The meeting room once again fell into silence.
Kenya's words lingered in everyone's minds, stirring something within them.
It wasn't only the reasoning itself. What weighed more heavily was the impression Kenya had already carved into their hearts—the image of "Aizen," someone invincible, someone who could not be doubted. His words carried a weight they could not easily reject.
Yet destroying a great nation… how simple could that be?
In the First, Second, and Third Ninja Wars, each battle had been bloody beyond imagination. And still, not a single one of the Five Great Nations had been wiped out. Even the weakest—the Land of Wind—possessed foundations so deep that annihilation was nearly impossible.
Even if Konoha, the strongest of them all, wished to crush Sunagakure, they would suffer terrible wounds themselves. And when their strength faltered, the other three nations would strike like wolves. Konoha would not survive.
That was the truth behind every past war: fierce battles, yes, but never with the intent to eradicate a nation entirely. Because to destroy one meant inviting destruction from the others.
War, in the end, was plunder. A struggle for land, food, and resources.
But Kenya's proposal of a three-nation alliance shifted the balance. If three moved as one, then after crushing either Iwagakure or Kumogakure, they would not need to fear betrayal from the rear. Victory could be enjoyed in full.
Kenya didn't press Gaara or Terumi Mei further. He simply clapped his hands lightly.
"It's natural for you all to hesitate. There's no need for an answer now. Rest, think it through. We'll continue the discussion slowly."
Something this monumental could not be decided in a single meeting.
The Five Kage had once formed an alliance in mere days—but that was under the shadow of the world's very destruction. Without such desperation, choices were never so swift.
So, the meeting adjourned without a conclusion. Both the Sand and the Mist would return home to deliberate carefully before replying.
Tsunade, as Hokage, proposed a second meeting five days later.
One by one, the representatives filed out.
As Temari passed by Kenya, she hesitated, then whispered, "Old… teacher. Could you walk with me later?"
Kenya paused, startled for just a moment, before smiling.
"After this, come to the Uchiha compound."
Her eyes lit with a quiet excitement. She nodded and left with Gaara and the others.
From the corner, Terumi Mei noticed. A faint dissatisfaction flickered in her expression. But as Mizukage, she had to place duty above personal desire. She could only tuck that emotion away—for now.
More than half a month later, the Uchiha compound had nearly finished its reconstruction.
The lands once seized by Sarutobi Hiruzen were reclaimed. After all, the Sarutobi and Shimura clans were now little more than names on a stone. Why let their estates lie vacant? Better to return them for use.
Kenya had seen to it that only a fraction remained in their hands, the rest parceled out for Konoha's growth.
Tsunade offered no objection. Thinking of the fate of her own Senju clan, she found no sympathy for the remnants of Sarutobi or Shimura.
Nor did the villagers care. To them, new land meant new jobs, new opportunities. The past mattered little.
People followed warmth, abandoned cold ashes. That was the way of the world.
"Are we… going to war?"
When Kenya returned home, Kurenai stepped out, dressed casually, the faint scent of lunch still drifting from the kitchen.
"Sand and Mist are hesitant," Kenya said, leading her back inside. "But I believe they'll agree."
Kurenai poured him water with gentle hands.
"It's really different," she murmured. "You and Uchiha Itachi."
Kenya raised a brow. "Why mention him now?"
She set the tray down. "In order to prevent war, he butchered his own clan—his parents included. Less than five years later, you, another Uchiha, choose to ignite war with your own hands."
Kenya smiled faintly. "So you think his way was better?"
Kurenai shook her head. "I didn't say that. Both are paths toward peace. His, through sacrifice. Yours, through bloodshed. Which is right? Which is wrong? No one can truly say."
"Exactly." Kenya's tone was flat. "In this world, nothing is absolute. Even the so-called Infinite Tsukuyomi of Madara and Obito—madness though it was—was still their vision of peace. Right and wrong don't matter. Only victory. Whoever wins, writes the world's future."
Kurenai leaned softly against his shoulder. "I'll never understand you men. As for me… I just want a quiet life, housework, children. Like I said long ago."
Kenya chuckled, helpless. Was it really necessary to cling to a throwaway line from years ago? Why did women never forget such things?
Ding-dong~~
The doorbell rang.
A familiar voice followed from outside:
"Teacher, are you home?"
Temari.
Kurenai's gentle eyes instantly turned cold.
Kenya's stomach tightened.
And yet… perhaps it was this storm, this mess of desire and conflict, that made him feel more alive than even Sōsuke Aizen.