Kyuushin had braced for this the instant Tsunade dragged him into the fray, so Orochimaru's direct probe didn't rattle him. He stepped forward slightly, meeting the room's collective gaze with steady resolve. "Our core mission against the Land of Rain boils down to gutting their frontline strength—whittle them down until Hanzo has no choice but to bend the knee to Konoha.
That's why this blatant trap leaves us backed into a corner. The Land of Fire's got predators circling every border; we can't sink into a endless slog here without cracking elsewhere. Fail to hit our marks, and if Rain rebounds with momentum, Konoha's the one left exposed."
He paused for emphasis, scanning the intrigued faces. "So, realistically, we've got just two paths forward."
"Which are?" Jiraiya leaned in, his earlier frustration melting into eager spark. The past couple days had worn grooves in his brow, mirroring Orochimaru's tension—now, Kyuushin's hint of options lit a genuine grin across his face, chasing away the gloom.
Orochimaru's sharp features softened with a flicker of genuine interest, his golden eyes narrowing in anticipation.
Kyuushin dipped his head modestly, tempering the optimism. "Call them solutions loosely—they're more like forced plays we can't dodge.
Option one: Flood the Land of Rain with overwhelming numbers. Steamroll Hanzo's setup before it springs, brute force over brains. Rain's got limits; sheer volume could shatter them regardless of tricks."
Orochimaru's enthusiasm deflated instantly, a disappointed shake of his head punctuating the air. "Village brass won't spare more bodies. This deployment's already our ceiling—any deeper, and other theaters crumble."
Kyuushin nodded, unfazed; he'd banked on that roadblock. "Fair point. So we pivot to plan two: Step into the Land of Rain, exactly as they bait us.
But forewarned is forearmed—knowing their playbook changes everything. We've mapped their moves post-invasion, so we tailor our counters. Our edge in raw power holds; minimize the erosion from their turf, and we dictate terms even on hostile soil."
Orochimaru's initial letdown lingered, but as Kyuushin unpacked the logic, a thoughtful gleam returned. He'd been tunnel-visioned on derailing the trap outright, chasing the Hokage's mandate without crossing the border—a mental rut that blinded him to the bigger picture.
Kyuushin's angle snapped it into focus: Konoha's contingent outclassed Rain's across the board. Even amid the downpours and ambushes, victory wasn't a pipe dream if they played smart.
The shift clicked for Orochimaru; three days of dead ends faded. Border entry loomed inevitable—the only viable shot. He fixed Kyuushin with renewed respect. "If you're sold on advancing, what's your blueprint for blunting their scheme?"
Kyuushin affirmed with a firm nod. The mindset flip had sparked fresh ideas en route, so he dove in without hesitation. "Priority one on crossing: Logistics overhaul. Sourcing supplies turns nightmarish in there—stockpile survival kits heavy: rations, soldier pills, the works.
Next, those supply crews become bullseyes for Rain raids. Strip 'em out entirely—leave non-combat logistics behind, take only frontline fighters across."
He wasn't spinning wild theories; genin-heavy support teams lacked the chops to keep pace in a hot zone, turning assets into anchors. Deep in Rain, they'd clash head-on with Hanzo's elites—a decisive brawl where extra baggage spelled doom. Load up on essentials via storage scrolls, and sustainability flipped: One pack per shinobi could stretch weeks, no rear echelon required.
That's the ninja edge over rank-and-file armies—less tether to supply chains, though healing logistics posed the real headache. Tsunade's prowess was legendary, but she juggled frontline duties too. Camp medics shone in triage but folded under fire; true multitasking warriors—healers who could scrap—numbered slim: Tsunade at the helm, maybe Kyuushin for minor patches, but anything severe overwhelmed him.
The room's veterans recoiled at first—ditching support? Sacrilege. But mulling it over, nods rippled through. It held water.
Orochimaru mulled it briefly, then cracked a rare, approving smile. "Solid start. More?"
Kyuushin exhaled, shaking his head with a self-deprecating chuckle. "That's my limit—shallow insights from a genin. The rest is above my pay grade."
Jiraiya barked a laugh, slapping the table lightly. "Hey, that's leaps better than some folks stewing for days without a peep—like a certain serpent nursing a bad case of brainstorm block."
Orochimaru breezed past the jab, sweeping his gaze across the group. "Other angles? Speak now."
"United front's non-negotiable," Mokume Koutou rumbled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Split up in there, and they pick us apart one squad at a time—guerrilla heaven for them."
"Spot on," the jonin—likely Yuhi Shinku—chimed in, his voice gravelly with conviction. "And keep the stay short—blitz straight for Hanzo, pin him down for a showdown we control."
Tsunade arched a brow. "We got eyes on his position?"
Orochimaru shook his head curtly. "Old intel was bunk—fed us ghosts. His disciple ran the show upfront; Hanzo's stayed shadows so far."
Jiraiya cracked his knuckles, volunteering with a fierce grin. "Count me in. Post-meeting, I'll slip across and hunt his trail—guaranteed."
Orochimaru dipped his head in approval, confidence in Jiraiya's infiltration skills absolute.
From there, the brainstorm ignited—heads bent over maps, voices overlapping in a lively clash of tactics. Viable tweaks stuck; half-baked notions got shredded. The session kicked off mid-morning and dragged into the lengthening shadows, the tent's lanterns flickering to life as dusk crept in.
Kyuushin bowed out after his opener, content to absorb the veterans' mastery. Their war-hardened insights dissected invasion minutiae with precision he couldn't touch.
To contribute, he fetched paper and ink, jotting every pivot and proposal—morphing into the group's unofficial scribe, his notes a whirlwind of formations, contingencies, and fallback routes.
As evening deepened and fresh ideas tapered off, Orochimaru claimed the sheaf of records, scanning them with a critical eye before sealing the deal with a nod. "Plan's locked: Jiraiya scouts Hanzo's trail. Tsunade anchors the rear logistics hub. Frontline command falls to me, with you three holding the line. Execute without flaw."
"Affirmative!"