It was morning on the other side of the Chigiri sea. The weathered merchant sloop we appeared on wobbled on the choppy, crimson waves. The cries of the bewildered crew rose up around us, but we paid them no mind, our gaze fixed on the encroaching coastline ahead.
Even a backwater like Kirigakure could look beautiful in the red light of dawn.
“This jutsu you stole,” Orochimaru said behind us, his voice like a whisper carried by the sea breeze. “It’s really convenient. I suppose you wouldn’t mind sharing it with me?”
“If you have something of comparable worth, I’m willing to trade.”
We ignored the Sannin’s smile as we leapt from the boat, our feet skimming over the surface of the water as we jogged the remaining distance to the coast. When we reached the shore, shadowy figures stepped forward from the mist to block our path.
ANBU.
A man in a grey cloak, his face hidden behind a demon mask, took a step forward. “State your business,” he said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. “If you have the necessary documents to be here, present them now.”
We ignored the group, letting Orochimaru handle them. His demeanour remained slick, his smile unruffled. “I’m afraid we have no such papers,” he said.
The group tensed, recognition slowly spreading through them like a chill.
Annoyed, we kicked the sannin in the shin.
He sighed, casting a sidelong glare at us. Spoilsport, he muttered under his breath before turning back to the uneasy ANBU.
“We are here to see Mei,” he said. “Tell her Orochimaru seeks an audience.”
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In a dimly lit chamber beneath the heart of the Hidden Mist Village, the air hung thick with tension. The walls bore the marks of age, stone marred by time and secrets kept. Mei Terumi, the Mizukage, sat at the head of an ancient stone table. Her dark blue dress clung closely, her crimson hair flowing like a river of smouldering flames. To her right sat Chojuro, loyal yet timid, his legendary sword Hiramekarei resting at his side, eyes shifting vigilantly. To her left, Ao, his singular eye hidden beneath an eyepatch, stared unblinkingly at the Sannin and his associate, suspicion etched into his features.
Mei frowned, studying Orochimaru as he lounged lazily opposite her. His pallid skin and serpent-like eyes seemed an affront, a reminder of the serpent's unsettling presence. Beside him sat his associate, a young Uchiha, who met Mei's gaze with disconcerting calm. His onyx eyes seemed to carry an inscrutable weight, and much to Mei's discomfort, his presence elicited a subtle deference from the Sannin himself. Behind them, a woman in a plain grey kimono stood silently, her arms folded over her stomach, her presence as enigmatic as her master.
"Why are you here, Orochimaru?" Mei asked, folding her arms beneath her chest, leaning back in her chair.
The Sannin smiled, his lips curling slightly. "Me? Oh, don't mind me," he drawled. "Sasuke simply dragged me along to ensure you treat his proposal with the appropriate gravitas. My purpose here is mostly ornamental."
Of course, Mei didn't believe him. The lie was too blatant, almost insulting. But she didn't comment on it. Instead, she turned her attention to the Uchiha, her curiosity piqued by whatever scheme had brought them here.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice cold.
The Uchiha blinked once, tilting his head ever so slightly, his gaze unwavering. For a moment, Mei almost felt a blush threaten her composure, but she buried it deep beneath her mistrust.
"Mizukage," the boy began, his voice smooth, "what if I told you I could elevate Kirigakure's economic status to rival, or even surpass, Konoha's within nine months?"
The silence that followed was palpable. Even Orochimaru seemed momentarily surprised, his eyes flickering towards the boy, perhaps questioning his boldness. Ao sniffed, a gesture too subtle to be considered overtly disrespectful. Elder Genji, seated further down the table, showed no such restraint, his staff clattering against the stone floor.
"You reach too high, boy," the old man rasped, his voice trembling with age. Mei placed a hand on the elder's staff, her eyes never leaving Sasuke's.
"If you told me that, Uchiha, I'd say you're delusional. Very much so."
Surprisingly, Sasuke merely nodded in response. He turned slightly, gesturing to the woman behind him. She bowed, pulling a scroll from her sleeve and moving forward to hand it to Ao, who reluctantly passed it to Mei. Mei frowned, unfurling it.
"That," Sasuke said, "is proof of my ownership of an exclusive defence contract covering seventy per cent of the northern and central shipping lanes, ports, and naval facilities belonging to the Jinrui Shipping Company for the next twenty years. You can verify its authenticity later, but for the sake of discussion, let's assume it's real."
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
A hushed silence fell over the room. Ao's face twisted in disbelief. "Impossible," he said, his tone dismissive. "Mizukage-sama, I believe it's time these people leave. Or better yet, be detained for attempting to deceive us."
Mei stared at the scroll, then back at Sasuke, the disbelief clear in her eyes.
"I hear," Sasuke continued, "that Kiri's been struggling to secure a tangible defence contract with Jinrui's company, something about the Water Daimyō meddling to keep rebellious clans placated and Kiri from gaining independence. The contract in your hands covers assets outside the Land of Water's borders, beyond the Daimyō's reach."
"How did you get this?" Mei asked, her voice low. She knew the value of the scroll—in the right hands, it could elevate Kiri's economy to unprecedented heights.
"Jinrui owed my clan a favour," Sasuke replied.
Mei studied him for a long moment before speaking again. "What do you want, Uchiha?"
The boy smiled, his lips curving just enough to hint at something more.
"Accomplices, Lady Terumi," he said, his gaze unwavering. "I want accomplices."
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Tsunade crossed the threshold of the inner council hall, and the noise vanished for an instant. The sound-repelling seals worked like a silencing curtain, muting the world beyond. Yet, once fully inside, the din returned — loud, furious voices that filled the room. She kept her eyes ahead, her stride measured as she moved towards her seat. The council chamber was largely unchanged, mostly as she remembered it, save for the newer additions. A large circular table dominated the room, with lanterns casting their flickering light upon twenty-two seats, each occupied by a key figure of the village. At the head of it, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat, his face lined, betraying an expression that seemed to echo the sentiment of the village: exhausted.
The meeting was chaos, a cacophony of discontent. The tension was palpable, distrust clearly etched into the faces of at least half the clan heads. Shibi Aburame, Chōza Akimichi, Hiashi Hyuga, Shikaku Nara — every major clan was represented. Even Yakumo Kurama, the young heiress, and Hakuto, the foreign-born representative of the Hōki family, sat there silently, the former appearing almost bored, the latter uneasy.
Tsunade settled into the empty chair next to Tobirama Senju.
"You’re late," her granduncle stated, his voice flat and without warmth. His undead presence seemed almost to heighten the tension, an unwelcome reminder of what had been done to bring him here.
"This is a bloody mess," Tsunade whispered.
Tobirama grunted. His gaze scanned the room, taking in the arguing figures around the table. "True."
The arguments rolled on, harsh voices biting into the stale air. Steel-eyed glares pinned Hiruzen Sarutobi and what remained of his council; faces filled with anger, suspicion. Tsunade listened, but only half-heartedly. The accusations, the distrust—it was all warranted, and that was what made it worse. The evidence of deception, the realization that even now the future of the village hung in the balance.
"We should postpone the exams," Chōza Akimichi was saying, his voice rising above the noise, his tone the kind of forced calm that masked genuine concern.
Hiashi Hyuga nodded. "Agreed. We cannot afford the risk."
"Is the boy truly such a threat?" Ichiro Suzumeno asked, almost to himself.
"He fought Lord Second to a standstill," Inoichi Yamanaka replied, his voice heavy. "He’s dangerous."
"I know that," Ichiro countered. "But perhaps we’re overestimating—"
The council chamber stilled as Tobirama’s gaze snapped towards Ichiro, reducing the man to a stuttering halt. A powerful chakra-infused aura descended upon the room, a cold, almost suffocating reminder of who they were dealing with.
"That boy," Tobirama said, his voice barely more than a hiss, "Lethally struck me three times in a three-minute battle. Had I truly been alive, I would have died—three times. He matched my speed, fought me with one arm, and I was forced to retreat." He paused, his glare sweeping over the council. "Who among you can claim the same?"
Silence followed. No one dared speak.
"Underestimating Sasuke Uchiha," Tobirama went on, "would be the gravest mistake you could make."
His words hung in the air, a chilling warning. As he withdrew his aura, shutting his eyes, Tsunade could feel the room exhale.
"How certain are we that Sasuke will attack during the exams?" Shibi Aburame’s voice was steady, though the faint chittering of his insects betrayed him.
"About thirty per cent," Shikaku Nara replied, his brow furrowed. "An informant at the Coliseum saw Sasuke alongside Orochimaru. Later, the pair were seen meeting with En Oyashiro. Hours after that, sleeper agents in Kirigakure reported seeing them enter the village to meet with the Mizukage—and leaving, apparently in good spirits."
"The Coliseum is on the other side of the Chigiri sea," Ichiro pointed out. "How could they—"
Tsunade sighed. "A reverse summoning would solve the issue of distance," she said, rubbing her temple. "The real question is how quickly this alliance formed. Is there any record of prior contact between Kirigakure and the Uchiha?"
Inoichi looked towards Hiruzen, a pointed silence that carried its own accusation.
Hiruzen shook his head. "None," he said. "But that they are allied at all does not bode well for us. Both bear grudges against Konoha, both are immensely powerful—which is why I’ve decided against postponing the exams."
The room fell silent. The shock was palpable.
"What?" Tsunade leaned forward, her voice incredulous. "...Are you using the exams as bait?"
The Third nodded. "Yes. This is an opportunity for us to be proactive in our response."
Tsunade shook her head, disbelief and frustration warring within her. "You’re gambling with the lives of everyone here—again. You and your council made this mess. And why is Danzo—" she shot a glare at the old war hawk, who remained impassive—"still allowed to sit here?"
"I represent the Shimura clan," Danzo replied, his tone devoid of emotion.
Tsunade was ready to retort, but another voice spoke up—soft, calm, and laced with a quiet bitterness. "Ignoring Sasuke Uchiha, Orochimaru, and the possible invasion," Yakumo Kurama said, "are we to expect more clans being wiped out at the whim of this council?"
Silence fell again, a thick, uneasy quiet.
The young heiress looked at Hiruzen, her expression almost detached. "You’ve served long enough, Lord Third. Let the clans choose a new leader—one who can unite us. One who wouldn't order the erasure of entire clans simply because it was convenient. Unfortunate as it might seem, many here do not trust that you have their best interests in mind."
"Perhaps it’s time for a change."