The massive double doors to the Grand Audience Hall swung open silently before the third Hokage.
"Whumpf."
The hall stretched before him, vast and echoing. At its far end, seated upon a raised dais on a throne carved from a single, colossal block of obsidian veined with streaks of fiery red crystal, was Takeshi Itsukihara, the Fire Daimyo.
Hiruzen halted precisely ten paces from the base of the dais, the distance dictated by protocol centuries older than Konoha itself. He dropped smoothly to one knee, his Hokage hat held respectfully against his chest, his gaze fixed on the intricate geometric pattern woven into the plush crimson carpet beneath him.
"Lord Daimyoo," his voice rang clear and formal in the immense silence. "Hiruzen Sarutobi, Third Hokage of Konohagakure, answers your summons."
He kept his head bowed but allowed his peripheral vision to register the Daimyo. Takeshi Itsukihara was indeed a man marked by time since their last meeting.
The sharp angles Hiruzen remembered had softened slightly beneath the rich, heavy silk of his formal robes. His face, framed by neatly trimmed hair and beard, held more lines, particularly around the eyes, which, even from this distance, seemed to hold a weariness beneath their customary shrewdness.
"Rise, Hokage-sama," Takeshi's voice echoed pleasantly, warmer than Hiruzen had anticipated, yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority.
"Please, dispense with the formalities today. These chambers can feel… sepulchral." He stood, "Walk with me. I find conversation flows better over sustenance than across a gulf of polished stone."
He descended the dais steps with deliberate, measured grace. Hiruzen rose smoothly, replacing his hat, and fell into step slightly behind and to the left of the Daimyo as he led the way not towards the imposing throne, but towards a side chamber whose doors were discreetly opened by unseen attendants.
"Click."
The chamber beyond was intimate compared to the grand hall, yet still opulent. Sunlight streamed through tall, clear windows overlooking a meticulously raked zen garden. A low table of gleaming black lacquer was set with exquisite simplicity: fine porcelain dishes, delicate celadon cups, and steaming covered bowls releasing fragrant aromas of dashi broth, grilled fish, and pickled vegetables. Two zabuton cushions faced each other.
Takeshi gestured towards one cushion. "Please, Hokage-sama. Sit. Let us partake."
He settled onto his own cushion with a soft grunt, a small concession to age Hiruzen hadn't witnessed before. Attendants materialised silently, lifting lids with practised grace.
"Clink!"
The aroma intensified – miso, ginger, the clean scent of perfectly cooked rice. Hiruzen sat, his posture erect but less rigid than before the throne. He observed the Daimyo pick up his hashi (chopsticks), their ivory tips gleaming.
They ate in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the soft tick-tick of hashi against porcelain, the distant chirp of a bird in the garden, and the faint rustle of robes.
Hiruzen sampled the delicate flavours, appreciating the artistry, but his mind churned. The informality was a tactic, a velvet glove over the iron fist of summons. He waited, knowing the Daimyo would steer the conversation.
Finally, Takeshi spoke, "Testing times indeed, Hokage-sama," he began almost musing.
"They seem to press upon us with increasing frequency, do they not?" He took a sip of fragrant green tea from his celadon cup.
"Slurp."
He looked up, his eyes meeting Hiruzen's.
You know," he continued, "my grandfather… a formidable man, by all accounts. Also, a man of… prodigious appetites."
A faint, wry smile touched his lips. "Polygamous, as was the unfortunate custom of his time and station. Sired a veritable constellation of children. Some acknowledged, some… less so."
He picked up his hashi again, "The politics of lineage, Hokage-sama. A complex tapestry. Many of those children were married off, alliances woven like threads of silk and steel. One of my half-aunts… spirited away young, married to a minor lord in the Wind Country's court."
He paused, letting the implication hang. "Years passed. Generations. That minor lord's line… well, let us just say the blood of the Land of Fire flows in unexpected places."
He speared a piece of daikon. "Trace the lineages far enough and you find… connections. Tangled roots. Many of the ruling houses across the great nations?"
He met Hiruzen's gaze again, the wryness replaced by something harder, colder. "Essentially, cousins. Distant, perhaps. Rivalrous, certainly. But bound by blood, nonetheless. Blood that remembers."
Hiruzen's own chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth. He carefully lowered the morsel of fish back to his plate.
"Click." The Daimyo wasn't discussing ancient history. He was drawing a map of the present. The implications were chilling. Family ties, however distant, could influence policy, colour perception, and filter information. His eyes narrowed fractionally, the only outward sign of the sudden tension coiling within him.
"Intriguing history, Lord Daimyo," Hiruzen responded, "The complexities of lineage are indeed profound. It reminds us that the currents beneath the surface often shape the waves we see above."
He paused, choosing his next words with the precision of a master shinobi placing a senbon. "Yet, in these 'testing times,' as you aptly call them, the surface waves threaten to become a tsunami. I would humbly request… understanding. Sympathy, perhaps, for the position Konoha finds itself in. We navigate treacherous waters, seeking only to preserve the Land of Fire and its people."
Takeshi studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The pleasant facade seemed to thin.
"Sympathy," He stated, the word flat, devoid of its earlier warmth. "Understanding. Noble sentiments, Hokage-sama. But platitudes do not fill granaries emptied by diverted resources, nor do they calm merchants terrified their caravans will be ash before they cross the border."
Takeshi leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto Hiruzen's with an intensity that felt physical. "What I require, Hiruzen Sarutobi, is not sympathy for your position. I require answers. I require clarity."
His voice, though not raised, gained an edge like honed steel. "I summoned you here because the reports flooding my desk are contradictory and alarming."
He planted a hand firmly on the table.
"Thud."
"Tell me, plainly, what in the name of the sacred peaks is happening with this war?"
"We are engaged in active hostilities on multiple fronts, Lord Daimyo," Hiruzen began, "Suna, like always, is still working with Kumo against us." He paused, "Simultaneously, Iwagakure accuse us of similar treachery as Suna."
Takeshi's eyes narrowed. "And what about these accusations?"
Hiruzen took a measured breath. "In an effort to destabilise the nascent alliance between Suna and Iwa, and divert their aggression towards each other, a covert operation was authorised. It involved eliminating forward elements from both villages and staging the scenes to incriminate the other."
He saw the flicker in Takeshi's eyes – not surprise, perhaps, but a hardening of judgment.
"And yet," Takeshi cut in, "both Kages now point their fingers squarely at Konoha. How?"
The single word crackled with accusation. "How does the Hokage's meticulously planned subterfuge unravel before the ink on the mission scroll is dry? Are Konoha's shadows growing dull?"
Hiruzen felt the pressure, the implicit threat to funding, to legitimacy. He maintained his composure. "That, Lord Daimyo, is the critical question. Our intelligence networks are still pursuing with utmost urgency."
He leaned forward slightly, "We are investigating the possibility of a third party deliberately exposing our actions to inflame tensions and draw Konoha into a wider conflict."
Takeshi absorbed this, his fingers steepled before him, tapping lightly. The Daimyo's initial hostility seemed to recede slightly, replaced by a colder, more analytical focus.
"A third party… benefiting from Konoha, Suna, and Iwa tearing each other apart. Plausible. Disturbing." He frowned. "But it does not absolve the failure. Konoha is now exposed, painted as the instigator. Suna burns with vengeance. Iwa…" He trailed off, his expression darkening further.
This was the pivot Hiruzen had prepared for. He met the Daimyo's gaze, his voice dropping, infused with a controlled anger of his own. "Our intelligence suggests Iwa's actions are driven by more than righteous fury over a single attack. We believe Onoki has been playing a far more dangerous game." He let the accusation hang for a beat.
"We have indications that Iwa has been engaged in clandestine negotiations and resource exchanges with both Suna and Kumo, simultaneously, over the past year. Promising support, playing factions against each other, all while publicly maintaining their stance against Suna."
Hiruzen watched Takeshi Itsukihara's face transform. The analytical coldness evaporated, replaced by a flash of pure, unadulterated disgust. His lip curled, as if tasting something foul.
"Onoki seeks to make fools of us all? To profit from the fire while pretending to fetch water?" He slammed his open palm down on the table, making the porcelain rattle.
"Unforgivable!"
The shift in the room's atmosphere was palpable. The tension hadn't vanished, but its target had decisively moved. Takeshi leaned back, his eyes blazing with a different kind of intensity now – the outrage of a ruler whose established order had been blatantly manipulated by a perceived subordinate power.
"This… changes the situation," he stated, "Konoha's methods were… blunt. Ill-conceived, perhaps, given the outcome."
He fixed Hiruzen with a look. "But the intent was sound. Iwa's actions, however…"
"That is a threat I cannot, and will not, tolerate."
He signaled almost imperceptibly. An attendant materialized silently, refilling their teacups.
"Your investigation into this 'third party' continues, Hokage-sama. Pursue it relentlessly. But regarding the immediate threat…"
He took a deliberate sip. "...Konoha will have the resources it requires to defend the Land of Fire. Fully. Decisively."
He set the cup down. "Inform my court masters. The wartime budget allocation you submitted last month? Consider it approved. With an additional… contingency reserve. Fifteen percent."
Relief, sharp and profound, washed over Hiruzen, though he allowed only the slightest relaxation in his shoulders to show. The financial lifeline was secured. "Your Radiance's wisdom and support are invaluable," Hiruzen said, bowing his head slightly from his seated position, the gesture conveying deep respect and gratitude. "Konoha will not fail the Land of Fire. Iwa's duplicity will be answered."
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