Iwagakure – Tsuchikage's Office
Yōgan knelt respectfully before a short, middle-aged man whose presence, despite his stature, radiated immense authority. This man was none other than Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage of Iwagakure.
Ōnoki was flipping through the intelligence report in front of him, and with every passing page, his expression grew darker.
He'd invested a great deal of effort gathering intel on Tsunade and had believed this ambush operation was all but guaranteed to succeed. Never had he imagined this would be the result.
A sixty-man ambush unit—completely wiped out. Not only had Tsunade escaped, but there were no survivors. Not one.
It was humiliating enough that Tsunade had slipped through their fingers. But the fact that the entire squad had been annihilated… that was a catastrophe.
Ōnoki wanted to curse the unit for their incompetence, but at the same time, his heart ached for the loss. This wasn't just a bunch of genin—there had been numerous jōnin and elite jōnin among them.
Each of those shinobi represented years of resources, training, and investment by the village. And now, all of it was gone—with nothing in return.
"Damn it! Why is Konoha's backup always so damn fast?!"
Ōnoki slammed a palm onto his desk. The dull boom that followed shook the room.
This wasn't the fragile old man who threw his back out in the later years. No—when angered, this Ōnoki was downright terrifying.
Even Yōgan, kneeling nearby, instinctively bowed his head, unsure whether he should voice his suspicions.
But before he could decide, Ōnoki fixed his gaze on him, sharp and piercing.
"No... if Konoha reinforcements had wiped out Nagatoshi and the others, you wouldn't have come running all the way back from Amegakure. Did you discover something?"
After a brief hesitation, Yōgan spoke:
"Tsuchikage-sama, I examined the battlefield carefully—the corpses, the terrain, the damage. What I found was… unsettling. Nearly all of our men were cut down within three strikes—some in just one."
He took a deep breath before continuing.
"I suspect… that the last thirty-seven survivors of our unit were all killed by a single individual."
Ōnoki's pupils contracted.
He pondered for a moment before responding:
"If you're saying they were killed by sword technique… could it have been Hatake Sakumo from Konoha? I've reviewed his dossier—deadly kenjutsu, lightning-fast, it's plausible."
Yōgan slowly shook his head.
"Hatake Sakumo's kenjutsu is fused with Lightning Release. None of the bodies showed any signs of electrical burns or nerve disruption. That's why I suspect… the culprit was Gekkō Hoshiyomi—the one they call Konoha's 'Silver Moon.'"
The name Silver Moon of Konoha made Ōnoki's eyes narrow dangerously. That title reminded him all too vividly of Iwagakure's humiliating losses during the assault on Uzushiogakure.
"Tch… Konoha sure is overflowing with talented seeds," he sneered.
"But no matter. However many seeds they have, I'll see to it that they're crushed before they take root!"
He turned back to Yōgan with icy determination.
"Whether or not it was this Gekkō Hoshiyomi who killed Nagatoshi and the others—any shinobi of his caliber is one I won't allow to live."
Ōnoki stepped away from his desk, his voice growing darker.
"Amegakure's recent offensives have grown weaker. That bastard Hanzō dared to declare war against the three great nations? Arrogant fool. Even with no antidote, his salamander won't last much longer.
Once Amegakure falls back… that's when the real war begins.
And when it does—we'll make sure Konoha remembers the price of crossing us."
Meanwhile, at Konoha's frontline camp…
Day-to-day life fell into a repetitive rhythm.
There were skirmishes here and there, but no large-scale operations were launched.
Hanzō had attempted two more attacks on the Konoha forces—but both had ended in defeat for Amegakure.
It had become clear that Amegakure's shinobi simply lacked the endurance. If Hanzō was delayed or distracted, the rest of his forces quickly crumbled.
As long as Hoshiyomi opened with a wide-range tornado using his Steel Slash, it would blow away Hanzō's initial poison gas. From there, the battles became one-sided victories for Konoha.
Victory after victory—only the margin differed each time.
The synergy between Orochimaru and Hoshiyomi had become a nightmare for Amegakure. Their coordination was so seamless, it was nearly unbeatable.
Every battle followed a similar pattern:
Hanzō summoned his salamander.
Hoshiyomi unleashed the tornado.
Tsunade would charge in, using her monstrous strength to pin the salamander.
Hoshiyomi would engage Hanzō directly.
Meanwhile, Jiraiya and Orochimaru would lead the rest of the forces to decimate the Ame shinobi.
Hanzō was left completely unable to intervene.
Like a relentless shadow, Hoshiyomi followed Hanzō wherever he went. He couldn't beat Hanzō one-on-one—but he could keep up with his speed.
Wherever Hanzō moved, Hoshiyomi was there. He had no chance to target anyone else.
And worse yet—Hanzō could feel it.
Hoshiyomi was getting stronger. Every time they clashed, he adapted faster, predicted better. At first, Hoshiyomi had needed Orochimaru to bail him out. But now, he'd practically memorized Hanzō's techniques, and between his Shunpo (Instant Step) speed and refined kenjutsu, Hanzō could no longer land a clean hit.
Hanzō had tried using poison gas—but Hoshiyomi's Wind Barrier dispelled it before it could spread.
With morale soaring from their successive victories, Konoha's troops fought like madmen. Brave, relentless, unyielding.
To Hanzō, it felt like he was a carry dragging four deadweight teammates—no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the enemy from snowballing.
He could only watch helplessly as the enemy's key player gained levels, stacked power, and turned the tide of battle.
More than once, Hanzō thought to himself—if only my men weren't so useless, everything would be different.
But no matter how he trained them, no matter how he rallied them—when the battles came, they folded.
Eventually, Hanzō simply gave up on attacking Konoha altogether. He shifted his focus to bullying Suna and Iwa along their shared front.
As long as Konoha didn't advance, he had no intention of bothering them. He'd rather drive out Suna and Iwa first.
Konoha, for their part, didn't press the offensive too far. Once they reached a stable frontline, they stopped expanding.
Only the Konoha shinobi truly understood why they stopped.
Because Tsunade's antidote was nearing its final development stage.
Everyone could feel it—that this was the calm before the storm.
Once Tsunade's antidote was complete… it would trigger a war that could change the entire balance of power.
During this time, Hoshiyomi wasn't idle.
He ignored Danzō's orders from the rear, even tearing up a military directive from him in public.
Then he did something even bolder—he stayed right where he was.
Why? To win hearts.
Well, to be fair, he didn't need to "win" hearts—he already had them. His performance across multiple battles had made him the de facto spiritual leader of the front lines. His word carried as much weight as Hiruzen Sarutobi's.
From there, he began subtly enacting his next move—reviving the Senju Clan.
Using both Mito Uzumaki's written letter and Tsunade's name, he began quietly elevating individuals on his list—Senju and Uzumaki descendants—one by one.
And with the frontline now united by his leadership, no one dared to oppose him.
Progress was steady and unimpeded.
The plan to restore the Senju Clan was underway—step by step.
And once the war ended, the Senju revival would no longer be just a vision—it would be inevitable.
Author's Note:
I already have a bold idea in mind for Danzō and Konoha's internal future.
You can rest easy—once the Second War ends, Konoha's political situation will NOT be as stifling and tragic as it was in canon.