakure had lost the Five-Tails.
Although Konoha found Iwagakure's stubborn posturing rather amusing, both great powers tacitly accepted the outcome and chose not to press the issue.
With Iwa withdrawing, Sunagakure was left standing alone. Unable to hold out any longer, Suna had already begun seeking peace with Konoha, offering reparations in exchange. The Second Shinobi World War was, for all practical purposes, over—only scattered skirmishes remained.
Victory in the war had cost Konoha dearly in manpower, but the village itself—and the Third Hokage, who had led it to triumph—now stood at the height of their prestige.
Stepping out of Konoha Hospital, Namikaze Yami felt a strange sense of dislocation, as if waking from a long dream. Without the ever-present scent of disinfectant, he even felt a little unaccustomed.
He didn't rush home. Instead, he wandered through the village for a while, quietly marveling at how quickly Konoha had recovered after the war.
As the victor, the village was filled with an atmosphere of pride. Smiles lit the faces of civilians, all wearing expressions of shared glory. Many shops had even hung banners reading "Celebrating Victory—Special Discounts Storewide!"
As he walked, a figure suddenly stepped into his path.
It was a ninja wearing an animal mask, dressed very much like a Konoha ANBU operative. Yet the mechanical coldness radiating from the man instantly gave away his true identity.
"State your business," Yami asked flatly.
He had never bothered putting on a polite face for Root. Whatever attitude he showed them made no difference anyway.
"Danzō-sama requests your presence."
The Root operative's emotionless voice made Yami pause.
The tone was… unexpectedly courteous. He had been fully prepared to ignore the summons outright, yet this politeness made him wary instead.
Polite before the blade, Yami thought. Lure me into Root, then tell me my crimes have been exposed and I should confess and rot in Konoha Prison for the rest of my life?
Still, confident in his own strength, he followed without resistance. He was genuinely curious what Danzō was plotting.
It wasn't his first time in Root—but it was the first time he had entered through its front gate.
After passing through several layers of overt and covert security checks, he finally reached the interior of the base.
The inside looked much the same as before, with no obvious changes. The only visible difference was the sheer number of Root operatives rushing about, clearly busy.
On the way deeper inside, he even ran into Shimura Nobumasa himself—wearing that same Danzō-like, perpetually cold expression. Yami couldn't help but think that truly despicable people always seemed to live forever.
"Danzō-sama, Namikaze Yami has arrived."
The Root ninja knocked respectfully on the door of the innermost office.
"Enter," Danzō's voice came from within.
The moment Yami stepped inside, he felt a flicker of surprise.
The office was no longer arranged as a near-perfect imitation of the Hokage's office. Instead, the furnishings were stark—almost ascetic, even austere.
Perhaps Danzō truly believed that Hiruzen Sarutobi was subtly warning him, and had made these changes in response.
Of course, Yami had no way of knowing that. In his mind, it was far simpler: Danzō had been thoroughly looted of his private stockpiles and was probably suffering a financial crisis.
"Danzō-sama," Yami said, offering a perfectly polite greeting that rang hollow even to his own ears. He carefully reined in his emotions, not letting any of them show.
"Mm."
Danzō replied in a calm, inscrutable tone, seemingly unsurprised by Yami's attitude.
"You're impressive. I've reviewed your record—outstanding, by any measure."
"You flatter me," Yami replied smoothly, having no idea where this was heading and choosing to play along for the moment.
"As a civilian-born ninja, I understand your difficulties," Danzō continued. "Without outside help, your career would likely stall at the rank of chūnin."
He paused deliberately, watching Yami's reaction. When Yami remained impassive, Danzō's satisfaction deepened, and he went on.
"You need a patron. More importantly, you need an organization. Join my Root. Ninjutsu, secret techniques—I can provide them all."
He looked at Yami with barely concealed pride, as if already envisioning the young man kneeling in gratitude.
Seconds passed. Yami remained silent.
Assuming Yami hadn't heard him clearly, Danzō was about to repeat himself when Yami cut in.
"I refuse."
"…Very good. Welcome to—" Danzō froze mid-sentence. "What did you just say?"
"I refuse," Yami repeated, louder this time, his voice firm and unmistakable.
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