Kurama Nagatsune's smile barely moved, but his voice slid through the room with quiet confidence.
"Amamiya-dono, you've already touched every one of my senses. Taste and smell from the incense and tea. Touch when I handed you the cup. Sight and hearing now, as we speak."
His eyes sharpened.
"In other words… you've completed full five-sense contact with me. That means I can take your senses away at any moment. Slip them off you like threads from a puppet."
He spoke as if narrating the weather, not claiming power over a clan leader.
Raizen leaned back a little, face unreadable. "So, Patriarch Kurama intends to kill me?"
Nagatsune's hands flew up in denial. "Kill you? No, no, nothing so crude."
The man smiled again, pleasant, polite, utterly unnerving.
"Your proposal is tempting. Joining Konoha would protect my people. Ending the Yuezhi Clan once and for all… that alone makes my heart beat faster. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted."
His tone turned thin and sharp.
"But wanting something doesn't mean surrendering myself to it."
Raizen frowned. The hidden danger he had mentioned… what danger?
Nagatsune answered with the calm of a man enjoying his own lecture.
"Konoha would keep the Kurama safe, yes. But it would also shackle us. Right now, I am the sole authority of my clan. My word decides our path. If we bend knee to Konoha, suddenly I'm no longer the only voice. There will be another leader… you, Amamiya Raizen. You will outrank me."
He tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
"Konoha is full of powerful clans. To survive among them, the Kurama would have to give up much. My authority. My influence. Perhaps even the future direction of my people."
Raizen sighed. "Then what do you want?"
Nagatsune spread his hands, serene and ambitious all at once.
"To stand in the middle. Join Konoha, yes… but still control it. And since you, Amamiya-dono, are destined to become the leader of that village, all I need is to control you. If I own your strings, I own all of Konoha."
The madness in his logic gleamed like polished steel.
Raizen snorted. "With that five-sense manipulation of yours? You think that's enough?"
Nagatsune laughed, soft and condescending.
"The Kurama Clan has survived a century of war because we master what others fear. Our forbidden art can completely dominate a person once full sensory contact is made. You are fortunate, Patriarch Amamiya… few ever witness it."
He leaned forward.
"And few ever escape."
Raizen stared into his eyes, Mangekyō tomoe beginning to stir. "Nagatsune-san. Do you know something?"
The Kurama head blinked. "What?"
Raizen's voice dropped into something cold, almost bored.
"Distinguished Heavenly Gods… normally requires ten years before it can be used again."
Nagatsune froze.
"But Eternal Mangekyō cuts that cooldown down to one."
The air snapped.
Raizen's eye spun violently, a black triangle blooming around the whirling tomoe like a hungry storm.
"Distinguished Heavenly Gods… submit."
A soundless impact cracked through the room.
Nagatsune felt it like a spear of light driven straight into his skull. His senses buckled, his chakra shuddered, and a crushing voice slammed into his mind like a god's command.
"Kurama Nagatsune. Submit to me."
His breath tore out of him. He tried resisting. He tried screaming. He tried anything at all.
The voice came again.
"Submit to me."
Thoughts slipped like water through cracked fingers.
Pride dissolved.
Intent dissolved.
Fear remained.
"Submit to me!"
The final command detonated through his head. Nagatsune's pupils dimmed, then slowly refocused.
He staggered to his knees and bowed until his forehead nearly touched the floor.
"Master Raizen."
Raizen didn't react to the title. His voice was steady, almost annoyed.
"Kurama Nagatsune. Issue an order as clan head. The Kurama Clan will join Konoha immediately. And the Kurama shinobi on the frontlines will support Konoha's forces in crushing the Yuezhi."
"Yes, my lord."
Nagatsune backed away with careful obedience.
When the door closed behind him, Raizen silently poured himself another cup of tea. Steam rose between his fingers as he took a slow sip.
"For someone trying to puppeteer me," he muttered, "you really should've checked what kind of damn puppet I am."
The tea tasted better this time.