Chapter 8: Silence
Moderation is an art.
Compromise is a choice.
After so many years, Hiruzen Sarutobi had clearly become used to making these kinds of decisions—never fully leaning one way or the other, always giving a bit to each side without outright rejecting either. Unless the issue touched on a non-negotiable bottom line, this was his default approach.
Naturally, Danzo Shimura was dissatisfied with such indecisiveness. But when he saw the determined look in Hiruzen's eyes…
"Hmph. I suppose this works."
"Yes, this approach is cautious and sound," nodded Mitokado Homura and Utatane Koharu in turn.
Danzo had no choice but to swallow down the rest of his objections.
At least he still retained a certain level of autonomy.
Orochimaru was tasked with investigating Kirigakure?
That meant the investigation would essentially fall under his influence.
'Hmph! I'm no soft-hearted fool like Hiruzen. Kirigakure... just you wait!'
A sinister gleam flickered in Danzo's eyes.
"Understood."
"Got it."
Orochimaru and Jiraiya answered one after another.
Despite the aggressive posture from both Kirigakure and Kumogakure, a full-scale war hadn't broken out—yet.
The one who makes the first move always bears the heaviest consequences.
Multi-front warfare was a nightmare scenario even for a village as strong as Konoha, let alone for the others.
Following the conclusion of the high-level meeting, Shikaku Nara—present as the official record keeper—quickly passed along Sarutobi's orders.
Elite shinobi were gathered, prepped to depart alongside Jiraiya and Orochimaru to different border zones. The rest of the village's ninja forces received standby orders—ready to march at a moment's notice.
And with that, the colossal war machine known as Konohagakure began to turn.
Before his departure, Orochimaru paid a secret visit to Root's hidden base, where he had a long, private discussion with Danzo.
Later, when he finally led his team out of Konoha, heading southeast toward the coastal border of the Land of Fire, several elite Root squads left along with him.
The coordinated movements of three major Hidden Villages did not go unnoticed.
Though no official declarations of war had yet been made and border deployments had yet to exceed a thousand shinobi, the potential for conflict was high and ever-looming.
While Iwagakure and Sunagakure remained on standby for now, other nearby minor nations—like Yugakure, Kusagakure, Amegakure, Takigakure, and even the samurai forces of the Land of Iron—entered high alert.
When the great nations go to war, it's always the small ones that suffer first.
Across the continent, tension gripped the entire ninja world.
Merchants dealing in inter-country trade began rethinking their routes, delaying departures unless backed by the authority of a powerful nation. Losing cargo was the least of their worries—disappearing along with it was the real danger.
As for the daimyos, nobles, and officials of the Five Great Nations?
They slipped into spectator mode.
To them, victory for their ninja village was certainly important.
But not too important.
After all, a country and its shinobi village weren't the same thing.
Their relationship had long outgrown any simplistic label.
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"So, war really is coming..."
Beneath the darkening sky, ordinary villagers of Konoha watched as their shinobi rushed past, expressions tinged with anxiety.
They weren't worried about Konoha's strength. As the largest and strongest Hidden Village—victorious in both previous ninja wars—Konoha had earned their trust.
No, what they feared was the inevitable toll of war.
Tens of thousands of Konoha shinobi had died in the last two wars.
Who could say the next casualty wouldn't be a loved one?
They could only pray quietly in their hearts.
Only in moments like this would a handful of them begin to regret Sakumo Hatake's death.
Because in times of crisis, the value of a powerful shinobi became all the more apparent.
That sense of security...
It couldn't be replaced by numbers alone.
With tensions sharpening and conflicts escalating, the shinobi world teetered on the edge of chaos.
And yet—for now—none of this had anything to do with Kakashi.
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Zzzzzz...
Oblivious to the world beyond, Kakashi remained immersed in his training.
His full focus was locked on the arc of lightning dancing across his palm—lightning so intense it would awe any ordinary shinobi.
Not daring to lose concentration for even a second, he steadily refined its shape and control.
Each slight change in the chakra's form sent jolts of electricity racing up his arm—painful, exhilarating, and volatile.
Trying to force control all at once—
"Hup!"
As Kakashi tensed both hands to clamp the energy—
"Damn—!"
The chakra flared out of control.
Blinding light erupted.
Kakashi's expression shifted instantly.
He threw the unstable mass away and leapt back as fast as he could.
ZzzzzZZZZ—BOOM!
A sharp thunderclap followed by a blast of azure light lit up the area.
"Cough... cough..."
As the dust settled, Kakashi stumbled back into view—soot-covered and disheveled.
'Still too much... I need to ease up on the chakra output. Can't rush this.'
He looked at the scorched palm of his right hand, wincing at the pain. With a small shake of his head, he sighed.
Even though this jutsu had been originally developed by his predecessor self, the hurdles still remained.
Just mastering the lightning chakra's shape transformation was enough to stop most shinobi in their tracks.
One slip, and things exploded.
And this was with preparation—had he hesitated or pulled back too slowly, this wouldn't have ended in just soot and bruises.
He'd be dealing with a serious injury. Or worse.
Creating new jutsu—especially offensive ones involving lightning—had always come with risk.
Severe injury or even death wasn't just a possibility.
It had precedent.
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