The Hokage's office smelled of ink and old paper. Scrolls were stacked in neat piles on the desk, but none of them seemed to matter at the moment. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, exhaled slowly through his pipe as a messenger-nin knelt before him, still damp from the rain outside.
"Say it again," Hiruzen murmured. His voice was quiet, but the weight of it filled the room.
The messenger bowed lower. "Reports from our operatives in the Land of Water. The Fourth Mizukage, Yagura Karatachi… is dead."
Silence. Only the faint hiss of tobacco burned between breaths.
Across from Hiruzen, Homura and Koharu exchanged sharp glances. Danzo Shimura, leaning on his cane near the window, didn't move at all. His single eye glinted in the dim light.
"And the manner of his death?" Hiruzen asked.
The messenger hesitated. "Unclear, Hokage-sama. Some say it was an assassination. Others whisper… a rebellion. The name Mei Terumī has been mentioned. And… another. A youth, clanless, but dangerous. They call him Kozan."
That name hung in the air like a curse.
Homura snorted. "A child, leading the Mist? Impossible. If this is true, Kirigakure is weaker than ever."
"Or more dangerous than ever," Koharu countered. "Do not forget, instability breeds desperation. A drowning man will drag others down with him."
Danzo finally spoke, his voice low, gravelly. "This is an opportunity."
Hiruzen's pipe clicked softly against the ashtray as he set it down. His expression didn't change, but his eyes were sharp. "Opportunity? Explain."
Danzo stepped forward, leaning on his cane. "For years, Yagura's Bloody Mist kept its people in fear. Their power was contained by brutality. Now that cage has been shattered. New leadership means new ambition. They may turn outward. Seek allies. Or worse—enemies." He paused, letting his words hang. "If this Mei Terumī gains power with this… Kozan at her side, they may rebuild stronger than ever. Strong enough to challenge our balance."
Homura frowned. "And if they collapse instead? Civil war across the seas could spill into our borders."
Koharu's lips pressed thin. "Either way, Konoha must act cautiously. We cannot ignore this."
Hiruzen sat back, hands folded in his lap. His eyes drifted to the window where rain traced slow lines down the glass. Beyond the village walls, the world shifted in ways no one could predict.
"What of the other villages?" he asked quietly.
The messenger replied quickly. "Our sources suggest Kumogakure has already dispatched envoys to 'observe' the situation. Iwagakure remains silent, though their history with Kirigakure suggests… interest. Sunagakure has done nothing yet."
"Of course," Danzo muttered. "The vultures circle."
Hiruzen's gaze flicked to him. "And what would you have us do, Danzo? Intervene? Tip the scales in a village still bleeding from civil strife?"
Danzo did not flinch. "Yes. Quietly. If this Kozan boy is as dangerous as reports suggest, he should be eliminated before he matures further. Better yet, controlled. He could be an asset—if properly guided."
A cold silence followed his words. Even Homura and Koharu shifted uncomfortably, though neither outright disagreed.
Hiruzen closed his eyes for a long moment. He had seen this before—how fear twisted into preemptive violence. The balance between nations was a fragile thing, and any shift could trigger another war.
When he spoke again, his voice was calm but firm. "No rash action. Not yet. We will watch. We will listen. If Mei Terumī consolidates power, we may open diplomatic channels. If she fails, the Mist will tear itself apart without our interference."
Danzo's jaw tightened, but he bowed his head slightly. "As you wish, Hokage-sama."
The meeting should have ended there. But Hiruzen's instincts gnawed at him, the way they always did when the seas grew restless. He turned back to the messenger.
"Tell me," Hiruzen said, "this Kozan… what do they say of him?"
The messenger swallowed. "That he spares where others kill. That the mist itself bends around him. That he faced Yagura and lived."
Hiruzen's pipe smoke drifted upward, curling like gray serpents. He did not speak.
But Danzo's voice broke the quiet again. "A weapon," he murmured. "Make no mistake. And weapons… must either be wielded or destroyed."
Hiruzen's eyes hardened, though his voice stayed level. "And sometimes, Danzo, weapons break the hand that grips them."
---
That night, after the council dispersed, Hiruzen stood alone by the window. The rain had stopped, but the rooftops of Konoha still gleamed with silver reflections of the moon.
He thought of the Mist—of children forced to kill their classmates, of blood mixing with fog. He thought of Mei Terumī, whom he had never met but knew by reputation: strong, intelligent, dangerous. And this Kozan, a boy with no clan, no legacy, and yet already shaping history.
Hiruzen exhaled a long breath.
The world was changing again.
And the ripples from across the sea were already reaching Konoha's shores.
---