Chapter 170: A Policy of Dignity
A few days later, in the sparsest sector of Konohagakure (Konoha, Village Hidden in the Leaves), stood the orphanage.
The sunlight was bright, almost cheerful, spilling across the packed-dirt yard. It did its best to dispel the inherent chill of the old, gray, box-like building, but it couldn't quite erase the shadows that clung to the corners or the faint smell of bleach and old plaster.
In the yard, the sounds of children laughing and shouting echoed—a thin but persistent veneer of joy.
When Uchiha Akira's figure appeared at the worn wooden gate, all the noise ceased. It didn't just quiet down; it was cut off as if by a knife.
The children, running and playing just a second before, froze. Their games were forgotten. Dozens of small faces turned, their eyes wide with a mixture of intense curiosity and a deep, instinctual fear.
They stared at the man who had suddenly appeared. He wore the formal white and red robes of the Hokage, the Uchiha fan displayed proudly on his back. His aura was so powerful, so immense and controlled, that they dared not look directly at him for long. It was like staring into the sun.
Yakushi Nonō had already been informed of the impending visit. She came out quickly, wiping her hands on her apron, leading a few of the older, braver children.
She was dressed in simple, practical civilian clothes, her light brown hair meticulously coiled at the back of her head. A gentle, practiced smile graced her face—a mask she had perfected long ago.
But in the depths of her eyes, there was an undisguised, profound reverence... and a matching, profound fear.
"Lord Fifth Hokage," Yakushi Nonō bowed deeply, her form perfect. "Welcome to the Konohagakure Orphanage."
The children behind her, mimicking her, awkwardly bent at the waist, their movements clumsy and sudden.
"No need for formalities," Uchiha Akira said. His voice was not warm, but it wasn't cold; it was neutral, matter-of-fact.
He did not smile back.
Uchiha Akira's gaze swept over the children before him. He saw everything in a single, comprehensive glance.
Most of them were sallow-skinned and thin, their small frames swimming in faded, threadbare clothes that had been patched and re-patched countless times. Their eyes, though, were sharp—the sharp, watchful eyes of those who learn early that they have nothing.
These were the orphans of war. The cast-offs. The living receipts of the village's "victories."
They were the truest reflection of this cruel, unforgiving Shinobi world.
Uchiha Akira's gaze finally landed on one specific child, half-hidden by Nonō's legs. A silver-haired boy wearing round, taped-together glasses, who looked quiet and well-behaved.
Yakushi Kabuto.
At this moment, Kabuto was hiding behind Yakushi Nonō, but not in the cowering way the others were. He was cautiously peeking out half his head, observing. He was analyzing Uchiha Akira.
In his eyes, there was none of the simple fear seen in the other children. Instead, there was an intense, almost cold, curiosity. A longing.
[Is this… the new Hokage-sama? The one who... removed him?] Kabuto's mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts, processing the man's posture, his chakra, his lack of guards.
Uchiha Akira held the boy's analytical gaze for a fraction of a second, an unspoken, imperceptible acknowledgment, before withdrawing his gaze.
He looked back to Yakushi Nonō.
"Take me to your office. There are some things I need to discuss with you."
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
Yakushi Nonō did not dare to be negligent in the slightest. She turned, respectfully leading the way, her heart beginning to pound a heavy, anxious rhythm against her ribs.
The two walked one after another down the old, dim corridor of the orphanage. The smell of mildew and old wood was stronger inside.
Uchiha Akira did not speak, merely observed his surroundings with that same impassive, comprehensive gaze. The peeling paint. The cracked floorboards. The quiet, watchful children peering from doorways.
But Yakushi Nonō's heart was in her throat. The silence was deafening.
She did not know the purpose of this new Hokage's visit.
For Uchiha Akira, Yakushi Nonō's feelings were an incredibly complex, warring storm.
Gratitude, certainly. A gratitude so vast it was almost worship.
This man had personally, brutally, and publicly ended Shimura Danzō and Root (Ne, 根). He had not just cut off the head; he had ripped the organization out, root and stem, and burned the stump.
[Inorin's Note: Root (Ne), meaning "The Foundation," was a secret, black-ops subdivision of Anbu, founded and led by Shimura Danzō. It operated in total secrecy, carrying out amoral and illicit missions for what Danzō believed was the "good" of Konoha. Its members were conditioned to be emotionless tools.]
He had rescued her, and Kabuto, and countless others from that endless, lightless hell of espionage, assassination, and identity-erasing fear. This act alone was enough to make her offer him everything she had—her loyalty, her skills, her very life.
But at the same time, coiling around that gratitude, was a deep, bone-chilling fear.
How could someone who could so effortlessly eliminate a monster like Danzō be soft-hearted?
Uchiha Akira's methods, she reasoned, would only be more ruthless, more effective, and more unfathomable than Danzō's. Danzō was a creature of the shadows, a failure who craved the light.
Akira was a monster who commanded the sun.
Yakushi Nonō did not know what existence she and these children were in the eyes of this new master.
Were they tools he was here to inspect? Were they loose ends to be tied up? Or were they simply... dispensable pawns?
Her long, dark experience in Root had permanently accustomed her to speculating on the thoughts of those in power with the worst, most cynical malice. It was a survival trait.
Soon, the two arrived at the director's office.
The office was small and simple, almost painfully so. A single, small window let in a sliver of light. A desk with peeling paint and a wobbly leg. Two dilapidated wooden bookshelves, bowing under the weight of worn-out children's books and dusty ledgers.
That was all the furniture.
"Hokage-sama, please sit." Yakushi Nonō pulled out the only chair in the room, a simple wooden one that was relatively intact, for Akira.
She then stood respectfully to the side, hands clasped, her posture that of a perfect subordinate awaiting orders.
Uchiha Akira sat down, the simple chair not seeming to diminish his presence in the slightest.
"How many children are currently in the orphanage?" His voice was calm, like a merchant taking inventory.
"Rep—reporting to Hokage-sama, there are a total of one hundred twenty-seven children," Yakushi Nonō replied, her voice cautious and precise.
"Is the funding sufficient?"
A knot tightened in Nonō's stomach. The test had begun.
"The Village provides allocations every month, which barely… barely covers the expenses," her voice was a bit strained.
[The so-called "maintenance" merely means keeping the children from starving. It means a roof that mostly doesn't leak. It means no shoes. It means one set of clothes. It is the bare minimum required to say "we are not letting them die."]
"What are your plans for the future of these children?" Uchiha Akira continued, his dark eyes fixed on her.
Yakushi Nonō's body trembled slightly.
It was coming. This was it.
She knew this was the main point of today's conversation. He was here to assess the "assets."
She took a deep, silent breath, collecting her thoughts, presenting the answer she had prepared—the answer a Kage would want to hear.
"My idea is to send the children to the Ninja Academy when they reach an appropriate age."
"If… if they have the talent to become Shinobi, they can serve the Village and repay its kindness by becoming strong."
"If they don't have that talent," she continued, her voice even, "I hope... I hope they can learn a trade. Blacksmithing, textiles, farming... so they can support themselves in the future and become useful, productive members of the Village."
She spoke these words with genuine emotion. This was truly her long-standing wish. It was the most she dared to hope for.
Uchiha Akira looked at her, his expression unreadable. He nodded slowly.
"Your idea is good. It is practical. It is what has always been done."
He leaned forward slightly. "But it's not enough."
Nonō's breath caught.
"Starting next month, the orphanage's allocation will be tripled."
Boom!
The words, spoken so calmly, struck Yakushi Nonō's mind like an explosion. She physically stumbled back a step, her eyes flying wide.
"Th—triple?!"
[Did I hear that correctly? Did I misunderstand? Triple? That's... that's more than the Jōnin Council's annual stipend! That's... an impossible sum!]
She abruptly looked up, staring at Akira with an expression of complete, stunned disbelief.
"Hokage-sama, you… I… I don't understand…"
"Furthermore," Uchiha Akira interrupted her sputtering, his voice picking up a crisp, authoritative tempo, as if outlining a new policy.
"I will have the Medical Department and the Ninja Academy send specialists here regularly."
"They will conduct comprehensive talent tests for all the children. Not just for chakra."
"Those with Shinobi talent will be directly sent to the Ninja Academy. They will be taught by the best teachers, and they will enjoy the best resources. Their food, their equipment, their training tools—all of it will be provided."
Nonō's head was spinning.
"Those with medical talent," he continued, "will be sent directly to the Medical Department to train under Lady Tsunade herself."
Nonō's eyes widened further. [Tsunade-sama? He's... he's creating a new path entirely?]
"Even if they have no Ninjutsu or medical talent, it doesn't matter."
This was the sentence that made Nonō's heart stop.
"I will have the Village arrange to teach them various life skills. Scribes, accountants, merchants, builders. When they come of age, the Village will be responsible for arranging a respectable job for them."
He paused, and his final words landed with the weight of a decree.
"Allowing them to live with dignity, like any other ordinary Konoha villager."
Yakushi Nonō was completely, utterly stunned.
She stared blankly at Uchiha Akira, her body trembling slightly.
The boldest, most beautiful future she had ever dared to envision... it seemed so small, so insignificant, compared to the future this man had just laid out in a few calm sentences.
The future Uchiha Akira planned for these children was a hundred, even a thousand times better than anything she could have possibly imagined!
"Why…" The word escaped her lips as a hoarse whisper before she could stop it.
"Why is he... so good to these children?"
Yakushi Nonō did not understand. She could not understand.
In her perception, in the world forged by Danzō and Hiruzen Sarutobi, those in power were always cold and heartless.
They would only consider benefits. They would only consider value.
What value... what value could these destitute, untalented orphans possibly hold for this high and mighty, god-like Hokage?
Could it be…
A terrifying, familiar thought suddenly surged from the depths of Yakushi Nonō's heart.
[Could it be that he wants to train these children into a new generation of "Root"? A force loyal only to him? Fed, clothed, and indoctrinated from birth?]
The thought sent an icy chill through Nonō's entire body. That... that made a terrible, cold kind of sense.
But she quickly shook her head again, her mind racing.
[No... No, that's not right.]
[If Uchiha Akira truly wanted to do that, there would be no need to go through so much trouble. This is... inefficient.]
[Danzō built Root with scraps. With broken, discarded things he found in the dark. He forged them with fear and pain.]
[Akira... he is building this in the light. He is using the best resources. He's offering them choice. He's offering them... dignity.]
With Uchiha Akira's strength and his status as the man who saved them, a single command would be enough to make these children go through fire and water for him.
There would be absolutely no need to promise them such a bright, expensive future.
Then… what was it for?
Yakushi Nonō's mind was completely muddled. Her worldview was fracturing.
Looking at this unfathomable Fifth Hokage, she felt that her own small, jaded cleverness—the very cunning that had kept her alive in Root for so long—was utterly, laughably insufficient.
He wasn't Danzō. He wasn't Hiruzen.
He was something else entirely.
[Live with dignity... In his Konoha, he said... even orphans must live with dignity...]
She didn't understand him. But as she looked at the man who had just given 127 children a future... she realized, with a terrifying clarity, that it didn't matter.
She would follow him to the grave.
[Inorin's Note:
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