Chapter 34 — Sticky Danzō
When he woke up, Namikaze Yami felt as if his lips still carried the soft, warm sensation from the night before. In his mind surfaced Tsunade's flustered, half-embarrassed, half-pouting expression.
Naturally, the two of them had stopped at that single kiss—nothing more. After all, Yami was still too young.
Still, though he hadn't pressed the advantage, the heat in his gaze had said everything.
Even Tsunade, usually so commanding, had shown a rare trace of panic under the influence of alcohol. The way she shut the door and left almost looked like a hasty retreat.
Yami didn't indulge in the sweetness of that ambiguous memory. He knew very well that strength was the foundation of everything. After washing up, he headed straight for the training grounds, ready to wake up a body that had lain idle for months and grown a little stiff.
On the way, he briefly considered stopping by to pick up his chūnin vest. But after a second thought, he dismissed the idea—since the registration was already complete, the vest itself wasn't all that necessary.
Besides, apart from symbolizing rank, that green flak jacket really wasn't very good-looking.
In fact, given his experience and strength, becoming a chūnin meant he was already qualified to lead a team.
Especially since Konoha was unlikely to assign him another jōnin instructor. Even a village as strong as Konoha couldn't afford to keep "losing" jōnin after two of his previous team leaders had died in succession.
A jōnin was top-tier combat power in any village—definitely not something to be treated as expendable.
"Oss, my youthful friend!"
Might Duy suddenly popped out from a street corner, though his steps looked a bit awkward.
Having trained with Duy for a long time, Yami immediately sensed something was off and asked hesitantly,
"Brother Duy… what happened to you?"
"Got a bit hurt in the waist during a mission," Duy said, clutching his lower back with a helpless grin.
"Did you go to Konoha Hospital?"
"I did. They said I just need to rest—small problem! The burning flame of youth sometimes needs a temporary shutdown for maintenance!"
He still flashed his trademark thumbs-up and brilliant white grin, optimism undiminished.
After a brief exchange, Yami bade Might Duy farewell and continued toward the training grounds.
He had barely begun warming up when he keenly sensed something off. Turning toward a distant patch of shadow, he said coldly,
"Who's there? Come out."
The person hiding in the shadows neither revealed themselves nor made a sound, completely ignoring his warning.
Yami sensed no hostility from the other party. Unwilling to force the issue, he switched to a different training area instead.
Yet the figure followed like a shadow, always close behind, lurking in concealment and watching.
That constant feeling of being surveilled made Yami deeply uncomfortable. He strode straight toward the hiding place and, when his patience finally snapped, threw a punch. Only then did the other party retreat and reveal themselves.
Seeing who it was only stoked his anger—a Root operative.
"What exactly is Root trying to do?" Yami demanded.
"Executing a Root security mission," the operative replied flatly.
As fellow Konoha shinobi, that answer left little room for argument; Yami couldn't exactly drive them off by force.
But he knew perfectly well that this so-called "security mission" was nonsense—clearly an excuse. Shimura Danzō was still brooding over his rejection.
Since the operative seemed determined to persist, Yami decided to accept it for now and focus on training.
What made it even more infuriating was that the operative pulled out a notebook and began recording his every move. Whether it was to analyze his training patterns or simply to provoke him, this crossed Yami's line.
"Damn you, Shimura Danzō," he snorted inwardly, keeping his face impassive.
The worst kind of trouble was someone like Danzō—clingy as glue, with both authority and time on his hands.
Watching the operative blatantly harass him, Yami's eyes flickered with an idea. If handled properly, he could turn this around and make Danzō choke on it.
When the day's training ended, the "silent observer" finally withdrew.
Yami didn't head straight home. Instead, he wandered the streets, his sharp gaze sweeping the surroundings, quietly noting details.
For several days in a row, the same Root operative appeared on schedule at the training grounds, like a mute shadow.
On the surface, Yami ignored him. In secret, he searched for a way to break the deadlock.
That day, he "happened" to run into Uchiha Yashiro at a dango shop while the latter was buying tricolor dumplings.
This Uchiha jōnin had a stern demeanor and was famously curt with everyone while on duty.
Born a civilian, Yami understood the Uchiha temperament well—their pride was etched into their bones, and they looked down equally on anyone who wasn't an Uchiha.
But if you played along with that pride, you might reap unexpected gains.
Putting on a look of admiration, Yami struck up a conversation. A few lines about taijutsu training opened the door, and soon they were discussing recent bottlenecks. Yami sighed casually, as if by accident.
"I always feel like I'm missing something in my training. If only I had dōjutsu bloodlines like the Uchiha—or the Hyūga."
Yashiro replied with arrogant confidence,
"The Hyūga? When it comes to dōjutsu bloodlines, the Uchiha rank second—and no one dares claim first!"
Seizing the moment, Yami invited him,
"I've long heard that the Uchiha excel in taijutsu. Would you be willing to give me some pointers, Senior Yashiro?"
Perhaps it was Yami's sincerity, or perhaps curiosity about this rising young shinobi, but after a brief pause, Yashiro nodded.
They went together to the training grounds. The moment warm-ups ended, a flash of crimson crossed Yashiro's eyes—the three-tomoe Sharingan activated as he habitually scanned the surroundings.
Suddenly, his gaze locked onto an apparently empty corner. He barked coldly,
"You skulking rat—come out!"
Yami laughed inwardly, though he feigned surprise. Under the Sharingan's scrutiny, the Root operative had nowhere to hide and was forced into the open.
"Root?" Yashiro frowned, his tone carrying that unmistakable Uchiha arrogance and displeasure.
"Since when has Root stretched its hands so far as to spy on Konoha shinobi training in public grounds?"
Yami spoke up at just the right moment, his voice tinged with perfectly measured helplessness.
"Senior Yashiro… this one says he's carrying out a 'security mission.'"
"A security mission?" Yashiro's voice turned icy.
"In the heart of Konoha, at a public training ground—monitoring a chūnin who's just earned merits and promotion?"
His Sharingan bore into the Root operative.
"I'd very much like to ask Elder Danzō what kind of 'security' this is."
Facing the pressure of an Uchiha jōnin and the unblinking gaze of the Sharingan, the Root operative stiffened, speechless.
Standing behind Yashiro, Yami watched the scene unfold exactly as expected. He knew the "borrowed blade" had struck true—cleanly cleaving into Danzō's scheme.