In Kirigakure, within the office meant for the Mizukage, Elder Genshi stood gazing out over the village. Age weighed heavily upon him; he should have long since relinquished the burdens of leadership to enjoy his remaining years in peace. However, the shocking discovery that the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura, had been secretly manipulated by an outside force had compelled him to step back into the fray, to preside over the village during its time of crisis.
After all, this village was founded by the esteemed Lord Byakuren, the First Mizukage. Elder Genshi couldn't bear to watch it descend further into chaos. Now, with the Fourth Mizukage assassinated during this critical period, the already unstable village was shrouded in an even deeper shadow.
The title of Mizukage had always belonged to the village's strongest shinobi. Before Yagura's death, Genshi had thought his role would merely be temporary – stabilize the situation, guide the village through the transition. But Yagura's unexpected assassination had drastically intensified the turmoil.
A new Mizukage had to be chosen, and soon. Every shinobi of notable strength had their eyes on the position, but none dared make a move without Elder Genshi's word. They could only suppress their ambitions and wait.
Having lived through the bloody tragedy and instability of the Bloody Mist era, Elder Genshi understood deeply that Kirigakure desperately needed change. He was resolved: the era of the Bloody Mist must end with this generation.
Elder Genshi hadn't possessed the influence to sway the selection or policies of the Second, Third, or Fourth Mizukages; he could only accept their reigns. But now, his age, experience, and respected status granted him significant sway over the selection of the Fifth.
"So," Elder Genshi murmured softly to himself, his gaze fixed on the village below, "before my own breath fails me, let me be the one to change Kirigakure's tragic destiny." A flicker of guilt crossed his aged features as he considered the grim possibility: perhaps Yagura's assassination, however horrific, was the very catalyst needed for that change.
Just then, his eyes caught movement outside the window – a single black crow circling silently.
"That… That's!" Elder Genshi recognized the bird instantly. Startled, he quickly opened the window, and the crow flapped inside.
He retrieved a blank scroll and spread it open on the large desk. The crow flew directly towards it, crashing headlong into the empty parchment. Upon impact, its form dissolved, shimmering and reforming as lines of written characters that flowed onto the scroll's surface.
Elder Genshi snatched up the scroll and began to read. As he absorbed the contents, his frail body swayed, and he sank heavily into the Mizukage's chair. A deep, furious anger contorted his already wrinkled face. "Ao!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the office.
Immediately, the office doors burst open, and a shinobi appearing to be in his thirties or forties entered swiftly, dropping respectfully to one knee. "You summoned me, Elder Genshi?"
"A message has arrived from the Land of Sea," Genshi stated, his voice tight with suppressed rage. "The fugitive responsible for assassinating the Fourth Mizukage has been located!"
Ao looked up, a hopeful light entering his eyes. "Truly? Then, Elder G Genshi en, please give the order to pursue!"
Genshi looked at Ao, his own expression grim. "However… there is also bad news."
"What news?" Ao asked, sensing from the Elder's tone that this was serious.
"Terumi Mei," Genshi said, his voice thick with anger, "has been abducted by the suspect!"
"What?!" Ao exclaimed, genuinely shocked. Terumi Mei was a pillar of strength within Kirigakure, her rare dual kekkei genkai placing her among the village's absolute strongest Jonin. In the power vacuum following Yagura's assassination, Mei was universally considered one of the very few viable candidates for the Mizukage title, especially with Hozuki Mangetsu also deceased. Now, she too had met with disaster?
"Are the fugitives – the three of them – tracked to the Land of Sea?" Ao asked urgently.
"No," Genshi corrected gravely. "The report confirms only one individual. The girl who killed Mangetsu!"
Staring at the familiar red gates of Konoha, Hinata and Kiba felt a heavy mix of emotions. Not only had their mission been aborted, but they carried news that felt deeply unsettling, yet they were powerless to influence the outcome.
Neji shared their complex feelings, but his thoughts ran deeper. Having glimpsed the contents of that Kiri Bingo Book before Anko destroyed it, he had formed a terrifying hypothesis. If his suspicion proved true, there was absolutely nothing he could do.
"Neji, you're coming with me to see the Hokage," Anko instructed him curtly. "From here on out, we follow Lady Hokage's directives implicitly." She then turned to the other two. "Kiba, Hinata, you two head back first."
"Yes, Sensei," they murmured, nodding, each lost in their own troubled thoughts.
In the Hokage's office, Tsunade was listening to an ANBU operative deliver a routine report on the surveillance of Junko. Ever since that enigmatic woman had first aroused suspicion, Tsunade had assigned Sakura to discreetly investigate her background while simultaneously placing Junko under constant, covert ANBU monitoring.
Frustratingly, the surveillance had yielded nothing. Junko maintained a perfectly normal, unremarkable routine. These hidden enemies, the ones who operate in plain sight, are always the most dangerous, Tsunade thought with irritation.
"Alright, I understand," Tsunade said, waving the ANBU away. "Dismissed for now. Report immediately if anything changes."
"Yes, Hokage-sama." The ANBU operative vanished silently. Moments later, there was another knock on the door.
"Enter," Tsunade called out. She looked up as Anko and Neji entered, surprised. "Mission completed already? That was fast."
"No, Hokage-sama," Anko stepped forward, her expression serious. "I aborted the mission."
"Aborted?" Tsunade frowned. "On what grounds?"
Anko took a deep breath. "We encountered A-rank missing-nin Haruno Sakura in the Land of Sea. Circumstances arose that were of critical importance, forcing us to abandon the mission and return immediately to report."
Tsunade's eyes narrowed instantly. "Hm? What circumstances?"
Instead of answering directly, Anko asked a question of her own, her gaze steady. "Hokage-sama… was Haruno Sakura framed?"
"That is not a question within your purview, Anko," Tsunade replied slowly, her voice dangerously quiet as she stared back at the Jonin. "First, tell me exactly what happened that necessitated abandoning your assigned mission."
Anko registered the Hokage's guarded response, confirming her suspicion: Sakura's defection wasn't straightforward. There was an inside story. But this confirmation only deepened Anko's internal conflict. If the worst-case scenario unfolded – war with Kiri – where would her own loyalty lie?
She reflected on Konoha's political landscape. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, had reigned for decades. An entire generation – multiple generations, in fact – of shinobi and civilians had grown up under his influence. Only the village's most elderly residents held clear memories of the First and Second Hokage. Hiruzen's legacy and prestige were immense, perhaps even surpassing the Founders', simply due to the sheer length and stability of his tenure (interrupted only briefly by the Fourth's tragically short reign before Hiruzen resumed power). He held sway over nearly every age group and faction within Konoha.
While Tsunade's ascension to Fifth Hokage had faced no significant open opposition – thanks largely to Hiruzen's endorsement and her own legendary reputation – her position was still relatively new. If her policies or decisions clashed significantly with established interests or Hiruzen's deeply ingrained legacy, she couldn't be certain the village's loyalty would fully consolidate behind her, especially after only a few months in office.
This was the underlying political danger Tsunade faced if she chose to openly favor Sakura upon her hypothetical return – it would likely trigger backlash, potentially orchestrated by figures like Danzo. Sakura herself likely didn't grasp these intricate political dynamics; she was, at heart, an ordinary person thrust into extraordinary circumstances, likely operating more on instinct – an instinct that correctly told her returning to Konoha wasn't a safe option.
Anko took another steadying breath. "Haruno Sakura… in the Land of Water…" she stated, deciding to deliver the news plainly, "assassinated the Fourth Mizukage and Hozuki Mangetsu of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen. Kirigakure has issued a warrant for her capture."
She finished speaking in a rush, feeling a slight sense of release now that the burden was shared. Whatever choice the Fifth Hokage made now, Anko found herself clinging to the hope that the enduring influence of the Third Hokage – his legacy, the systems he built, the elders loyal to him – would somehow prevent outright war.
CRACK!
The sharp sound echoed in the tense silence. The teacup Tsunade had been holding shattered in her grip, pieces falling onto the desk along with droplets of lukewarm tea.
Tsunade's eyes were bloodshot, blazing with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and fury. "Anko," she ground out, her voice tight, "tell me everything you encountered. In absolute detail."
"Yes, Hokage-sama!" Anko replied immediately, then proceeded to recount the entire sequence of events in the Land of Sea.
Assassinating the Kage of another Great Shinobi Village was tantamount to a declaration of war. Tsunade, who, despite everything, had never truly accepted Sakura as a genuine traitor deep down, felt blindsided, hit by the news like a physical blow. Killing Hanzo, a significant figure but ultimately the leader of a smaller nation, was one thing. But a Mizukage? The recognized leader of one of the Five Great Shinobi Villages? This was an entirely different magnitude of crisis.
Tsunade reflected on the weight of the 'Kage' title. It wasn't merely about individual power; any strong ninja could build a following. The title represented the established might and political standing of one of the five dominant hidden villages. That status hadn't been granted lightly. In the beginning, after the founding of Konoha, only villages powerful enough to challenge the Land of Fire's new powerhouse and survive could even claim such a title. The First Five Kage Summit, convened by Hashirama Senju, brought together the leaders of the strongest villages from the major nations, but mutual respect was thin; rivalries simmered beneath the surface. The other four 'Kages' led what were simply the largest, most dominant hidden villages within their respective countries. While other nations adopted Konoha's 'one nation, one village' model in principle, none possessed a leader like Hashirama capable of single-handedly suppressing all internal dissent. Interests and factions inevitably led to multiple, smaller hidden villages coexisting within most nations.
It wasn't until after the First Shinobi World War – a brutal conflict that served not only as an international power struggle but also as an opportunity for the major villages to consolidate power by absorbing or eliminating smaller rivals within their own borders – that the Five Great Shinobi Villages truly cemented their dominance. Only then did the 'Kage' titles become fully recognized and respected, establishing the five-way balance of power that had largely defined the shinobi world ever since. Any other village wishing to claim the Kage title would first have to endure – and survive – a full-scale war against one of the established Five Great Villages.
That was why Tsunade hadn't overly panicked about Sakura killing Hanzo. Amegakure, despite its strategic location and notorious leader, was vastly outmatched by Konoha. A war with Ame alone would be a swift, crushing victory for Konoha (the only real concern was potential intervention from Ame's sometime-ally, Iwagakure).
But Kirigakure… Hearing the Fourth Mizukage had been assassinated by her apprentice felt like a hammer blow to Tsunade's chest. This wasn't remotely comparable. If mishandled, this incident could genuinely ignite the Fourth Shinobi World War.
Tsunade had never felt such profound anxiety, not even during the past wars. Her palms were slick with sweat. One wrong step, one miscalculation, and war would be inevitable. Before, the conflict felt primarily internal – her struggle against Danzo's machinations over Sakura's fate. Winning that fight, while risky, could have potentially eliminated Danzo. But now, the stakes were infinitely higher: global war versus Sakura's life and reputation. No matter which path she chose, no matter the outcome, there seemed to be no truly 'good' result possible.
Which path do I take? Tsunade's brow furrowed deeply in concentration, her gaze fixed unseeingly on the shattered remains of her teacup on the desk before her, silent and utterly consumed by the agonizing weight of her decision.