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The sentence trailed off. No one needed him to finish. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Tsunade finally spoke, her voice cutting through the gloom like a scalpel. "Let's strip the emotions from this for a moment. We're not debating feelings. We're debating numbers, bodies, stamina. Kumo has already inflicted severe losses on our forces in Hot Water. The Raikage's son has been rampaging through the frontlines, and the jinchuriki has shattered at least two of our divisions. Every unit we've sent has returned broken. Minato's squad is the only reason we've held ground at all. But if the Raikage himself enters the field? The balance tilts entirely. Jiraya making an appearance will not change anything."
She leaned forward, hands on the table, her eyes fixed on Hiruzen. "Even with Minato and Kushina, they cannot hold that line alone. That's not a criticism—it's reality."
Danzo seized the pause. His voice was calm, but each word was a knife aimed at Hiruzen. "Then it seems inevitable, doesn't it? If the enemy's Kage makes an appearance, so too must ours. Unless, of course, Konoha wishes to send the message that its Hokage fears battle."
Jiraiya's eyes snapped to him. "Don't twist this, Danzo. We're not debating fear. We're debating strategy. If the Hokage falls, Konoha is finished. That's exactly what Kumo wants—to drag our leader into the mud. Sensei doesn't need to prove himself to anyone."
Danzo's expression didn't change, but his words struck sharper now. "On the contrary. A Hokage must prove himself every day, to both enemies and allies alike. If Sarutobi hides while others bleed, whispers will spread. Whispers become doubt. Doubt rots the foundation of leadership. Would you prefer that, Jiraiya?"
The two men locked eyes, tension crackling. Hiruzen raised a hand, stopping the argument before it spiraled. "I will go."
The words were quiet, but final. Everyone froze, eyes snapping toward him.
"Sensei—!" Jiraiya started, half-rising from his seat.
Hiruzen cut him off with a sharp look. "Enough. You've said it yourself, Tsunade. Numbers, bodies, stamina. We cannot withstand the Raikage's full weight unless I stand at that front. If I go, we hold. If I stay behind, we bleed until there is nothing left."
Tsunade frowned, fists clenching. She hated this, but she could not deny the truth. "Then at least let us reinforce with medical divisions. If you're putting yourself on the line, the wounded must be cycled back fast, or we'll collapse regardless."
Hiruzen nodded. "Approved. Organize it at once."
He turned then to Jiraiya, his gaze softer but no less firm. "You and Tsunade will remain in reserve. If Iwagakure seizes the opportunity of my absence to make a move, you will counter them immediately. Orochimaru is already engaged in their theater. We cannot afford to leave that flank exposed."
Jiraiya shook his head in frustration, but forced himself to sit back down. "Sensei, if something happens—"
"If something happens," Hiruzen said, his voice carrying the authority of decades, "then the next generation of Konoha will take my place."
Danzo's single visible eye gleamed in the half-light. Whether it was approval, calculation, or barely restrained ambition, none could say. He had gotten what he wanted, one way or another.
The courier shifted nervously, sensing the weight of the decisions made above his station. Outside, the faint sound of rain began to patter against the tiled roof, a soft drumbeat against the storm of war gathering on all sides.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The council chamber was filled only with the quiet crackle of the oil lamps. Then Hiruzen rose, pipe set aside, and placed both hands on the map spread before him.
"Konoha has bled enough," he said quietly. "If the Raikage wishes to test the will of the Leaf, then let him face it head-on."
The others watched him, each carrying their own thoughts. Tsunade, calculating the number of lives she might save. Jiraiya, worrying for his student and the girl who held the Nine-Tails. Danzo, already scheming how this gamble might reshape the village's future. And in the center of it all, the Third Hokage prepared to carry Konoha's burden once again, knowing full well that one misstep could cost him everything.
--
The arrival of the Third Raikage was like a thunderclap rolling through the Kumo camp. News spread before his armored silhouette even appeared at the edge of the battlefield. Word leapt from shinobi to shinobi: their Kage was here. The embodiment of unbreakable strength, the man who had stood against entire armies. Soldiers who had been limping from wounds straightened their backs. Veterans whispered in awe. The exhausted and demoralized felt their resolve harden.
The massive black and gold tent at the center of camp swelled with activity. Guards reinforced its perimeter, scouts ran in and out with reports, and the faint metallic clink of weapons being sharpened filled the night air. Inside, a large table dominated the space, maps of the Land of Hot Water spread across its surface, pins and markers scattered like pieces on a shogi board.
Raikage Ay sat at the head of the table, his massive frame dwarfing the chair, his battle cloak hanging heavy on his shoulders. Renga, his trusted adviser, stood to his right with Kohaku no Jōhei resting in a reinforced scroll case on his back. The relic glowed faintly through its seals, ominous and absolute, a reminder of the power it carried.
Across from them sat his son, the younger Ay hungry for battle plain in his sharp gaze. Beside him was Killer B, humming softly to himself in a rhythm only he understood, but his expression sobered when his brother nudged him to silence.
The tent quieted as the Raikage spoke. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"Report."
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A/N: Raikage has arrived. Hiruzen will take time coz he started late.
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