The council chamber smelled faintly of ink and candle smoke. Four long days of negotiations had finally worn the edges off even the most stubborn voices, namely Homura and Koharu. Now, only the final scrolls and waiting brushes remained between war and alliance.
My father sat at the head of the table, his presence steady as stone. Beside him, Homura and Koharu murmured to one another; their sharp whispers carrying just enough to betray their dissatisfaction. Across from them, Pakura and Chiyo sat composed, the lines of fatigue hidden well but not gone. Behind them, their aides waited silently like I did, and I wondered if they were as bored as I was.
Hiruzen's hand moved first gliding the brush across parchment with quiet precision. Pakura followed suit, her strokes deliberate, as though each mark of ink carried the weight of her people's survival, which it didin a sense. When the brushes were set aside, a hush fell over the chamber.
"It is done," my father said, his voice calm but carrying through the room like a command. "The Leaf and the Sand will support one another directly against the Mist and the Stone until this war is ended, and for ten years beyond the end of the war, we will remain allies."
Pakura inclined her head. "So agreed."
Koharu's mouth tightened, but she said nothing. Homura exhaled softly; the resignation on his face was plain to see.
My father leaned back slightly, his gaze sweeping the table. "With this alliance sealed, our forces must be realigned. I will reassign Orochimaru to command the Stone front in the Rain Country. His strength will be best used there."
Chiyo's eyes narrowed faintly, but she nodded. "Then I will lend my experience and bring Rasa along to guide our forces beside him. Together, they will hold that front."
Pakura's eyes flicked toward me for a moment then said in an even tone. "As for myself, I will lead a strike force in tandem with Konoha's, and I request that Sarutobi Akari be stationed there as well. She has proven herself to be… capable. I would feel much more confident in our alliance if I can keep an eye on her directly."
The words were smooth, but I heard the layers beneath them. It was not just a request to monitor me, but a bid to keep me where she could keep in regular contact with me. I could not help but wonder if she was truly interested in my ideas for peace after this war.
Hiruzen's eyes flickered in my direction before returning to Pakura. "Very well. Akari will be stationed with on the Mist front."
His voice was even, but I caught the faint glint in his gaze. He had his own reasons for agreeing, and those had nothing to do with Pakura's request. Pakura gave a single sharp nod, satisfied.
"It is agreed," my father continued. "The formal movement of troops will begin two weeks from now. Until then, each side will prepare their troops for the change."
Pakura and her aides rose, bowing slightly before withdrawing. Chiyo followed after shooting me a glare, but I simply chuckled to myself. The chamber felt emptier without them, but the air was no lighter.
Homura leaned forward almost immediately, once the door was closed. "Hiruzen, this treaty is too lenient. We should have demanded more reparations... supplies, territory, something tangible for the blood we've already spilled."
Koharu added, her voice clipped, "You've tied Konoha to the Sand for ten years yet gained us nothing beyond promises of cooperation. The people will not see this as victory, only compromise."
My father did not raise his voice, but the weight in his tone pressed down on the room. "What the people will see is fewer coffins. What our shinobi will feel is relief when the Sand stops cutting them down on the battlefield and poisoning them. That is worth more than the gold that Suna does not have, and it secures Konoha's position against the Mist and Stone where the true threat lies."
Homura's jaw worked, but he said nothing more. Koharu pursed her lips, clearly unsatisfied, yet even she couldn't deny his reasoning. I watched in silence, as I often did in this chamber. I had seen my father argue with his elders before, but never with the stakes this high. For the first time, I realized how lonely his chair at the head of the table must be.
The old relics... I mean, elders stood and left the chamber without another word. The door slammed shut behind them, echoing their disapproval in the silence they left behind. For a few heartbeats, my father did not speak. He remained seated at the head of the table, hands folded, the quiet air of authority still clinging to him even though the council was over. The candlelight caught in the lines of his face, making him look older than usual, weighed down not by battle but by politics. Then, at last, he turned his gaze to me, and the Hokage's mask softened into something far more familiar.
"Akari," he said quietly, his voice steady but firm, "the time has come for you to carry more than missions and skirmishes. I want you to take command of the Mist front."
I blinked, stunned despite everything I had done already. A laugh slipped out, sharp with disbelief. "Commander of the Mist front? Father, I don't even turn seventeen until next week. You really want to hand me a war front as a birthday gift?"
The faintest smile touched his lips, though his eyes stayed serious. "Your age is not the measure by which I judge you. You have already done what many seasoned jonin would have faltered at. The army knows your name now; the Sand fears your strength. Above all, though, you are Sarutobi, and my daughter. That name alone carries the weight of expectation, whether you like it or not. You don't have the luxury of shying away from the spotlight this time."
His words pressed heavier than the silence. They were a reminder of a legacy I had never been able to escape since the day I was born. I shifted in my chair, arms folding loosely across my chest.
"You're serious," I muttered.
"I am," he replied simply. "But you will not be alone. I will assign Shikaku Nara to support you. He will handle logistics, planning, and the slow grind of supply lines and strategy. He has the mind for it while you have the power to protect what he designs."
As I thought about it, I could not help but think it was a perfect setup for me. With Shikaku there, I would be free to train, to fight where I was most effective, and to leave the endless paperwork in his capable hands. Yet I could not bring myself to agree... at least, not right away.
"And you truly believe I'm ready for this?" I asked at last.
My father's eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger but in a perceptive way that I had seen too many times growing up. He leaned forward, resting his hands lightly on the desk. "I know that hesitation, Akari. It's not doubt. You're holding something back because you want something in return. So, tell me, what are you after this time?"
He sounded amused, and that was enough to break my feigned solemnity with a chuckle. I smiled faintly, caught. "Fine, you want me to lead an entire front? Then I want something for me and for my team. I want a new set of combat gear; personalized, not just the standard issue flak jacket. And, I want weapons for my team: Asuma needs a new, high-end set of trench knives, nunchaku for Guy, and a short sword for Kurenai."
Hiruzen sighed, long-suffering but not angry. "You sound more like your mother every day. Always negotiating." His expression softened again. "Very well. Speak with her tonight about what you need. We'll see that the gear is commissioned and completed before your deployment."
I leaned back with a grin. "Thanks."
"Of course," he said, but then his tone shifted back toward command. "There is one condition. Tomorrow, you will escort Pakura and her group back to their camp. It may seem a simple task, but it is one I expect you to treat with care. Their safety, until they are behind their own lines, is in our interest as much as theirs. Do not forget that."
I gave a short bow of my head. "Understood. I'll see them back safely."
His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, and the warmth in it reminded me that beneath the Hokage's robes, he was still my father. "You carry the expectations of this village, Akari. You carry the weight of the Sarutobi name. But you've never disappointed me, and I don't believe you ever will."
I smiled faintly, feeling the quiet pride behind them, and rose to my feet. "Then I'll keep up my good work."
"Go," he said gently, waving me toward the door. "You've done enough for one day. Rest while you can."
I left the chamber with my head held high, already turning over the next steps in my mind. Commanding the Mist front would allow me to do more things than simply train, but I also had a duty to the ninjas that I led to make sure as many as possible could come home. I had a few interesting ideas that could be game-changing with a little help from Kushina and the proper strategy from Shikaku, but that could wait until I returned from escorting Pakura back.
Leaving the Hokage's Tower behind, I took my time crossing through the village. The sky was beginning to darken, and lanterns flickered to life one by one down the streets. It was nice to be back in the village, even if I knew it would be short-lived. Since I needed to update my team about our redeployment, I decided it was a good excuse to treat them to barbecue.
I found Asuma first since I knew his favorite hiding spot tucked away in a small garden within the Sarutobi compound. He leaned against a tree with one leg crossed over the other, exhaling smoke into the twilight. A cigarette glowed between his fingers, the smell sharp and acrid. He did not notice me at first since he was too focused on sneaking in his guilty pleasure while our mother was not watching.
"You better make sure mom doesn't smell those on you, or you'll be grounded for the rest of the time that we're in the village," I teased.
He was startled and nearly dropped his cigarette then groaned when he saw me. "She hasn't caught me yet."
"Sure, she hasn't," I smirked, shaking my head. "How about we cover up the smell of those cigarettes with barbeque? I'm going to invite the whole team."
"Fine," he grumbled but snuffed it out all the same, trailing after me with his hands shoved in his pockets.
Next to find were Duy and Guy, which was easy enough to track down by the sounds of exertion and shouted encouragement. They were in our team's usual training field, both were flat on their backs with their arms straining as they pressed massive boulders above their chests. Sweat gleamed on their brows, but their grins were wide, like the rocks weighed nothing at all.
"Yosh! Ten more, Father!" Guy shouted, voice booming.
Duy's answering roar shook the air.
I folded my arms, watching until they noticed me, which took far too long for a ninja. "I think that's enough rock lifting for one day."
Guy dropped his stone with a loud thud, springing up in a blur of movement. "Akari-sensei! Are we deploying again?"
"Soon," I said, a smile tugging at my lips. "But not tonight. Come on, both of you; I'm treating the team to a proper dinner while we still can."
Their eyes lit up, and they hurried to join me. Kurenai was last we gathered at her family's home. We caught the tail end of her sparring session with her father in the courtyard. Their movements were sharp, measured, and precise; his were more refined while hers were quick and adaptive, just as I had taught her. When they finished, her father offered a rare nod of approval, and I caught the faintest blush on Kurenai's cheeks at the praise.
She turned as I approached, strands of black hair clinging to her forehead. "Akari-sensei."
"Come with us," I said. "I'm treating the team to barbeque."
Her lips curved into the smallest smile, and she bowed briefly to her father before falling into step beside me. The five of us made our way to the restaurant. Asuma and Guy were already challenging each other to an eating contest while Kurenai and I shared amused looks.
The restaurant was lively, and the air was thick with the smell of sizzling meat and charcoal smoke. We crowded around our usual table; the clatter of dishes and laughter from other groups filling the space. For a moment, it felt like we were just another set of friends sharing a meal, not soldiers about to be hurled back into war.
"So," I said as the first plates arrived, "how did you all spend the last four days?"
Asuma leaned back, grinning slyly. "Relaxing. Hiding from mom and smoking a lot less than you think."
Guy slapped his shoulder. "Asuma! Youth must be honored with vigor, not ruined with smoke!"
Asuma rolled his eyes. "Save the lecture, Guy."
Duy laughed warmly, piling meat onto Guy's plate before answering. "We trained, of course. Nothing renews the spirit like pushing past yesterday's limits."
Kurenai's answer was quieter, but her eyes gleamed with quiet pride. "I've been training with my father. He says I'm making progress."
I nodded, pleased. "Good. Because you'll need that progress soon."
Their chatter hushed a little as I set down my chopsticks and met their eyes one by one. "In two weeks, we'll redeploy, but to the Mist front this time. I'll be taking command of the front itself, so you four will be on your own missions under Kurenai's leadership; sorry to trouble you, Duy, but they will be a lot safer with you around."
"No trouble, Akari-sama! Real combat experience is another part of training, so as your training assistant, it is my duty to accompany them!" Duy declared proudly.
"Awesome! Now we can really stand out!" Asuma said excitedly.
"Yosh! The flames of our youth will burn so brightly that the world will take notice!" Guy exclaimed.
Kurenai sighed, shaking her head, and remarked, "You would think after our last mission that you two would be a little less eager.
"Boys will be boys," I said, smiling faintly. "But for now, enjoy your time in the village. Relax, see your friends and family, and rest while you can. I'll be escorting Pakura and her group back to the Sand camp tomorrow, and I'd like you, Duy, to come with me."
Duy inclined his head, solemn. "Of course. It would be my honor."
Asuma leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know what we should do? A splurge. Hit every food stall in Konoha and find the best. Then, before we leave, we'll load up a storage scroll, so that we don't have to choke down ration bars the whole time."
Guy gasped, eyes shining. "A feast of youth to fuel our next battles! Yes!"
Even Kurenai's lips twitched, betraying her interest; no one enjoyed ration bars, after all.
Their laughter rang out, warm and unguarded, and I leaned back, letting the sound wash over me. For tonight, at least, they were not soldiers. They were just a team enjoying the fleeting peace they had fought so hard to earn.
I walked Asuma home after the meal then looked for my mother. The lamps inside glowed softly, throwing warm light across the familiar wooden walls. I found her in the dining room, sorting through a small stack of scrolls and notes that had the clan symbol on them.
"Busy night?" I asked.
She glanced up at me, one eyebrow arched. "There's always something to do when your father is so busy. But I suppose you wouldn't be here if you didn't have something on your mind."
I smiled faintly and took the seat across from her. "You're right. Father told me today that he wants me to lead the Mist front."
Her hand stilled over the scrolls. "At seventeen?" she said, though there was no shock in her voice, only dry humor as she shook her head. "Your father does like to set records."
I chuckled. "Well, I got him to agree to get me some personalized combat gear for leading the front, but he also has me taking Pakura back to the Sand tomorrow morning. I knew if I came to you, I could actually get it the way I wanted, and you would have some good ideas for anything that I missed."
That earned me a small smile, and she asked, "So, what do you have in mind?"
I nodded and pulled a blank scroll toward me, sketching the rough shape of the haori-style coat I had been picturing. "Sleeveless, asymmetrical, hip length in the front, longer in the back. I want the main color to be deep purple and trimmed in a blue-green color."
Biwako leaned in, her sharp eyes following the crude lines. Without a word, she plucked the brush from my hand and began refining the sketch with practiced strokes. "The buckles should be here," she said, drawing two neat fastenings across the chest. "It will keep the coat close in battle but leaves your waist and legs free to move. Good choice."
I added notes along the edge. "Black mesh underlayer, so it still feels like a normal shinobi uniform. And the clan crest—embroidered in silver on the back. People need to see the Sarutobi flame when I move."
"The clan symbol should be added to the back in silver since I know you dislike gold," she said as her brush traced the symbol with care, letting it stand proud on the parchment. "That will remind them of who you represent."
We moved on to the bracers and gloves, matching purple with the faint blue-green edging, subtle seals etched into the palms for chakra control. Biwako hummed approvingly as she drew them in, her practical instincts adding adjustments I had not thought of like extra reinforcement along the knuckles, slightly curved edges to catch or deflect blades.
"Not too bulky," she murmured, adjusting the shape. "You need durability, but still speed."
"Exactly," I agreed.
Next came the lower half, a fitted pair of black shinobi pants, lightly reinforced with thin metal plates that could block a thrown weapon. The shin guards were streamlined with purple with blue-green accents, strapped securely over the fabric. Standard sandals, though I mentioned reinforcing the soles, so that they could hold up to my elemental kicks.
Biwako set the brush down, and we studied the finished sketch. The coat's cut was bold, the striking colors, and the Sarutobi crest gleaming on the back. It all came together now, more real than it had been in my head.
"This," she said at last, "isn't just clothing. It's an image. When you step onto the battlefield, people will know exactly who you are, even before you speak. It's more than looking the part. It's commanding it."
I sat back, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips. "Then it's perfect. It's time to show how strong I truly am, and to protect our home and people."
Her gaze softened, though her tone remained practical. "I'll see it commissioned first thing tomorrow. You'll have it in time for deployment."
"Thank you, mom."
She reached across the table and took my hand. "No thanks needed. Just take care of yourself, and your brother. I know you will do your best, Akari, you always do."
I smiled warmly, feeling her love for me. "I will, I promise."