"Haha, Kitsuchi, you're underestimating that boy far too much."
Ōnoki's voice carried a measured weight as he glanced at his son, his aged eyes still sharp with experience.
"Although he's only twelve, his composure and judgment surpass many seasoned shinobi. If you truly tried to act against him recklessly, you'd quickly realize something Uzumaki Menma is not as simple as he appears. Tell me… in your experience, has Orochimaru ever been someone easy to deal with?"
Kitsuchi's expression shifted slightly at that question.
"Father… what exactly do you mean?"
Ōnoki folded his hands behind his back as he floated steadily in midair, maintained by the Light-Weight Rock Technique.
"What I mean is simple," he replied calmly. "That boy's strength is at least comparable to Orochimaru's. More importantly, what kind of leverage must he possess for Orochimaru to stand alongside him as an equal? Do you still think Menma is merely Orochimaru's subordinate?"
Kitsuchi fell into brief silence, recalling the earlier encounter. The way Menma and Orochimaru interacted there was no clear hierarchy.
"…No," he admitted after a moment, shaking his head. "They didn't feel like master and subordinate. It was more like… an alliance."
"Exactly."
Ōnoki's lips curved faintly.
"But Menma is only twelve," Kitsuchi continued, his brows furrowing. "Even if he's the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki… can he really wield that power with such control?"
That question carried real weight.
Within Iwagakure, both Rōshi and Han were powerful jinchūriki. Even Kitsuchi himself, despite his strength, could only contend with them under controlled conditions. If they fought seriously, he would most likely lose.
The power of a tailed beast was overwhelming.
Ōnoki let out a low chuckle.
"Perfect control? It seems you still don't fully understand the Nine-Tails."
His tone grew more serious.
"Konoha has rarely deployed the Nine-Tails in war, but you've seen the Eight-Tails. You've also witnessed the might of the Third Raikage. Even I admit inferiority in certain aspects. Yet the Nine-Tails is far stronger than the Eight-Tails."
He paused briefly.
"The incident in Konoha twelve years ago proves it. Even the Fourth Hokage gave his life to stop it, and half the village was destroyed. If that boy were truly able to fully unleash the Nine-Tails' power… what do you think would happen?"
Kitsuchi's expression tightened.
"And that's not even considering the reactions of the other villages," Ōnoki continued. "They're all watching closely. There's no need for us to act first."
A faint smirk appeared on his face.
"That boy, Menma… is the perfect 'test point' for us."
Kitsuchi blinked.
"…What exactly do you mean?"
Ōnoki narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed.
"What do I mean? I've already made it obvious."
He clicked his tongue lightly, his dissatisfaction apparent.
Truthfully, in terms of strength, reputation, and experience, Kitsuchi was more than qualified to become Tsuchikage. For over a decade, he had been regarded as the natural successor.
And yet, Ōnoki had never stepped down.
Not because of greed for power.
Not because of political pressure.
But because something essential was missing.
A Kage required more than strength he needed a broader vision, the ability to weigh risks, manipulate situations, and see beyond immediate gains.
Kitsuchi wasn't lacking entirely… but he still fell short.
"…I understand your reasoning," Kitsuchi said after a moment, though hesitation lingered in his tone. "But this still feels risky. The initiative is entirely in our hands. If we decide to act against him later, Menma won't have the ability to resist."
Ōnoki gave a short, knowing laugh.
"Do you really think he hasn't already seen through all of this?"
Kitsuchi's eyes widened slightly.
"You mean… he knows?"
"Of course."
Ōnoki's gaze sharpened.
"That boy is far more perceptive than you think. The 'trap' you're imagining isn't something hidden it's something laid out in plain sight. And yet, he chose to step into it anyway."
He paused, then added quietly:
"And while stepping in… he did so willingly."
That was what made Menma dangerous.
Not ignorance but awareness.
"He understands he's being used," Ōnoki continued, "but from his perspective, this is the optimal choice."
Kitsuchi frowned, deep in thought.
"So he's… using us as well?"
"Exactly."
Ōnoki snorted.
"This isn't simple exploitation. It's mutual benefit. He needs us just as much as we can make use of him."
Silence followed as the wind rushed past them.
"…Still," Kitsuchi said slowly, "this feels like a gamble. If things go wrong "
Ōnoki interrupted him.
"Does he have a choice?"
Those words carried undeniable weight.
Kitsuchi froze.
Ōnoki's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Otherwise… why do you think I asked him why he left Konoha?"
That question had never been casual.
It was confirmation.
Menma had completely severed his ties with Konoha.
Which meant
He had no retreat.
No fallback.
No second path.
For someone in that position, every decision was a calculated risk.
And alliances like this…
Were not optional.
They were necessary.