"Go to war?"
The council chamber went silent as Huiye Masao's words faded. Uchiha Makoto caught the startled glances of the Akatsuki Village elders before they all broke into uneasy murmurs.
"Isn't that too hasty?"
"How can war be treated so lightly?"
"Clan Head Huiye, don't bring your family's reckless habits into this meeting."
Their protests rippled through the room. War wasn't just a topic for idle debate. It meant blood, loss, and mountains of ryo. One exploding tag cost tens of thousands of taels—barely a fraction of the true expense. Kunai, shuriken, field supplies, medical care, and post-war reparations would drain treasuries even faster.
And the world had only just begun to recover. After generations of endless clan battles, the great ninja villages were barely a year or two into this fragile peace. Everyone here knew how precious this calm was.
Most villages were investing their meager budgets in rebuilding and training the next generation, not stockpiling weapons. Only a few leaders—Makoto among them—had quietly diverted large funds into military production. The secret exploding-tag factory beneath Akatsuki Village hadn't stopped humming since it opened.
But a war between organized ninja villages? No one knew where it might end—or how many would die. Every elder in the room had barely survived the Warring States chaos. If peace could be preserved, who would rush back into the fire? And all this for the deaths of two mid-level chunin?
The pragmatic path was obvious: downplay the incident, negotiate compensation, and move on. Why shatter the first true peace in a generation over two dead operatives?
Uchiha Makoto understood their thinking. The logic was sound—if the world were as simple as they believed. But he carried knowledge they did not.
He knew the future.
Sooner or later Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara would clash. Madara's inevitable defection would light the fuse for the First Shinobi World War. The fabled battle at the Valley of the End was merely the spark. Once the fire spread, every great village would be dragged in.
Akatsuki could not hope to remain untouched. Better to strike now, while their economy thrived and their army swelled. Hidden Cloud's provocation offered the perfect pretext. With both Hashirama and Madara as potential allies, the coming fight could be swift and one-sided.
Of course, Makoto could never say that aloud. If he claimed to foresee a global war, the elders would laugh him out of the room.
People care only for the present.
---
Makoto rose. "Quiet."
The chamber fell still.
"Faced with this incident," he began, "there are six possible responses.
"One: ignore it.
"Two: issue a public statement of regret.
"Three: file a formal protest.
"Four: cut off aid.
"Five: sever diplomatic relations.
"Six: declare war."
He let the list hang for a heartbeat before continuing.
"Letting it go would make Akatsuki look weak. A statement or protest? Empty words. We provide no aid to Hidden Cloud, so we can't threaten to stop it. And we have no formal relations to sever. That leaves only the sixth option: declare war."
The elders blinked. After his long preamble, the final phrase landed like a thrown kunai.
"Lord Makoto, please reconsider!"
"It's only two chunin—hardly worth a war!"
"This is madness!"
Predictable. Makoto waited for the outcry to fade, then spoke again, his voice cutting through the noise.
"You believe that refusing this battle guarantees peace. Does anyone here truly think peace will last forever?"
He swept his gaze across the room. No one answered.
"As each village grows stronger, tensions will rise, just as they did during the Warring States era. Sooner or later, a great war is inevitable. Right now, our strength is at its peak. We have funds, numbers, and a righteous cause. If we strike now, we can weaken our rivals—or even remove them entirely—for the sake of our children and grandchildren."
He raised a clenched fist. "One decisive punch can spare us a hundred future blows. This war will secure Akatsuki's place in the ninja world. From this day forward, when our shinobi take a mission, no rival will dare cross them. Every village will know: if even two of our chunin fall, we strike back like hungry wolves."
Makoto's words ignited a spark among the smaller clans.
During the Warring States era, they had been perpetual victims—bullied by larger houses, forced to retreat and pay tribute. They had joined Akatsuki Village precisely for protection. If their new home still acted timidly, what had they gained?
Many imagined confronting enemies on the road and declaring with pride, Touch me and Lord Makoto will send an army to your gates by morning. The thought sent a thrill through the hall.
Makoto pressed his advantage.
"You claim two dead chunin aren't reason enough. Then tell me—when is the right time for war? When a jōnin falls? An entire squad? A dozen? When the Hidden Cloud is already marching on our gates? Will you still say it isn't time?"
One by one, he cut off their excuses. The elders shifted uneasily. No one could name this elusive "last moment."
Makoto slammed his palm on the table. "This battle is inevitable. I will fight!"
As Kage, the final decision was his. Yet he had spent these words to shape the will of his people. A war needed more than soldiers; it needed conviction.
---
The meeting ended in heavy silence. Clan representatives filed out, shadows long in the lamplight. Half the council still dreaded war, but none dared challenge Makoto openly. They would wait, hoping the campaign faltered so they could blame him and strip his title.
Let them scheme. Makoto almost smiled. They were planning for defeat, but defeat wasn't in the cards.
Would Konoha join the fight? Unlikely. Hashirama would probably offer condolences and a tidy payment, then clasp Hidden Cloud's hand in peace. His lack of ambition was legendary. That was fine. Akatsuki didn't need Konoha.
Did they think Akatsuki was weak? Their exploding-tag stockpile alone was worth hundreds of billions of taels. If Cloud shinobi somehow broke through the rain of explosives, Makoto could always call on Madara himself.
Lord Madara, the Uchiha have suffered insult enough. Will you let the world laugh at our clan?
Madara would not ignore that call.
Makoto's resolve hardened.
He was surrounded by opposition, but he had not lost.
And he would not be treated as a criminal for defending his people.
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