In the early morning, with dew still fresh on leaves and mist lingering in the air, Takuma stood in the small farm field that had been overtaken by weeds from the lack of care. Slowly and deliberately, he practiced his hook kick. But his body moved on its own as his mind was elsewhere.

Yesterday, he had received Maruboshi’s letter and had found the earth-shattering news.

The Uchiha Clan had accused Shimura Danzo of Bloodline Theft.

The letter was fairly short, without extensive information regarding the incident, but Takuma could fill in the gap.

Maruboshi had said that Uchiha had recently lost a clan member, and their eyes had gone missing. The news floating around didn’t mention the shinobi’s name, but Maruboshi discovered that the Uchiha clan had recently lost Jonin Uchiha Shisui. Even without Maruboshi’s deduction, Takuma would’ve assumed the dead to be Uchiha Shisui.

It meant that Shisui had awakened his Mangekyo Sharingan.

He ignored the goosebumps on his arms and continued to kick forth.

Takuma realized that he was the reason why the Uchiha clan had accused Danzo of the bloodline theft. His letter to Mikoto had been largely focused on Danzo as the biggest threat to the Uchiha clan. It had been particularly harsh on the man to ensure that Mikoto would understand that the clan needed to beware of the man and his diabolical machinations.

Despite the restlessness in his heart that had kept sleep away from him last night, Takuma was glad that the Uchiha clan had taken the step. Their very public accusation would bring the spotlight on Danzo, binding his hands to an extent, preventing him from making drastic moves behind the scenes—moves like dooming the Uchiha clan.

His letter had definitely thrown Shisui and Itachi under the bus, but in Takuma’s view, it had to be done. By revealing their backdoor dealings, he had made it so that the two would suffer the ire of their clan, for they had betrayed the clan even if it was for the good of the clan and village—Shisui was already dead, and people’s opinion mellowed out when judging the dead, but Itachi was still alive. Takuma couldn’t say what steps the Uchiha clan would take against Itachi.

Takuma couldn’t ease his restlessness by throwing himself into training. The anxiety overflowed in his heart. He stopped kicking and sat on the ground with his head between his hands.

His letter to Mikoto wasn’t well thought out. He was aware of the radical consequences his letter could cause, and he had deliberately ignored everything so that Mikoto would know what was coming so she could at least protect herself.

By revealing that one of the village elders like Shimura Danzo, who was openly known for his Anti-Uchiha position, had gone ahead and stolen an eye or a pair of eyes from Uchiha Shisui—a pair of the legendary Mangekyo Sharingan—the Uchiha clan which was already dissatisfied with the village, they could be pushed over the edge and outright launch their coup against the Hidden Leaf.

Not to mention, now that the Uchiha knew that Shisui and Itachi had already communicated the clan’s plans to overthrow the current administration to the ‘enemy,’ they would be wound up tighter than ever, ready to pounce at anything that smelled slightly as a danger to the clan.

Takuma knew that he had poured fuel all over the village and had thrown a match into the mess to light the fires of unrest all over the Hidden Leaf.

He didn’t regret his letter to Mikoto, but the thoughts of ‘What-If’ plagued his mind. He had lost hours on end simply worrying, filled with anxiety, about the gravity of his actions. He had sought to protect Mikoto from a horrifying future that he knew was coming, but in doing so, he might have pushed her into another future drowning deep in danger.

‘What have I—’

“Is everything alright?”

Takuma flinched and jumped up to his feet on pure instinct. He was so deep into his thoughts that he didn’t notice someone walk behind him. With chakra flowing through his left arm and the right hand in his weapons pouch, he turned to face the voice, ready to attack whoever it was.

A few steps away from him stood Tokubetsu Jonin Benzou from Hidden Steam.

“Easy there, no need to be so jumpy,” Benzou stepped back, his hands raised in defense while showing that he didn’t mean any harm.

Takuma immediately eased up and went into an apology. “I’m sorry about that. You took me by surprise,” he said. “How may I help you, Tokubetsu Jonin Benzou?”

“I noticed you and came to see if something was wrong,” said Benzou. “May I sit with you?”

Takuma hesitated. There was a delicate balance in how Takuma needed to interact with Benzou. He needed to be respectful as Benzou was a Tokubetsu Jonin, but he couldn’t be too reverential as Benzou wasn’t Hidden Leaf shinobi as such, he didn’t have any authority over Takuma.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Please,” Takuma motioned, and the two sat down together.

“May I ask what troubles you?” asked Benzou.

“Some trouble at home,” said Takuma.

“Family?”

“I’m an orphan, sir.”

“Well, hello, fellow orphan,” Benzou smiled.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Takuma.

“Thank you, but it’s been too long.”

Takuma nodded. “What brings you here, sir? Early morning training?”

Benzou chuckled. “It’s a fault of mine, but I’m not an early riser. I couldn’t sleep last night and thought perhaps an early morning walk would do me some good.”

Takuma could wholeheartedly relate. “Something stressing you, sir? Is it the gold mine situation?”

Benzou glanced at Takuma for a moment before nodding.

“It was my first time seeing the gold mines. I was surprised by the large pit,” said Takuma.

“Hmm, did your team bring back the news?” Benzou asked, surprised.

“Yes, sir.”

“What a coincidence.”

Takuma gave a brief smile before saying, “If I’m not overstepping my boundaries, may I ask what the leadership’s current position is towards the jonin occupying the gold mines? They don’t tell genin like us much.”

“We want to take back the mines, but we don’t have the resources to defend it. Because of its value, there’s no doubt the enemy would attack it again. By simply attempting to take over, we risk losing people and then more while defending the mine from subsequent attacks,” said Benzou.

Takuma was surprised. He truly didn’t expect Benzou to answer, and he was simply making conversation. It seemed that the issue was bearing down on Benzou more than what Takuma was thinking.

He wanted to suggest that Hidden Leaf could help defend the mine, but he remembered the conversation he had with Kameko and Iori at the gold mines. There was a chance that the Hidden Steam feared that Hidden Leaf would want a cut.

“… Then how about you make it so that there’s no need to defend the gold mines,” said Takuma.

Benzou looked at Takuma in confusion. “What might you mean?”

“Destroy the infrastructure, fill up the holes, free the miners—make it so they can’t pick up the shovel and start digging. Revert the entire operation to a state where the enemy will have to bring in manpower and investment to rebuild the infrastructure and reintroduce their labor into the mines to make it functional. And if they do try to rebuild, it will take time, and we can use that time to harass them and hinder their progress, wasting their time and resources,” Takuma said nonchalantly.

“What!?” Benzou looked shocked. “How could we destroy the mine which provides the country with wealth?!”

Takuma shrugged. “It’s not doing that right now. Right now, the gold mines are funding the enemy’s war coffers while the Land of Hot Waters is not only not getting anything, but you are losing every day through opportunity cost. You can always rebuild after the war is over, but you cannot take back what the enemy has already stolen.”

From where Takuma stood, the gold mine was a past asset that had turned into a current liability. To him, it was clear that the best course of action of the least pain was to destroy the liability. If the higher-ups couldn’t balance the equation with the gold mine on it—then it was better if they took it out of the equation completely.

“You can even reduce the risk of fatality that comes with taking over the mine. The solution is already there,” Takuma said.

Benzou stared at Takuma wordlessly.

Takuma continued, “There’s an open valley which is a potential corridor into either territory. Use it as bait. Make it a decoy to lure away the troops from the gold mines, which are relatively close by, and when they’re weak, hit the mine hard and fast so they don’t know what hit them.

“It’s the type of bait-and-switch I like,” Takuma smiled.

Takuma looked at Benzou, and he could see the conflict on the man’s face. He knew where it was coming from; his time as the leader of the Narcotics Taskforce and the politics of it all had taught him a lot.

He stood up to leave.

“I understand, sir, that this idea won’t be accepted with open arms, and some might dislike you for suggesting it. But this is a war on your nation, sir. I believe it’s your duty to try everything in your power, even if it means getting burned a little,” said Takuma. “And you know…”

Benzou looked up.

Takuma smiled, “If this goes through well, you will be showered with praise, and your country will be grateful to you. It’s simple risk and reward, sir…. I will take my leave now.

“Have a good day, sir.”

———

.

Takuma sat on the floor of the living room of his house in Camp Banana. He groaned in discomfort as he followed the passive mix of chakra move through his body. It wasn’t something he had ever felt before Daiki had taught him the trick. As he focused on the natural flow to reduce the mix, he felt uncomfortable—as though he was doing something extremely wrong.

“Is it supposed to feel like this?” Takuma asked Daiki, who was nearby doing the dumbbell press exercise.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like I’m doing something I shouldn’t be.”

“You are doing something you shouldn’t be, my friend. Keep going,” said Daiki.

Takuma grunted as he slowly tried to limit the passive mix. It was a difficult task as a moment of lapse would either have the flow return straight to normal or dip down into dangerous territory. He couldn’t push harder because of the apparent death scenario through Type-2 chakra exhaustion.

It was very delicate work. He could tell that this would’ve been easier if his chakra control was better and how this could be used as an exercise to improve chakra control. A bad exercise as the risk to reward ratio was terrible.

“It becomes much easier after practice,” said Daiki.

“I know, I’m not complaining.”

“If you say so.”

Takuma chuckled with hints of irritation. “Shit!” he yelled when he lost focus, and the passive flow went back to normal. He knew that he was nowhere close to being able to use chakra masking in the field. It took too much of his focus to keep it up.

Takuma stood up and stretched his legs. He wanted to take a break and see what his water clone was doing in his room.

They suddenly heard a shout from outside their house.

“Takuma! Daiki!”

The two looked at each other, knowing who it was.

Takuma stepped out of the front door and opened it to see Anko standing in front of the building with an umbrella to shield her from the drizzle that had been pouring for hours.

“What?” he asked.

“Get ready and meet me at the house near the t-section in ten minutes. Bring Daiki with you,” said Anko. “Emergency meeting.”

“What’s it about?”

Takuma looked back to see Daiki towering behind him.

Anko replied,

“The gold mines.”