65 - Impending

Land of Waves

Fugaku, standing tall yet with an air of disbelief, gazed at his youngest, Sasuke. He had never thought he'd see the child again. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken emotions, a mixture of joy, sorrow, and a deep sense of regret. Mikoto clung to the boy, sobbing quietly as she smothered him within her embrace.

"...Oyaji, Kaachan," Sasuke finally spoke up, his voice soft, "...It's been a while."

His mother gave a sniffle as she released him. "Yes, it has," she said with a sad chuckle, subconsciously wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. "I'm so glad to see you're alright."

"It's been too long," Fugaku said, stepping forward to rest a hand on his son's shoulder. "...You've done well, my son."

The boy shrugged noncommittally in response. "My complacency cost us the Uchiha. I can only try to even out the scales now... Let's forget that for a moment. Come, father, mother. Let's catch up."

Fugaku felt his left brow rise involuntarily at his son's words. "...You've grown," the undead patriarch said, unsure himself if that was a good or bad thing. "Seeing you again fills my heart with both joy and pain. Joy, for you have grown strong and capable. Pain, for the path you seem to have chosen, is one clouded with vengeance. Your brother—"

"Intercession?" interrupted a voice as frigid as the waters of the Land of Glaciers. "Is that what I hear on the weasel's behalf, Father?"

The child's expression remained stoic; his eyes, reminiscent of Fugaku's, revealed little. The mention of Itachi, however, had ignited an ominous spark in them.

Fugaku stilled, his expression growing indecipherable as the room fell into an uneasy silence.

"...Of course not, Sasuke-kun," Mikoto said, steering away the boy's attention. The stare she turned to trained on Fugaku was cold and withering. "It's nothing. Nothing at all! Your father is just being silly. Ignore him."

For a long moment, Fugaku watched as his boy remained silent before suddenly nodding as if seemingly dismissing the topic entirely.

"Now that we are certain Danzo was your summoner, I will be dispelling the Edo Tensei anchoring you both to his existence," Sasuke said, smoothly changing the topic of their discussion as he took his mother's hand and led them out of the chamber they had being resummoned in. Behind was a brutalized Danzo hanging from chains attached to the ceiling.

"I am not sure what destroying the fool's soul might do to you both since he is your anchor in this plane," the child continued, displaying a profound understanding of matters that Fugaku believed should be beyond his ken yet somehow weren't. "We might have to correct that first. Still, it's nice having you back."

***

A stood alone, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the maps and scrolls adorning the walls. The chamber, usually alive with the voices of his few advisors, was steeped in silence, broken only by the soft rustle of parchment as he reviewed the latest reports from his scouts. Behind him, C and Darui exchanged tense glances while Mabui quietly assisted in keeping all the documents organised as he perused them.

The Raikage's gaze lingered on a detailed map of the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Once a formidable power, Konoha now lay vulnerable in the aftermath of Sasuke Uchiha's vengeful, worryingly effective rampage. The missing-nin had orchestrated an attack unlike any in shinobi history; even the use of politically, irreparably damaging, forbidden techniques had failed to stall the boy's ire. This and the village's weakness suddenly on display had not gone unnoticed, as evident from the alarming intelligence reports spread across the table. Sunagakure, Iwagakure, Otogakure, Takigakure, and Kirigakure—all were amassing forces, their headache-inducing intentions clear as day.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

It was so bad, that mere days had passed and the Frost Daimyo had already sent a message requesting protection for himself and his people should the fall out of the impending conflict spill into the Land of Frost.

A deep frown etched the Raikage's face. As a leader, he understood the political calculus all too well. Kumogakure could greatly benefit from capitalizing on Konoha's misfortune. It was a chance to elevate his village's standing on the world stage, ensuring prosperity and security for his people. Yet, the thought of plunging his comrades into another conflict and potentially aiding in igniting another Great Shinobi War weighed heavily on his mind.

He paced slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. A was a man of action, infamous for his decisive nature and immense physical strength. But this was a different kind of battle—a battle of strategy and foresight, where the stakes were not just the survival of his comrades, many of whom he would be sending to their deaths, but the very survival of his village.

Memories of the past wars haunted him. The loss, the pain, the endless cycle of hatred and retribution—it was a path he loathed to tread again. Yet, the pressure of his duties as the leader of Kumogakure pressed upon him. He had to consider the future of his people, and their place in a world where the dynamics of power were quickly and violently shifting.

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. Heavier. A light smattering of sweat beaded his forehead as his annoyance grew. The Raikage hated being forced into positions like this.

"Lord Raikage," Mabui said suddenly, her voice quiet, "may I offer a word of advice?"

The Raikage felt one of his brows crease in intrigue. "Of course," he rumbled. "Go ahead."

Mabui's gaze flickered from his to the scrolls and maps on the table. "We must consider the long-term implications of an invasion," she said. "Konoha may be weakened, but that does not make them helpless. Engaging them as they are would seem unwise from a tactical standpoint. Still, not engaging at all would be even more foolish if viewed from a strategic standpoint. With Konoha weak, we have to expand our territory and secure resources that would ensure Kumogakure's prosperity for generations to come. Not doing so would mean leaving those resources to others who may eventually turn them against us."

"So what are you suggesting?" A asked.

"A compromise," replied Mabui. "We amass our forces and let the eager ones, Suna, Kiri and Iwa, run head first into battle with an increasingly cornered and desperate Konoha. When all sides are sufficiently weakened, we can then decide if intervening is even worth the effort at all."

A scoffed. "The others aren't stupid," he said, casting his gaze back to the layers of raw data before him. "They will see that from miles away."

Mabui nodded. "True, but it's not like they have a choice. Suna has to strike now while Konoha is still weak lest face a vengeful leaf at a later date. Iwa wouldn't just stand by and watch as their long-time nemesis gains a monopoly of Konoha's weakness. Had Iwa and Konoha been on better terms, cooperation to put the sand back in its jar might have been on the table, but everyone knows Iwa hates Konoha almost as much as they hate Suna. Otogakure and Kirigakure are in the same boat as Sunagakure; they must strike now while the metal is still hot lest face the backlash of their actions shortly. Even if they are fully aware of our intention, what can they do about it? Not fight?"

The room fell silent as the Raikage mulled on his assistant's words.

"...You've made a compelling point, Mabui," A said finally.