With the development of space scrolls, transporting supplies had become far simpler.
The Second Ninja War had dragged on for six long years, but the Third ended in half the time. The difference lay in logistics—moving grain and equipment was no longer the backbreaking ordeal it once was.
Of course, the Fourth Ninja War, which ended in just three days, hardly counted. That conflict had been too full of "wall hangings."
The next morning, after receiving the food-laden space scroll from Nara Luji, Aizen led Pakura and the others to depart, bidding farewell to Sarutobi Hiruzen.
Kakashi and Konoha's core Jōnin stood at the gates, watching the Sand delegation disappear down the road. As usual, Shiranui Genma idly chewed on a senbon, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
"This… this counts as a peaceful resolution, right?" someone murmured.
"Avoiding war is always the best ending," Kakashi replied firmly.
"Have the Sand shinobi left already?"
Yūhi Kurenai approached, her graceful steps drawing attention. Her cheeks looked faintly flushed, though it might have been an illusion.
"Red, I haven't seen you these past few days. Training in secret?" Might Guy grinned, teeth flashing like White Fang's blade.
"I'm not like you, a hot-blooded fool. I'll find a husband and marry within the next eight years," Kurenai said coolly, brushing her dark hair back in a waterfall-like motion. A subtle, intoxicating charm lingered in the gesture.
"…Something happened, didn't it, Red?" Kakashi asked quietly. His perception was sharper than most, and though he couldn't place it, something about her demeanor felt different.
"What do you mean? Happened?" she countered.
Kakashi shook his head. "No, nothing." He let it drop.
"By the way," Kurenai continued, "what sort of person is the Sand's representative? Their original minister was killed by Uchiha Kenya and Uchiha Itachi, wasn't he?"
At the mention of Aizen, Kakashi's gaze darkened. After a long pause, he answered in four measured words:
"Impossible to fathom."
With his insight, he could usually read others at a glance. But this man was different. With Aizen, he saw nothing at all.
The Jōnin lingered at the gate for a while longer before dispersing back to their posts. To them, the crisis seemed over. The conflict with Sunagakure had been resolved peacefully.
But in truth, it was only the beginning.
After traveling for a full day and night, Aizen's team finally crossed into the Land of Rivers. Early the next morning, they arrived at a modest but bustling town.
"Everyone, take a rest. We leave again in two hours," Aizen ordered.
"Lord Aizen, could we rest a little longer? We've been on the road without pause," Pakura asked respectfully.
Aizen's eyes softened with apology. "You're right. I let my eagerness blind me. The thought of returning with enough food for everyone in Sunagakure excites me too much. We'll rest here for the day."
The devotion in his voice stirred genuine admiration in the others.
As expected of Lord Aizen.
His heart was always with the Sand.
Pakura lowered her head, flustered. "No, Aizen-sama, it was my mistake. Enduring hardship is part of a ninja's duty. We can continue at once."
For the famed, stoic Pakura to apologize like this—it would have been unthinkable before. Yet with Aizen, it seemed only natural. His presence drew loyalty without effort.
"There's no need to rush," Aizen said with an easy smile. "I've already secured rooms. We'll set out again at noon. Rest well until then."
"Yes, Aizen-sama!" the three replied in unison.
The others went off to eat or train in their rooms, but Aizen chose to wander the town alone.
He had spent the past weeks consolidating his influence in Sunagakure, leaving little time for training. Once this mission was complete, he intended to dedicate himself to practice again.
Just then, a sudden shout broke his thoughts:
"Hurry! Lady Tsunade has escaped again!"
Aizen turned his head. Two women were running down the street toward him, barely two hundred meters away.
The first wore a green robe over a low-cut blouse, her figure generous enough to make even Kurenai's beauty seem pale in comparison. Golden hair framed her mature, striking face, though at the moment her expression was harried and disheveled.
Beside her, a woman in a black kimono clutched a small pink pig in her arms. She wasn't as dazzling as the blonde, but her delicate features held their own quiet charm.
Tsunade-hime and Shizune.
Beneath his mask, the corners of Aizen's mouth curved faintly upward.
Of all places, to meet them here.