Kirigakure.
A low sky hung over the village as a fine drizzle fell. Weather like this was common for an island nation.
On a special clearing to the north, a sparse crowd stood. There weren't many, but each person carried weight in the Mist.
Before them rose a massive stone stele—the village's memorial stone.
Space on the stele was limited; ordinary shinobi didn't make it onto it. It was for those who died in war or made special contributions to the Mist.
Two figures stood at the very front.
Ting! Ting!
Clear taps of a hammer rang against the stele. With the last strike, a fresh name took shape before all eyes—"Kinoshita Jiro."
Yuto watched the newly carved name in silence.
"Ascending the memorial as a hero is an honor—for Kinoshita Jiro and for the Kinoshita Clan," Mei murmured beside him.
"Maybe," Yuto said evenly, his voice edged a shade lower.
Sensing his dip in mood, Mei turned and asked softly, "Yuto-sama… is it Jiro you're mourning?"
"Mourning?"
He shook his head with a faint smile. "Seeing the stele just brought back faces of old comrades, that's all."
Then he cocked a brow at her. "Are you worried about me, pretty lady?"
Mei whipped her gaze forward again. "No."
Though the rain hadn't stopped, neither of them was wet. Behind Mei, Ao held an umbrella over her; behind Yuto, Zabuza did the same.
Both men stared straight ahead, as if deaf to the exchange.
Soon, those who'd come to pay respects finished, bowed to Yuto and Mei, and withdrew.
Only the Kinoshita Clan's elder and Yuto's group remained.
"Yuto-sama, Mizukage-sama… we didn't expect you both to come in person," the elder said, nervous and deferential.
"The village remembers every shinobi's contribution. Kinoshita Jiro is no exception," Mei said solemnly.
The elder bowed lower, gratitude written across his face.
Yuto found it a little funny. Mei was still a touch green.
He looked at the elder, tone flat. "There's a well-known shipping company in the Land of Waves. The owner's Gato. You know him?"
The elder blinked, not catching the intent, but nodded. Gato was one of the rare magnates—of course he'd heard the name.
"The village plans to take over Gato's company. You'll handle it," Yuto said casually.
The elder started, then lit up with joy. He bowed again. "At once, Yuto-sama. I'll see it done."
He bowed to both Yuto and Mei and departed.
"That old fox," Mei muttered, brow quirking.
"It's just money. And as long as the Kinoshita remain in the Mist, what's theirs is the village's," Yuto said with an easy smile.
Mei's eyes brightened. His words had opened a new angle for her.
Yuto gave the memorial one last look, then turned to go. Mei quickly fell in step.
"How are preparations for pressuring Konoha?" Yuto asked.
"For raw pressure, the Mist has no shortage of candidates. We're not looking for concessions anyway—and if we want war, we'll need a pretext," Mei said, licking her lips with a small smile.
Hearing them, Zabuza's face flickered with excitement.
The name "Seven Ninja Swordsmen" would soon ring through the shinobi world again.
The drizzle went on, and the four figures blurred into the rain.
—
Konoha.
Hokage's Office.
Hiruzen sat at his desk. His face was calm, yet anyone could feel how foul his mood was. Even his beloved pipe lay untouched to the side, and the room pressed in with a heavy air.
On the desk lay a report, but it was thin. Scraps and fragments—not enough to outline what had happened.
Tap. Tap.
A light knock sounded.
Hiruzen lifted his head, warmth returning to his expression. "Come in."
The door opened. Iruka entered, solemn. "Sandaime-sama."
"How is it?" Hiruzen asked, voice low.
Iruka shook his head and sighed. "Kakashi-jōnin's injuries are serious. He's unconscious and likely won't wake soon. Thankfully, Gai-jōnin was on a mission nearby with his team, or else…"
He let the rest trail off; the meaning was clear.
Sensing the weight in the office, Iruka added with a small smile, "But Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke have already woken up. Their injuries aren't severe. With some rest, they'll fully recover."
"At least there's some good news," Hiruzen said, forcing a thin smile.
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