Chapter 28: Who Let This Peeping— I Mean, Burglar In?!
...Seriously, what is WRONG with Danzō Shimura?
It was the middle of the night when Sakura bolted upright in bed, still stewing over the whole essay fiasco.
She was a freshly graduated genin. An academy student this morning. All she'd done was dash off a graduation essay, and this freak had stolen her test paper?
Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
No wonder the man spent his entire life getting big-brothered by the Third Hokage.
Just as Sakura was about to flop back down and go to sleep, a dark silhouette appeared on her windowsill.
The figure was wearing an outfit virtually identical to ANBU gear, face covered by a mask — except the mask wasn't the standard animal pattern. It was a swirling, striped design.
He crouched on the sill and gave the window a light tap-tap-tap.
Sakura stared at the figure for one blank second.
Then she grabbed the alarm clock off her nightstand.
SMASH!!!
The window exploded outward in a shower of wood splinters and glass shards as the "alarm clock" rocketed from Sakura's hand like a cannonball.
The figure took the projectile dead center in the chest with zero warning. It felt, approximately, like getting hit by a freight train. His entire body went sailing backward off the second-story windowsill and crashed to the ground below.
Ding-a-ling-a-ling! Ding-a-ling-a-ling!
The "weapon" tumbled off his chest and clattered to the pavement, cheerfully ringing away at a volume sufficient to wake the dead.
"WHERE DID THIS PEEPING— I mean, BURGLAR COME FROM?!"
A clear, bell-like voice rang out across the street.
Sakura, arms crossed, stood on the ruined windowsill in her pink pajamas, looking down at the crumpled figure below with a magnificent expression of righteous indignation.
"Sneaking up on a defenseless little girl in the middle of the night?! Have you no SHAME?!"
She had made an enormous amount of noise. Every single house in the neighborhood was flickering to life, one window at a time.
Down below, the figure heard her words, and the sheer audacity of the claim made him spit blood. Red liquid trickled down from behind his mask.
Defenseless?!
But — he glanced at the lights coming on in every direction and knew this had gotten out of hand fast. This was a mission from Lord Danzō. His orders were to escort this little ancestor back to Root headquarters.
"I'm—"
"You're WHAT?!"
"BURGLAR! EAT THIS!"
Heavenly Foot of Pain!
Sakura didn't give him a single syllable to work with. She vaulted off the windowsill, bare feet and all, one small leg swinging up to a full hundred-and-eighty-degree split in midair before coming down like a guillotine toward the poor bastard's skull.
The unlucky operative's heart nearly seized. He threw himself to the side with everything he had.
Where Sakura's foot touched down, the earth cracked. Paving stones shattered. Dust and debris erupted into the night air.
"WHO'S THERE?!"
"WHERE'S THE BURGLAR?!"
"Breaking into houses in the middle of the night?!"
"He's got a death wish!"
"Where is he?! SHOW YOURSELF!"
By now, every door in the neighborhood was open. Residents poured out in sleepwear and hastily thrown-on coats, armed with whatever they'd grabbed first.
A couple of the bigger guys had just charged out shirtless, ready for war.
Oh no.
The operative saw the mob forming and panicked. He abandoned any pretense of completing his mission and turned to run.
Root's existence was classified above top secret — unknown to ordinary villagers and most regular shinobi alike. Under no circumstances could he let this furious civilian mob actually catch him.
"DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!"
"There he is! Everybody GET HIM!"
Sakura stood in the middle of the street, pointing at the fleeing operative's back, her face wearing the faintest little smile. She made absolutely no move to chase him herself.
She'd identified the man the moment she laid eyes on him.
He wasn't ANBU. Real ANBU were under the Hokage's direct command.
It was the middle of the night. What possible reason would the old man have to send ANBU to bother her? And even if he had wanted to summon her, he'd have just knocked on the front door like a normal person — not this skulking nonsense that screamed I'm definitely up to no good from a mile away.
And the mask was wrong. ANBU wore animal masks. This guy was wearing that striped pattern. Which left only one option: Danzō's Root.
The chaos spread across the entire block like a pot boiling over. The residents of the neighborhood — armed with laundry paddles, thermos bottles, table legs, stools, and frying pans — surged after the Root operative in a tidal wave of righteous civilian fury.
The poor man hadn't gotten far. That alarm clock to the chest had snapped several ribs on impact, and he could barely manage more than a stumbling jog.
"Huh?"
"Wait — is this an ANBU guy?"
The villagers who managed to corner him paused when they saw his ANBU-style uniform.
"He's NOT ANBU!"
"ANBU masks look completely different from his!"
"He's a FAKE!"
Sakura was bouncing up and down at the edge of the crowd, fanning the flames with gusto.
"Oh, it's Sakura!"
"Well, Sakura's the Third Hokage's own disciple — she'd definitely know the difference!"
Between a stranger in a suspicious mask and the Hokage's cute little pink-haired apprentice, the villagers' trust was not exactly evenly distributed.
"You — all of you!"
"I'm NOT a burglar!"
The Root operative was practically apoplectic, trying to talk his way out of the encirclement.
But even as he faced the wall of angry civilians surrounding him, he didn't dare fight back. If he raised a hand against ordinary villagers... there was no coming back from that.
"You're WHAT?!"
"You say you're not a burglar? Then PROVE your identity!"
Sakura kept stirring from the back row.
"Yeah! Sakura's right!"
"Show us some ID, or this frying pan's about to get real friendly!"
"Sneaking around peeping in windows in the middle of the night — you're definitely no good!"
"My spatula has been waiting for this!"
The Root operative's mouth opened and closed. Nothing came out.
Prove his identity?
How was he supposed to prove his identity?
Root operatives didn't have identities!
Seeing the man standing there, opening and closing his mouth like a landed fish with nothing to show for it, the crowd reached its verdict unanimously.
This guy IS a burglar. Dressed up as ANBU.
The NERVE. Impersonating ANBU inside Konoha's walls!
"EAT LAUNDRY PADDLE!"
It was unclear which neighborhood auntie threw the first swing, but in the next second, the entire mob dog-piled the poor man at once.
The night air filled with the percussive symphony of stools, paddles, iron pots, and one very sincere voice begging for mercy.
"Everybody, please don't hit his lower back! That's the weakest spot!"
"And definitely don't pull his hair! Or step on his fingers!"
Sakura couldn't even squeeze into the scrum. She stood on tiptoe outside the ring, shouting her helpful suggestions at top volume with zero intention of calming anyone down.
"Lord Third!"
"Lord Third, there's been an incident!"
Hiruzen had been sound asleep. The shout yanked him awake instantly — at his age, a feather landing on the nightstand could wake him up.
"What happened?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, blinking groggily at the ANBU kneeling before him.
"The villagers caught someone impersonating an ANBU operative."
The ANBU member hesitated slightly before continuing.
???
Impersonating ANBU?
Who had that kind of gall — to pull something like that inside Konoha?
Hiruzen frowned, genuinely puzzled.
"If the patrol squad hadn't arrived when they did, the civilians would likely have... beaten the impostor to death."
Hiruzen blinked.
An ANBU impostor...?
That wouldn't happen to be one of Danzō's Root operatives, would it...?