The ceasefire talks between the Akatsuki and Kumogakure restarted once more.
This time, the venue was chosen entirely by the Akatsuki, and the number of delegates far exceeded Uchiha Makoto's expectations. Not only Akatsuki Village, the Uzumaki clan, Konohagakure, Kumogakure, and Iwagakure took part—many smaller ninja villages also sent representatives to rub shoulders and use the chance to build ties with giants like the Akatsuki and Konoha. The daimyō of the Land of Fire, the Land of Lightning, the Land of Earth, and other nations, large and small, all attended to ensure the talks went smoothly.
The specifications of this ceasefire summit were unprecedentedly high.
Even so…
Outside the conference hall it was deafeningly noisy.
Akatsuki shinobi and members of the Uzumaki clan were trading trash talk with Kumogakure's ninja.
"Kumo shinobi, count yourselves lucky. Be thankful our Lord of Light and Shadow is merciful, or we'd have marched straight into your village this time!"
"Big talk. A bunch of ambushers with no shinobi ethics, rich boys who only win with a tailwind. You think I'm afraid of you? Come fight me one-on-one!"
"Come on then! I'm not scared of you!"
The bodyguards of the daimyō hurried forward to separate them, afraid tempers would boil over and a brawl would erupt outside the hall.
Though the corridor rang with quarrels, the atmosphere inside the chamber was harmonious. After all, only those with status, rank, and power could enter; unlike the grunts outside, they would not discard decorum.
Even arch-enemies like the Second Raikage and Uchiha Makoto kept up appearances and shook hands with polite smiles.
Of course…
Makoto smiled broadly, while the Second Raikage's smile was painfully stiff. The bolder Makoto's grin, the more awkward the Raikage became; in such a setting he couldn't tear off the mask, so he stood there, forcing a smile like a fool.
A professional photographer captured the scene. In later days it spread across the shinobi world and was even hailed as a classic moment in history, earning Kumogakure another round of collective mockery. But that was for later.
Soon,
the talks officially began.
All delegates took their seats, and the room fell silent.
As one of today's protagonists,
the Second Raikage fixed his cold, razor-sharp eyes on Uchiha Makoto.
An unconditional ceasefire was impossible now.
In truth, these talks were a surrender negotiation, and the pressure the Raikage had endured over this ceasefire was nightmarish.
Outside the village,
when he met his daimyō, the lord pressed and scolded him for days.
The Lightning daimyō was livid over the outcome. In the end, ninja villages and countries are symbiotic: the daimyō pays regularly to arm the village; the village safeguards the daimyō's rule.
Despite friction, they generally get along.
To a daimyō, a ninja village is the nation's gun, and the gun is the ruler's backbone. How do great nations bully small ones and force them to show deference each year?
By their ninja villages.
Small nations cannot afford powerful villages.
But the Land of Lightning is a famed great power, not some minor state like the Land of Grass. The village it has painstakingly funded—Kumogakure—was almost driven to the brink by the Akatsuki's push on their home base.
If Iwagakure hadn't suddenly entered to shore up the critical third line of defense, if multiple forces hadn't rushed to pressure the Akatsuki, how could the war have ended so "easily"?
Kumogakure not only fought disgracefully; even the war indemnities would require the daimyō to bankroll them from behind just to keep them afloat. Having lost, they could hardly cough up more; asking for more was like asking for their lives.
Even so, the daimyō would still have to inject funds to rearm Kumo. Ninja tools cost money, medicine costs money, death benefits and training new blood cost even more. A village's combat power correlates directly with its budget.
They couldn't let Kumogakure collapse.
Every daimyō stands atop power and wealth; to the Lightning lord, spending some treasure was nothing. What he truly minded was Kumo's crushing defeat.
The Land of Fire's lord's calm gaze felt like naked ridicule.
And he couldn't even retaliate.
The Lightning daimyō is hot-tempered by nature—how could he stomach it?
In short, he was furious and the consequences grave. The Second Raikage became his emotional punching bag, cursed bloody.
The Second Raikage felt wronged.
The war began under the First Raikage's tenure, but the First had fallen gloriously. Dying on the battlefield is the highest honor for a shinobi; that death could wash away his misdeeds in office. Even the Lightning daimyō had to grant him a grand state funeral and a splendid cenotaph.
Makoto, who succeeded midstream, was left to carry the blame.
Besides, the Akatsuki had launched a sneak attack without a declaration—utterly lacking shinobi ethics—and where did they get so much money?
Explosive tags as if endless!
But the Lightning lord wouldn't listen.
We gave you plenty of funding.
A loss is a loss. No excuses.
Inside the village, pressure mounted too.
As the First Raikage's successor, avenging him was a political task that had to be completed.
But given Kumo's current state, they could no longer sustain the fight. Though as hot-blooded as his predecessor, the Second Raikage's strategic vision was not shallow.
Facing an enemy as wealthy, well-supplied, and well-allied as the Akatsuki, if they couldn't crush them immediately, then they had to endure and await the right moment. They must not drag Kumo into an abyss.
Unfortunately, not everyone in Kumo agreed.
For most people,
rushing to die in hot blood is easy.
But the humiliation of Han Xin crawling between legs, of Goujian sleeping on brushwood and tasting gall—how many can truly endure that?
He had to suppress the younger generation's thirst for revenge and hunt the hidden opposition inside the village. Yet those opponents hid among the loudest avengers of the First Raikage—some had ulterior motives, some were gloating, some genuinely wanted revenge. The mix was complex.
For the moment, he couldn't sort them out to strike decisively.
He could only stumble forward, dragging Kumo with him.
"War is cruel beyond my imagination."
"Before we begin, I ask everyone to stand and observe one minute of silence for the Kumogakure shinobi who died in this war."
Stung by recent humiliation—and by Makoto's unrestrained laughter just now—the Second Raikage decided to play a small trick to salvage face.
Makoto had been proclaiming across the shinobi world that he loved peace, a guardian of peace.
Kumo, after all, was a victim of the war.
Calling for a minute of silence for the victims was perfectly reasonable.
He finished speaking
and stood up.
The First Tsuchikage rose right after him.
"Ridiculous, trying that on me."
Uchiha Makoto scoffed inwardly and sat firmly, not moving an inch.
Hearing the request, Senju Tobirama thought nothing of it and reflexively stood. But when he noticed Makoto still seated, composed, he immediately understood.
Don't stand. No one stands.
Because Konoha was an ally, he could only sit back down awkwardly, cursing in his heart: "Damn it, Uchiha Makoto, you evil little Uchiha, you made me look foolish again!"
"Just you wait!"
"I'll develop another forbidden technique specifically for the Uchiha!"
Uzumaki Shinji, sharper than most, showed excellent instincts. He glanced at Makoto, saw him seated and serene, and made his choice.
If big brother doesn't stand,
neither do I.
Tobirama's stand-then-sit made him quietly lower his evaluation of Konoha once more.
Many small-village delegates didn't realize they were in a compliance test.
Some who wanted to curry favor with the Akatsuki rose, then immediately sat. Others tried to offend neither side, half-bending with their hips hovering, afraid to sit.
The photographer captured yet another image that would be widely circulated in posterity.
For a moment,
the room displayed all manner of human faces.
Watching the tableau, Uchiha Makoto felt a surge of satisfaction. Power at the top—having the biggest fist—was wonderful.
His controversial war to establish prestige had been worth it. He had fully forged the Akatsuki's renown and taken the first steps to establish its hegemony over the shinobi world.
Every casual move could compel others to follow.
Who would provoke a powerful, vengeful village willing to go to war at any cost?
The moment of silence began.
Makoto sat there at ease, eyes tilted up toward the standing Second Raikage. Though he looked up, in truth it was a downward gaze. The bizarre, farcical scene was like a slap across Kumo's face.
Reality needed no extra words.
Kumo was a beaten dog yapping in vain; petty gestures only added laughter.
The Raikage's face was corpse-pale; veins bulged on his clenched fists. He couldn't sit now—doing so would make Kumo a greater joke—so he steeled himself and stood the "minute."
But as for a full minute,
Makoto counted silently. From standing to the start of silence, the Raikage lasted only twenty-two seconds. Likely even he was too ashamed to hold out.
When it ended,
the Raikage remained standing, but everyone else rushed into their seats.
Just as they sat,
Makoto spoke again.
"Everyone, I ask that we all stand for one minute of silence for all shinobi who died in this war."
He stood. Uzumaki Shinji rose right after. Senju Tobirama, unwilling at heart, stood as well. The small-village delegates stood one after another.
The First Tsuchikage felt deep helplessness.
He knew Makoto was expressing displeasure at Kumo's ploy, beginning a public flogging.
Kumo fools!
Unconditional ceasefire before—this now as well!
Why do you always play petty tricks at critical moments?
He fumed inwardly.
The Second Raikage's eyes burned with murder. The earlier scene had slapped his left cheek; this now slapped the right. Twice humiliated.
Uchiha Makoto, just you wait.
One day,
I'll kill you!
Makoto ignored his murderous glare. Many wanted him dead; who did this man think he was?
Get in line behind Senju Tobirama.
If fate really converges,
you two will be good brothers one day—walking together, even companions to the Yellow Springs.
In the end, the Raikage stood too.
This time, everyone stood.
Silence began.
When it ended,
Makoto deliberately didn't sit.
He stood in place for three heartbeats.
All eyes were on him.
They feared he would pull another stunt. Only when Makoto smiled in satisfaction and slowly sat did everyone breathe out and take their seats.
All day, Senju Tobirama had been reduced to background, driven half mad with jealousy.
Konoha is clearly the strongest village, yet as its representative he felt no aura of dominance today.
Damn it.
He had become the foil to that "innately evil" Uchiha brat, letting Makoto perform a one-man show and steal the spotlight.
"Konoha… can't keep going like this. It must change."
At last, Tobirama understood why Makoto insisted on fighting this war.
A sharp blade hidden in a box has no deterrent. It must be stained with blood.
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