Land of Lightning
Akatsuki vs. Kumogakure front.
Rumble…
"Damn it!"
"This outpost is packed with so many explosive tags again!"
"How many did Akatsuki prepare this time? Just around this one site there must be no fewer than three hundred tags buried!"
"Why is no one here? Did they all pull out early?"
A chain of detonations rolled through the woods.
More than twenty elite Cloud jōnin flash-stepped between trees, blasted dusty and ragged by the relentless explosions.
Fortunately, they were veteran Kumogakure jōnin, battle-hardened killers who'd crawled out of piles of corpses. They'd already tasted Akatsuki's outrageous explosive-tag tactics these past weeks and had braced for a bombardment before setting out, so there were no casualties.
Once they confirmed the area was safe,
the Cloud jōnin relaxed a fraction, cursing Akatsuki's dirty tricks as they caught their breath. Still, their mood wasn't bad.
They were alive.
Only the First Raikage's face was dark.
Shinobi warfare lives on feint and reality, on ambush and assassination through information gaps. Monsters like Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara are rare exceptions. This site had housed over a hundred wounded Akatsuki for a time, and Uchiha Makoto often came alone to visit the injured.
If they actually caught Uchiha Makoto moving solo, the war might end early.
At the same time,
the First Raikage had been dispatching teams to hunt down Uchiha Makoto's hideouts.
A precisely planned decapitation strike can end any war.
He'd also schemed long to get intel on this outpost.
Wiping out over a hundred Akatsuki, even if wounded, would be a major victory.
Kumogakure desperately needed a win to lift plummeting morale.
But they'd come up empty.
"Perimeter team, set a temporary guard. Recon team, sweep the site for any leftover intel or supplies. Everyone else, find a place to rest."
"Yes, Lord Raikage!"
The First Raikage issued orders; the jōnin chorused back.
The heat was mounting.
A blazing sun hammered the earth, turning it into a furnace.
After hours of forced marching, the jōnin rushed to the shade the moment they were dismissed. Even the Raikage, simmering over the failed raid, found a cool spot to recover his strength.
"Soldier pills with plain water— even the daimyō can't compare to us…"
A half-sung line drifted over.
Heads turned.
A jōnin, chewing a soldier pill and swigging water, had broken into song.
"Real leisurely, huh… Aren't you afraid the daimyō will wipe out your nine clans?"
"What's there to fear? We live like there's no tomorrow anyway…"
Several jōnin chomped soldier pills and sipped water, cracking jokes about "nine-clan wipeout."
To save time,
the Raikage and his strike team traveled on soldier pills and water—war-time standard. Even the First Raikage didn't enjoy special rations.
As for the disrespect toward daimyō…
the Raikage's already-dark face sank further. Annoyance flared, but knowing what the front-line shinobi were enduring, he swallowed the rebuke on his tongue.
He couldn't help it.
His brothers had it too hard.
Combat stress was crushing. If he wouldn't allow even a bit of venting, that would be too harsh.
Punish a man for griping now and the unit might mutiny.
So the First Raikage held his peace.
His blame lay less with the "mouthy" jōnin,
and more with himself.
This was his failure as the First Raikage,
and his shinobi, who believed in him, were paying the price.
If only he'd been more cautious at the start,
the war wouldn't be like this.
Just then,
cheers broke out.
Recon had returned.
They hadn't found useful documents—Akatsuki had either evacuated with them or burned them on the spot—but they had found something else.
A hidden cellar the enemy hadn't managed to destroy, a sub-level cold room buried underground.
"Akatsuki's steaks…"
"This stuff is called chocolate, right?"
"Oh man, so much ice cream?"
Shouts of delight echoed.
Those resting in the shade got up at once and headed for the cold room. Grins spread across tired faces.
A blessed surprise.
War runs on money, grain, and logistics.
The shinobi world's campaigns are no different.
And right now Kumogakure's logistics were buckling.
Akatsuki had spent months stockpiling for war, while the Cloud had been blindsided.
Kumo lacked the time and cash to prep for an unprecedented village-scale war. Their costly first and second defensive lines had been smashed, the supplies stored there captured by Akatsuki… and the Cloud's logistics were already in distress.
Keep this up,
and Cloud shinobi would really be eating soldier pills and water for three meals a day.
Just thinking it
gave the Raikage a headache.
Soldier pills were never designed with flavor in mind. They're emergency fuel to restore chakra and stamina in battle, to keep a shinobi from starving or crashing. Taste and morale were never part of the recipe.
Still,
for now,
the Raikage set worries aside and followed his men.
The cold room lay in a concealed cellar.
Such a build isn't cheap…
Akatsuki hadn't wanted to blow it, and they'd gambled the Cloud wouldn't find such a hidden place.
Unlucky for them—the Cloud did.
"Bastards… Akatsuki is living large."
"They poured a fortune into a cellar just to make an ice room? Ice cream, steak, chocolate, the works. Do they think they're noble lords? Everyone's been grinding—split it up. We can't carry this stuff anyway, and we sure aren't leaving it for Akatsuki."
The Raikage's brief joy vanished at the sight of the cold room.
All his shelved worries surged back.
Akatsuki didn't outfight them by much—mainly they pressed the edge with mountains of explosive tags.
But beyond the tags, their logistics and funding were leagues stronger.
If this continued…
Kumogakure's future looked grim.
The following Cloud shinobi weren't thinking that far. They whooped.
They'd been padding every meal with soldier pills for days. It had been forever since they'd eaten a proper feast.
Now they finally could.
Akatsuki steaks came out of the cold room.
A fire-style specialist already had a blaze roaring and a pot set. Onlookers refused to leave.
They munched chocolate piece by piece, sweet flooding their tongues, dopamine rising.
Soon,
a mouthwatering aroma wafted from the pot.
They shoved half-eaten chocolate into pockets and swarmed the finished steaks.
Then they hauled out tubs of ice cream for dessert. Who doesn't want icy sweetness in blazing summer?
"Damn Akatsuki… a bunch of pampered princelings…"
"If they didn't have bottomless cash and budget, we'd have beaten them already… Where do they even get all those explosive tags!"
They griped between spoonfuls of Akatsuki ice cream.
The Raikage listened, helpless.
Budgets and logistics had him tied in knots…
and there was that cursed public-opinion war.
For reasons unknown, though Kumogakure was the victim, the whole shinobi world seemed hostile, calling them the culprits who started this war.
In the end,
the Raikage could only dig his spoon deep as if the ice cream were Uchiha Makoto, the war's instigator, and swallow a huge bite.
Damn… it tasted good.
Fed and watered,
the Raikage prepared to lead his team back to their own outpost.
Suddenly,
a communications jōnin sprinted over. He had a contract summoning beast devoted to message relay. A priority report tumbled from the creature's mouth.
"Lord Raikage, urgent message."
"What—Konohagakure has mobilized?"
Fear flickered in the Raikage's eyes.
He could ignore the shinobi world's jeers—buzzing gnats at his ears.
Even the logistics headache, while real, hadn't yet reached do-or-die.
Let his brothers suffer for a time; he'd shoulder the infamy.
Akatsuki had gone too far. If they had to eat soldier pills and water three times a day, they'd endure.
Even if they couldn't win, they'd fight Akatsuki to a draw.
Fates cross again. Today Akatsuki ambushes and invades… one day Kumogakure will settle the score.
But if Konoha was entering the war…
that would crush a Cloud already on the back foot. One Akatsuki was hard enough. Add Konoha, and there was no point continuing. It would be surrender on the spot.
But surrender?
Impossible.
No matter what, they could not yield now.
Put aside the Raikage's pride.
If Kumogakure's first war since its founding ended in capitulation, how would they stand in the shinobi world?
They'd be three steps shorter at every meeting.
And what about the Cloud shinobi already dead?
He hadn't avenged them yet.
"We cannot surrender, no matter what!"
"Looks like we'll have to gamble…"
Akatsuki outpost.
"So that naturally evil Senju Tobirama finally couldn't hold back and is marching?"
"I figured you'd stall till the bitter end…"
Uchiha Makoto scanned the intel in his hand, murmuring.
The seeds he'd casually sown before the war had borne some fruit in Konoha.
Spreading the 'Akatsuki always wins' line, stirring villagers to riot, gathering to protest at the Hokage Building… Tobirama had crushed it with force,
but the aftershocks were only starting. Akatsuki would have plenty of chances to make hay later. For now Makoto had no time to work that angle—those were matters for another day.
As for Konoha's deployment…
Makoto felt both relief and worry.
Even with Akatsuki ahead on the battlefield, a war of attrition like this bled them too. The longer it dragged, the higher the cost.
Even with Akatsuki's fast recovery,
they couldn't hemorrhage forever.
The more Akatsuki died, the worse for his plans down the line.
If Konoha's entry shortened the war,
all the better.
But with Senju Tobirama commanding the Leaf forces, nothing good ever followed. After so long grinding, Akatsuki had paid plenty. Letting Tobirama skim victory spoils so easily…
left Makoto thoroughly annoyed.
"We'll meet soldiers with generals, water with earth."
Nothing for it.
Tobirama's luck was too good.
He had the world's apex big brother covering him. For now, Makoto saw no choice but to respond passively.
Later—when Senju Hashirama was dead—
there would be time to deal with Tobirama. Impure World Reincarnation… even after death, Tobirama wouldn't get off easy.
His lab could use a research workhorse like that.
If he wouldn't work, there'd be lashes.
That had its own pleasures.
And bring Uchiha Izuna along…
let him do it personally.
Makoto's thoughts flickered, and he actually felt amused.
Compared to Kumogakure, his bit of anxiety was nothing.
For Akatsuki this war would end in either a big win or a medium win.
A win, regardless.
But the Cloud was different. They were the ones truly desperate…
Desperation breeds rashness. Rashness breeds mistakes…
Mistakes hand him the chance to end things quickly.
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