A moment later, Koharu spoke up, brow furrowed. "But the boy's only a chunin. And he's ten. Letting a ten-year-old chunin lecture a room full of chunin, special jonin, and full jonin… is that really appropriate? There's no precedent in the village. How do you think the senior jonin will take it? Sitting there while some kid barely out of the academy tells them how the world works?"
"Then promote him to special jonin."
Danzo didn't hesitate.
The words hit the room like a thrown kunai. Koharu froze mid-sentence. Homura's eyebrows shot up. Even Hiruzen's pipe paused halfway to his mouth.
Danzo kept going, voice flat and cold. "You all know what this brat is capable of. His strength cleared jonin level a long time ago. Put him in a room with the rest of the jonin and tell me who's honestly going to say he doesn't measure up. How many of them could actually beat him?"
He gestured at the reports on the table. "And his strategic sense? These three documents are sitting right here. How many jonin in this village could've written anything like them? How many of them, at ten years old, saw the shape of the coming war clearer than the rest of us who've been alive for decades?"
"None. Not a single one."
Danzo's gaze swept across the other three. "All he's missing is time in grade and a stack of completed missions. In times like these, that doesn't mean shit. Rules are made by people. When the situation is extraordinary, you do what's necessary."
Koharu stayed quiet. She couldn't argue the facts. Shinichi's power had already left most jonin in the dust — the arena fight a month ago was still the talk of the village. His insight in these reports was on another level entirely.
Still, she shook her head. "I understand what you're saying, Danzo. The boy's strength is real. His eye for the bigger picture is frightening. But a ten-year-old special jonin… Leaf has never done that. It's too fast. The pressure on him would be enormous. And the older jonin — the ones who spent fifteen, twenty years grinding their way up — they're going to feel some kind of way about it."
"Feel some kind of way?" Danzo's voice turned sharp. "You mean they'll complain? They'll get their feelings hurt? They'll resent a kid who's already better than they ever were?"
He let out a short, ugly laugh. "Let them. Those people spent decades climbing the ladder because they lacked talent, lacked effort, or lacked the brains to see further than the next mission. Now a ten-year-old is standing in front of them showing them what real talent and real vision actually look like. They should be ashamed. They should be asking themselves what the hell they've been doing with their lives instead of whining about why some kid gets promoted faster than they did."
The room went dead silent.
Koharu and Homura stared at Danzo like he'd been replaced by someone else overnight. Yesterday he'd torn Shinichi's reports apart, calling them alarmist garbage from an arrogant child. Today he was demanding the boy be fast-tracked to special jonin and handed a lecture hall full of the village's veterans.
Homura finally found his voice. "Danzo… you're serious about this?"
"I don't waste time on jokes," Danzo said coldly. He turned to Hiruzen. "What do you think, Hiruzen?"
Hiruzen took a slow drag from his pipe, then exhaled. "We'll promote him to special jonin. Use the same criteria we apply to the strategy division's special jonin."
Koharu blinked, then nodded. Special jonin made sense. It was a targeted rank — recognition that someone had reached jonin level in one specific area without meeting the full requirements across the board. Shinichi's strategic analysis alone already outclassed most of the strategy team. That was more than enough justification, and it wouldn't look like they were handing out full jonin ranks to children.
Homura pushed his glasses up. "That's measured. It acknowledges his contribution without forcing the issue. We can frame it cleanly: the boy provided critical strategic intelligence that benefits the entire village. Promotion for merit. No one can argue with that."
Koharu agreed. "Ten years old is still extremely young for even special jonin, but it's far more acceptable than jumping him straight to full jonin."
Danzo didn't object. He simply stayed quiet, accepting the compromise.
Hiruzen tapped ash from his pipe. "As for the reports — we hold the first two for now. The third one goes out, but not to everyone. It stays within special jonin, full jonin, and a handful of the most senior chunin captains. Enough people to start preparing mentally, but not so many that sensitive details spread too far."
Koharu nodded.
Hiruzen looked at her. "And the lecture — arrange it. Shinichi wrote the report. No one understands the logic inside it better than he does. Have him walk them through it point by point. You handle the scheduling."
Koharu paused for half a second, then nodded again. "Understood. We'll give them a few days to read it first, then hold the session in the main conference hall. It seats three thousand. That should be enough."
Hiruzen took another slow pull from his pipe. "Good. Once the lecture is done, I'll address the village myself and formally declare Konoha in a state of war."
Koharu's brow creased. "Declaring wartime status so soon? Sand hasn't moved yet. If we announce it first—"
"We're trusting the kid's analysis," Hiruzen cut in. "If we believe it, we act on it. Whether we say it ten days early or ten days late won't change when the fighting starts. But it will give the villagers time to understand what's coming."
Koharu was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "You're right. Better to prepare than be caught scrambling."
"Start thinking about what you'll say," Hiruzen added. "Both of you."
Koharu and Homura nodded.
Then Danzo spoke again, voice flat.
"I'll speak as well."
All three of them turned to look at him.
Danzo. Volunteering to address the village publicly. The man who had spent decades avoiding the spotlight, who rarely even showed his face outside Root's shadows.
The room stayed silent for several long seconds.
Hiruzen finally gave a slow nod. "All right. Start preparing, Danzo."
For the first time in Konoha's history, Shimura Danzo would speak to the village in public.
Outside the window, the sunlight was unchanged.
But inside, the largest and strangest lecture in Leaf's history had just been decided.
The lecturer: Shinichi Higashino. Ten years old. Konoha's brightest rising star. The youngest special jonin the village had ever promoted.
The audience: three thousand people — chunin captains, special jonin, full jonin, clan heads, and even members of the Sannin.