The sound of the knock itself wasn't startling, but the timing of it sent a ripple of unease through the three shinobi inside.
Renjiro's dark eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze flickered toward Minato, and, almost instinctively, Minato's eyes darted toward Hiruzen.
Hiruzen's expression remained composed, but Renjiro could tell—there was an almost imperceptible shift in his aura. The Third Hokage had sensed the presence outside fast then, yet he, too, was taken aback.
'Already?' Hiruzen thought to himself, his mind calculating at an alarming speed.
They had barely settled into their quarters. The barrier they placed was not weak, yet it had been rendered irrelevant in moments. Whoever was outside had been able to approach undeterred, with enough awareness to knock instead of simply announcing themselves through force.
It was a bold move. One that carried weight.
Renjiro's mind ticked through possibilities.
'It's probably the attendant,' he reasoned. Surely, that was the most likely explanation. They still had some time before the actual summit began, so even if any Kage wanted to make an unseen move, they'd probably start it after they rested.
But his gut disagreed.
Something about the situation felt... off. The timing, the silence before the knock—too deliberate. He forced himself to shake off the paranoia. 'That won't happen,' he tried to tell himself, though a nagging voice in the back of his mind was already warning him otherwise.
Hiruzen exhaled slowly before giving Minato a single nod.
Minato took a step forward, his movements as smooth as flowing water. He grasped the sliding door, and with a sharp but controlled motion, pulled it open.
The moment his eyes landed on the visitor, his breath hitched.
For a fraction of a second—only a fraction—Minato's carefully constructed mask almost slipped.
Then, just as quickly, he remastered his expression.
His features settled into polite neutrality as he straightened his posture and gave a respectful nod.
"Mizukage-sama," he greeted evenly.
Standing at the threshold, dressed in a flowing dark blue kimono embroidered with swirling silver mist patterns, was Mizuki Hiroshi, the Third Mizukage.
Hiroshi was an imposing figure, even in stillness. His long black hair, streaked through with grey, cascaded down his back like ink spilling over silk. Resting atop his head was a circular pearl diadem, the tiny moon-like ornaments glinting in the dim light. But it was his eyes—the eerie, inky-black sclera that swallowed any trace of humanity—that unsettled most people.
There was no visible malice in his gaze.
Yet, there was nothing warm in it either.
Minato stepped aside, allowing Hiroshi to enter.
The Mizukage strode in, each step deliberate, calculated. His heavy sleeves trailed slightly as he moved, and the quiet rustle of fabric against fabric was the only sound in the room. Two shinobi flanked him.
One was a man with shoulder-length black hair, clad in the standard Kirigakure jonin attire, his face partially obscured by a high collar. His cold grey eyes flickered briefly over the room before settling on Hiruzen.
The other was a woman, her auburn hair tied in a loose, flowing braid over one shoulder. The crest of the Terumi clan was stitched into the fabric of her uniform—a silent but undeniable display of power. Her features were sharp, but her lips curled slightly in a near-smirk, as though she were amused by something none of them could hear.
Hiruzen's gaze sharpened the moment he saw Hiroshi.
His greeting, however, was flawless.
"Ah, Mizukage-dono," he said with a cordial nod, "a most unexpected pleasure."
Hiroshi's lips curled into what could almost be called a smile.
"Unexpected, indeed, Hokage-dono," he mused, his voice smooth yet unreadable. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion. I thought it best to pay my respects now rather than later."
Hiruzen let out a hum of amusement. "Respect? From you?"
Hiroshi's smile widened, though it never quite reached his eyes. "Of course. After all, it would be unseemly for old friends not to greet each other properly."
Old friends.
Renjiro glanced between them.
The air between the two Kage was thick with history.
Hiruzen and Hiroshi had faced each other in the Second Shinobi War—and Hiroshi had lost.
Badly.
The loss was Devastatingly Bad.
The wounds from that battle had left the Mizukage incapacitated for three years, long enough for the Raikage and Kumogakure to start picking at Kirigakure's borders like vultures.
And yet, here he stood, unbothered, speaking as if they were friends, or worse, equals.
The air was polite. The words exchanged were measured, civil, almost warm.
But beneath it all, the unspoken venom was thick.
Hiruzen chuckled lightly. "Well, I must admit, I didn't expect to receive such a courteous visit. I assume you're not here to challenge me to another match, Hiroshi-dono?"
Hiroshi's smirk didn't falter.
"I would be a fool to challenge you in an arena where I have already lost, Hokage-dono," he said smoothly. "No, I simply came to see the new generation of Konoha's shinobi."
His gaze shifted.
Minato felt the weight of it before the Mizukage even spoke.
"Aah, Namikaze Minato," Hiroshi murmured, tilting his head ever so slightly. "The genius of Konoha. You have quite the reputation."
Minato, ever composed, bowed slightly. "You flatter me, Mizukage-sama."
Hiruzen didn't miss the subtext.
Hiroshi was flexing.
Kirigakure had information on Konoha's rising stars—enough to know Minato by name, enough to call him a genius. Which at the moment not many major, or minor, village had. Minato's work was fast, so not many knew of his talent and potential.
It was a subtle move, but a calculated one.
And then—
Hiroshi's gaze finally landed on Renjiro.
Renjiro, who had been silently observing, felt the scrutiny of those black sclerae settle onto him.
"Ah…" Hiroshi mused, his lips curling in amusement. "And you…"
His head tilted just slightly.
"The Uzumaki, I presume?"
Renjiro didn't move. He stared back, unflinching.
Hiroshi's smirk deepened. "Hiruzen-dono, I must say, bringing the cause of this summit to the summit itself is a… bold choice."
Renjiro's shoulders tensed slightly, but his expression remained neutral.
'Those gazes, he must be one of them.'
Hiruzen, however, chuckled lightly. "Well, it wouldn't be a proper discussion without all relevant parties present, don't you agree?"
Hiroshi hummed in approval. "Indeed. You always did know how to keep things… interesting."
The tension between the two leaders stretched.
Then—
Hiruzen's expression hardened.
Enough of the facade.
"Why are you really here, Hiroshi?" he asked.
The Mizukage let a small silence linger before answering.
Then, he spoke.
"A proposal," he said finally, the glint in his black eyes sharp.
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. "A proposal?"
Hiroshi's lips parted into a wolfish smile.
"An alliance, Hokage-dono."
Silence.
Renjiro's fingers twitched ever so slightly. Minato's expression remained neutral, but his blue eyes sharpened.
Hiruzen?
He simply leaned back.
His gaze unreadable.
=====
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