Hokage's Office – Konoha Council Meeting Room
The sky above Konoha was shrouded in gray clouds, blocking out the sun. Inside the Hokage's office, stacks of intelligence reports lay open—compiled documents from both ANBU and ROOT.
Utatane Koharu leaned back in her chair with a heavy sigh, her brow furrowed as she stared at the contents of the report in disbelief.
"This... makes no sense," she murmured, lips pursed. "If one or two of our informants had been discovered by enemy ninjas, I could chalk it up to negligence. But this? Nearly ninety percent of our contacts connected to Uzushio 'accidentally' encountered shinobi from other villages?" She turned a sharp gaze toward Hiruzen. "You know this isn't coincidence, Hiruzen."
At the end of the table, Akimichi Torifu, for the first time, wasn't munching on his chips. His face was serious, and his large hands—normally relaxed—were clenched atop the table.
"This is too clean. Too coordinated. And too quiet," he said in a heavy voice. "I don't know what the other villages are planning... but for once, I agree with Danzo. We can't just sit and hope for safety."
Hiruzen didn't respond right away. He exhaled a long plume of smoke from his pipe, then looked out the window over the village.
Silence.
Then he turned to the dark-cloaked man standing at the side of the room with his arms crossed—Danzo Shimura.
"Your thoughts, Danzo?"
Danzo showed no emotion. He stepped forward slowly but firmly.
"...This information is clearly the product of joint intelligence. They wouldn't go this far without a major plan. And any major plan involving Uzushio... can only mean one thing." He looked around at Hiruzen and the other elders. "Destruction."
Silence fell.
"If they intend to attack Uzushio," Danzo continued in a grave tone, "then we must act before they do. If we're late, we'll lose our strongest ally in fuinjutsu. We'll lose our final line of defense."
"What's your recommendation?" Homura asked quietly.
"I suggest... we send troops. Immediately. At least a thousand. And it should be led by someone with strategic mind and reputation. Orochimaru," Danzo replied.
Hiruzen lowered his head, deep in thought. "Orochimaru... yes. I agree. And Tsunade will be his second."
After over an hour of debate, the Konoha Council came to a decision.
Later That Afternoon – Konoha's Main Training Ground
On the largest training field in Konoha, a full regiment of shinobi began to assemble. A thousand ninja from various divisions lined up in disciplined formations. Most were seasoned chunin, with experienced jonin commanding each unit.
At the front stood two figures radiating formidable presence.
Orochimaru, in full jonin uniform, his snake-like eyes narrow and sharp. He stood calmly, hands behind his back, surveying the troops like a general returned to war.
Beside him, Tsunade stood with arms folded. Her gaze was stern, her expression tight with tension and resolve.
Orochimaru's voice broke the silence.
"Konoha forces... today, you're not sent to fight a war. You're sent to prevent one."
He walked slowly, eyes scanning every line of soldiers.
"Uzushio is our ally. They are the first barrier against destruction from the sea. But now, they stand at the brink. We don't know who will strike... but we know it won't take long."
Tsunade followed with a firm tone. "We're not just securing their village—we're bringing back every Konoha life we find there. No one gets left behind. This isn't a drill."
"Move fast. Strike precisely," Orochimaru said. "And stay alive."
The forces dispersed swiftly, assembling at the gates. Within an hour, they had departed at full speed. Thick clouds gathered above, as if signaling that a storm—both manmade and natural—was approaching.
Elsewhere… Far from the Village
A shadow slithered between roots and earth. It had no solid body—moving like ink in water.
It was Black Zetsu.
He stood atop a tall cliff, observing the Konoha army's movement from afar. Not even the best sensor ninja could detect him. He wasn't human. He was a living will—the darkness of the world's past.
"They took the bait," he whispered, his voice deep and void-like.
He looked toward the distant sea, and the still-quiet village of Uzushio. "Go on... make your choices, humans. Burn everything. Destroy each other. You're all just pieces on a board."
He chuckled softly. "All I need is time. Just a little more... and it will all be over. Madara's Rinnegan... is almost ready."
Then, Zetsu melted back into the earth—vanishing as if he had never existed. No one knew that the invisible hand had already begun nudging the shinobi world toward an age of destruction.
As night fell, war drew quietly near.
Back to Team 6
The evening sky hung above a quiet village. A thin fog floated low, wrapping around dirt roads and the wooden rooftops weathered by time. At the village gate, three young Genin stood with a wild-haired Jonin beside them—Jiraiya.
From the simple home of the village chief, an elderly man emerged. His white beard framed a lined face, his back slightly hunched but his eyes still sharp. He wore traditional village attire and walked with the help of a wooden cane.
"Welcome to our village... My name is Gento. I'm the village chief," he said, his voice raspy but warm.
Jiraiya stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Thank you for having us, Gento-san. We're from Konoha, sent to deal with the recent bandit reports in your area."
Gento nodded and invited them into his modest home. Inside, the scent of firewood and herbal tea filled the air. They sat on tatami mats.
"For the past two weeks," Gento explained, "these bandits have shown up more and more. They don't just steal crops… they intimidate the villagers, even injuring some of our younger men who tried to fight back. We're worried… they might bring ninja next."
"How many of them are there, approximately?" Jiraiya asked seriously.
"At least ten... maybe more. They hide in the forest east of the village. But we don't dare approach them. Those who tried never came back," Gento replied, lowering his head.
Jiraiya nodded slowly. "Thank you, Gento-san. Leave the rest to us."
Outside the Village – Near the Field
After leaving the village chief's house, Jiraiya gathered his three students near the empty training field at the edge of the village.
"Alright, listen up," he said, his tone more formal than usual. "The chief's info isn't enough. We don't know if this group includes any shinobi. And as ninja, you should understand—nothing is deadlier than overconfidence."
The three Genin nodded.
Mizuki stood at the front with her arms folded, dressed in her crisp white kimono. Her long black hair was tied neatly behind her head. Her gaze was calm and sharp—like a frozen lake surface.
Dekai stood to her right, wearing a dark brown shinobi jacket. His face remained stoic, though his right hand clenched slightly.
Minato, on the left, looked focused. His clear blue eyes shone beneath his signature white jacket.
"For this mission," Jiraiya continued, folding his arms, "I won't interfere—unless things get truly dangerous. You three will handle it as a team. And Mizuki—you're the team leader."
Minato and Dekai glanced at Mizuki, who remained silent.
Mizuki raised a delicate eyebrow, then asked cautiously, "May I ask why, sensei?"
Jiraiya grinned. "Because you're the calmest, the most logical… and also, because I want to see how far Danzo's student can think when she's in charge."
"Understood," Mizuki replied shortly. She turned to her teammates. "Let's start with task assignments."
Dekai sat atop a weathered bamboo fence, arms folded. "I'm best suited to patrol the perimeter. Stealth and nighttime surveillance."
"I can head into the village and speak with the people," added Minato. "They'll open up more to me. Besides... I'm not as scary-looking as you two."
Mizuki nodded. "Good. Minato, gather intel from the villagers—especially any signs of ninja involvement. Dekai, watch the eastern forest and lay a few basic traps if necessary. I'll do a recon sweep tonight using the Byakugan."
"But Mizuki," Minato said, turning toward her, "isn't it too risky for you to go alone?"
"I have the Byakugan, speed, and weapons. And I won't engage. It's just observation. If there are real shinobi there, I'll retreat," she replied calmly.
Jiraiya smiled quietly from where he stood.'They're still young, but they're learning how to function as a team. This will be an important lesson…'
Before they parted ways, Jiraiya added, "One more thing—don't treat this as just a C-rank mission. In the real world, information can lie. Treat every threat as high-level danger. Don't end up being names on a memorial stone."
The three Genin nodded in unison, eyes filled with tension and understanding of their responsibilities.
Night – Edge of the Bandit Camp
The night sky was blanketed in dark clouds, hiding the moon. The smell of damp earth and burning wood drifted faintly from the western forest—where the bandit camp was hidden, a place they had scouted carefully for the past two days.
Minato, Dekai, and Mizuki stood under the shadow of a large tree, having returned from their separate intel-gathering assignments. They reported one by one in front of Jiraiya, who leaned against the trunk, arms crossed, listening with a relaxed yet razor-sharp focus.
"There's no sign of chakra spikes or jutsu usage in the area," Mizuki said softly. "No traps either. Just standard weapons and campfires."
"Twelve targets total," Minato added. "Seven guards outside, five inside the main tent. They seem like former mercenaries… but not shinobi."
Dekai nodded. "I planted two tripwires and one light trap along their exit routes. If they try to escape, we'll know."
Jiraiya listened in silence, then looked up and said casually, "Good. Then... eliminate them."
Minato's eyes widened. "We... we're doing it ourselves?"
Jiraiya looked at them calmly, his eyes reflecting the night. "You all confirmed they aren't ninja. This isn't a drill. This is a mission. You're shinobi—not kids playing tag in the village yard."
Mizuki didn't flinch, though her eyes narrowed slightly.
Dekai stared at the ground, letting out a deep sigh. "You know this'll be our first time…"
"I know," Jiraiya interrupted. "And that's why I won't interfere. You need to face this yourselves."
There was a moment of silence. The night wind rustled the leaves, and thin fog crept along the ground.
Finally, Mizuki spoke, voice flat. "Alright. Let's get it done. The sooner we finish, the sooner we go home."
Minato turned toward her, tension clear in his eyes—but he said nothing. He knew... this was part of the ninja path.
Bandit Camp – Midnight
Without a sound, three shadows darted between trees. Minato swung through the trees, preparing two tethered kunai. Dekai approached from the left, melting into the darkness. Mizuki moved behind the tents, a sharp blade already in hand.
The first guard went down silently—Dekai's kunai slashing cleanly across his throat. No scream.
Minato leapt down, dragging two guards into the bushes and knocking them out with the blunt side of his weapons. But when one started to cry out... Minato stabbed him in the chest. Stillness. Warm blood hit his hand.
Mizuki slipped between tents, spotting a large man chewing dried meat. One precise throw—shuriken embedded in his throat. He slumped forward. Mizuki held her breath, eyes blank.
'This... this isn't training,' she thought. 'This is real. I just killed someone.'
But there was no time to dwell on it.
The main tent opened. Five more bandits sensed something was wrong—but too late.
Minato threw two smoke bombs. In the thick haze, Dekai tackled one to the ground and drove a kunai into his back.
Mizuki danced through the smoke, her strikes precise—one to the throat, one to the heart. Quiet. Swift. Clean.
In less than five minutes... the camp fell silent.
Blood soaked into the ground, mixing with the ashes of dying campfires. Three young Genin stood amid the wreckage, their chests rising and falling, their faces drawn tight.
Mizuki stared at her blood-covered hands. They didn't shake—but her chest felt heavy.
Minato sat down, eyes skyward. "I... didn't expect it to feel like this."
Dekai perched on a log, hugging his knees. "They were bandits. But still... they were people."
Mizuki took a deep breath. "Don't think about it for too long. Hesitation gets you killed. I don't want to see your names on the memorial stone."
They fell silent. But her words stayed with them.
Later – Outside the Camp
Jiraiya stood at the forest edge, watching his students return. Their steps were slow—but their eyes... older.
"How does it feel?" Jiraiya asked softly.
No one answered.
Mizuki was the first to meet his gaze and replied quietly, "This is our world, isn't it?"
Jiraiya nodded. "Yes. A cruel world. But... you made it through."
They didn't smile. They didn't celebrate.
That night... they slept in silence. And the next morning, they returned to the village, gave a brief report to the chief—who cried with gratitude—and left.
The journey home felt longer. Because for the first time, they didn't just carry their bodies back...
They carried the weight of a shinobi's soul.