The sliding door slammed open violently, revealing two ANBU agents dressed in black. Their masks, adorned with animal motifs, made their faces impenetrable.
"Shikai Nara, you must come with us," they said.
Izumi sprang to her feet, placing her frail body between the ANBU and Shikai.
"No! You can't do this! He has just woken up! Look at him!" she cried, her voice torn with indignation.
One of the ANBU replied in a calm but authoritative tone, "It is the will of the Sandaime Hokage. Any resistance is futile. Step aside."
They approached Shikai, who was still too weak to resist. One of the agents carefully, yet brusquely, lifted him.
"Wait... Where are you taking me?" Shikai asked, his voice hoarse, his eyelids heavy.
The ANBU remained silent, carrying him out of the room.
Izumi, frozen in shock, watched the scene with horror.
"You can't do this!" she screamed, her face contorted with fear and despair.
The ANBU said nothing. As they crossed the threshold, Shikai turned his weary gaze towards Izumi one last time.
The door closed behind them, leaving Izumi alone in the room, her tears silently falling on the polished wooden floor.
***
Izumi stood motionless for a moment after the abrupt departure of the ANBU. Her heart raced, and her mind refused to accept what she had just witnessed. She clenched her fists. She had no idea where Shikai was being taken, but she knew she couldn't just stand there and do nothing.
She burst out of the room, pushing past the jônin who still guarded the door. Her breath came in rapid gasps, her thoughts swirling in a chaos of emotions.
"Shikaku-sama will know what to do," she murmured to herself, her legs already in motion.
She ran through the hospital corridors, nearly colliding with several nurses, and soon found herself outside, facing a Konoha still scarred by the tragedy of the Kyûbi attack.
The village had not yet regained its former splendor. The once-bustling streets were cluttered with debris and construction materials. Everywhere, ninjas, civilians, and workers bustled about. Improvised scaffolding surrounded many damaged buildings. The sound of hammers, saws, and voices echoed through the air.
Izumi ran through the alleys, her heart heavy as she witnessed the aftermath of the attack. At every turn, painful memories assailed her: sad faces still weeping for their lost loved ones, even after all this time, and children playing among the rubble as if it were the only reality they knew.
The Hokage Monument, carved into the mountain overlooking Konoha, still bore the scars of the confrontation. Half of the Yondaime's face was partially destroyed, a symbolic image of the loss the village had suffered.
At the center of Konoha, near the training grounds, was a space transformed into a memorial site. Lanterns floated in the air, illuminating photos and names engraved on wooden tablets. Izumi averted her eyes, unable to bear the additional pain it evoked within her.
Stores were attempting to reopen, although their signs were often damaged or missing. The residents were doing their best to return to normal life, but the atmosphere remained heavy.
Izumi quickened her pace. She had no time to spare contemplating the damage.
Finally, she reached the boundaries of the Nara estate, a peaceful area. Unlike the chaos at the village center, this place seemed untouched.
Izumi passed through the main entrance and made her way towards the head of the clan's house.
...
In the main pavilion of the estate, Shikaku Nara sat on a wooden veranda, holding a glass of sake in one hand and a scroll in the other. He had a nonchalant air, although his eyes betrayed the accumulated fatigue of his responsibilities as clan leader and Konoha's strategist.
Across from him, Tsunade Senju, on a temporary visit, also sipped on a glass of sake. She wore her usual green attire, and her expression vacillated between concern and irritation.
The soft light of the late afternoon filtered through the thin walls, creating an almost peaceful ambiance, although the conversation was far from it.
Shikaku, ever calm and analytical, held his glass of sake firmly. He observed Tsunade out of the corner of his eye, noting her dark circles and visibly exhausted appearance. She was no longer the legendary confident Sannin but a woman at her wit's end, worn down by recent events.
"What happened that day remains unclear," Shikaku began, breaking the silence. "Just like Kushina, I was unconscious after the attack. Many things still elude me. But there are rumors... whispers among the high-ranking officials."
Tsunade raised an eyebrow, holding her glass of sake tightly, ready to take another sip.
"Rumors?" she asked sharply.
Shikaku nodded.
"Yes. About Shikai. The high-ranking officials don't appreciate his closeness with the Uchiha. And to make matters worse, he bears unknown seals..."
He paused, searching for the right words.
"A kind of fuinjutsu. Some see it as a sign of a forbidden technique or an anomaly. It stirs their mistrust, and you know as well as I do that with Danzô lurking in the shadows, nothing good will come of this situation."
Tsunade clenched her fist, her glass trembling slightly. She drained the contents in one go, clearly irritated.
"That old rat Danzô... he complicates everything, as always. Hiruzen should put him in his place."
Shikaku sighed, setting down his glass.
"Easier said than done, Tsunade. Hiruzen has many responsibilities on his shoulders. Between the village's reconstruction and the growing tensions, he can't handle everything."
Tsunade ran her hand through her hair, her tired eyes squinting.
"That's no excuse. Shikai is in danger while he's bedridden, and if Danzô starts seeing him as a threat, he could disappear from one day to the next."
Before Shikaku could respond, a servant entered the room, carrying a tray of tea.
"Shikaku-sama, Tsunade-sama... an Uchiha wishes to speak with you."