The weight of the Mizukage's proposal still lingered in the air, heavy and deliberate.
Minato's expression did not waver, but behind his cool blue eyes, his mind was already dissecting the proposition.
'An alliance with Kirigakure?'
The thought itself felt strange. Konoha and Kiri had never been close, nor had they been at each other's throats numerously like Konoha had been with Suna or Kumo.
Their history was one of distance, and mutual recognition rather than camaraderie. There had been no grand betrayals or treaties, no longstanding feuds—just caution, just wariness.
And yet, here was Mizuki Hiroshi, the Third Mizukage, standing before them, extending a hand in supposed friendship.
Minato couldn't take it at face value. There was a catch.
There was always a catch.
Hiroshi was not the kind of man who acted on goodwill alone.
Minato had spent enough time under the tutelage of Jiraiya, one of, if not, Konoha's greatest intelligence operatives, to know that every offer in the world of shinobi politics came with hidden blades.
His fingers twitched slightly at his side, the only indication that his thoughts had begun racing.
'What's the angle?'
Minato glanced toward Hiruzen, who remained impassive.
Renjiro, however, was still as stone—but Minato had seen the way his sharp, dark eyes flickered from the Mizukage to the man standing at his side.
Renjiro's thoughts mirrored Minato's own scepticism.
But his focus had shifted.
The red-haired shinobi subtly observed the Mizukage's two escorts, but his attention was locked on one in particular—the man with the high collar.
'Something is… off.'
At first, Renjiro assumed the man had been sizing him up—which wouldn't be unreasonable. News of his fight with Matatabi's jinchūriki had surely spread, and Kirigakure's forces would have done their research on who he was.
But after several long minutes, the way the shinobi's piercing eyes refused to leave him became… unsettling.
There was no animosity, no goading expression, no challenge.
Just… watching.
Unblinking.
Silent.
Renjiro clenched his jaw slightly but did not let his discomfort show.
Instead, he turned his attention to the other escort—the woman who bore a striking resemblance to someone Renjiro knew from his past life.
Mei Terumi.
No, not her exactly. This woman was older, likely a relative from the same bloodline. Aunt? Older cousin? Renjiro wasn't sure.
But he knew that Mei herself would be far too young to be here. By his estimation, she would likely be close to his own age at the moment—not a fully-fledged elite shinobi standing at the Mizukage's side.
That realization put things into perspective.
This woman, whoever she was, was likely one of Kirigakure's elite forces, perhaps even a rising power within the Terumi clan.
And yet… unlike her counterpart, she didn't seem overly concerned with him.
She was focused on the room as a whole, taking stock of every single person present rather than fixating on just one individual.
'Interesting.'
Renjiro filed that information away.
For now, Hiruzen was finally breaking the silence.
"An alliance," Hiruzen repeated, as if rolling the words on his tongue, testing their weight. His voice was calm and deliberate, but there was an undeniable edge to it.
He exhaled through his nose, the sound almost lost beneath the soft crackling of the lanterns. His dark eyes, sharp and unwavering, locked onto Hiroshi.
"I must admit, Mizukage-dono, this is quite the unexpected offer," he continued. His words were carefully chosen, layered with meaning. He did not express gratitude. He did not sound intrigued. Instead, he let his doubt settle into the air between them, thick as fog.
"And more than that—" Hiruzen's fingers stilled as he leaned forward slightly, his presence suddenly heavier. "Why should I consider it?"
A ghost of a smile flickered across Hiroshi's lips, but it never reached his cold, calculating eyes. Instead, he let out a low chuckle—a laugh that did not belong to a man who had just offered his hand in friendship.
"Why?" the Mizukage mused, stroking his thin beard between his fingers, the motion slow and deliberate. His long nails caught the dim light as he moved.
"Must a man have an ulterior motive to extend friendship?"
Hiruzen's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. It wasn't humour—it was something closer to exhaustion, to mild amusement at a familiar game he had played far too many times.
He let out a dry scoff.
"A man like you?" His brow lifted ever so slightly. "I would be a fool not to assume otherwise."
From the corner of his eye, Hiruzen saw the way Minato's lips twitched upward, just a fraction before the young shinobi schooled his expression back to neutrality. Renjiro, too, seemed unimpressed, though the subtle narrowing of his eyes suggested he was enjoying the moment.
Hiroshi, however, was far from offended. If anything, the smirk on his face only widened.
"I must say, your suspicion wounds me, Hiruzen-dono," he said with mock sorrow, placing a hand on his chest as though physically affected by the accusation. "I came here with nothing but good intentions."
Hiruzen's response was immediate.
"Konoha does not require Kirigakure's assistance," he stated plainly.
The words were final. Cold. A dismissal in all but name.
Yet Hiroshi did not flinch. He did not look surprised or taken aback. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
"Oh?" His voice was almost teasing. "Are you so sure of that?"
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed slightly.
And there it was—the real conversation.
"Konoha is in a favourable position at the moment," he admitted, folding his arms over his chest. The confidence in his voice was unsettling—like a man who knew exactly where his opponent's weaknesses lay. "Your enemies are scattered, your strength unchallenged."
Then, his gaze darkened.
"But that will not last."
The lanterns flickered again, casting long shadows across the wooden floor.
The room was silent.
Minato and Renjiro remained still, but their focus sharpened. Their eyes flickered toward the Mizukage with renewed interest—not because they were impressed, but because he was speaking truthfully.
Hiruzen, however, did not move.
"You say that as though you already know what is to come," the Hokage said carefully.
Hiroshi gave a slow nod.
"I do."
His words were unshakable, spoken with the certainty of a man who had already seen the board pieces moving before anyone else had.
"Kumo and Sunagakure are growing closer," he stated simply, as if he were talking about the weather. "Their alliance strengthens by the day. Suna's military is rebuilding, and Kumo—"
He paused.
"Well," his lips curled slightly. "We both know that the Raikage's ambitions have never been modest."
Hiruzen's expression darkened, just slightly.
That much was true.
The last thing Konoha needed was an opposing alliance gaining momentum.
Hiruzen frowned slightly. "That much is obvious. What does this have to do with Kirigakure?"
Hiroshi took a step forward.
"In the event of war—which, let's be honest, is inevitable—Kiri can serve as a second front against Kumo," he explained. His voice was smooth, steady. "We attack from the rear, at our borders, spreading their forces thin."
He paused, letting the weight of the words settle.
"If you align with Iwagakure, they will do the same to Sunagakure—but tell me, Hiruzen-dono," he lifted a hand slightly, gesturing vaguely, "which village do you truly see as your greatest opponent?"
The question hung in the air.
It was a trap, a carefully placed one.
The war was coming. That much was certain. But between Kumo and Suna, the real threat was clear.
Kumo was far more aggressive, far more hungry.
And Hiroshi knew it.
Hiruzen exhaled slowly.
His mind was already running calculations, seeing the long game.
He hated this part of leadership—playing the game, making deals with people he couldn't trust.
But this was what it meant to be Hokage.
You didn't have the luxury of trusting people.
You only had the luxury of strategy.
Hiroshi smiled.
"You understand the value of my offer, don't you?"
Hiruzen's gaze did not waver. His eyes were sharp, cutting through the layers of diplomacy and deceit.
"That depends," he said flatly.
Hiroshi tilted his head slightly. "On what?"
The Hokage's gaze sharpened.
"On whether or not Kirigakure can be trusted to keep its word."
For the first time since the conversation began, a genuine chuckle left the Mizukage's lips. It was deep, rich, almost amused.
"Trust," he mused. "A fickle thing, isn't it?"
Then, after a pause—
"Hiruzen-dono, what will your decision be?"
=====
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