The Undesired Second Chance

Chapter 51: A Serpent's Bargain

Uchiha Fugaku handed over his scroll, everything perfectly in order. The size, the color, the end cap: it was all exactly the way it would have looked for a normal report. Except, as the Hokage saw once it was unrolled, this scroll had a carefully drawn storage seal overlaying the expected text. Single-use: once emptied, the ink would flake away without a trace left behind on the report.

"Hokage-sama," he said, without so much as a glance toward any exit, "I would request that you read through all of the relevant information before any further discussion."

Fugaku had been told enough, had seen enough, to guess at the rot they were facing. He may not know exactly what was written into the second scroll tucked in his storage seal, but he knew how to look underneath. Between the lines. From Orochimaru's hands, to Namikaze, to Uzumaki, to him: it had looked like a thin scroll, but it was weighted with conspiracy.

The Hokage needed to read it—beyond that, beyond his title, Sarutobi Hiruzen needed to read it—and he needed an alibi for the time he would spend going through it. A report from a clan head would be good cover: one of many reasons, no doubt, that Namikaze put this on him.

He couldn't leave halfway.

For a moment, the Hokage simply watched him. Considering. The broad hat shaded his eyes, darkening his expression. Then his countenance shifted—resigned, in a way that made the decoy scroll look heavy in his hands.

"I'm not going to like this, am I."

Given his understanding of the situation, Fugaku had to nod; he didn't like it much himself, and that scroll probably had more than bare speculation inside.

"It's going to be a lot of paperwork," he replied, aloud, "but that is the nature of such affairs."

The Hokage opened the storage seal with a small tap—finger and chakra both—and caught the deceptively thin scroll that dropped out. And then he... held it. Felt it.

Recognized something of it.

Whether some faint chakra trace, the material, the brushwork of the seal on its side. A lock, keyed just for him. After setting a hand on the seal keeping the scroll shut, it unfurled with a hiss of chakra smoke.

As Fugaku couldn't see the contents from his current angle, he instead watched for any reactions—his eyes spiraled red, keen on every move. It didn't hurt to have his defenses up either, shielded against any trickery that might have been snuck in.

Of course, given the elder man's ability as a shinobi—let alone the political experience gained simply by being Hokage—Fugaku didn't really think he'd get much from his expressions. One cannot reach that level without being able to veil reactions.

And yet—

A flinch. The slightest twitch, an unseen blow landing, before all reactions were locked down. In a obvious way, lacking the subtle deception put on with properly managed expressions. There were no other signs to read, but the fact that there were no other signs was a sign in and of itself.

A minute passed in tense, still silence.

Another.

Another.

Reading on, with no further unsteady pauses. Regardless of whatever might be written on that heavy, thin scroll.

Then, finally, finished.

The Hokage—No. Sarutobi Hiruzen sat back in his chair. It was a shift: a change in the line of the older man's shoulders, a personal weight pressing down heavier than his position ever could.