As The Kyuubi no Yoko in Naruto

The Hokage's office was dark, lit only by the setting sun filtering through the windows. Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, pipe smoke curling in the air as he faced his oldest friend and greatest rival.

"You've read Kakashi's report?" Hiruzen asked, though it wasn't really a question. Shimura Danzo missed nothing that concerned village security.

"Indeed," Danzo's voice was measured, his visible eye fixed on some point beyond the window. "The boy's condition is... progressing as one might expect."

"You mean deteriorating," Hiruzen corrected sharply.

"Do I?" Danzo's tone carried a hint of something almost like amusement. "Tell me, old friend, what would you have me say? That I wish to take him into Root's protective custody? To shape him into the weapon we both know he could become?"

Hiruzen's eyes narrowed. This wasn't the conversation he'd expected. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"Then you still don't understand the true nature of a jinchūriki's power." Danzo tapped his cane once against the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet office. "Consider a tree, Hiruzen. What gives it strength?"

"If you're about to lecture me about roots again-"

"Not roots," Danzo interrupted. "Light. The very thing that makes it visible to all. A tree growing in darkness becomes twisted, weak. Its greatest strength lies in standing tall where all can see it."

Hiruzen's pipe stopped halfway to his lips. "You're suggesting..."

"A jinchūriki's power lies not just in their bijuu, but in being seen. In being a visible deterrent to our enemies." Danzo's eye gleamed in the fading light. "What use is a weapon of mass destruction if it's hidden in shadow? No, the boy must remain in the light - even if that light reveals... instability."

"Root has been disbanded, Danzo," Hiruzen reminded him, though they both knew the truth of that statement.

"So it has," Danzo agreed easily. "And even if it hadn't, the boy would not suit our methods. His power comes from emotion - raw, visible, frightening emotion. The very thing Root would strip away."

Hiruzen studied his old rival carefully. "You're being surprisingly forthcoming."

"Do not take me for a fool, Hiruzen," Danzo's voice hardened slightly. "I have always acted in the village's best interests, even when you disagreed with my methods. The boy's current... condition... serves those interests far better than any training I could provide."

The implication hung heavy in the air between them. An unstable jinchūriki, visibly struggling with his tenant's influence but still loyal to the village, was perhaps the greatest deterrent they could present to their enemies.

"And the Uchiha boy?" Hiruzen asked, watching Danzo's reaction carefully.

"A fortunate anchor," Danzo replied. "Though perhaps not entirely coincidental, given the Sharingan's historical connection to controlling the Nine-Tails."

They both remembered another Uchiha, one who had proven far less loyal. One whose actions still cast shadows over their village.

"The arrangement seems to be working," Hiruzen noted, relighting his pipe. "For now."

"Indeed." Danzo rose slowly, his cane tapping against the floor. "Though we both know how quickly such arrangements can change. Like a tree's roots spreading in unexpected directions."

Hiruzen's eyes narrowed at the metaphor. "Root is disbanded, Danzo," he repeated firmly.

"So you keep reminding me," Danzo moved toward the door, his voice carrying that same hint of almost-amusement. "Good evening, old friend. Do keep me informed of any... interesting developments."

As the door closed behind him, Hiruzen stared at the curl of smoke rising from his pipe. They both knew the truth - Root still operated in the shadows, but without proof, there was nothing he could do.

Just as they both knew that Danzo would be watching the village's unstable weapon very, very carefully.

Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

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The moon had risen over Konoha, casting long shadows through the Uchiha compound. The imprints gathered in their now-familiar formation, creating a barrier that would hide their conversation from prying eyes and ears.

"Why all this?" Sasuke finally asked, the question that had been building since their elaborate performance began. "The act, the unstable weapon narrative - why not just hide your true nature?"

Naruto's eyes flickered red briefly as the Nine-Tails chose to answer directly through him, his voice carrying that ancient weight they'd both grown accustomed to.

"Think, young Uchiha. What happens to weapons that can be controlled? They get used. Pointed at enemies, yes, but also at whatever their masters deem threatening." The voice carried centuries of bitter experience. "But a weapon that might break in your hands? That requires... careful handling."

The imprints shifted around them, their barrier holding steady as they maintained their vigil. Some seemed to nod in agreement with the demon's words, while others made gestures suggesting past experiences that proved this point.

"So instead of a tool they can direct," Sasuke reasoned, "you're becoming one they have to handle with caution."

"Precisely. They fear what they can't fully control. By appearing unstable but still fundamentally loyal through you, we gain freedom. They won't dare push too hard, won't risk tipping that delicate balance."

Sasuke considered this, watching how the imprints continued their complex dance of concealment around them. "And my role in this? Beyond being the 'anchor'?"

"You are more than just an anchor, young one. You are proof that their weapon can form bonds, can be guided by something other than pure instinct. It makes them believe they still have some measure of control, even if it's through you."

The irony wasn't lost on either of them - the village believing Sasuke was their link to controlling Naruto, when in reality, both boys were working together under the Nine-Tails' guidance.

Around them, the imprints maintained their protective barrier, their forms a silent testament to how many layers of deception truly existed in their world.

"And the Sharingan?" Sasuke pressed, his own eyes reflecting red in the moonlight. "You're not afraid I'll eventually develop the power to control you, like Madara did? You are after all aiding me in ways that strengthen it."

A low, rumbling chuckle echoed through Naruto's voice. "Control requires distance, young one. Madara could dominate me because he saw me as nothing but a beast to be tamed. But you..."

The ancient voice grew thoughtful. "You've seen beyond that. You know me as more than just the demon they fear."

"Besides," the voice continued a small silence, "those eyes of yours are developing differently. Not through hatred like your brother's, but through protection. Through bonds. That makes them... interesting."

Sasuke absorbed this, watching how the barrier of imprints seemed to respond to their conversation, adjusting their formations to better hide them from the ANBU's regular patrols.

"And what happens when they eventually realize?" he asked. "When they see through the act?"

"By then, it won't matter." The warmth curled closer around Naruto's consciousness, the slit red eyes becoming a darker shade. "We'll be strong enough that their realization will come too late.

They'll have no choice but to accept the reality they helped create - a weapon they can neither control nor afford to lose."

The imprints maintained their barrier, though their forms flickered anxiously whenever the Nine-Tails' presence became more pronounced.

Even now, after years of exposure, they couldn't suppress their instinctive terror of the ancient being.

"For now," the voice concluded, "we continue our performance. Let them see what they expect to see. Let them think their careful handling is working exactly as intended."

Some of the imprints pointed frantically at training scrolls - traditional Uchiha techniques - before scattering into barely visible wisps when the Nine-Tails' attention turned their way.

Their fear was palpable, a constant reminder of the true nature of what resided within Naruto.

As night deepened, Sasuke followed the imprints advice - once more being able to see them thanks to the Kyuubi, temporarily though again - gathered the training scrolls, his movements deliberate in case of watching ANBU - despite the imprints protection, never too reliant on it.

"Tomorrow's training," he said quietly. "Kakashi will be watching more carefully now."

"His Sharingan will see exactly what we want it to see," The Kyuubi replied, "A student struggling with control, not one choosing when to lose it."

The imprints' barrier flickered as a patrol passed nearby, their forms becoming more transparent before solidifying again - they were growing tired.

Their terror of the Nine-Tails made them unreliable allies, but useful tools - their very fear driving them to maintain the deception, if only to avoid drawing his direct attention.

"Rest now, kit," the warmth advised within Naruto who listened from within. "Tomorrow we give them another carefully measured performance."

Sasuke watched his friend leave, then turned his attention to the imprints.

Their fear to him was a constant reminder of what he was dealing with - not just a demon, but something ancient and terrible that even death itself couldn't fully escape.

Yet here they were, working with it, guided by it, while the village's leadership believed they were containing it.

Sometimes, Sasuke wondered who was really being fooled.

In the end he decided that these thoughts were worthless.

Strength was all that mattered, and he will only gain it by continuing to play this game.

So play he will.