-
The air on Mito's side of the clearing wasn't just tense; it was the kind of silence that makes a man reconsider his life choices.
In Hiruzen Sarutobi's case, he was rapidly recalculating his career prospects—maybe something peaceful, like professional flower arranging.
The conclusion was grim. He was approximately 80% certain he had just made Mito's personal hit list—a woman who, at this very moment, was casually using the Nine-Tails' chakra as a mood light.
But a Hokage's job is to eat humble pie so the village can have cake. And 80% wasn't 100%. There was still a 20% window for survival, and a wise shinobi always exploits an opening.
He cleared his throat, deploying his most potent jutsu: the Strategic Apology.
"It seems," he began, with the grace of a man walking on Legos, "that I still have many things to learn as a Hokage."
No one was fooled. They all knew the Will of Fire wasn't just about protecting the village; it was about the incandescent, slightly terrifying glow of a grandmother who would level a mountain for her family.
Mito wasn't just embodying the Will of Fire; she was setting it on a higher, more intimidating pay grade.
A smile that didn't quite reach the "we're all friends here" stage graced Mito's lips.
"Wise decision," she purred, the yellow chakra receding like a satisfied predator. "Remember, Hiruzen, how you support Uzushiogakure is your decision. How we support our family... is ours."
At this point, she was operating on a different wavelength entirely. The ninja world was a simple place: strength was the only currency that never depreciated.
Let the gossips whisper about her being "overbearing" in the shadows. She dared just one of them to say it to her face.
Her real concerns were far simpler: her two grandchildren and her students. One was a walking natural disaster who could collect Kage-level scalps as a hobby.
The other could probably orchestrate a hostile takeover of a major village during her lunch break.
And Nawaki? Given the years of her "special" training with the boy, in a few more years, he'd be giving the Five Kage unsolicited advice.
Satisfied, Mito's senses—still the finest in the world—brushed against the departing Uchiha contingent.
A tiny, knowing smirk touched her lips. She understood Azula's logic perfectly.
Why weren't the Uzumaki and Uchiha traveling together?
It was simple, really. Your average Uchiha made a preening peacock look humble.
Now, with their status as the "Number One Clan" officially confirmed? They'd be insufferable.
Azula's plan was simple: let the two clans first bond over a few shared life-or-death battles before they were introduced.
Let them get the "my chakra is prettier than yours" posturing out of their system on the battlefield, where the only audience was the enemy.
After all, when both of your family crests might as well be a lit fuse, it's best to handle introductions with care.
Mito had initially thought her student was being paranoid.
Then she remembered that, according to Azula, these were the same people who raised a teenager so emotionally stunted he decided the solution to a family problem was genocide.
Yeah. A little caution was warranted.
Her gaze swept over her assembled ninja.
"We depart for Uzushiogakure in thirty minutes," she announced, her voice cutting through the adrenaline-fueled silence. "If you have unfinished business, now is the time."
They were heading to war. And war had a nasty habit of canceling all future appointments.
These thirty minutes were a final gift—a last chance to write a letter, whisper a confession, or simply stare at the sky and remember what they were fighting for. Best to settle their hearts before they offered them to the battlefield.
...
...
...
After leaving Konoha, the Uchiha troop moved fast—well, "Genin-level speed" fast, which for them meant the kind of pace that would make most Genin cry blood and beg for a break. The forest blurred around them in streaks of green and shadow, and to no one's surprise, they didn't encounter a single ambush.
Azula wasn't surprised. Frankly, she'd have been shocked if someone had been stupid enough to try. This was the Land of Fire all the way to the Land of Whirlpools. To even think of ambushing the Uchiha—an entire clan—wasn't bravery; it was a form of natural selection.
Anyone dumb enough to try would need at least two thousand shinobi. And a group that size couldn't so much as sneeze without half the continent knowing.
Their march only stopped when the land quite literally ran out—replaced by the endless shimmer of the sea. While ninja could technically walk on water, marching across an entire ocean on foot was less "shinobi stealth" and more "public suicide with extra steps."
But of course, they'd planned ahead. Azula didn't even have to lift a finger. Waiting for them along the shoreline were several sleek Uzumaki ships, their crimson emblems gleaming under the sun.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Azula-sama," one of the boatmen said with a respectful bow. "The Uzumaki are deeply grateful for the Uchiha's support."
Azula smiled, a touch of fire dancing in her golden eyes. "Think nothing of it. We Uchiha aren't the ungrateful sort. We repay our debts… especially to those who've earned our respect."
She paused, her voice lowering into something more regal. "During the First Ninja War, many of our own were saved by the Uzumaki. And as the disciple of Lady Mito herself, I consider this alliance a matter of honor."
The boatman's eyes practically sparkled. Azula Uchiha—the prodigy said to have fought two Kage at once and lived—was standing before him, smiling like a goddess with a Sharingan. And now she was here, leading an army of Uchiha to aid his clan.
It wasn't just a welcome sight. It was a divine one.
A slow smile spread across Azula's lips as she observed the Uzumaki man.
He was looking at the flotilla of rescue boats with such pathetic hope—like a kitten staring at an empty food bowl. He clearly thought Konoha's cavalry was just over the horizon.
She felt pity for what should have happened without her: Konoha not coming. In fact, according to the original script, a certain darkness of the ninja world was probably already picking out the wallpaper for their vacant compound.
Akumo caught her look—a bizarre mix of regal condescension and what he could only interpret as sympathy. It was confusing enough to short-circuit his questions.
"According to your numbers," he said, pulling himself together, "I presume five boats will be sufficient?"
His logic was almost endearing in its simplicity. Lots of boats = lots of Konoha ninja later. Azula mentally calculated the impending dumpster fire of betrayal.
"Yes," she replied. "It's more than enough."
The Uchiha, to their credit, were a model of terrifying efficiency. In under five minutes, the first boat was slicing through the waves, followed by another at two-minute intervals. Azula had strategically positioned herself in the third boat.
It wasn't that she was worried. With her sensing range, she could probably tell if someone on the last boat got a splinter. But being in the middle was just… tidier. If some fool decided to launch an ambush, she could intervene in about 0.2 seconds.
Not that I'll need to, with my Flying Thunder God, she mused, leaning against the railing as if on a pleasure cruise. The sea was her security system.
Those bizarre, pallid plant-men—the White Zetsu—couldn't exactly set up an ambush in open water. They'd turn into soggy, floating salads. The thought was almost amusing.
So, relaxed and utterly bored with the lack of imminent peril, she turned her formidable intellect to the future. She had an idea.
(END OF CHAPTER)
Sorry for the lack of chapter yesterday