The Awakened Soul (Naruto SI)

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter

 

[Welydora]

The moment I shifted into Shikkotsu Forest, I felt damp soil beneath my feet as a faint acidic scent hit my nose. Looking around, I was greeted by arches and curved obelisks filling the space, bone-like structures overgrown with fluorescent moss. All of it in a dim setting, as though it were evening outside.

Unusual, I noted. Though I suppose that's how it should be in another world?

The Forest of Damp Bones. A very fitting name.

Originally, I'd come here to study senchakra, but I decided to explore my surroundings first. Approaching one of the bone-trees, I ran my hand over the cool, damp moss.

So it's not actually bone after all, the thought crossed my mind. Just calcium deposits from slug secretions. How many years have they lived here to build all this?

Hopping onto a large bone, I surveyed the forest stretching for kilometers beyond the horizon.

My exploration didn't last long, though. My hearing picked up movement just over a kilometer away…

A blink, and I found myself before a fairly large slug, roughly my size, resting on a rib that hung suspended above the ground. And it… differed from the Katsuyu I remembered: the body of the slug before me was simply translucent.

"Hello," I greeted in a friendly tone, and a pair of eyestalks slowly turned toward me without so much as a flinch, the creature's eyes resting at their tips.

"Greetings, Uzumaki-san…" came a very soft, and what seemed to me, shy female voice. "Katsuyu was expecting you closer. We are far from the Heart."

"Oh, so Tsunade actually bothered to give a heads-up about me, rather than just handing over the scroll. Nice."

"I know little. Tsunade-san spoke with the main consciousness. But for those like us, it's difficult to receive much information… It's troublesome."

"Those like you?" I clarified.

"I don't think it would be useful for you to hear about the life of simple slugs," the little slug deflected with apparent embarrassment, steering away from the topic. "You need to go that way." She turned, indicating a direction with one eyestalk. "You won't miss the right place; it… stands out. But if you stray from the path, just wait. Those like me will find you and show the way. Also… don't approach the transparent lakes. The acid there is incredibly strong. Even the fumes will kill you… Good luck on your journey…"

Modestly finishing her instructions, she continued watching me with the same expression.

I told her something along the lines of, okay, I won't force you to talk if you don't want to, and hopped off in the indicated direction. Just like a regular shinobi, only way stronger, so my leaps carried me hundreds of meters at a time. Along the way, I did encounter the mentioned lakes, which I gave a wide berth.

After covering twenty kilometers, I was met with the sight of a massive, simply colossal ribcage belonging to some unknown creature, over seven hundred meters in height alone. In the mild gloom, the glowing moss that covered these "bones," just as it covered everything else around, looked especially enchanting.

Soon, I approached the entrance of this enormous structure, right up to large, wide-open gates that appeared to be made of bone. Around it were huge thoroughfares crafted from the same material, and in the distance, many smaller buildings. There were also a lot of slugs moving in every direction, though most of them looked the way I remembered: white with three blue stripes running the length of their bodies.

One of the latter, about four times my height, smoothly slid up to me.

"Uzumaki-san," I heard a voice slightly different from the other slug's. Still soft, but less timid, maybe? "I've been waiting for you. Call me Katsuyu."

"A pleasure to meet you. Life's really bustling around here, huh?" I said, smoothly taking another look around.

"Shikkotsu Forest requires constant supervision… so that anomalies don't occur. We take care to ensure this world is safe for both us and our guests. But let's move to the main body."

I agreed, and we headed inside. This "Heart" wasn't the kind of structure familiar to humans, not like the toads' buildings. It was far more natural and unified with nature, its interior completely filled with greenery.

After walking about half a kilometer, we entered a massive hall. On a small green pedestal sat a low, black basin, and inside it was a slug body with the exact same coloring as my guide… Only the size! She was enormous!

I'd previously thought the toad bosses were big, but this Katsuyu's body was about four times larger! Her head towered hundreds of meters high, making me look really, really small next to her.

The basin itself was much larger, and the ceiling even higher, so this slug could comfortably fit here even if she were several times bigger.

Walking up, I craned my neck back and waved to her in greeting.

"So, I came to learn the Slug Sage Mode. Will you teach me?"

"Tsunade-san said you would come with this request, Uzumaki-san…" the same voice came from the larger version of Katsuyu. Now, however, worry had crept into her timbre. "But I see you've already mastered three types of senchakra… Each natural energy seeks to transform the vessel in its own image. A-are you sure you can resist?"

"Quite."

Instead of verbal proof, I gave a visual demonstration. Black lines, like cracks, instantly surfaced across my face as three types of senchakra invaded my body simultaneously.

"This is remarkable…" my conversant above seemed to whisper. "Usually, you humans evoke feelings of interest and affection in me… So warlike, yet so fragile. Only a handful among you are even capable of touching natural energy. Only to die a terrible death…"

"You could say I've spurned weakness," I replied, spreading my hands, then exited Sage Mode. "I'm all ears, Katsuyu-san."

"Very well. I will fulfill Tsunade-san's wishes," she said, and began her explanation.

Since ancient times, Shikkotsu Forest had been the summoning contract of the Senju clan. Having gone through so much with that family, Katsuyu held deep loyalty to the last Senju, Tsunade.

Slug senjutsu didn't have a specific human-oriented style. The shinobi who could have developed one were simply too few, and even those struggled terribly with the natural energy itself, spending all their focus just trying not to die. Inventing a style and techniques was a long way off for them. The slugs themselves weren't a warlike race, but rather a utilitarian one. Or rather, Katsuyu herself was…

The primary ability of slug senjutsu, which unfortunately only worked fully on the slugs themselves, was division. In fact, almost all the slugs were one being: Katsuyu! She had simply divided herself. But she could gather back together, reaching a size roughly ten times that of a toad boss.

When divided, each part of Katsuyu maintained an incredibly strong and broad connection with her. This was another ability of slug senjutsu. Through this connection, they could transmit chakra and communicate directly, and all of it worked across any distance on an Earth-like planet, as well as between dimensions.

Naturally, there was also the fact that slugs, and by extension their senchakra, had a massive predisposition for regeneration. In seconds, Katsuyu could split into thousands of slugs, then reassemble just as quickly.

As for combat, the slugs basically only had acid. Very corrosive, by the way, and they could shoot it in a wide or concentrated stream. But that was it.

Having told me about the peculiarities of her senchakra, Katsuyu suggested I head to the Silent Cavities. That was what they called the caves in this world where senchakra condensed. In some of them, though, alongside the senchakra, there were densely placed acid lakes. Humans were better off not wandering this world on their own; it was dangerous. But they'd take me to a safe spot.

However, I decided to propose a simpler route: have Katsuyu separate a small slug from herself and personally transmit a bit of senchakra through it to me.

That's what we tried, and with her full assistance, it took me only about ten seconds, even without clones, to grasp how to absorb yet another type of senchakra.

A new sensation again, a kind of slickness this time, as if my body had been slathered in top-grade lubricant. Felt like if I wanted, I could squeeze through the narrowest of openings.

"Now let's try all of them…" I wanted to absorb every type of senchakra, and soon enough I… succeeded, with mixed results. "Whoa. Now I look like some kind of poisonous dart frog…"

I commented on the pigmentation that had bloomed across my face from all four natural energies, covering it entirely in markings. Not by my choice. Four types of senchakra were simply too much even for me right now, and my body had taken on somewhat bestial traits.

My skin became genuinely slimy, and I could feel my canines growing in, along with an acidic tang in my mouth.

"Ptui." I spat out the accumulated saliva, and where it hit, a small patch of grass inside the Heart began hissing, as though melting everything beneath it. But it stopped soon after.

"Are you alright, Uzumaki-san?" Katsuyu asked with concern.

"More or less…"

Those weren't the only changes. My fingernails had grown out, sharpening to points, and my body had become just slightly, toad-like in its mass. The last one was only visible from the slight thickening of my limbs.

Not exactly some eldritch abomination; my human features still substantially predominated. But the absorbed power thrummed through my entire being. Like shouldering a heavy mace. But if you got a good swing going, the impact would be devastating.

Studying the changes in myself, I extended my hand out in front of me… And then my palm, along with part of my wrist, simply dropped onto the grass.

Seeing this, Katsuyu rippled with alarm.

"Everything's fine," I preempted her reaction. "Turns out the slugs' division ability works better than expected."

Meanwhile, my hand in the grass pushed itself up on its fingers, as if it were still part of me. Wiggling them, it attempted some clumsy little dance, then quickly scrambled up my pant leg and reattached to its original spot with a hiss.

"See?" I showed the slug that my hand was perfectly fine.

"This… is more than previous human sages could demonstrate."

"Thanks for the praise. And… hmm. I feel like with practice, I'll be able to adapt and hold all four types of senchakra just fine. I think my limit is six. Do you happen to know of any other sage animals besides toads and snakes?"

Katsuyu silently lowered her eye-antennae. That alone was more than enough to convey her emotions. "…No."

"A pity. Then, will you tell me more about this place?"

She agreed, glad for the chance to move away from what she'd just witnessed.

Katsuyu didn't know if there were other slugs out there besides her. Sentient ones, that is. She had been born over a thousand years ago as the renewed consciousness of an older slug just like herself. When Katsuyu eventually aged, which wouldn't be anytime soon since her lifespan spanned several millennia, she would sort of cocoon, and from the old slug's body a new one would emerge, with a different personality.

Theoretically, every part currently connected to Katsuyu could be reborn as a different slug.

Long ago, when she first reincarnated… this world had been different. Much more aggressive, completely flooded with acid, with only remnants of life remaining. Katsuyu suspected that perhaps there had been many slugs before her, but her predecessor had simply devoured them all. And then, having lived in an empty world for some time, decided to pass on herself.

Because of that, Katsuyu found motivation to live differently. The world she was born into was unpleasant to her, and the world itself was hostile right back. So, to avoid ending her existence just as meaninglessly, Katsuyu became the architect of this world.

Year after year, being colossally huge from birth and capable of using the local senchakra, she used her smaller clones to physically move the acid, pooling it into large lakes, thereby freeing up most of the space for vegetation. She also meditated, filtering the senchakra of the entire world, which had been too aggressive for the world to recover quickly on its own.

And so, year after year, this world transformed.

Later, after a couple of millennia, several humans managed to get here. A few sentient beings, deciding to bind themselves with chakra for safety, rushed into a reverse summoning and ended up in this world.

Katsuyu was curious about other creatures. Until then, she had seen nothing but plants in this world, no one sentient.

Sending out a small clone, she discovered that the newcomers were quite friendly, and their temperaments meshed well with hers.

Allocating a space for the new residents, the slug coexisted with them for hundreds of years. And over time, she noted, those who could come to this world became increasingly warlike… Not toward Katsuyu, just in general.

Not too long ago, about a hundred and some years back, the Senju begged the slug to occasionally help them in battles in their world. And Katsuyu, having grown quite attached to them by then, almost like pets… didn't refuse.

However, not much came of it. Katsuyu's clones couldn't significantly help in battle, and very few could summon her massive form. And even sheer size wasn't that useful; more the opposite, actually.

Generally, Katsuyu was always summoned in parts. Tsunade, for instance, could summon a tenth of her, which was about the size of a toad boss. But summoning all of Katsuyu was inadvisable: it wouldn't significantly boost her combat power, while her mobility would drop substantially. Plus, as long as the main part of the slug remained in her world, she was immortal and could regenerate. The optimal size, right around a toad boss, let her produce enough acid for damage while maintaining mobility and immortality. Though with her regeneration and ability to divide, killing Katsuyu was extremely difficult regardless.

But the Senju wanted to make the slug stronger. That was how the different slug variants came to be. Previously, Katsuyu hadn't created new varieties of herself since she saw no particular need. Later, humans filled her desire for communication. But eventually, the slug allowed them to experiment on her small parts.

The Senju tried grafting parts of other animals onto the slugs, artificially inducing mutations through chakra exposure, and doing other selective breeding. But they achieved very little.

Most of the variants simply died, which made Katsuyu sad. Those that survived were often very weak and either soon met the same fate, or simply lived out incomplete existences.

In the end, after years, only a handful of more or less successful variants remained today. But even those were fundamentally flawed, incapable of surviving outside Shikkotsu Forest.

There was the Sayu variant, the translucent sensor slugs, like the first one I'd met in this world. Although their sensory abilities weren't all that impressive. Besides them, there were many with various bone-like growths; some of them literally looked like mobile basins, and those were handy for transporting acid. Others had additional front limbs with hard claws, similar to a lizard's. And this whole menagerie could fluctuate in size fairly well.

As it turned out, the modified slugs could only survive in this world if they retained at least some sufficient connection to Katsuyu. They were dependent on her; without her chakra, they'd die. And they were also quite similar to her in temperament.

These slugs connected to her, but not her clones, Katsuyu could reproduce, gradually increase or decrease in size, and give commands to. In practice, Katsuyu held absolute power here, because even if someone rebelled, nothing would come of it. And "rebellions" almost never happened here, considering that all the slugs shared their leader's calm temperament, and on top of that were completely dependent on her.

Ultimately, a full-fledged settlement had formed here. Somewhat similar to an ant colony, but even more devoted to its purpose.

When Katsuyu finished her story and received my thanks, she gave me a clone to show me the way to one more place.

This was the Hall of Contracts, or as the slugs more practically called it, the Bone Rotunda. A large, dome-shaped building of interwoven bones. Stepping inside and seeing the interior, I was surprised to note it was far more human-like. The floor was level, still bone, but without vegetation. Inside were various rooms, the most notable being the Senju library, where they'd mostly left records on slug breeding, and the summoning hall that shared the building's name. The latter was a round room in the center of the building, with a seal on the floor and a small raised platform in the middle. This mechanism facilitated summoning in both directions, and logically, if I had signed the contract with the slugs and properly used the summoning technique, I would've appeared right here. But my great intellect preferred to simply figure out where this world was from the scroll and tear a portal open at random.

With that, my journey to the slug world was over. I returned home and spent a couple of days mulling over the data I'd gathered, while also constantly bugging Orochimaru to share his.

And when I got a little tired of that, just a tiny bit, I switched gears.

Namely, I relaunched cycles of trials on test subjects, this time to address the problem of soul mortality.

Katsuyu had an immortal body; I'd studied that at some point out of curiosity. But her soul still aged over time; I'd tracked that through her emanations as well. Sure, thousands of years was way better than a human's hundred, but I wanted much greater limits for my loved ones.

Except it didn't work right away. The hole problem remained. To strengthen the soul's core, I needed to reach it, boring holes with my energy. But life with those holes was impossible.

I needed to find a way to either force the soul to regenerate… or shove the necessary energy in without damaging it. And the first, as it turned out, I could pull off.

There's a rule in this world: don't know how to do something, throw more juice at it. With care, of course, and accounting for a whole bunch of other factors. But in general terms, that's it. So, by pumping a literal kiloton of my soul energy into one test subject on my lab's surgical table, pouring in nearly all my knowledge of healing, I managed to get some kind of result after about a week. But, unfortunately, it was highly questionable.

Fortunately, the parallel development of the second stage of body enhancement was going better. Though even there, the result was only just starting to come together into a complete picture.

---

If you enjoyed my work, feel free to check out my Patreon. There you can read up to 20 chapters ahead and get early access to any new stuff that I publish

 

[AAAustinYu]

It's nice how you make lore

 

[Lillie Jones]

impressive
Thanks for the chapter

 

[Welydora]

A month and a half had passed since the attack on Konoha. And during that time, aside from my excursions to the worlds of beasts capable of senjutsu, a few other things had happened.

Beyond the routine outings, sometimes alone, sometimes with the girls, just to breathe and not go insane from the grind, my clones and I had accomplished a colossal amount of work: the experiments with souls had passed a critical stage, and the refinement of the second stage of body enhancement was complete.

With souls, it was the same as always: the deeper you dig, the more you wish the universe came with an instruction manual. But it doesn't.

The soul is a fragile thing. Especially someone else's. Not poetically, but literally. A mistake of a fraction of a percent, and you're watching it writhe in agony...

The path that led me to a method for regenerating another person's soul turned out to be unconventional for me, but quite ordinary for science. Animals. People are harder and noisier to procure, while rats and macaques don't ask questions. The clones handled the dirty, monotonous work: systematically damaging the outer shell of souls in whatever they could get their hands on and watching how they healed. Cruel? Undoubtedly. But it no longer bothered me.

Ultimately, after pouring in kilotons of energy, we found that the aura's outer shell could be regenerated at an accelerated rate by channeling energy with the right complex of properties into it... but only through my own soul energy. It wasn't quite on par with chakra in terms of raw power yet, but it already packed a damn good punch, and on top of that it remained far more "neutral": it had fewer distinct properties, making it easier to fine-tune. The experiments themselves were necessary precisely to obtain the data for that fine-tuning.

But when I went deeper, to the core... all hell broke loose.

It was as if souls had an extremely paranoid antivirus built into them: touch the wrong thing, and the system starts screaming, biting back, and destroying itself. When I tried to regenerate someone else's core using the same principle as the aura, the test subjects howled even under anesthesia. Grooves literally spread across the outer core, as if worms were crawling inside, leaving behind dozens of bumpy scar-lines all over the surface.

Technically, the regeneration did work: the outer core really did restore itself. Except this "restoration" broke the person. Waking up with a worn, scarred core, the subjects would immediately start whimpering from constant pain. They couldn't sleep without heavy-duty drugs and gradually went insane.

I reached a point where I could "program" my soul energy well enough: making it nutritious, making it absorb on its own. But it still had to be delivered through a probe that punched a hole in the core. And that hole needed to heal. And even after healing, the bumps didn't go away, and the patients still felt just as fucked.

And they didn't give a damn that their soul had grown stronger, or that their potential for energy control had increased along with it. No, after the enhancement, the regeneration actually caused slightly more damage than without it.

In the end, I had found a way to strengthen the soul... but it was janky. It was easier to kill a person than to put them through that. It wasn't suitable for my girls.

There were two paths to solving this problem. I either needed to become many times, possibly an order of magnitude, stronger so I could bend reality better and make everything work the way I wanted. Or I needed more data, and instead of bashing my head against a metal door, I needed to find where the damn handle was. The first path required time, possibly a lot of it. But it didn't interfere with the second. So that's what I focused on.

Therefore, the experiments in this area continued. And this particular kind of research, learning to heal hypersensitive human soul cores, required specifically human souls.

Fortunately, material was in ample supply.

Having the former, albeit severely weakened, head of Root under my command was a certain kind of power. Having Orochimaru nearby was even greater power. For the Snake, cooperating with Danzo was no problem: combining data, utilizing the latter's people and their connections, they brought me not just animals, but several thousand hardened criminals. That many punks with numbers tattooed on their foreheads... yeah, I was pleased. I still felt neither hatred nor pleasure toward them. They simply became a resource.

I was also delighted by the knowledge of my brainy snake. Exploiting him to the fullest, putting him to work helping me with the second stage, I sometimes only regretted that I still had some morals left and hadn't enslaved Tsunade for the exact same purpose. The Slug Princess still hadn't shown up in Konoha... Apparently, my negotiating skills aren't quite as high as I think. Or she just went on a bender and got lost.

The second stage of body enhancement was something I'd actually managed to complete during this month and a half. I needed a body more powerful than my current one. Even denser, more resilient, capable of withstanding far more senchakra. Because this time, I was building it specifically for that.

In this body, four types of senchakra were fully unleashed. The base for all senchakra is the same: across-the-board enhancement, a radical boost to techniques via natural energy, sensory abilities, survivability. But each source still had its own quirks.

Toad: close combat through an aura that extends past the skin. A strike doesn't necessarily have to land with the fist; hitting with "intent" and natural energy is enough. And the stability it provides is massive: you stand like a pillar, and it's everyone around you who has to account for that, not you.

Snake gave plasticity and regeneration. Plasticity even in grafting foreign genomes onto yourself. Right off the bat, it gave access to body transformation: bending at impossible angles, fluid dodges, tying yourself into a sailor's knot, all of that was just a shadow of what was truly possible. In my hands, this senchakra provided even more transformation advantages than the Jugo clan. And on top of that, the same applied to whatever you infused with your senchakra. For instance, by irradiating a pile of stones with energy, you could practically breathe life into them, turning them into, say, a snake. Very fine control over both internal and external matter.

Slugs: my favorite abomination. A powerful connection to everything carrying my chakra. To separated body parts, for instance, with the ability to control them at a distance. Though the ability to split myself into a bunch of little people never did appear. But rapid regeneration remained and synergized well with the snake regeneration and the next senchakra. And then there was the acid, which could be manifested from any bodily secretion. Saliva, sweat, urine, or, if the user is a special kind of pervert, Water Release techniques.

And standing apart from this bunch was Hashirama's Sage Mode.

I used to think it was connected to the forest and all that. But the user of this senchakra himself told me otherwise, and it actually made even more sense.

The elder Senju, in his youth, would sometimes escape the endless clan wars by retreating into the forest and just walking around. And one day he stumbled upon a half-ruined temple. Inside it lived an old man, a monk, bald as a cue ball. They struck up a conversation, and that's when the old man told the boy about an art whose purpose wasn't to kill, but to unite...

When Hashirama told me this, I was pretty damn floored. Because it turns out he was taught a badass ancient technique nobody knew about by some random old sensei he just happened to bump into... Like something straight out of a Chinese cultivation novel.

Anyway, the monk taught him to breathe. To sit. To listen. First to himself, then to the world.

Hashirama spoke of it so soulfully, as if he'd found one of the cornerstones of the meaning of life: "Chakra connects people. But natural energy connects all existence."

It didn't evoke the same reaction in me, though. After his rambling explanations and lamentations that words are empty, that you just have to feel it, I asked him to skip the enlightenment and just hand over a piece of his senchakra. He passed it over, and that, essentially, was how I mastered his mode.

His senchakra felt... bright. Not kind, exactly, just bright. It worked best for healing and strengthening living things: trees, tissues, the body itself. And also for "binding." Restraining, pinning down, holding back, not letting "evil" unfold. Not because the world is divided into black and white, but because everything here is held together by the polarities of Yin and Yang, and sometimes you just need to press down on one side so the whole structure doesn't blow its top. Creating harmony, so to speak.

Turns out his senchakra originated from monks. Not surprising. He had an Urna on his forehead, a third eye, like Buddha... And his signature technique, "Sage Art: True Several Thousand Hands," is literally a religious statue of compassion from that same tradition. And the Torii gates he used to suppress the Ten-Tails in the original story are tied to that religion too. A lot of things, really. Before this, I'd also suspected he was connected to slugs. After all, his granddaughter Tsunade summoned them, and there aren't that many worlds capable of teaching senjutsu. But no, no connection.

Modern monks who used fairly similar techniques, by the way, looked paled in comparison to Hashirama.

Not because of a lack of knowledge... As I found out during one brief excursion, as well as from intel gathered by Orochimaru, Danzo, and Hiruzen's son Asuma, who had ties to the monks. Because of the body. They simply lacked the physical durability to hold that kind of energy the way Hashirama did.

Once I'd studied all of this inside and out, added my own contributions and Orochimaru's, I was once again lying in the large laboratory hall, unconscious inside a chamber, while clones managed the changes in me through fuinjutsu.

And then I opened my eyes. Thankfully, everything went faster this time. There were fewer changes than last time, and I had more test subjects, as well as more personal computational power and knowledge. But there were changes. And I felt them immediately.

Small differences jumped out right away. I was now permanently in a weakened Sage Mode. My new body and chakra were sturdy enough to barely feel the burden, dipping only slightly in energy generation, while delivering partially synergistic benefits of all four types of senchakra. Properly combined, I should add. For instance, the toad senchakra in its passive state clung to my skin, making me far tougher, but without interfering with touch or preventing me from feeling the world through contact.

I raised my hands and froze for a second. My arms were bigger, my shoulders wider, the muscles not just "athletic teenager" anymore but proper, adult ones. And the thing that really sent me into ecstasy: they quietly hummed with contained power! Very quietly. As if whispering: come on, use us. And crush this world!!!

Before, I'd looked about fourteen at almost thirteen chronologically. Now my body had crossed the threshold into adulthood, and my brain... seemed to exhale. I'd died at eighteen in my past life, then lived here for another thirteen years. Only now did I realize that the child's body had been a slight but constant weight on me all this time. An invisible burden, unnoticed until it was finally lifted.

I stepped out of the chamber, set my feet on the floor, and habitually distributed my multi-ton body weight across the surface using chakra. Straightened up. My height had grown by a full head. Exactly one meter eighty.

I liked the result.

Soon I was supposed to head to Kiri. To start implementing the plan for world domination. Or rather, conduct a trial takeover of just one country, as preparation.

My recent experience with Tsunade had made one thing simple and clear: even if loud rumors circulate about you, people might, if only occasionally, not take you seriously if you don't look... serious. Like a child, for example. And an "overlord" who isn't taken seriously can be disobeyed. His orders can be ignored. And I needed power. Obedience! I needed people to do what was necessary, not march collectively toward self-destruction and call it freedom, as they usually did.

This was one of the main reasons I'd decided to age up my body's appearance.

Running a satisfied hand over my abs, I got dressed and headed to one of Root's bases.

Only a week remained before Jiraiya and I were due to arrive in the Mist. And before we stuck our noses in, my subordinates had gathered all available intel on the country and its people.

My body appeared in an underground room with a desk neatly stacked with papers.

Everything completed on schedule. Well done. My consciousness immediately plunged into the information.

Just one thought surfaced unexpectedly.

"Interesting... will I achieve my goal?"

I chuckled, catching a strange sensation, like a faint chill beneath my skin.

"Maybe it's just nerves... It's unlikely I'll even need to test this body to half its strength in the Mist."


Some Time Ago. Interlude. Momochi Zabuza

A black-haired, well-built man stood on the deck of a moderately large boat with a roof and a hold.

The shinobi, who had packed on a fair number of kilos during his stay in Konoha, was enjoying the blue sea breeze. His massive cleaver, Kubikiribocho, hung on his back, which only made him happier.

"The sea again... Feels like hardly any time passed. But how long it's been since I last saw it."

The Hidden Leaf... the prison... Zabuza didn't even notice his mind drifting back to the beginning of that delightful little vacation...

From the moment that underage monster knocked him out, the man woke up in a dark room feeling pumped full of something psychotropic. His thoughts were shrouded in fog... Black silhouettes flickered around him, and then the pain! The only thing he could feel. An unceasing, ever-growing agony in his head.

They tortured him for hours... or so Momochi had thought.

But then, when he woke up again, this time in some cell, a blond Konoha chunin simply walked up and apologized.

Apparently, when the Yamanaka clan was sifting through his memories, the solution meant to keep the swordsman unconscious had been improperly mixed by a pharmacy intern. Because of that, he had accidentally "woken up for about twenty seconds"...

The feelings Zabuza experienced upon hearing this were hard to put into words, but his facial expression at the time had conveyed them perfectly.

Then Momochi learned yet another fact:

"He apologized! To me! Because they extracted information from me the 'wrong way'! That's like an executioner apologizing to the prisoner after torture for making it too painful! What the fuck?!" The dilemmas blazed inside Zabuza's head.

And then it got worse.

Sitting in solitary confinement, they brought him quality food every single day!

Three times a day!

And on top of that, a day later they put Haku in the cell directly across from his.

"So you won't be bored," the Konoha slug-jailer had said when he brought me food yet again.

Ever since childhood, Zabuza had despised hypocrites. The kind of people who inflict pain and then smile at you like nothing happened.

Momochi was convinced: the entire world consists of those who manipulate and those who are manipulated. Everything is built on that! Spinning sweet words, "kind-looking" people make the truly pure-hearted commit the vilest atrocities. And the pure-hearted don't even suspect they're doing something terrible. They blindly follow whoever leads them.

But Zabuza had honor! That's exactly why, when he was leading the revolution, he never played the hypocrite. All his subordinates knew they were his pawns. He told them straight that he'd sacrifice them if necessary.

And people, sensing his sincerity, followed him anyway. It was something new, something unusual, and, as many believed, something that had a real chance of succeeding.

But then Zabuza himself had fallen into a den of hypocrisy...

Some time later, after the interrogation and information-extraction sessions were over, he was led into a room draped in dark crimson fabrics.

Sitting at the desk was what appeared to be an ordinary old man, yet a chill ran down Momochi's spine the second he laid eyes on him.

Logically, the swordsman should have been far more tense around the pair of ANBU who had brought him here, but before him sat the God of Shinobi. He might not have been in his prime, but Zabuza decided right then not to test his temper unnecessarily.

"Momochi Zabuza," the Third Hokage began. "Do you want to live?"

Obviously, he did. His revolutionary cause wasn't finished yet; raising funds for it was the whole reason he'd agreed to work for Gato.

Hiruzen then explained that everything Momochi could offer the Leaf had already been extracted. If he wanted to walk free with his companion, he just had to agree to a job he'd probably enjoy anyway.

Zabuza was tasked with helping the revolution in Kiri. Very soon. And simply not getting in Konoha's way afterward.

Essentially, he was being sent as a gift... But since this aligned perfectly with Zabuza's own goals, he didn't object.

He was also given one small additional task:

"You will travel with Konoha's first delegation. It is in your best interest to make sure none of them come to harm. An Uzumaki spatial marker has been placed inside your body. If I learn of anything that displeases me, you'll be returned to the Leaf. But this time, permanently."

"..." When the Hokage mentioned that monster, Zabuza shuddered.

The swordsman had no idea whether this was true or the Leaf's Kage was bluffing. But he had absolutely no desire to test it... That brat, who looked like just a kid, had turned out to be way too terrifying. And this old man, too... Momochi had heard he was one of the kindest rulers in the world. Apparently, that didn't extend to outsiders who'd once been enemies.

Returning to the present.

It was morning. Zabuza was sailing back to his homeland.

Having stared his fill over the railing, he turned to the deck, where not far away a Leaf shinobi sat at a small table, lazily scribbling something into a scroll.

"Another boy in a green vest. Just as two-faced a bastard as everyone else in Konoha," Zabuza thought with displeasure.

That one was listed as the leader here. Nara Sora was the kid's name. And Zabuza didn't give a damn that the guy was technically about five years his senior; he still called him that, both in his head and out loud. Because there wasn't a shred of real shinobi in him.

Momochi was convinced that if a person hadn't stood on death's edge so many times that it stopped bothering them, they weren't a damn shinobi. Just a person in a uniform, not a perfected tool.

Zabuza had, in fact, only just woken up and come out for some fresh air.

They'd been sailing all night. And they could've reached shore in a couple of hours, honestly!

All because of this "polite boy" who, instead of heading straight for land, had sent a letter to the current leader of the revolution saying, hey, we've arrived, come meet us.

Now the whole delegation was waiting for a reply, bobbing around somewhere in the waters between the Kanzoku Sea and the Kanashi Ocean, to the south. They'd originally set sail from the Land of Noodles, where a small fleet belonging to the Land of Fire was stationed, including this very boat.

Zabuza could go on characterizing the Konoha crowd at length. But it all boiled down to their hypocrisy, naturally. Though, to Momochi's surprise, one normal person in this dump had actually turned up. Or rather, turned up female.

When he was introduced to this delegation of theirs, besides the boy in the little hood, from the Aburame clan or whatever they're called, and the boy in the little black jumpsuit, some relative of Hiruzen's, there was an actual woman. And a proper man's woman at that. Yase Ai, her name was.

Zabuza, though they'd never crossed paths before, remembered her well. She was in the Bingo Book, and he knew she'd already survived two world wars. As far as Momochi was concerned, there were only three actual shinobi on this ship: himself, Haku, and her.

Chestnut hair down to her waist, height somewhere around two meters. She was taller than Zabuza himself. Her face was admittedly a bit "rocky," as if roughly chiseled from stone. But that was fine. And the fact that she wore the standard Leaf uniform, same as Nara, that was normal too. Because she radiated the aura of a genuine killer! She alone had more guts than all the other Konoha shinobi combined!

Aside from the two of them and Nara, the deck was empty. Having had his fill of the ocean view and the steady rocking of the ship, Momochi headed for the bathroom.

"These shell-less slugs infected me with their... what's it called... cleanliness," Zabuza shook his head. "And it all started with Haku, damn it. So obsessed with his appearance... The second those green seafood rejects showed him the bathtub, he started spending hours in there. And when those ichthyofaunal abortions let him bring some kind of clay into the cells, it got even worse. Haku started walking around half the day painted up like a carnival float."

And that was only the beginning... Because Haku, the little bastard, started trying to make Momochi smear the stuff on himself too.

"Zabuza-san, your skin isn't young anymore. This clay is excellent for removing wrinkles, cleansing pores, giving the skin a nice matte finish..."

And plenty more of that crap, which made the swordsman want to spit.

He recalled with horror how, day after day, they broke him down.

Not the Konoha interrogators. Haku... and in the end, Zabuza had caved. Now he was used to regular showers.

"Whatever. Once I get home, the battlefield will beat this crap out of me in no time. For now, I just need to go brush my shark teeth..."

Zabuza strolled casually to the bathroom and yanked the door open...

He really shouldn't have.

Because what he saw... would haunt his nightmares for a long time to come.

It was a woman! No, not naked... Just Ai, standing with a machete in hand, sleeves and pant legs rolled up. But her legs, unlike her apparently shaved arms, were absolutely covered in hair! And there was genuine stubble on her face!!!

"Holy fuck!!!" He slammed the door shut.

"I have less hair on my entire body than she has on one leg..." Momochi thought, deeply impressed.

From that day on, he promised himself he would always knock.


Interlude. Sora Nara

Sitting at the table on the gently rocking vessel, he habitually ran through his negotiation plan in his head. Thanks to the calm weather, the unrolled scrolls weren't blowing away, making working with them a pleasure.

The picture of the people he was about to forge an alliance with was shaping up colorful and, frankly, "problematic." Trusted contacts had compiled a report stating that while the situation in Kiri had changed since the last revolution, there was still absolutely no sense of unity.

For now, they were held together by a fairly strong kunoichi who ran the uprising with an iron fist. But the retinue gathered around her still resembled a jar full of spiders, each playing their own game, not yet daring to bite the mistress...

Thinking about this, Sora sighed more than once, cursing the day he'd decided to work as Konoha's envoy. The Leaf certainly wasn't without its own sins, but at home things were at least simpler and more predictable, thanks to familiarity.

The layout was as follows. The revolutionaries had Mei, who had personal scores to settle with the Mizukage. There were "ideological avengers," in the form of an illegitimate son of the Hoshigaki clan, ready to burn everything down for his own vendetta against the Mizukage. There were pragmatists and paranoids, like Ao, a dangerous veteran with a Byakugan who was equally formidable as a fighter, tactician, and scout. And there were "dark horses." A certain leader of the remnants of the Hozuki clan, whose motives were hidden and impossible to figure out, and, lastly, some guy named Mittei.

Mittei had a history of mercenary work, and on paper everything seemed fine with him... as fine as things can be for a leader of sabotage operations. But Nara's profile of him was bugging him for some reason. His intuition whispered that something was off about the man, but couldn't clearly explain what.

Here, Sora could only regret that the Leaf's spy hadn't managed to penetrate the upper echelons, so figuring out which of these "revolutionary leaders" would betray them first was something he'd have to do on the ground.

His back stiffened from the light brainstorming session.

Sora stretched with pleasure and shifted his gaze to the deck, where Momochi Zabuza had just appeared.

Rough, arrogant, but predictable. Unlike certain politicians, he knew his place and, surprisingly for a missing-nin, almost never lied.

Nara had heard plenty from his sempai Shikaku about how hard it was sometimes to work with the "hypocritical bastards" on the civilian council. How they'd show up in Konoha every few months and mumble something incoherent. So the Leaf's tokubetsu-jonin figured that at least in one thing he'd gotten lucky: working with someone like Zabuza was much simpler.

Zabuza's companion, Haku, interested him very little. The kid was a shadow, loyal to his master, and just another piece of political cargo they could dump on the revolutionaries as a gift, then leverage for better terms for the Village.

His thoughts flowed smoothly to his own squad. And here he couldn't help but grimace.

Yase Ai. Their main striking force and, simultaneously, their biggest headache. A woman with a massive frame, enormous chakra reserves, and a complete absence of hangups. Loved to drink, laughed too loudly, and, most terrifyingly, was "actively looking." Once, Sora had even prayed that she wouldn't start hitting on the Mist swordsman or the diplomats; an international scandal over sexual harassment was the last thing they needed.

Nara felt much calmer about the other two. Sarutobi Kenji and Aburame Kiyoshi were veterans of the Third World War who had long passed the age most shinobi never reached. As shinobi overall, they weren't exactly outstanding, but each excelled in something. Sarutobi was a summoning specialist, capable of yanking the whole team out of any mess in seconds with a special reverse summoning technique. Aburame was a sensor; his bugs were bred specifically for detecting chakra through dense fog and were an invaluable asset in Kiri territory.

When he thought about it, the Hokage had really prepared them well. The delegation to Kiri was a well-assembled team: "eyes" for the mist, an "escape route" in case of failure, a "battering ram" in Ai if they needed to buy time for that escape, and even a trophy Mist Swordsman for legitimacy and leverage.

The odds of returning to the Leaf alive, and with good spoils, were definitely above zero.

"Ki-i-i!"

Sora reflexively turned his head toward the sound. A mail hawk was descending, wings slicing through the air.

Rising from the table, the man stepped into the open part of the deck, squinting in the bright sunlight. The bird, flapping its wings, settled heavily onto his forearm.

But the idyll of the moment, the sound of waves and the proud profile of the feathered predator, was shattered by a muffled but utterly genuine scream of horror from below, where the bathroom was located:

"Holy fuck!!!"

Sora froze with his hand still extended toward the hawk.

The bird proudly looked away, pretending it had nothing to do with this circus.

"Ahem," he coughed awkwardly into the silence, understanding perfectly well that Zabuza had just gotten acquainted with the "feminine" side of their Ai. "Well... this was bound to happen sooner or later."

Finally reading the message, Nara gave a satisfied nod to himself... then his lips twitched.

"Gotta remember those flowers Uzumaki-san asked for."

The initial meeting with the revolutionaries was set to take place very soon.

---

If you enjoyed my work, feel free to check out my Patreon. There you can read up to 20 chapters ahead and get early access to any new stuff that I publish

 

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter

 

[Welydora]

Interlude. Nara Sora

After several hours, the delegation's vessel nosed into the marshy shore and came to a halt. They had arrived at the Land of Water's closest island to the mainland.

A narrow strip of viscous "beach" immediately gave way to a more or less flat clearing that stretched a couple hundred meters inland. Beyond it sprawled a murky green forest of thin trees, unfamiliar to Leaf shinobi.

The Konoha team, along with the swordsman and his partner, gathered on deck. One small leap, and they stood on solid ground.

A group of shinobi immediately moved to meet them. A typical Kiri squad from the revolutionary era: swamp-toned clothing, darker armor layered on top, striped leg warmers, arm guards.

When about ten meters remained between them, two figures stepped forward from the revolutionary ranks. The first appeared ordinary enough: tall, solid build, chestnut hair pulled back, sharp black eyes. The second looked alien by comparison: nearly two meters tall, broad, muscular, bluish skin, gills beneath his eyes. He wore no armor, just a dark blue sleeveless bodysuit that clung to his frame, somewhat reminiscent of Sarutobi's gear but more exposed. Two swords were strapped to his back, each one a two-handed weapon for any normal person, their blades curved toward the tips.

Sora stepped forward. Ai moved in sync beside him, along with… Zabuza.

The pineapple-haired shinobi wanted to sigh.

Did Momochi even understand what kind of status he'd just demonstrated with that move? Well, too late now.

"Greetings, shinobi of Kiri," Sora began, adhering to protocol. "Nara Sora, head of the delegation, representative of the Hidden Leaf Village and the Great Third Hokage." A formality, but there was no getting around it.

"Pleased to welcome you in return," the chestnut-haired man responded, taking a few more steps forward. His friendly smile looked… too alive to be entirely fake.

While Sora spoke, Zabuza and the second swordsman exchanged brief nods.

So they know each other. That must be the Hoshigaki clan bastard, Sora noted mentally.

"Call me Iwamoto Natsuo. I handle diplomacy for our humble coalition," he said with a slightly wider smile. "Remarkable to see that the previous leader of our struggle for justice has arrived with you. Welcome, Zabuza-sama!"

Momochi gave a curt nod but remained silent.

Sora didn't know all the details, but he was glad they had convinced the swordsman back in the Leaf to keep his mouth shut and not interfere with his work.

"Thank you for agreeing to this meeting," Sora continued. "We come with good intentions. Konoha seeks peace across the entire world. To that end, we offer you our assistance."

Natsuo paused for a second, then gave a warm nod.

"That's wonderful. We'd be happy to discuss it. Let me take you to the rest of the Liberation's leaders. They've gathered not far from here."

"Of course," Sora waved, beckoning the rest of the delegation. Haku took his place beside Zabuza, and they moved toward the revolutionary shinobi.

"How was the journey?" Natsuo asked the most obvious question imaginable once the distance between the groups shrank to a couple of steps.

"Comfortable," Sora nodded. "Thank you for asking. While we walk, let me introduce my team…"

After a brief exchange of names and titles on both sides, they broke into a run and plunged into the forest. The first contact inspired cautious optimism. They'd been received rather warmly, which would have been hard to expect from the Kiri shinobi Sora had read about in reports from fifteen years ago. Back then, peaceful negotiations were out of the question. Now they were calmly following their hosts to a place where negotiations would take place… if this wasn't a trap, of course.

But an ambush would have made far more sense right on the shore, where there was more water and the shinobi of Water would have had the advantage. Counting on guests from Konoha letting their guard down along the way would have been too naive. They weren't genin, after all.

With each passing minute, the sense of immediate danger receded. But dropping one's guard was not an option. After twenty minutes of easy shinobi-pace running, they reached their destination.


A short while earlier. Same location

In the middle of the foggy forest, a fairly spacious clearing had been carved out. A large tent stood at the center, with several smaller ones nearby, almost hidden by the trees.

Shadows of shinobi flickered along the perimeter, nearly blending into the surrounding gray-green mass.

A bit further out, a second ring spread in a loose chain, a squad with no identifying marks. They'd been entrusted with the outer perimeter. Their task was simple: let through only those who were supposed to be here.

These were some of the revolution's best. Most had already survived more than one wave of uprisings. And today, maybe, as they so desperately wanted to believe, a new wave would gather enough force to become a tsunami that would wash away Yagura's bloody regime. Flush the blood that had soaked into the fog.

Hope had flared and faded before, more than once. In the shinobi world, darkness stubbornly crawled from every crack. Maybe they were paying for their ancestors' karma. But those who had survived to this day clung fiercely to one simple thought: the darkest hour is just before the dawn. The only question was whether they'd live to see it.

Two guards stood by the entrance to the main tent. Against the grim focus of everyone else, they were chatting almost casually, though they wore the same Kiri-revolutionary standard: swamp tones, armor, headbands.

"Hey, Kaito," the chestnut-haired one with a short sword on his back turned to his partner.

"What?" answered the black-haired one with two massive shuriken strapped across his shoulders.

"What do you think they're like? The Konoha people."

"Normal. People are people. Maybe wearing brighter rags," Kaito shrugged.

"I'd love to see other countries…"

"I'm fine right here."

"Boring. Just imagine: a village in the Land of Fire, all covered in green leaves…"

"Where you'll be digging latrines for the locals if you don't shut your mouth," a rough voice came from inside the tent.

The guards flinched and straightened up almost in unison. A tall, middle-aged man in a blue-green kimono with beige trim stepped through the flap. Light blue hair was swept upward, and large earrings shaped like paper fuin-talismans dangled from his ears. Swollen veins crossed the right side of his face, and beneath his forehead protector, a black patch was tied over his right eye. Under it: a Byakugan.

Ao squinted for a second, staring through the trees.

"Hmm. So he's here too," he muttered under his breath. "Delegates will be here in seven minutes. While the negotiations are underway, I don't want to hear a sound from you."

Nod.

Nod.

Without further explanation, Ao peered into the distance for another moment, then ducked back inside. A narrow passage led him into a slightly dim space with a large oval table. A detailed map of the Land of Water was spread across it. Like the rest of the "furniture set," the table had been brought in using spatial fuin-seals. Nobody had been stupid enough to haul it all on their backs.

"Ao-sama, are they coming soon?" an anxious voice pulled his attention.

A teenager with a short crop of blue hair stood before the table. Straight-rimmed goggles sat on his head, protective earmuffs over his ears. A blue, form-fitting uniform, camo pants. But the main thing was this: on his chest, in the form of a black flak vest, sat a harness system for one of the seven legendary Swords of the Mist. Behind his back, wrapped in bandages, the twin blades of Hiramekarei curved toward their shared hilt.

"Chojuro, show some restraint," Ao grumbled, walking to his chair. "You're a man."

"Um…" The swordsman's hands dropped helplessly.

"In my day, someone with your personality wouldn't have survived. Real men should be tough and decisive, not—"

"Ao, don't start. My ears are wilting from your lectures," another man drawled lazily from three chairs to the right.

He was wrapped in dark, loose clothing: a black cloak with camouflage inserts, a high collar, dark pants to match. Black hair reached his shoulders. His gray, washed-out eyes stared into nothing, pupils nearly merging with the irises.

"Mittei, don't interrupt the educational process," Ao waved him off, tying the patch back over his Byakugan.

"Educational process," the man named Mittei snorted. "What would you know about teaching anyone? You're always going on about how your teachers beat the hell out of you your whole childhood."

"Hey! Don't make it sound dirty."

"Right, right, there are children present." The corners of his mouth stretched into a smile far too wide for those dead eyes. In the shadow of his face, it looked… unsettling.

Chojuro still stood there, looking sullen, until the sound of the tent flap being thrown open made him turn.

"Lady Mei," he breathed with reverence.

A woman entered, tall for this world, slender. Her long dark auburn hair cascaded to mid-thigh; part of it was gathered into a tall vertical bun on top. Several lush strands framed her face in front and converged above her impressive bust; one strand covered an eye the color of glaze. A blue dress with a high slit revealed black shorts and dark stockings, and the bodice featured a deep neckline.

Mei pressed a finger with a blue nail to her painted lips and tilted her head slightly.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"No, we just finished," Ao answered curtly.

"Hmm," she surveyed those present. "I heard they're getting close. Shall we go meet them at the entrance?"

"But, Mei-sama," Ao's voice remained firm. "We have already shown them sufficient honor. By sending Natsuo and Josame to meet them, we demonstrated respect. For you, as the future Mizukage, it would be beneath your dignity to personally greet ordinary shinobi. It would look as though we're groveling before Konoha."

For a moment, heavy silence hung in the tent. Mei's face twitched almost imperceptibly. For a second, something dark and predatory seemed to radiate from her, then vanished just as quickly.

"This meeting could prove very important for Kiri," her voice went cold.

"It could. But you must not appear beneath them."

Mei knew protocol no worse than Ao. She had learned all those rules in her clan, back when it still existed… And formally, she was right: a Kage was indeed not supposed to greet a foreign delegation all the way at the entrance, but simply stepping outside was fine. However… these negotiations were secret, and while the Kage title wasn't officially hers yet… she decided not to create unnecessary conflict within their ranks.

Still, even though Konoha was a massive player and had to be treated with extreme caution, Mei remembered who she had to rely on first and foremost. And if her inner circle was calmer, the chances of them making a scene during negotiations would drop too.

"Fine. Have it your way," the woman walked to her chair in the center, facing the entrance.

A few minutes later, Natsuo's voice came from outside as he exchanged a few words with the guards, and the tent flap was thrown open again.

"Please, come in."


Continuation. Nara Sora's Interlude

Sora entered first, followed by the rest of the Konoha shinobi, then Zabuza and Haku. Josame came in after them, Natsuo last.

Natsuo turned around, ready to open the official proceedings, but was cut off by the high, slightly cracking voice of the teenager who had jumped to his feet.

"Zabuza-sama?!"

Every pair of eyes in the tent locked onto Chojuro. The displeasure in them was obvious.

"Sorry," the swordsman sank back guiltily.

In truth, most of them didn't really care about the boy's outburst. They were all here for something else entirely. Only Ao's face showed real irritation, and Sora's seemed to turn to stone for a second before smoothing back to calm.

Well then. If Kiri's shinobi want to speak first that badly, be my guest, Sora noted mentally.

Everything that happened here would go into his report. And it would influence the future deal. Five and eight are different numbers, right? Or maybe go straight to ten?

"Do I know you?" Zabuza spoke for the first time in a long while. And with that, he pushed the start back even further, while also showing disrespect to both the potential partners and the revolutionaries themselves, which made Mei's face twitch.

"He's my student, Chojuro," Josame answered for him as he walked past and sat down next to the boy. "Talented kid. More talented than either of us."

He nodded at an empty seat, and Zabuza, with a grunt, sat down beside his student. Haku took the seat on the other side.

Iwamoto held his gaze on Ao for a moment and grimaced almost imperceptibly. He was nearly certain whose initiative it had been to meet the Konoha delegation here rather than at the entrance, and how this looked right now. His eyes flashed with anger in Ao's direction, then he took a deep breath, pushing the displeasure out with the air, and put the friendly smile back on his face.

"Dear guests, please, have a seat," Natsuo hurried to take his own place and, once they had all settled in, continued. "Before such an important event begins, I would consider it an honor to introduce the rest of the revolution's leaders. To my left, Lady Terumi Mei, commander of our army and future Fifth Mizukage. To her left, Ao, head of intelligence and future advisor. Between Josame-san and Zabuza-san sits one of the Swordsmen of the new Mist, Chojuro, wielder of the legendary twin blades Hiramekarei. And finally, to my right, Mittei, head of sabotage operations."

He caught his breath, surveying them. Ai listened with open interest. The rest of the Konoha faces were blank. The Aburame scratched his nose under his hood, and that was about it.

"In turn," Natsuo gave a slight bow, "allow me to introduce our guests…"

After another brief exchange of names and titles, the floor passed back to Sora.

"As stated, I represent the Great Third Hokage and the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Konoha has long pursued the ideal of peace. We abhor Yagura's brutal regime, and we sincerely grieve for what your country is going through. I'm glad to see we are not alone in our opposition. In our world, humanity has become too precious a luxury. No matter how strong we may be, none of us can achieve a truly worthy goal alone. Therefore, we offer you our assistance. And we hope for future cooperation."

Thus spoke Nara, a master of political ass-kissing. Though by the standards of a certain other world, this was still tame.

"We are pleased to host a representative of the honorable Hiruzen and his companions," Mei took the floor, continuing in the same tone. "Sarutobi-sama is known as a wise leader. We greatly value your desire to help us achieve peace. We fight for justice and freedom. Unfortunately, the Fourth Mizukage has forgotten what those words mean. But let us clarify," her lips curved into a soft smile, "your offer of assistance doesn't contradict our goals?"

"No," Sora replied. "We seek an equal partnership."

At the word "partnership," her expression shifted almost imperceptibly. Something painful, something deeply personal twitched inside her, but she forced herself to return from it to the real world. Sora noted it at the edge of his awareness but continued:

"Allow me to explain how we see this. We know about the primary threat: Karatachi Yagura. And we are proposing our assistance in his elimination."

Natsuo's and Ao's eyes widened. Chojuro's mouth also fell open. The rest kept their composure, though the internal reaction bled through in barely perceptible movements.

"We are prepared to send you two shinobi worthy of being Kage," Sora continued. "One of them is known to you, at least by reputation: one of the Legendary Sannin, Jiraiya. The second is one of the last living representatives of the Uzumaki clan. He is… an exceptional and highly influential individual among us. Believe me, there's no reason to doubt his prowess."

At the brief mention of the Leaf's loosely known jinchuriki, Zabuza's shoulders twitched, which didn't escape the other revolutionaries' notice. They weighed the implications, nodded. And, having no doubts about the named shinobi, moved on to the main questions:

"What exactly," Ao began dryly, "do you value your services at?"

"And do you understand all the risks involved?" Mei clarified, earning a disapproving look from Ao but an approving one from Natsuo. Their reactions perfectly illustrated their attitudes toward revealing what the woman was leading to.

Sora turned his head toward her.

"Is there something we should know beyond the fact that Yagura is the Three-Tails' jinchuriki and an extremely powerful shinobi?"

"…The revolution once attempted to secure support. For his elimination. But that organization refused us."

Hearing this, Sora's eyebrows rose. So the revolutionaries, at least their leader, knowing about certain nuances, had chosen not to use the Leaf blindly. He appreciated that. He gave an authoritative nod. After all, he knew far more about the topic at hand than anyone else present.

"You're referring to the Akatsuki?" he clarified, prompting a wave of surprise from the revolutionaries. "According to our intelligence, they have a hidden leader. And it's precisely this leader who made Yagura what he is."

A few sentences, and a storm of shock swept through the tent. Thanks to Ao's Byakugan, they knew their Mizukage was being controlled. But they'd never known where the roots grew from.

Sora deliberately didn't reveal that Konoha had a spy inside the organization, nor that this hidden leader was an Uchiha, meaning, most likely, a former Leaf shinobi. Revealing that could both compromise the spy and slam the door on further negotiations.

"Does that mean they might interfere?" Mei asked anxiously, voicing the most critical concern.

"There's that possibility…" he drawled with a hint of hesitation, as if trying to reassure them. "But the Akatsuki's goal, as far as we know, is the collection of all the tailed beasts…"

What followed was a rapid-fire Q&A about the Akatsuki, which ultimately strengthened the bond between the two sides. It turned out both would be opposing this organization of elite mercenaries. So things weren't so bad after all…

And only later, having reached a mutual understanding, did they all circle back to the question of price.

"Come now," Sora smiled for the first time since the negotiations began. Judging by the revolutionaries' faces, the smile inspired nothing but suspicion. "How could we demand payment from future allies? But, like any friends, in return for our gift, we would be delighted to receive yours."

The revolutionaries looked at him as though he'd just said the word "hypocrisy" out loud.

Sora pulled a small scroll from his vest, unsealed several larger ones from it, then formed the seals for Shadow Clone on objects. A moment later, each of the leaders had their own identical set before them.

"So as not to waste time reading aloud," he explained, "we've prepared a rough list of what we'd like to receive. For the next ten years: sixty percent of the tariffs from the trade route between the Land of Noodles and the Land of Water. Plus a list of plants from your climate zone that are rare for us, corals and marine plants, as well as important minerals and ores. Details are in the corresponding sections. Long-term, we are also interested in fish supplies, particularly from the eastern coast."

Ao opened the first scroll, skimmed the lines, snapped it shut, and fixed Sora with his one exposed eye.

"Are you trying to rob us?" he asked with restraint. His tone made it painfully clear that his first impulse had been not to "ask" but to scream.

"Don't rush to conclusions," Sora replied, his tone unchanged. "Everything is negotiable. We're entirely willing to adjust the terms to satisfy both sides."

Natsuo's eyes raced across the text. The document was long, packed with petty, unpleasant details. But those were exactly the kinds of details diplomats fought over.

"You're talking about ten years," Mei said thoughtfully, closing her copy. "You do understand that will only become possible after we restore order?"

"Of course. We believe in answering a gift with a gift. Someone has to start the cycle. Incidentally, as far as I know, Kiri still has strong fuinjutsu specialists? Your swords," Sora nodded at Zabuza's Kubikiribocho, making the swordsman's eyebrow twitch, "turned out to be quite fascinating. We're willing to replace some of our requests with an exchange of corresponding knowledge."

"How do you view the Three-Tails question?" Mittei's voice came from Sora's right.

He turned his head, and for a split second flinched internally. A cheerful, almost boyish smile radiating genuine enthusiasm. And gray eyes… completely dead. Two empty voids. He had to admit: an unsettling combination.

Sora returned to a neutral expression.

"Pessimistically," he answered honestly. "Our analysts doubt we can take Yagura alive. And I don't have the authority to decide such an important question on my own. But if we reach an agreement, Jiraiya-sama will arrive in approximately two to three months. He's a fuinjutsu master. The second shinobi we're sending is a respected member of the Uzumaki clan, also a master. I'm confident that if you prepare a worthy 'present' for them, they'll find the time to address this issue following your personal negotiations."

"Dear friends," Natsuo interjected, accidentally cracking a joke, "I regret to inform you that some of the plants on your list have already disappeared from Kiri's territories. But the good news is, we can offer other, equally interesting species in exchange."

"Well then," Sora straightened up in his chair even more. "As I said, we're open to dialogue."

Then the real bargaining began. For five hours, shinobi played tug-of-war, haggling over every single point, every percentage, deadline, guarantee, and phrasing.

The negotiations resulted in the following: instead of ten years, Kiri agreed to eight and a half. The start of supplies was pushed forward by a year and a half. Most of the clauses had to be rewritten practically from scratch, and this was only the first stage. The revolutionaries currently lacked a full picture of their own resources, meaning more of these councils awaited them.

Kiri, for its part, managed to secure food supplies for the coming year, not for free, of course, but disguised as a "reciprocal gift" in exchange for additional resources and chakra-related intelligence.

Everyone was thoroughly drained. But they were all especially grateful for one thing: the soft chairs. It was terrifying to imagine what would have happened to their asses after sitting that long without them.

When everyone finally rose from the table, dusk was already noticeably settling outside.

"Thank you for the warm reception," Sora said, turning to the assembled revolutionaries with only a faint shadow of sarcasm in his voice. Practically everyone looked ready to faceplant into the nearest cot. He looked at Mei, standing at the front. "I hope it won't take more than a couple more rounds of negotiations before we're addressing you as 'Mizukage-sama.'"

"Of course. We couldn't have done otherwise for such valued allies," Mei forced out a smile.

She wasn't just dead on her feet from the multi-hour tug-of-war between Sora and Natsuo. Deep inside, she was also gnawed by a sense of shame over how it had all started. One absurd "greeting"… What would it have cost them to go outside and meet the delegation properly? But yeah, yeah, revolutionary solidarity…

And then anger piled onto that murky cocktail. That careless banter between Josame and Zabuza at the very start, as if everything around them, both revolutionaries and Konoha shinobi alike, was nothing. This despite the fact that he'd been brought here as a gift! Terumi was convinced he thought far too highly of himself. Those two and their manners. For the sake of team cohesion, the kunoichi absolutely had to put them in their place…

During the previous wave, Josame hadn't been big on respect during negotiations either. But one fight, his pride drowned in magma, and for the past year he'd called her nothing but "Lady Mei." Time to refresh his memory. And the new swordsman needed to be properly introduced to the circle and put in his place.

Meanwhile, Sora felt a slight movement at his shoulder. The Aburame, who'd been practically silent until now, stepped closer and quietly whispered something in his ear.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Sora couldn't stop himself from asking.

The Aburame simply nodded.

"Mei-sama, forgive me if my words seem harsh," Sora's fatigue vanished in an instant. "My colleague has detected the familiar chakra of a Stone shinobi. He encountered him eleven years ago…"

He pointed at an unremarkable bush nearby. The instant his finger locked on, the bush jerked, and a shadow burst from it, bolting into the forest in the opposite direction.

Without wasting a second, Mittei launched from his spot, vanishing in a blurred Body Flicker. Almost immediately, other previously hidden shinobi emerged from behind tree trunks and rushed after the spy.

"…Thank you, Aburame-san, Nara-dono," Mei's smile became painfully strained. A spy who'd wormed his way into their trusted circle, right when Konoha had requested complete secrecy. Another blow to the revolution's pride.

"Happy to help," Sora nodded. "And… I have to say one last thing. The shinobi who'll be arriving later might not be as… understanding as our delegation," he spread his hands, indicating those standing behind him. "So next time, please, prepare better."

"Of course," Mei's voice dropped even colder. Sora could almost physically feel her rope of patience stretching to its limit, but it hadn't snapped yet.

"Then we must take our leave," he gave a slight bow of the head.

"I'll escort you," Natsuo volunteered immediately. More nervously than usual. As if he wasn't just being hospitable, but suddenly felt a strong urge to be as far from here as possible.

"We'd be grateful," Sora nodded and cast one final glance at Mei. She simply watched them in silence. Together with Iwamoto, they moved off, first at a walk, then picking up speed.

For a full minute, the revolutionary shinobi kept staring at the spot where Konoha's shadows had flickered one last time between the trees. The forest around them seemed to thicken, saturated with something anticipatory and ominous.

The silence was broken by a cough. Zabuza cleared his throat and lazily turned toward Mei.

The swordsman looked relaxed, but clear displeasure was written across his face.

Everyone in the large clearing sensed it: this was heading somewhere bad…

---

If you enjoyed my work, feel free to check out my Patreon. There you can read up to 20 chapters ahead and get early access to any new stuff that I publish

 

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter