The echo of tragedy still pulsed in my mind.
If Konoha did this to Sakumo... what will they do to my father? To all of us?
Tekka stared at the freshly read page. His face was pure shock.
"It was Danzō... Danzō is responsible for the fall... and for Sakumo's death. Damn him!"
With trembling hands, he turned to the next page and resumed reading.
January 5th
The void consumed me once more.
A cutting cold, almost spiritual, ran through me like a blade without form. My eyes opened—or perhaps they had never closed. In these visions, I never knew. I was there, suspended like a specter over a ravine in Kusagakure.
The sky bled crimson, as if the sun itself had been wounded. Below, the river roared, its murky waters battering the pillars of Kannabi Bridge. The stone-and-wood structure groaned under the weight of enemy carts. Iwa-nin crossed it like ants in a blind march, oblivious to impending doom. I knew this place—recognized it from lessons about the Third War.
In the dense thicket, four figures emerged like silent shadows. At the forefront was Minato Namikaze—Konoha's Yellow Flash—leading with deadly serenity. His golden hair gleamed even in the gloom.
Behind him, three young shinobi followed. One bore Sakumo Hatake's features—it was Kakashi, his son. Young, glacial, eyes like steel. He wielded a white tantō with lethal precision. Beside him, Obito Uchiha: a stubborn grin behind orange glasses, ironically fragile for a Sharingan clansman. He stumbled over roots, grumbling about delays. And there was Rin Nohara, her hands careful but gaze steady, adjusting medical supplies with a healer's lightness and a warrior's readiness.
"Team Minato..." I whispered. But my voice vanished in the wind. I was just a spectator. I always was.
The mission was clear. Minato would draw Iwa's main forces while the genin destroyed the bridge with explosives. The scent of moss and resin saturated the air. The forest's humidity mingled with the promise of rain. Every step was measured. They avoided dry branches, explosive tags hidden beneath the earth.
Kakashi led the way, clearing a path with his tantō. Obito muttered under his breath:
"Why does he always take point?"
Rin smiled, trying to mediate between them.
Then—chaos.
An Iwa-nin emerged from shadows, cloaked in camouflage jutsu. His blade aimed for Rin. Kakashi reacted instantly—but not fast enough. The sword slashed his shoulder. Blood sprayed the damp leaves. Obito screamed, hurled kunai at the attacker, but the enemy had already achieved his goal: he took Rin. And vanished.
"No, no, no..." I tried to scream. But my voice was just an echo within the dream.
Kakashi, wounded, insisted:
"The mission comes first. Destroying the bridge is essential!"
Obito, furious, countered:
"Those who abandon friends are worse than trash!"
And he ran. Alone, into the forest's heart, after Rin. Kakashi stayed behind, torn between duty and guilt.
The scene shattered. I was dragged to the cavern where Obito's fate would be sealed.
The air was thick, reeking of wet stone and fear. Obito fought like a true Uchiha—perhaps as none had since the Warring States Era. But a boulder fell. Crushed half his body. Rin, now free, wept beside him. Kakashi arrived too late, and the tears he withheld hurt more than his shoulder wound.
With his last breath, Obito gave Kakashi his Sharingan.
"Protect her... and Konoha."
The cave collapsed. I wanted to scream. To change everything. But the dream wouldn't obey.
The scene shifted. Konoha appeared before me—not as the village of hope it claimed to be. The streets were shadowed. Whispers from alleyways cut like knives:
"Team Minato failed."
"Obito died for nothing."
"Kakashi hesitated."
"Minato can't control his genin."
In the Council, Danzō Shimura spoke like an ancestral judge. His cane struck the floor like a gavel:
"The bridge fell, but at the cost of an Uchiha and Konoha's dignity. Minato is unfit to lead."
Shadow by shadow, Root agents spread lies. False reports surfaced, branding Kakashi a coward, Obito insubordinate, Rin deadweight.
A bribed jōnin murmured:
"If Minato can't handle three children, how can he be Hokage?"
Hiruzen Sarutobi remained silent. His trembling hands clutched his pipe like a final certainty.
"They destroyed the bridge..." he said, voice faltering.
"And lost the village's trust," Danzō finished, icy smile intact.
Rin, shattered, stayed silent. Kakashi, now with another's eye, walked streets under scornful gazes. Spirit wounded, transformed from hero to pariah.
And Root won. Turned deeds into failures. Heroes into forgotten legends.
I awoke in the Valley of Hell. Sweat slicked my skin. My heart hammered.
If Danzō destroyed Team Minato's honor with one mistake... what will he do to my father? My mother? Me?
Kannabi Bridge's roar still echoed in my mind—a dark omen of a shinobi's price.
Tekka closed the diary carefully, as if cradling a relic of pain.
"It can't be..." he murmured, face pale.
If Danzō truly manipulates shadows, if he twists history and honor so easily... Why has no one stopped him? Why does the Hokage stay silent?
Disbelieving, he read on.
The world returned in fragments, shattered like broken glass.
Iwagakure — The Tsuchikage's Council
I stood in a fortress of stone and iron, its walls glittering with mineral veins under flickering torches. The air stank of ancient dust and burnt clay, scratching my throat. Hammer strikes and forge fires echoed like war's prelude.
At the center, a cracked stone table held worn maps. One marked Uzushiogakure in red. The Second Tsuchikage—gaunt, hollow-eyed, skin pale as ash—stared down five ministers in heavy robes. Iwa headbands gleamed like predators' eyes.
"The Uzumaki are Konoha's strength," said the Tsuchikage. "Their fuinjutsu neutralizes our greatest weapons. Should they ally with the Senju, we're lost."
A withered finger traced Uzushiogakure's coastline.
"But if the village falls, Konoha loses its shield."
A minister hesitated, clutching a scroll.
"Attacking Uzushiogakure will draw the Leaf's fury. Reinforcements will come—"
The Tsuchikage slammed his fist.
"Konoha will be occupied. Shimura guaranteed it. He sows discord in the Leaf. We eliminate the Uzumaki before they realize."
Another advisor muttered:
"The Uzumaki-Senju alliance is a monster. Cut off one head before both devour us."
They're condemning my family... The nightmare dissolved.
Kirigakure — The Mizukage's Pact
Darkness deepened. I awoke in a chamber of black coral, moisture dripping from walls, green light reflecting in stagnant puddles. It reeked of salt and rotting seaweed.
The Second Mizukage stood before a shell-table, flanked by three stained-cloaked counselors. At the center, a map of Uzushiogakure pinned by curved daggers.
"The Uzumaki uphold Konoha's supremacy," said the Mizukage. "Their seals imprison our bijū. Their jutsu dismantle our foundations."
He drove a dagger into the map's heart.
"But Konoha will burn. Shimura promised a false Kumo attack. Hiruzen will be blind."
A scar-necked counselor whispered:
"If Uzushiogakure resists, Kiri will be devoured."
Monsters... My scream was swallowed by mist.