"Were the Hamura clan also a threat?" she demanded to know.
Hiruzen faltered under her scrutiny, a flicker of pain crossing his weathered face. The Hamura clan, a dark stain on the village's history, was a secret burdened by the older generation. He knew Yuki wouldn't let it go.
Mentioning the Hamura clan sent a chill through the room, laden with the weight of unspoken history. Hiruzen's hands trembled slightly, a rare display of vulnerability from the usually stoic Hokage.
Undeterred, Yuki pressed on, her accusations cutting deep, before stating, "While the younger generation may be unaware, the older generation remembers. They know how the Hamura clan was systematically eradicated in the shadows by the very group you defend. You are complicit in their crimes, a passive accomplice who turned a blind eye."
Hiruzen gripped the arms of his chair, the guilt he had carried for years threatening to overflow. "I lacked concrete proof," he defended himself weakly. "There was nothing I could do."
Dismissing his defence, Yuki erupted in anger, her voice laced with frustration.
"To hell with proof!" Yuki erupted, her voice laced with frustration that had festered for years. "You did not even confront them, or more likely, you didn't want to confront your friend. You lacked the resolve to stand up for them and to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. While the Hamura clan perished unnoticed, their children were absorbed into the ranks of Root, their lives forever tied to a dark purpose."
She leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "You sat comfortably in your Hokage seat, supposed protector of the Leaf Village, turning a blind eye to the darkness festering within. How convenient for you and your friend, the architect of this twisted system."
Hiruzen's face contorted with a mix of shame and anguish. "Yuki, please... You don't know the pressure, the impossible choices—"
"Choices?" Yuki interrupted, her voice sharp. "You chose inaction. You chose to let an entire clan disappear. Those were your choices, Hiruzen."
Shamefaced, the elderly Hokage bowed his head in shame. "So much for the Hokage, the protector of the Leaf Village," Yuki added, her voice laced with bitter disappointment.
Hiruzen sat in uneasy silence, grappling with the weight of his inaction, unable to offer a rebuttal after her accusations. Hiruzen remained silent, the weight of his inaction a heavy burden on his shoulders.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unresolved tension and decades of unspoken grievances.
Finally, Yuki broke the tense silence between them. "I will ask again, Hiruzen," she said, her tone firm. "Why are you here?"
"And this time," she added, her voice hardening, "no lies."
Hiruzen sighed, the sound heavy with a palpable sense of resignation. "I came to discuss the boy named Ryu," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.
Yuki's anger flared anew, a spark igniting in her eyes. "Don't," she interjected, her voice taut with barely contained emotion. "I don't even want to hear that name from you."
She leaned forward, her gaze laser-focused on the Hokage. "You stood and did nothing when Ryu Senju met his untimely demise," she warned, her voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Stay away from this one."
"Yuki," he began, his voice hoarse with emotion, "I never meant for—"
"Your intentions don't matter," Yuki cut him off. "Your actions, or lack thereof, do."
Hiruzen flinched, the accusation hitting a raw nerve. He knew Yuki spoke the truth, a truth that had haunted him since the death of Ryu Senju. But the weight of the village's safety and the constant tightrope walk between peace and conflict had forced him into difficult decisions.
She looked at him and said, "If you don't stay away from him, I promise the ANBU guards hiding won't be able to save you from me."
A tremor of fear passed through the ANBU guards stationed outside, their keen senses picking up the shift in Yuki's usually calm demeanour. They tightened their grips on their weapons, prepared to intervene if necessary.
Despite her threats, Hiruzen remained unfazed. His weathered face, etched with the lines of a life burdened by difficult choices, held a quiet resolve.
"He is related to Ryu Senju," he stated plainly. He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in before adding, "He is his grandson."
Yuki recoiled abruptly. A flicker of something akin to despair crossed her face, quickly replaced by a renewed wave of protectiveness. "Didn't I explicitly ask you to keep his name out of your mouth?" she reiterated, her voice tinged with exasperation.
"His legacy," Yuki interrupted, "is not yours to define or use. It belongs to his grandson and to those who truly cared for him."
Hiruzen looked at her steadily. "Why are you so protective of someone who is going to die soon?" he queried, his voice laced with a hint of pragmatism. "You know I will do nothing to him. He is of no use to the village in his current condition. That is why Danzo also left him alone."
Hiruzen probed her, questioning the depth of her protectiveness towards someone who appeared to be running out of time.
Yuki's response was swift and sharp, slicing through the Hokage's justifications with precision, leaving his defences weakened. "Do you weigh the worth of your children solely by their utility, Hiruzen?" she challenged, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "Is that the legacy you wish to leave behind?"
Hiruzen's eyes widened, the impact of her words visible on his face. For a moment, he saw not Yuki, but a reflection of his younger self, idealistic and uncompromising. The contrast with his current self was stark and unsettling.
"You always had an eye for talent when it came to medical ninjas," he said after a moment, attempting to shift the focus. "When you took in Tsunade for an apprentice, I knew it," he confessed, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Even though I failed to see her potential, you did."
Hiruzen acknowledged her discerning eye for talent within the medical ninja realm, reminiscing about his student, whom she has also taught medical ninjutsu.
"Tsunade," Yuki said, her voice softening slightly at the memory. "She had a fire in her, a determination to heal and protect. Something you seem to have forgotten, Hiruzen."
"Perhaps," Hiruzen continued, his gaze holding hers, "perhaps you too see potential in the boy. And perhaps you don't believe the boy is going to die. Perhaps you believe the experiments the boy is conducting will be successful. He will pull through and save himself from the clutches of fate."
Yuki stared back at him, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Finally, she said, her voice a mere whisper, "I am telling you again, Hiruzen. Stay away from the boy."
Hiruzen stood up and began to walk away, but after a few steps, he stopped and said, "I failed his grandfather," in a regretful, low voice.
"That regret, I will take it to my grave." He paused at the doorway, casting a final glance at Yuki.
"But," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "I will not fail his grandson."
Yuki's eyes flashed with a mix of emotions—anger, fear, and a hint of something that might have been hope. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Hiruzen," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... don't let history repeat itself."
With those words, the Hokage turned and left, leaving Yuki alone in her office.
/Flashback End/
Hiruzen was alone in his office, remembering his words to Yuki. He has been briefed on Ryu's progress recently. He opened the drawer of his desk, took out a smokepipe, and burnt it.
The familiar scent of tobacco filled the air, a comforting ritual that had seen him through countless difficult decisions. As he puffed on his pipe, Hiruzen's gaze drifted to the portraits of the previous Hokages on the wall. Their stern faces seemed to watch him, judging his every move.
"What would you have done?" he murmured to the silent portraits. "How do we protect the village without losing our humanity in the process?"
He puffed some smoke and said, "I hope you succeed, boy."
In those fleeting slivers, Hiruzen saw the faces of people he had let down, including Ryu Senju, members of the Hamura clan, and innumerable others.
He softly prayed, "For all of our sakes, may you succeed where we failed. May you discover a road to heal not only yourself, but perhaps all of us."