"Misjudged."
When the forward scouts reported that "the Land of Hot Water has fallen; Konoha's army is fortifying Yugakure," the Fourth Raikage's face twisted with anger.
Everyone knows a prepared defensive line bleeds less than the attacker. Before a real clash, Konoha had already drawn first blood—if only a little.
By contrast, the "lightning-swift" Cloud army was slower in both march and readiness.
"Bro?"
Seeing his older brother so grim, Killer B couldn't help asking.
"It's fine. I just didn't expect… Uchiha Yorin—first time commanding an army—and he's this seasoned. How?"
"I think it's Konoha's transport network."
The one who answered beside the Raikage was a dark-skinned beauty—not the burly "muscle first, head later" type Cloud is infamous for, but a sharp, East-Asian-featured kunoichi: Mabui, the Raikage's new secretary, popular in the village and a rare intellect. When the village needed brains, she provided them.
"Mabui. Go on," the Raikage nodded.
"In the past two years, Konoha's transport company expanded rapidly. Besides the cashflow that sped Konoha's recovery, the depots and stations laid down in peacetime double as wartime logistics. Roads used for commerce can shift to troop movements. That's why Konoha's marching pace jumped—and why they overtook us."
"I see. A solid system… and that system was also—"
"—Uchiha Yorin, bro," Killer B cut in.
"A real talent."
If before the Raikage's talk of dragging Yorin back for 'breeding' was just morale-boosting banter, now he was half-serious. So young, so capable, both civil and martial—why is he Konoha's, not Cloud's?
With Uchiha pride and Yorin's current standing, flipping him would be nearly impossible. Honey-traps likely useless, too—Yorin might be lecherous, but Konoha's kunoichi are no less beautiful than Cloud's.
Fine then—break his limbs and let the village take turns ravaging him.
Cloud's style is that feral. Don't ask why; "We barbarians, that's why."
…
At that exact moment, Uchiha Yorin sneezed several times again.
"What's this, catching cold? I told you not to sit in hot springs, but you just had to—and now look. If you go down, what's everyone supposed to do?"
It was only a few sneezes; Tsunade's fussing made him want to mutter, Are you my mom?—but he didn't. Otherwise she'd never let him leave the room.
Hot springs with Tsunade should have been nice. Yugakure's baths are famous. Pity they didn't drag Shizune and Izumi along for an all-hands soak—else Tsunade would have wound up cocking a fist in warning.
Soon after, a wave of chills again—like someone, somewhere, was plotting him. Even a soak wouldn't be peaceful. Annoying.
The annoyance flared into anger when the frontlines relayed Cloud's battle cry:
"Down with Konoha! Capture Uchiha Yorin alive!"
If it had stopped there, it would've just stoked Konoha's anger and maybe morale. But the next two lines were… a lot.
"Bring him back for breeding—birth a Cloud Uchiha clan!"
"We'll seize Uchiha Yorin, find a hundred thousand fat aunties, and work him!"
"And we'll record it, copy a million times, and let the whole world watch!"
Many Cloud shinobi, picturing the scene, couldn't help the urge to wave flags.
Mei: "Hahahahahahaha!"
After dismissing her attendants, she nearly laughed herself into a fit. Cloud's always been crude, but this time their imagination went wild. Of course someone gave them a template.
That "someone" was Yorin—what he'd done to her, they now parroted back.
It was tasteless to laugh at her own man's plight—but she still laughed herself silly.
When she finished laughing, the anger kicked in. How dare Cloud—touch what's mine! Fevered or not, find your own relief—hands off my man.
Mei, furious, swore to fight harder, to pin Cloud to its knees so they'd never covet what was hers again.
…
Mist was livid; Konoha was incandescent.
Cloud dares target my man. Thought alone is crime. Thought alone is crime.
Seeing Tsunade practically ready to Edo Tensei the First and Second to help her throw punches, Yorin knew his army's morale was primed. He also finally understood the cold sweat these past days.
"Those bastards."
Yorin ground his teeth. "I hate barbarian chicks most of all. Humans with humans; barbarians with barbarians—that's nature's law. I will not let Cloud run rampant."
Tsunade: "Exactly! We can't sit idle—so what do we do?!"
She looked at him, expecting a rousing "Full advance!"
Nope. He wasn't that foolish. "We stick to the original plan."
"Oh…" A little let down—but she knew he was right.
"But," Yorin added, "beyond the existing strike teams—I will personally sortie."
Murmurs. Those who'd fought "Norman Conquest" under him brightened—they'd seen Ocean Titan crush a Kage. With him in, even the Fourth Raikage was a live target.
Old jōnin who hadn't fought under him assessed his weight—there was a lot.
At the start of the year, the Fourth Ninja War's first blows fell in the Land of the Moon.
As the buffer between Fire and Lightning, it leaned Lightning; the Land of Hot Water leaned Fire. Konoha had behaved in Hot Water—mostly because newfound wealth allowed manners.
But in Moon, the gloves came off. Konoha's elite vanguard didn't kill indiscriminately—not out of mercy, but because smashing logistics and roads slows an enemy more than corpses do.
Destruction is easier than creation.
A warehouse takes a year of farmers' sweat; it takes one Dragon Flame Song to turn it into ash.
Konoha's vanguard put the front on fire. Lightning's vanguard did their job: clearing, bridging, killing—professionals, not rabble. The ancient Astartes trick of sending rookies as scouts wasn't on their menu.
Both sides' elites clashed in Moon's poor hills, kunoichi and shinobi carving each other in threes and fives.
Normally, it'd be five-five; once Cloud's main body arrived, Konoha's vanguard would lay traps and pull back.
But this time, it was different.
…
"Up there… the battle should've started. Why no reports?"
At mid-command, the Fourth Raikage felt uneasy.
By shinobi standards, the vanguard should be ping-ponging hourly with messages. It had been four hours—four times the window—and nothing.
Either the vanguard had blundered—unlikely with that many jōnin and two elders who'd followed the Third Raikage—or…
"No. Impossible."
The dire thought crossed his mind; he crushed it. Ten-plus jōnin and five hundred elites erased in under an hour, no word out? Only one shinobi could do that.
The Yellow Flash.
Only the First of Speed could manage such a clean scythe.
But the Flash was with the Iwa front; Fire-Country assets had confirmed it from multiple angles.
So what?
When Cloud's main body finally reached the field, the forward detachments sucked in a breath.
Corpses, strewn everywhere—Cloud's finest five hundred and fourteen jōnin, annihilated. Heads severed, stacked in a grisly mound.
Before that grisly cairn stood Uchiha Yorin, Sharingan open, twin blades dripping, smiling like a devil—his aura alone freezing thousands of Cloud shinobi in place.
"W-what?! Move!"
Sensing the wrongness, the Fourth Raikage flashed forward with his brother, secretary, and guard—several bounds took him to the front.
Seeing it, he roared.
He knew the man blocking his way: "Uchiha Yorin!!"
Lightning Armor flared to full; he hurled himself forward. "Blood for blood!"
In this world, after the Flash's death, he was the fastest alive. Now he became an arrow loosed, streaking for Yorin.
All talk of "capture him for breeding" evaporated. There was only rage—destroy him.
Yorin watched the oncoming blur with calm, thumb slashing across his throat—a cutthroat sign—and vanished.
Flying Thunder God.
He'd already seeded marks; that's why he dared stand alone before fifteen thousand.
A full-power strike, into emptiness. The Raikage's fury had nowhere to go; he punched the sky and howled.
"Damn it! Damn it! Ahhhhh!!"
Thunder ripped across the heavens—sign of the Raikage's failure, and Konoha's first true victory.
In their first exchange, he—and Cloud—lost utterly. Face and flesh, both taken by Uchiha Yorin.
~~~
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