The words "coup d'état," like a bolt of lightning, shot through the mental link, causing the real Kenji, hiding on a hill, to stagger. He steadied himself against a tree, his breathing becoming ragged. It was no longer a suspicion. It was no longer a guess. It was a declaration of war.
His clone at the Naka Shrine knew its mission was complete. It didn't linger for a second longer. It silently retreated, melting into the night as if it had never existed. Once at a safe distance, it released the jutsu.
The entire memory, the sounds, and the images from within the sacred shrine of the Uchiha clan flooded Kenji's mind. He saw the fury in Fugaku's eyes. He heard the agreement of the elders. He felt a unified will, an arrow that had been nocked and could not be taken back.
Without a word of warning, he dashed through the night, his speed now even greater than when he was being hunted. He made for the secret rendezvous point where Minato was waiting, the Yellow Flash's face tense under the moonlight.
"What is it?" Minato asked immediately.
Kenji didn't need to say much. He just looked his senpai straight in the eyes and spoke the two words that haunted him.
"It's a coup."
Minato closed his eyes for a moment, a flash of pain crossing his perfect features. He had hoped he was wrong. But he knew Kenji would not be. "Follow me," Minato said. "Lord Hokage must be told."
They didn't go to the Hokage's office. Minato took Kenji to a more secure location, a safe room deep underground beneath the tower. The Third Hokage was already there, as if he had been expecting them. The old man looked even older, more tired.
Kenji once again recounted what his clone had seen and heard. He added nothing, made no commentary, simply delivered a cold report. But every word he spoke seemed to carve another line onto the old Hokage's brow.
When Kenji finished, a silence filled the room. The silence of an impending tragedy.
"I have failed," the Third Hokage finally said, his voice distant. "I have failed to mend the rift. I let Danzō's suspicions and Fugaku's pride push things too far."
He looked at Kenji, his eyes filled with gratitude and also sorrow. "You did everything you could, Kenji. More than the village had any right to ask of you. You brought us the truth. But sometimes, the truth is the heaviest burden of all."
"What do we do now, my lord?" Minato asked, his voice having regained its composure, but now laced with steel.
"We will try to negotiate one last time," the Third said. "But we must also prepare for the worst." He looked at Kenji. "You cannot continue your life as it was, Kenji. Fugaku suspects you. Danzō sees you as a threat. You know too much. Your very existence, right now, is a danger to what little fragile balance remains."
Kenji understood. He knew this was coming.
"I have a proposal," Minato spoke up. "We cannot let a talent like Kenji go to waste. But he cannot operate in the open. Let him become a true shadow."
The Hokage looked at Minato, then back at Kenji. He understood what his genius student meant.
"Let Kageyama Kenji 'disappear' from the village's shinobi roster," Minato continued. "He will be officially recorded as having been killed in action on another secret mission. He will no longer be a Jounin, no longer a teacher. He will become a special Anbu, answering directly only to you and me. The Hokage's Shadow."
It was the ultimate sacrifice. To give up one's identity, one's life, all recognition, to become an invisible person, a silent guardian for the village from its deepest shadows.
Kenji did not hesitate. He knelt on one knee. "I accept."
A few weeks later, the Hidden Leaf held a small memorial service for a brave Jounin who had died on a top-secret mission on the border. His name was carved onto the Memorial Stone. From that day on, Kageyama Kenji was officially dead.
But in the darkness of Konoha, a new shadow was born.
He was never seen again. But sometimes, civilians would tell tales of a dark figure gliding over the rooftops on moonless nights, silent and vigilant. Shinobi would sometimes feel a pair of eyes watching them from a distance, not with enmity, but with the watchfulness of a guardian.
Kenji became a nameless legend, a living testament to the shinobi who had fallen for the ideal of protecting the village. He watched as the Uchiha clan sank deeper into darkness. He witnessed the rise of Minato, who would soon become the Fourth Hokage. He knew the storm was not over. The coup, though delayed, still hung like a blade over the neck of the Hidden Leaf.
History would only remember the brilliant flames and the dazzling flashes. But for that light to exist, there always needed to be silent shadows. People like Kageyama Kenji, who gave up everything to become the darkness, to guard the village's flame so that it would never go out.
And his watch had only just begun.