Natsuki arrived at the Konoha stronghold — and found his reinforcements were unnecessary.
The defenders had already charged out.
The catalyst was predictable: the Might family.
Before deploying to the Rain's main camp, Natsuki had attached his three students to Might Duy's unit. All four had been assigned to this stronghold.
Both Guys were exactly the type of shinobi you'd expect — white-hot intensity from the first exchange. Mid-battle, father and son had both opened the Eight Inner Gates and punched straight through the Stone's front line. The breach was so decisive that the rest of the garrison followed them out, converting a defensive stand into a full offensive.
Natsuki watched for a moment, assessed the momentum, and gave the order. The forces he'd brought joined the assault.
It was over quickly. The Stone shinobi were killed or surrendered. The stronghold held.
"Natsuki-sensei!"
Guy, Kurenai, and Shizune jogged up, still breathing hard.
"Excellent work. Especially you, Guy."
"All credit to my dad!" Guy flashed a thumbs-up.
"Everyone contributed." Natsuki nodded. "After this campaign wraps up, the village will distribute merit accordingly."
"Natsuki-sensei." Kurenai tilted her head. "Why did you come to reinforce us? Yesterday's briefing didn't mention any support plan."
"Things moved fast."
He gave them the short version of the night's events — the Explosion Corps, Gari's death, the assault on the Stone's main camp.
All three stared.
They'd assumed this front would grind on for another month. Instead, it had collapsed overnight.
"Get some rest. I need to check the other two positions."
He leaped skyward and chained Air Doors to the stronghold Mikoto was reinforcing. That engagement was still active, but her arrival had tipped the balance decisively. Victory was a matter of time.
He moved to the third stronghold. Same situation — hard-fought, but trending toward a Konoha win.
He chose not to intervene. Stealing their credit would accomplish nothing.
He returned to main camp and waited.
By noon the following day, the war on this front was over.
Every Konoha shinobi returned to camp — along with several hundred Stone prisoners.
Inside the command tent, Natsuki watched his jōnin conduct the post-battle inventory with undisguised satisfaction.
By any historical measure, this was extraordinary. Since Konoha's founding, victories this lopsided were almost unheard of. Two thousand Iwagakure shinobi — annihilated. Not a single one had escaped. And Konoha's own casualties were remarkably light.
Half an hour later, Mikoto handed him a compiled scroll.
Natsuki reviewed it section by section.
Total captured materiel and supplies. Number of prisoners — over four hundred — with a separate roster of captured jōnin. Konoha's casualty figures.
The prisoner list drew his attention. No familiar names. Both Stone jōnin he'd recognized — Gari and Mahiru — had died in the fighting.
"Allocate one-third of captured supplies to the Hidden Rain Village."
He handed the scroll to Nara Suzaku. When Nara Clan shinobi appeared in wartime, they typically served as strategists and administrators.
Mikoto could have handled it — but she was already exhausted every night. Whatever workload he could redirect, he did.
"Yes, Lord Natsuki."
Suzaku responded immediately. One-third felt generous, but Natsuki had spoken, and no one was inclined to argue with the man who'd won them this victory singlehandedly.
Privately, Suzaku reflected that his tactical mind had been entirely superfluous this past month. The war had functioned on a simple principle: Natsuki pointed, they struck. No additional strategy required.
"Zo — has the battle report reached Konoha?"
"Dispatched last night, Lord Natsuki. Lord Hokage should have it by now."
"Two priorities going forward. First: monitor Iwagakure's response. Second: escort the wounded and prisoners back to Konoha."
He assigned the second task to Might Duy, with Guy, Kurenai, and Shizune accompanying. Someone needed to lead the convoy, and his students had earned a few days' rest. They were still young.
He could visit Konoha himself anytime he wanted.
Hokage's office, Konohagakure.
Orochimaru had summoned the full council — Homura, Koharu, Tsunade, Nawaki, and the remaining senior leadership.
"I knew Natsuki would crush them!" Nawaki was practically bouncing after reading the report.
"To inflict this kind of damage on the Stone overnight... it's difficult to believe." Homura's admiration was genuine.
Privately, he was also counting his blessings. He'd never sided with Danzo against Natsuki. If he had, surviving in Konoha's current hierarchy would be a very different proposition.
That wasn't an exaggeration. Natsuki's position was now strong enough to threaten their advisory seats if relations soured.
"His strength is becoming harder and harder to quantify." Tsunade shook her head.
Singlehandedly destroying the Explosion Corps. Singlehandedly breaching the Stone's main camp. Neither feat sounded like the work of one shinobi.
She found herself thinking of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara — individuals whose personal combat power could reshape an entire battlefield.
"After a blow this severe, the Stone's next move won't be a half-measure." Orochimaru's tone brought the room back to operational reality.
"Then let me take reinforcements!" Nawaki's eagerness was transparent.
"Not yet." Orochimaru considered. "We need to see the scale of their response before committing."
Whatever the Stone sent, it wouldn't be their full strength. They were still fighting the Sand on another front.
"I'm going too," Tsunade said.
"What — why?" Nawaki's face fell.
"Is there a problem with a medical ninja deploying to the front?"
She fixed him with a look that ended the argument before it started.
Nawaki swallowed his objection. He knew she was worried about him. But having his older sister shadowing him on his first major command felt... deflating.
"The two of you deploying together works well," Orochimaru said with a thin smile. "It'll announce to the shinobi world that Wood Release has returned."
Two hours later. Tsuchikage's office.
Ōnoki stared at the intelligence report. His hands trembled.
Catastrophic didn't begin to cover it. Two thousand shinobi — gone. Four hundred captured, the rest dead. Not a single escapee.
"Father, please — your health." Kitsuchi moved to steady him.
"A loss this devastating..." Ōnoki sank into his chair. "I cannot face the Daimyō with this. I cannot face the village."
"Gari's tactical decisions were sound." Kitsuchi chose his words with care. "The core problem was intelligence. Konoha knew our movements before we made them."
"A traitor?"
"Unlikely. If one existed at the level required, they'd need to be senior command. But Gari and Mahiru are both dead." Kitsuchi shook his head. "The four hundred prisoners are all low-ranking. No one in their ranks had access to operational planning."
He'd studied the battle reports exhaustively. The captured shinobi simply didn't have the clearance to leak what Konoha had known.
"My assessment: Konoha has somehow enhanced their intelligence-gathering capability to a degree we don't understand."
"If we can't counter it, we'll remain on the back foot indefinitely." Ōnoki rubbed his temples.
"I'll task the Anbu with finding a solution." Kitsuchi paused. "If all else fails, we resort to a frontal assault."
For shinobi, direct confrontation was always the worst option. It abandoned every advantage their profession was built around — infiltration, ambush, deception. And the casualties would be proportionally higher regardless of outcome.
But a frontal assault minimized the value of superior intelligence. If both sides knew everything, the fight came down to raw numbers and strength.
"You'll command this deployment personally," Ōnoki decided. "Four thousand shinobi."
"Yes, Father."
Four thousand was a massive commitment. The Stone was already fighting the Sand with another thousand. But Ōnoki was past the point of measured responses.
"Don't overextend. Prioritize understanding their intelligence apparatus. As long as they don't penetrate deep into the Land of Earth, that's sufficient."
"Understood."
"And watch for these individuals."
Ōnoki produced a supplementary briefing.
Kitsuchi scanned it. Familiar names, all of them.
First: Natsuki. The single greatest factor in the Stone's defeat. His strength and his impossible intelligence network had combined to devastating effect. The report placed heavy emphasis on his battlefield technique — the mass-summoned swords that detonated on command. The Stone didn't have a name for it.
Second: Might Duy and Might Guy. The father-son duo who'd broken the Stone's assault on the strongholds. The forbidden technique — the Eight Inner Gates — was now a known quantity.
Third through fifth: Amegakure's Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan. All three wielded large-scale combat techniques. All three possessed the ability to fly. The combination made them airborne siege weapons — capable of inflicting massive destruction at will, anywhere on the battlefield.
Worth noting: the Rinnegan was a legendary dōjutsu, but neither the Stone nor any other village had connected Nagato to it. The last confirmed wielder was the Sage of Six Paths himself, a thousand years dead. Most shinobi weren't even certain the Sage had actually existed.
"I have no idea where those three came from." Kitsuchi set the report down.
Hanzō's rise to prominence had a traceable arc. But Nagato, Yahiko, and Konan had appeared from nowhere — unknown before this war, devastating during it. The prevailing assumption across every intelligence service was that Konoha had manufactured them as proxies.
Hidden Sand Village main camp, Land of Birds.
The same intelligence sat on Rasa's desk.
He only had eyes for one name.
Natsuki.
Memory pulled him back to their previous battle. Back then, Natsuki had needed summoning scrolls to deploy his sword arsenal. Now he conjured them from thin air — space-time ninjutsu, pulling pre-stored weapons from an alternate dimension. Rasa could deduce the mechanism because he'd experienced the technique firsthand.
Beyond that, the raw power on display was far greater than before.
Rasa's fists tightened beneath the desk.
He still wasn't fully confident he could win. His own strength had grown considerably — but had it grown enough?
He set the report aside and turned his thoughts to the Sand's own front.
Since his arrival, the Sand had gained a slight edge against the Stone. But a decisive victory required an opening, and openings were hard to create when you were undermanned. Pakura had refused to send reinforcements.
The thought stung.
Everything traced back to losing the Kazekage seat. Once Pakura took the title, his influence had cratered. Now he felt like a general trying to wage war on an empty stomach.
Kazekage's office, Hidden Sand Village.
The woman Rasa wanted dead was leaning against her office window, face flushed, gazing out at the village through half-lidded eyes.
The sunset over the Sand was beautiful — amber light washing across the dunes and rooftops. But Pakura's glowing skin and damp, glistening face were something else entirely. Stripped of her usual severity, she looked nothing like the sharpest leader the Sand had produced in a generation.
No one else would ever see her like this.
Natsuki stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, her back pressed against his chest. In this moment, he wanted for nothing.
A long, slow stretch of time.
Pakura's body drew taut — her legs trembling, toes curling hard against the floor.
Then she went slack against him.
He carried her to the sofa and settled her in his lap.
"Lord Kazekage." He smiled down at her. "Your stamina is improving."
She was boneless against his chest. At his teasing, she managed a weak glare.
"How's the internal situation?" His fingers traced absently along her flushed cheek.
"With Rasa in the Land of Birds, only Reki remains." She took a steadying breath. "He's been cooperating. Chiyo and Ebizō probably had a word with him."
"Those two are sharp."
"Mm. And troublesome."
"They're old. Retirement is inevitable." His hand drifted lower, settling over her chest. "If you're impatient, you could always deploy them to the Land of Birds front."
"The Sand needs them." Her eyelashes fluttered at his touch. "If I eliminated them now, the village's stability would genuinely be at risk."
"Fair point."
He felt her heartbeat through the soft, heavy warmth beneath his palm.
"When are you moving on Rasa?" She shifted against him, enduring.
"Give it another month. After the Stone front stabilizes."
"Any movement from the Stone?"
"Four thousand additional shinobi. Kitsuchi commanding."
"They're serious this time." A smile found its way onto her face despite everything.
"Why does that make you happy?"
"Doesn't it prove how incredible you are?"
She said it quickly — a deflection, partly genuine flattery, partly an attempt to redirect his hand's attention elsewhere.
"When the time comes, I'll disguise myself as a Stone shinobi to kill Rasa."
"That's the cleanest version of his death." Pakura looked up at him.
If Rasa died at Konoha's hands, the political fallout would be unmanageable — she'd be forced into a hostile posture against her own ally. If the Stone killed him, all she needed to do was deploy more forces and escalate the Sand-Stone conflict. With Konoha already tying down the Stone's main force, the pressure on her would be manageable.
Far more manageable than what she'd faced before.
Business concluded, the conversation drifted.
"Which other kunoichi in the Sand do you find attractive?"
The question landed from nowhere.
"What kind of question is that?"
"If anyone catches your eye, I'll arrange it." She said it flatly, as though offering to schedule a meeting.
"Is that really how you see me?"
"No." She was honest about it. "This is for my own benefit."
He paused — then understood.
She was the Kazekage, and she was volunteering to recruit reinforcements for the bedroom. The shinobi world might look modern on the surface, but its social structures were still feudal at the core. That Pakura could entertain the idea without embarrassment said everything about the era they lived in.
"At present," Natsuki said after a moment's consideration, "you're the only kunoichi in the Sand who meets my standards."
The original timeline hadn't produced many standout beauties from this village. Temari was the most notable. Pakura herself. The rest were largely interchangeable. As for Karura — she'd barely appeared before dying in childbirth. Not much to go on.
Pakura went still for a moment.
For reasons she couldn't entirely explain, the answer made her genuinely happy.
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