Sarutobi Hiruzen was furious.
The man before him—Yoru Uchiha—had spat on the Hokage's authority.
First, executing Konoha civilians. Then, slaughtering a Sarutobi clansman. And now, this—killing his own nephew, right after Hiruzen had personally warned him and sent Shisui to rein him in!
Instead of backing down, Yoru had only grown more ruthless.
As the Third Hokage arrived, the crowd fell silent, awaiting his judgment.
To most of Konoha, Hiruzen was a benevolent leader—fair, approachable, just.
Even now, they trusted him to deliver justice.
Even if the dead man was his own kin.
Unconsciously, the villagers had already sided with Yoru.
Because in their hearts, they knew—
They were the murdered girl's family. Not Sarutobi Jirō.
Sarutobi Hideo—Jirō's father—staggered forward, grief and rage warring in his voice.
"Lord Hokage!"
"Yoru Uchiha murdered my son in cold blood! Everyone saw it!"
"Please… grant our clan justice!"
Tears streamed down his face.
"My eldest died defending this village… Now my only remaining son—!"
Even the hardened onlookers softened. A monster, yes—but still a father.
Yoru's expression didn't flicker.
Then, his subordinates—Aoki and Yamakaze—arrived, paling at the scene.
"Aoki, alert Lord Fugaku—now!"
"On it!"
Aoki bolted toward the Uchiha compound.
Hiruzen stepped forward, pipe clenched tight.
"Yoru." His voice trembled—not with age, but with lethal restraint. "Explain."
The air itself seemed to bend under his chakra.
Yoru didn't flinch. "Ask them."
He pointed to the girl's family.
Hiruzen inhaled sharply, then knelt beside the bloodied grandmother.
"Tell me what happened."
Between sobs, the truth spilled out.
Hiruzen's face darkened.
"Hideo… is this true?"
Hideo's fists shook. "Y-Yes, but Jirō didn't mean—!"
"Not that." Hiruzen's voice turned icy. "Did you protect him?"
Hideo's breath hitched. "I—!"
"You disgrace the Sarutobi name!" Hiruzen roared. "As clan head, your duty was to punish him harsher! Instead, you spat on Konoha's trust!"
The crowd murmured in awe.
This was their Hokage—unflinching, righteous!
Yoru remained silent.
Hiruzen turned to the grieving family, sighing.
"Yoru has already delivered justice."
"As for Hideo…"
"He is stripped of his title as Sarutobi head."
"Further punishment will follow."
Hideo collapsed, white as death.
The family kowtowed, weeping. "Thank you, Lord Hokage!"
Hiruzen shook his head. "Do not thank me. As Jirō's uncle, his sins are mine to bear."
"Thank Yoru."
They scrambled toward Yoru, foreheads pressed to dirt.
"Thank you, Lord Yoru!"
Yoru gave a curt nod.
His eyes met Hiruzen's—two masks of grief, one far more practiced.
The Hokage clasped Yoru's shoulder, grip just shy of crushing.
"Well done, Yoru."
"Very well done."
Yoru smiled thinly. "I'll strive to meet your expectations."
For a split second, Hiruzen's gaze burned—then softened into paternal pride.
"Good. Good."
He yanked Hideo away, leaving Jirō's corpse behind.
The crowd bowed. "Lord Hokage is just!"
"He treats us all as family!"
Yoru listened, a flicker of bitterness crossing his face—
Until the grandmother grabbed his sleeve.
"Lord Yoru…" Her voice was steel wrapped in tears. **"This village is rotten. But you—"**
"Your blade never dulls."
Yoru froze.
He'd never sought gratitude. Never cared for praise.
But her words…
Meant something.
He squeezed her hand, then vanished into the crowd.
Behind him, the old woman spat on Jirō's corpse.