Konoha Village.
The endless rain seemed to mourn the countless shinobi who had fallen in battle.
Thunder flickered across the dark, heavy sky, painting brief flashes of light over the Senju compound.
Inside, the air was tense.
"Damn it! How could this be a coincidence?!"
With a furious crack, Tsunade's fist smashed through the wooden table, splintering it into pieces. Across from her, the aged Uzumaki Mito sat silently, her expression carved with quiet sorrow.
No one had expected that a simple mission would nearly extinguish the last bloodline of the First Hokage himself.
After a long pause, Mito finally spoke, her voice hoarse and tired.
"Tsunade… what if it really was a coincidence?"
But even as she said it, a bitter, self-mocking smile crept across her lips.
She didn't believe it — not for a second.
Neither did Tsunade.
"Coincidence?" Tsunade hissed, teeth clenched. "Those so-called wandering samurai didn't have any suspicious background. Having explosive tags for protection — sure, that's normal. Setting traps? That's normal too."
Her lips curled into a sharp, cold smile.
"So reasonable, isn't it? Not a single flaw in the report. And yet, somehow, this 'simple' mission — within the Land of Fire, no less — managed to kill a genin with chūnin-level ability right under Orochimaru's nose. All because of one careless step into a trap."
Her fists trembled.
"Blown to pieces by an army's worth of explosive tags — and still, all records say the materials were legitimately purchased! Doesn't that seem a bit too neat, Grandmother?"
The more perfect the story, the more it stank.
If they hadn't been warned by that mysterious intel before, this would've looked like a tragic accident forever buried in the archives — clean, untraceable, unquestioned.
But now? Now that the warning lined up with reality too perfectly.
And it had happened right at Konoha's doorstep.
Nawaki's twelfth birthday, one day, a "harmless" mission, the next.
By that evening, Jiraiya himself was back in the village, telling her to go identify the body.
How could that be a coincidence?
Tsunade's breathing turned sharp.
"And as for the Uchiha…"
Her lips twisted in a grim smirk.
"Please. The Uchiha are already isolated and desperate to prove their loyalty. Even if they wanted to attack us, do you think the police force alone has the power or precision for this kind of setup?"
The Uchiha were strong — everyone knew that.
Not just in Konoha, but across the shinobi world.
But most of their elite had already been sent to the frontlines.
The few left behind were under constant surveillance.
For them to orchestrate something this flawless?
Impossible.
"Mito-sama…" Tsunade said bitterly, lowering her head.
The old woman's shoulders sagged. She sighed, a sound filled with weariness and heartbreak.
"Nawaki is my grandson, Tsunade. If he's truly gone… then perhaps it's better this way. I'll send word to the Daimyō's mansion — the Senju still have influence there. We'll keep his existence hidden. He can live, quietly, in safety."
"Mito-sama…"
"Tsunade." Mito's tone softened. "The Konoha we see today is not the Konoha we once knew. But the war is still raging — you mustn't act on impulse."
Her words were gentle, but they struck deep.
Tsunade's rage cooled. Her expression became frighteningly calm.
That calmness made Mito's heart ache.
"Don't worry, Grandmother," Tsunade said quietly.
She wasn't the type to lose herself forever to emotion.
There was a reason she would one day become the Fifth Hokage — behind her fiery temper was the steel mind of a leader.
Seeing that composure return, Mito smiled faintly, though sorrow clouded her eyes.
"Good. Tsunade… I don't have much time left. When I'm gone, look after Kushina. And the clan."
Before Tsunade could reply, both of them suddenly turned their heads — chakra signatures were approaching fast.
"Tsunade!"
A familiar voice shouted outside.
The door slid open with a bang, and there stood Jiraiya, drenched from the rain.
Tsunade's eyes flashed — she instantly masked her grief with anger.
"Jiraiya, if you've come here to disturb me, you'd better have a damn good reason!"
But Jiraiya didn't respond. His face was pale, heavy with dread.
Something inside her twisted.
"Jiraiya… don't tell me the frontlines are collapsing?" she asked, forcing a smile.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Tsunade… Orochimaru's back. He's… at the morgue."
Thunder split the sky.
For an instant, white light filled the room — and Tsunade's eyes went wide, blank with disbelief.
She didn't need to ask. She already knew.
A violent splash of water echoed through the rain-soaked streets as Tsunade sprinted through the village faster than any human should move.
Jiraiya followed close behind, heart pounding.
Even now, he couldn't help thinking — only a woman, and a ninja like her, could hide such pain behind such perfect control.
The morgue.
Rain poured hard enough to blur the world.
Heavy footsteps splashed against the ground — then stopped abruptly before the doorway.
Tsunade stood frozen, breath shallow, her hands trembling.
Orochimaru leaned against the wall beside the door, his pale face unreadable.
Her rapid breathing wasn't from exertion. It was fear.
Before she could step forward, Jiraiya caught up and whispered softly,
"Don't look, Tsunade. Trust me… You don't want to see."
The look in his eyes told her everything.
Orochimaru exhaled slowly, his voice quiet and disturbingly calm.
"What does it matter? You wouldn't recognize him anyway."
"Shut up, Orochimaru!" Jiraiya barked, his tone filled with fury.
But Orochimaru merely gave a faint, bitter smile.
"It's war, Jiraiya. Bodies get rearranged all the time. Especially when it's a child… who just got a birthday gift yesterday."
He reached into his cloak and withdrew a small, familiar object — a pendant.
The First Hokage's necklace.
Tsunade's eyes widened, her world collapsing inward.
Jiraiya turned away.
There were no words.
That was the reality of war — merciless and casual.
Tsunade's trembling hands reached out and took the necklace. The cool metal burned against her skin.
Tears fell silently down her cheeks.
Her voice broke as she screamed — raw, grieving, powerless.
"Nawaki!!"
Her cry tore through the storm.
Outside, shinobi passing by froze in place. Heads bowed. Faces darkened.
In this world, death was an everyday sound.
But that scream — that heartbreak — was different.
Meanwhile, deep within the Land of Fire.
The drizzle fell gently, mixing with the scent of wet earth.
"August 10th," murmured a young man perched atop a tree branch. "Yesterday was Nawaki's twelfth birthday. That means… today Tsunade should already know."
Even if Nawaki's death had been a coincidence, once the seed of doubt was planted, coincidence no longer existed.
Such was human nature.
Uchiha Ye exhaled softly, eyes reflecting the dim clouds above.
"Ye!"
A shadow appeared beside him — Uchiha Mikoto, her black cloak soaked by rain, the clan's long sword strapped across her back. Her crimson eyes gleamed — two tomoe swirling.
"According to the ninja cats' scent trail," she said coldly, "our target's hiding in that cave."
The usually gentle Mikoto was now ice and steel — her Sharingan glowing as she stared at the dark cave ahead, murder in her gaze.
A hand touched her shoulder.
The killing intent around her vanished instantly.
"Mikoto-senpai," Ye said quietly.
She took a breath, nodding, steadying herself. Together, they looked toward the cave.
Inside the darkness, something moved.
A raspy, cracked voice echoed from within — slow and emotionless.
"Footsteps… man or woman?"
The hunched old figure lifted his head, a glint of madness flickering in his eyes.
He grinned faintly, whispering to himself.
"Decided. If it's a woman who walks in first… she dies."
His murky eyes fixed on the mouth of the cave, waiting.
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