Chapter Text
SASUKE
Sasuke knew the imperial court would take its time, perhaps too much time, to fully accept that Naruto was their absolute ruler. But to hold open court without the Emperor present? That was more than careless; it was disrespectful.
Even after more than a decade away from palace politics, Sasuke understood one thing clearly: issuing a decree or delivering a verdict was no ordinary matter. It was the highest act of imperial authority.
And though he was no stranger to Naruto’s temper, the same war had reshaped them both, Sasuke felt this anger was different. This time, he feels it truly justified.
The council chamber grew uneasy the moment Naruto entered. Noises died into silence, the tension tightening like a rope. Without any ceremony, he lowered himself onto the throne, one hand slung carelessly over the armrest, the other tapping against the carved wood. His eyes swept across the gathered ministers, bored almost, until he finally spoke.
“You were about to pass judgment without me?” His voice was low, casual even, but it cut through the hall like a blade.
The senior advisor cleared his throat, fumbling. “Your Majesty, the evidence is overwhelming. The accused has already confessed to aiding in the exchange of letters. We thought it best not to delay—”
Naruto’s gaze sharpened, his tone cool and dangerous. “Not to delay,” he echoed slowly, as if weighing the taste of the words. “Tell me, was it justice you feared delaying… or your supper? Why are you guys in such a hurry?”, Naruto smile in the most unsettling way.
A wave of unease rippled through the chamber.
Then Haruto of the Finance Bureau, broad-shouldered and confident in the way of men who lived by numbers, stepped forward. “Your Majesty, this is no game of words. If we hesitate, the people will see weakness. The throne has already lost face in the Rain affair. A swift sentence is the only way—”
Naruto leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees. His voice cut across the chamber like a blade.
“Haruto.”
Just the name. No title, no honorific. Stripped bare, the sound alone made the minister flinch. Sasuke knew the Alpha, he had joined the cabinet not long after Emperor Senju’s reign began. For Naruto to dismiss his status so casually, to call a senior member of court by nothing more than his given name, was nothing short of a deliberate insult.
“Do you know what I think of,” Naruto asked, his voice low, dangerous, “when I hear your advice?”
The chamber went silent, the weight of his words pressing down on every corner of the room.
“I think of the winter I almost died. I think of the blood soaking into the mud, of the men who carried my banner into fire while I fought to breathe another day. And then I think of you—safe here, warm, counting coins, hiding behind your ledgers. And now you dare to tell me what weakness looks like?”
The color drained from Haruto’s face.
Naruto rose slowly, every movement deliberate, coiled with restrained fury. “You call for her execution because it’s easy. Because it makes you look powerful. News flash—” his voice thundered, echoing off the stone walls, “—you are not.” His hand swept across the court, claiming every gaze. “I am the one in power!”
He stepped closer, his presence filling the space until it felt suffocating. “You haven’t even seen the treason with your own eyes.” He shook his head, a sharp, mirthless laugh escaping him. “Heh. Tell me, Haruto—if I ordered your head to roll across this floor right now, would the court still call it justice? Or would they finally see it for what it truly is...convenience?”
Haruto stumbled back, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the stone, his voice cracking under the weight of the Emperor’s glare. “Your Majesty, I… I only serve the empire’s stability—”
“Stability?” Naruto’s laugh was cold, sharp, a bark that echoed off the vaulted ceiling. “You dare speak of stability to me? Do you even know who truly keeps this palace standing? Not you. Not your ledgers. Not your endless speeches.”
He stepped forward, each word striking like a hammer. “It’s the farmers bent over their fields in the burning sun. It’s the merchants dragging their carts through mud-choked streets. It’s the soldiers sweating blood on the borders, patrolling day and night so your pockets stay full, so you may sit here, warm and fat, counting coins that aren’t even yours! All of you!”
The chamber sank into silence. Every minister kept their eyes on the floor, no one daring to breathe too loud, their silks suddenly suffocating against their skin.
Naruto’s voice dropped, but the fury in it only deepened. “Do you think I care about our precious relations with Rain? If I wanted, I could raze their walls tomorrow, scatter their armies, grind them into dust until their name vanished from the maps. But I don’t. And do you know why?” His eyes blazed as he swept the room.
“Because I see our people flourishing. Our economy rising. I want to build something from what we already hold. Yet while I fought for that, you dared cross your lines, seizing opportunity while I was gone. Like carrion birds circling a corpse.”
He turned his gaze back on Haruto, the silence stretching until it snapped. “Hear me clearly. This trial is not closed. No verdict will be spoken until I see every shred of proof with my own eyes. And if any one of you dares to leap over my authority again—” his voice thundered, shaking the very banners that hung from the walls, “—I will hang you next to the traitors you are so desperate to invent.”
The weight of his words crushed the chamber flat. Ministers bent low, foreheads to the cold stone, trembling in their robes. Not one dared look up.
Not one, except her.
Tenten, shackled but unbowed, lifted her head. Her posture was soldier-straight, her jaw set, her eyes fixed firmly forward. And in that silence, for a fleeting heartbeat, she looked freer than every trembling man in power who knelt before the throne.
“Proceed,” Naruto commanded at last. “With me present.”
The chorus of bows rippled through the chamber, relief mixing with terror, though none dared voice it.
From the shadows, Sasuke exhaled through his nose, quiet but sharp, his eyes narrowing. This—this was exactly what he had warned them of. Naruto was no longer the boy they remembered. He was something far more dangerous. And the court, in its arrogance, still hadn’t realized it was already playing with fire.
The council chamber loomed vast and merciless. Its vaulted ceiling swallowed every cough, every scrape of sandal on marble. The throne sat high upon the dais, draped in crimson banners of Fire, casting long shadows over lacquered benches lined with ministers, advisers, and clan envoys. Guards in polished armor flanked the hall, spears gleaming like threats unspoken.
At the center, the accused were dragged forward in chains. A Hyuuga servant, pale and expressionless, as though she had already surrendered to fate. Beside her, Tenten knelt, posture unbroken despite the shackles biting into her wrists. The court buzzed with whispers, sharp as knives, until the chamberlain’s staff struck the marble three times.
Silence fell.
Naruto descended back onto the throne, the crimson banners draped behind him like walls of fire. His gaze swept the chamber once, cold and steady, daring anyone to meet it. No one did. His voice came level, resonant, carrying to every corner of the vaulted hall.
“The session begins. State the charges.”
The senior minister of justice rose at once, bowing low until his silken sleeves brushed the marble floor. His voice rang with practiced authority, though his hands trembled slightly around the scroll he carried.
“Your Majesty, before you stand two accused. The first—” he gestured with a stiff hand “—a Hyuuga servant, charged with conspiring to undermine our empire’s delicate relations with the Rain and for poisoning Lord Inoichi of the Yamanaka clan, resulting in his death. The second—” his eyes flickered to the shackled woman at her side “—Head Servant Tenten, accused as the instigator of this crime. Evidence and testimony bind them together.”
The words cracked through the air like a hammer blow. The chamber stirred at once, some ministers shifted forward eagerly, scenting blood, while others avoided the Emperor’s eyes as though the very floor might swallow them if they looked too long.
“Proceed with the evidence,” Naruto commanded, his voice cutting through the whispers like a blade.
The Hyuuga servant was shoved to her knees. Shackles clinked, but she raised her head with startling calm. Her voice was flat, emptied of life.
“I confess. I poisoned Lord Yamanaka. But I did not act alone. It was Head Servant Tenten who gave the order. I was her hand.”
A ripple moved through the benches. Eyes snapped toward Tenten.
Naruto’s expression did not change. “And your proof?”
At his signal, a clerk scurried forward, scrolls clutched in his arms, and spread them on a low lacquered table before the dais. He bowed so low his forehead nearly smudged the ink.
“Your Majesty, we recovered the vial from the servant’s quarters. Three witnesses attest the poison was kept under her care. And—her own confession—naming Lady Tenten as the one who instructed her.”
Naruto’s gaze sharpened. “What else?”
The clerk swallowed hard. “We also traced payment, coin from Head Servant Tenten’s accounts transferred to the Hyuuga servant. The records are verified.”
Naruto unfolded the scrolls slowly, his eyes scanning the strokes of ink without a flicker of expression. He set them aside with careful precision, the gesture louder than any outburst. Then his gaze rose to Tenten.
“You may speak.”
Her chin lifted, unflinching, voice carrying through the chamber with soldier’s clarity. “I never gave such an order. I have served the Consort and the Crown with loyalty. I would never endanger him, nor stain the honor of this palace.”
The minister of justice seized the silence like a wolf lunging for prey. He stepped forward, bowing sharply but letting his words bite.
“Your Majesty, her denial means little. She is the Head Servant. Every servant in this palace answers to her. To claim ignorance is to confess negligence. Either she commanded it, or she permitted it.”
Naruto ignored him. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, his stare fixed on Tenten alone. His voice was measured, even, but heavy with the weight of judgment.
“Head Attendant, the servant names you. The evidence shadows your name. Tell me then, why should this court believe you above sworn testimony and proof?”
Her answer came without hesitation. “Because a servant may lie to save her own skin—or to serve another master. My loyalty has never been questioned until this moment. I have worked for the Crown as long as I can remember. I spent my youth at war in its service, for the people in this very chamber. And now, because they crave an easy scapegoat, they brand me a traitor instead of seeking the truth.”
Gasps broke through the hall. The council rippled like disturbed water, half scandalized by her defiance, half held rapt by her courage.
Naruto let silence smother them. He straightened slowly, letting the weight of his stillness grind against their nerves until even the banners seemed to quiver. Then his eyes cut to the Hyuuga servant.
“You admit to poisoning. You claim to have followed orders. Yet your eyes hold no fear. No struggle. Why do you surrender so easily? Who are you protecting?”
The servant lowered her gaze. Her voice was calm, empty as a hollow shell.
“No one. I am guilty. Nothing else matters.”
Her indifference chilled the chamber more than rage ever could. Ministers shifted uneasily; even the guards at the walls tightened their grips on their spears.
Naruto let the silence stand until it pressed against every chest. Then he rose from the throne, his voice cutting like a verdict through the heavy air.
“Hear my judgment. The servant confesses. She is guilty and will face execution. Her indifference is proof enough, her life is already forfeit.”
His words fell final, unshakable, and the chamber bowed under them like stone under the hammer.
“As for the Head Servant—” Naruto turned, his gaze locking on Tenten, sharp and unyielding, his voice rolling through the chamber like iron dragged across stone. “You hold the rank of Head Servant to my Consort. With such rank comes burden and responsibility. Whether by command or by negligence, you failed your duty. Blood was spilled in this palace under your watch. That stain cannot be ignored. It cannot go unpunished.”
Tenten’s face blanched, but she did not bow her head. Shackled though she was, her spine remained straight, her eyes steady as if daring the court to watch her break. She did not.
Naruto’s voice hardened, each word like a verdict struck upon an anvil. “You are guilty of dereliction. You are stripped of rank. You will be confined under guard until the Consort himself returns. Your fate will rest in his judgment, not in the hands of whispers. You will not be excused, but neither will I allow this court to seal your end without my command.”
The chamber rippled like a storm-tossed sea. Some ministers shifted with satisfaction, eager to see punishment delivered. Others stiffened in unease, realising the Emperor had denied them what they craved most, a swift execution, a scapegoat, a chance to drag an entire clan down with her. Naruto had condemned, yes, but in his own way. The clans were spared collective blame. The weight fell only on the shoulders of those in chains.
Naruto turned back to the throne, his eyes sweeping over them, slow as a blade drawn across a whetstone. His presence seared the room, burning through silk and armour alike.
“Mark this,” he said, his voice thundering low, dangerous. “This court will never again hand down a verdict without my will. I don’t care about the circumstances. If I, the Emperor, am not present, and you dare overrule me—” his voice rose, shaking banners, rattling the bronze lamps on their hooks, “—I will show you what power truly looks like. And if any among you think to twist this court, to fracture Fire itself, you will find me waiting. You will find me watching. And you will not like what comes next.”
The chamber froze. The silence was absolute, heavy as iron. No minister dared to breathe. No clan head dared to shift.
Only Sasuke, cloaked in the shadows of the hall, let himself release a single, quiet exhale. His eyes narrowed, sharp as a blade unsheathed. Cold. Just. And far more dangerous than the ministers yet realized.
The chamber had scarcely absorbed Naruto’s verdict when a voice rang out, sharp with grief and defiance.
“No, Your Majesty.”
Every head turned. Lady Yamanaka who have been silent until now, stepped forward from the Yamanaka bench. Her mourning robes trailed behind her like shadows, the embroidered hems whispering against the marble. Her bow was brief, almost defiant, before she lifted her face. Her eyes were rimmed red with sorrow, but behind the grief burned a fire that refused to be extinguished.
“I still seek justice.”
A hush fell across the court. To rise against an Emperor’s ruling was dangerous, even reckless. But grief made her fearless.
Naruto regarded her steadily, his expression unreadable. “Speak, Lady Yamanaka.”
“My father was no common official,” she said, her voice shaking not with weakness, but with fury. “He was head of our clan. A loyal servant to this Empire. To you, Your Majesty. To call his murder the act of one servant’s indifference, or another’s negligence, is an insult to his name. My family demands more than scraps of punishment. We demand truth. We demand justice worthy of his life.”
Naruto’s reply came like a challenge, his tone cold and sharp. “I give you justice. Is one man’s life not enough for the Yamanaka?”
Her gaze snapped toward Tenten, then to the Hyuuga servant kneeling beside her. “But Your Majesty, this is no justice. We have not cut to the root. We still do not know who truly orchestrated this crime against me, against my clan. If you end it here, you tell us our leader’s life was stolen by cowards, and that the throne itself would rather shield the guilty than uncover the rot festering in these halls.”
Her words struck like arrows, piercing the chamber. Ministers shifted, whispering behind sleeves, some emboldened by her courage. Sasuke’s eyes narrowed in the shadows. This was grief, yes—but grief sharpened into a blade.
He was impressed. Ino had always been one to work quietly. While serving the court, she rarely argued openly. She preferred soft words, warm persuasion, conversations that disarmed rather than provoked. Even when Naruto resisted her counsel, she often yielded out of fear, not conviction.
But now her grief had transfigured into something else. Her sorrow had hardened into steel.
Naruto rose, descending a single step from the throne. The crimson banners above trembled faintly as though stirred by his presence. His voice cut through the chamber, clean and merciless.
“You think I would protect the guilty?”
Ino flinched, but she did not bow her head. “I think,” she said, her voice breaking but steadying again, “that if you end it here, we will never know the true hands behind my father’s death.”
The chamber held its breath.
Naruto’s silence stretched, heavy as stone. His gaze moved slowly, over the accused in chains, over the benches of ministers shifting under his eye, and finally back to Ino. When he spoke at last, his tone was ice over fire.
“Very well. Let this court be clear: judgment is not ended. An investigation will continue, not only into the accused, but into every link of this chain. If hidden hands exist, they will be dragged into the light. And if there are ministers who thought to use this trial to bury their own deceit—” his eyes swept the benches, sharp as steel, “—you will find no shelter here.”
A ripple of unease rolled through the chamber. Those who had prayed for swift closure shifted uncomfortably; others bowed their heads in murmured assent.
Naruto turned back to Ino. His voice softened, only slightly, but the weight behind it did not lessen. “Your father’s name will not be dishonored by haste. Justice will be given, but never at the cost of truth. Can you accept that?”
Her eyes brimmed, her lips trembling as her resolve cracked for the first time. “Yes… Your Majesty.” With a sob strangled into silence, she sank to her knees and bowed deeply, her mourning robes spilling across the marble.
The chamberlain struck his staff, the sound like thunder rolling through the vaulted ceiling. The accused were led away in chains. Tenten’s face was pale, but her posture unyielding, her steps steady. The Hyuuga servant walked like a shadow, already half-dead, indifferent to her fate.
From the shadows, Sasuke exhaled, quiet but sharp. Naruto had not only contained Ino’s fury, he had bent it, sharpened it, and turned it into a weapon of his own. Now the court would bleed by its edge, every minister forced to live beneath the Emperor’s promise of investigation.
From a distance, Sasuke noticed there was still residue left in the vial the attendant had claimed as evidence. He planned to investigate it further. Naruto had already given him permission, and with the court now agreeing to a deeper inquiry, his task would be much easier.
Sasuke understood the tight spot Naruto was in. Both he and Naruto knew Tenten was innocent, but that meant nothing to the Yamanaka family and their allies. They had no idea Tenten reported directly to Naruto, not Neji.
Worse still, the court knew how close Neji was to his attendants, especially Tenten. With the evidence stacked the way it was, it would be nearly impossible to refute without strong proof. Naruto, however, wanted to show the court he was a reasonable ruler, not a tyrant who silenced opposition.
No matter how much he acted as though as if he was ready to kill anyone in his way, Naruto understood that politics was a game. To remain Emperor for the long run, military power alone wasn’t enough—he needed the trust of the noble clans too.
The alliance of the Yamanaka, Nara, Akimichi, and several others had already formed a powerful bloc. Their support proved Naruto’s claim to the throne was real, something that still unsettled the Senju, who doubted he was the true heir.
But because the clan under fire now was the Hyuuga, a clan that just as powerful as the Senju, the division inside the court was inevitable. And Naruto, more than anyone, wanted to win this game.
_____________
NEJI
The prison smelled of damp stone and iron. Torches sputtered weakly in the hall, throwing long shadows that clung to the walls like secrets. The guards stiffened when Neji appeared, bowing low as they hurried to unlock the barred door at his silent command.
Inside, Tenten sat on the bare bench, wrists unbound but dignity intact, her posture straight as if chains could never bend her. Her eyes lifted when the Consort entered, and though her face was pale from confinement, her smile was the same as always, fierce, unyielding, meant to steady him.
“Your Highness,” she greeted softly, as though the cell were a salon.
Neji crossed the threshold, every step heavy with the weight of court eyes that lingered even here. He stopped before her, voice low. “Tenten. Tell me everything.”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “There is little to tell. They came with a decree and proof already laid against me. Letters, forged orders, testimonies twisted in ways I could not refute. I was arrested before I could even understand what I was accused of.” Her jaw clenched. “It is clear what they want. If they cannot strike directly at the Hyuuga, they will drag me down as the opening move.”
Her calm words only deepened the tightness in Neji’s chest. He lowered his voice further, a rare slip of emotion breaking through. “I know you did not do this. His Majesty knows it too. I will make sure the ones behind this pay for what they have done.”
Tenten’s eyes softened. Instead of gratitude, she offered him comfort, as if he were the one behind bars. “Do not trouble yourself, my lord. Worry not. His Majesty will not allow the court to succeed in their games. I can endure what they throw at me.” Then, after a pause, her voice gentled further: “But you… your journey here must have been difficult. Have you been sleeping at all?”
The unexpected question stole his breath. For an instant, the Consort’s composure cracked; heat touched his cheeks, quickly smothered by will. “That is not important,” he said, brushing her concern aside, his tone clipped though his heart warmed treacherously at her care. “What matters is you. Tell me how they treat you.”
Her lips curved in the smallest smile, knowing she had pierced him despite his denial. She did not press. “Enough to remind me where I am. But no worse than I can withstand.”
Neji hesitated, then leaned closer, his words a breath against the silence. “Lord Uchiha suspects this was not born of I. He believes it was an attack from elsewhere.” His tone carried meaning, deliberate yet veiled.
For the briefest moment, Tenten’s eyes flicked toward the corner of the cell, where shadows pooled thick. She whispered back, lips barely moving, “Your Highness… remember, the palace walls have eyes. We cannot speak freely. Not here.”
Neji understood. Straightening, he let his expression harden into the cool mask expected of the Consort. “Very well. Endure a little longer. I will see this set right.”
Tenten bowed her head in quiet acknowledgment, no tears, no pleas. Only faith.
When Neji left the cell, the iron door groaning shut behind him, the cold stone walls seemed to press closer than before.
_____________
“Neji,” Hiashi’s tone was measured, heavy with authority. “Do you know why the clan has always been so harsh with you and Hinata?”
“No, My Lord.”
“It is because few understand the truth. In the Hyuuga clan, the omega is not weaker than the alpha. Omegas are said to carry the sacred spirit of the goddess who blessed our line. Their existence promises prosperity for us all.”
He leaned closer, his gaze sharp.
“But hear this, and do not forget it: in our world of high nobility, we cannot grip the ones we love too tightly. The tighter the hold, the easier they slip away. One mistake is enough for everything you cherish to be stripped from you.”
The silence that followed was like stone.
“The more you love, Neji, the more you must let go. If others see affection in you, they will mark it as weakness. And once they do, they will use it. Against you. Against the one you love. Until nothing remains.”
It was strange, Neji thought. Out of all the years he had endured the Hyuuga’s cold stares and silent demands, there was only one memory of Hiashi that lingered as something almost warm. A warning, disguised as wisdom.
The more you love, Neji, the more you must let go. Affection is weakness. If they see it in you, they will use it against you.
Back then, Neji had bowed his head, thinking the words cruel. Now, in this suffocating palace, with its walls made of whispers and sharpened gazes, he understood. The court was a place where nothing was sacred. Not loyalty, not blood, not even friendship.
And yet, here he was, kneeling on the cold stones of the prison, clutching the limp body of the only person who had stood by him in this forsaken palace.
“Tenten…” His voice cracked despite himself, low and trembling, though he willed it not to. “No, Tenten. No, please—you’re the only one I have in this place.”
Her skin was cold, too cold, her breath shallow and uneven. He had seen death before, on battlefields, in executions, but never had it frightened him like this. Her veins, black as spilled ink, carved themselves beneath her skin, stark against her paling flesh. Her lips were stained red, her breath catching in fits until blood flecked her chin.
“Your Highness…” she whispered, her voice frayed, every syllable costing her breath. “Please… don’t trouble yourself with a lowly servant. I beg you… I don’t want you touched by this sickness.”
Another cough tore through her, more blood spilling over her hand. Then her lashes trembled shut, her body slackening against him.
“No,” Neji breathed. A panic he had never known before tightened in his chest, burning through every wall of composure. “No, stay with me. Stay awake, Tenten!”
He lifted his head sharply, his voice slicing through the prison air. “Healers! Guards! Now! Take her—get her out of here!”
The soldiers scrambled, unnerved by the rare break in his calm tone. They moved quickly, dragging in attendants, their hands trembling as they reached for her. But Neji could not release her, not yet. His grip was fierce, his knuckles white, as though if he let go, she would vanish from this world.
It had happened too suddenly. Just last night, he had gone to her cell, speaking in cautious tones about the storm circling the court. She had warned him then, that palace walls had ears. She had smiled, steady, unflinching, as always.
That smile was gone now.
The prison stank of blood and rot. Around them, the massacre revealed itself in full: bodies collapsed against iron bars, lips foamed red, limbs twisted unnaturally. Criminals, attendants, guards, no distinction spared them. Some still writhed faintly, their veins blackened like charred wood. But most were already still, their eyes open and glassy.
Poison.
Neji’s mind sharpened even as grief threatened to unmake him. This was no sickness, no chance misfortune. This was a slaughter, slipped into food and water, timed to strike all at once. Not only to silence mouths that might speak, but to make a message. A message to the court. A message to him.
A trap.
And Tenten had been caught in it.
His chest tightened as they pulled her from his arms at last, lifting her onto a stretcher. He resisted, fingers tightening until the last possible moment, before she was carried down the corridor in a blur of white sleeves and hurried footsteps.
The silence that followed was crushing.
Neji rose, his movements rigid, his robes smeared with blood. His pale eyes swept the prison again, over the corpses, over the stench, over the iron walls that had swallowed Tenten whole. His father’s words echoed once more, like a curse in his ear:
The more you love, the more you must let go.
He clenched his jaw. His hands still trembled, his breath still caught unevenly. But he did not speak.
His attendants appeared at his side, two shadows, their hands dirtied with the same filth that stained him. They did not ask questions. They only waited.
Neji turned away. Step by step, he walked from the prison’s heart, leaving behind the death and silence, the image of Tenten’s blood on his hands.
He did not swear vengeance. He did not curse the heavens. He only walked faster, his two attendants trailing after him, blood-stained and silent.