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Ohnoki stood at the window of his office, his aged hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out at Iwagakure. The village was quiet today, unusually so. The familiar sounds of training and commerce seemed muted, as if the entire village held its breath, waiting.
"Tsuchikage-sama," a voice called from behind him. "The council is ready."
Ohnoki didn't turn around. "Tell them I'll be there shortly."
The messenger left, and Ohnoki continued staring at his village. The morning sun cast long shadows across the stone buildings, reminding him of another morning, decades ago, when he'd faced Madara Uchiha.
"You're getting sentimental in your old age," he muttered to himself.
The walk to the council chamber was slow, his back aching more than usual. As he entered, the council members rose from their seats. Twelve of Iwa's most powerful and influential shinobi, and all of them looked as unsettled as he felt.
"Let's begin," Ohnoki said, taking his seat. "What's the latest word from our intelligence division?"
Akatsuchi, one of his most trusted advisors, cleared his throat. "Still no word from Kurotsuchi's team, Tsuchikage-sama. Our last contact was two weeks ago, just before..." He trailed off.
"Before Uzumaki's speech," Ohnoki finished. "Speak freely. We're all thinking about it."
"How is this even possible?" councilwoman Suzume demanded. "To reach every chakra user in the world simultaneously? It defies everything we know about jutsu range and capability."
Ohnoki closed his eyes, remembering that moment. He'd been reviewing mission reports when the voice had invaded his mind, clear as a bell, yet somehow both intimate and vast.
"The Rinnegan," he said quietly. "He claimed to use the Rinnegan."
"Impossible," another council member scoffed. "The Rinnegan is a myth."
"Like the Sage of Six Paths was a myth?" Ohnoki's voice carried an edge. "I've lived long enough to see many 'impossible' things become reality. You think Rinnegan is a myth, and if you asked me two weeks ago if it's possible to speak with every shinobi of the world. I would have called you mad, yet here we are. The closest thing to this is the ability of Clan Yamanaka, but even their most powerful Telepathy Jutsu can reach only a hundred Shinobi at best."
Akatsuchi leaned forward. "What troubles me most is his declaration of conquest. He specifically mentioned ending the profit from war, changing the system itself."
"Idealistic nonsense," Suzume interrupted. "Every young revolutionary thinks they can change the world, they all started that way, they all do. I think this one will be the same."
Ohnoki shook his head. "No, this is different. I've seen many would-be revolutionaries, but none that could speak to the entire world. None that could challenge Konoha's strongest and survive." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "None that reminded me of Madara Uchiha."
The room fell silent at that name. Most of them were too young to remember, but they all knew the stories.
"Why are you bringing up a dead man?"
"Tell them," Akatsuchi urged quietly. "Tell them about that day."
Ohnoki nodded slowly. "I was young, barely twenty-two. We'd launched an assault on Fire Country's border, thinking Konoha was weakened. Instead, we met Madara." His voice grew distant with memory. "He didn't just defeat us. He humiliated us. Showed us how vast the gap was between our power and his. When he spoke of Iwa being nothing but servants to the Leaf, it wasn't a taunt. It was a statement of fact, as he saw it."
"And you see the same in Uzumaki?" a younger council member asked skeptically.
"Not exactly the same, no. Madara's power was like a forest fire, consuming everything in its path. Uzumaki's..." Ohnoki frowned, searching for the words. "His is like an ocean. Calm on the surface, but with depths we can't begin to fathom."
"Then what do you suggest?" Suzume asked. "We can't simply wait for him to come for us."
"Kumo has already reached out," Akatsuchi reported. "They're proposing an alliance. Suna is likely to join as well, given what happened to their forces in Konoha."
"And what exactly did happen?" another councilor demanded. "We have rumors of massive casualties, the death of the Third Hokage, buildings reduced to rubble. But no concrete information."
"Which is precisely what worries me," Ohnoki said. "A battle that large, involving that level of destruction, and yet our intelligence networks have nothing solid? It's as if someone is controlling the flow of information."
A young jonin burst into the chamber, breathing hard. "Tsuchikage-sama! We've received a message from Kurotsuchi's team!"
Ohnoki straightened. "Report!"
"They're a day's travel from the village, sir. But..." The jonin hesitated. "The message was strange. Just three words: 'He was right.'"
The council chamber erupted in murmurs and speculation. Ohnoki raised his hand for silence.
"Akatsuchi, meet them at the gate personally. I want Kurotsuchi brought directly to me, no delays."
"Sir," Suzume interjected, "shouldn't we discuss the Kumo alliance first? They're expecting an answer."
Ohnoki stood slowly, his joints protesting. "Tell them we need time to consider. I want to hear what my granddaughter has to say before we commit to anything."
As the council dispersed, Akatsuchi lingered. "You're worried about what she'll tell us."
"I'm worried about what changed her," Ohnoki corrected. "Kurotsuchi has always been headstrong, determined. She hates Konoha almost as much as she loves Iwa. For her to send a message like that..."
"You think Uzumaki got to her somehow?"
Ohnoki moved to the window again, watching as clouds gathered on the horizon. "I think we're dealing with something we don't understand. Madara wanted to destroy us. Uzumaki..." He shook his head. "He wants to change us. And somehow, that's far more frightening."
Later that night, alone in his office, Ohnoki reviewed the transcript of Naruto's speech for what felt like the hundredth time.
"A just world," he murmured. "As if such a thing could exist."
A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter."
Akatsuchi stepped in, his expression grave. "They're here."
Kurotsuchi entered behind him, and Ohnoki barely recognized his granddaughter. She looked physically unchanged, but there was something different in her eyes, a weight that hadn't been there before.
"Grandfather," she said quietly.
"Leave us," Ohnoki commanded, and Akatsuchi withdrew, closing the door behind him.
For a long moment, grandfather and granddaughter studied each other in silence.
"What happened in Konoha?" Ohnoki finally asked.
Kurotsuchi moved to the window, staring out at the night sky. "Everything we thought we knew was wrong."
"Explain."
She turned to face him. "Do you remember what you told me about Madara Uchiha? How his power made you question everything you believed about what was possible?"
Ohnoki nodded slowly.
"Uzumaki is stronger."
"Impossible," Ohnoki breathed.
"I thought so too. When I faced him in the preliminaries, he defeated me easily, but I assumed he was just better prepared, more skilled." She laughed bitterly. "I had no idea what real power was until the invasion."
"Tell me everything."
And so she did. She told him about the chaos when Suna attacked, about the sudden appearance of Edo Tensei warriors, about Naruto revealing his Rinnegan and facing down legends.
"He fought Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha simultaneously," she said, her voice filled with awe and fear. "The power they wielded... it was like watching gods battle. And he won."
Ohnoki's hands gripped his desk. "You're certain?"
"I saw it with my own eyes. But that's not what changed my mind about him." She met his gaze directly. "It was what he showed us afterward."
"Showed you?"
"He has this ability... he can share memories, experiences. He showed us the truth about the shinobi world. About how the village system really works, about the deals made in darkness, about how many deaths could have been prevented if not for profit and pride." Her voice cracked slightly. "He showed us children dying in wars started by old men in comfortable offices. He showed us treaties signed in blood and broken for gold. He showed us everything we pretend not to see."
Ohnoki felt cold. "Propaganda. Genjutsu."
"That's what I thought at first. But you can't fake that kind of truth. You can't manufacture that level of detail." She stepped closer to his desk. "Grandfather, everything he said in that speech was true. The system is broken. It has been from the start."
"So you support his conquest?" Ohnoki demanded. "You believe one man should rule the world?"
"I believe the world needs to change," she replied firmly. "And I believe he's the only one with both the power and the will to change it."
Ohnoki stood, ignoring the pain in his back. "You sound like you've been brainwashed."
"I sound like someone who's finally seen the truth." She pulled a scroll from her pouch and placed it on his desk. "He asked me to give you this. Said you'd understand after reading it."
Ohnoki stared at the scroll. "And if I refuse to read it?"
"Then you'll make your decisions based on incomplete information. Just like we've all been doing for generations." She remained there, waiting for her grandfather to read the scroll. "He's coming, grandfather. Not to destroy us, but to change us. The question is whether we'll help build something better or die defending something broken."
Ohnoki stood for a long time, staring at the scroll. Finally, with hands that trembled slightly, he broke the seal.
As he read, his eyes widened, and for the second time in two weeks, he felt that old fear return.
"So that's your real plan, Uzumaki," he whispered to the empty room. "Not just conquest. Not just change." He looked out at his village, seeing it with new eyes. "You want to break the wheel entirely."
"What do you think, grandfather?" She asked the moment he set down the scroll on his desk, her eyes full of hope, but there was something strange in the way she talked.
Ohnoki's wrinkled face creased further with concern. "Tell me everything you heard on your journey home. One thousand kilometers is a long way to travel alone."
"In the Land of Rivers, I stayed at an inn where several merchants were discussing what their shinobi escorts had told them. They spoke of how the ground itself seemed to rise and fall like waves during Naruto's battle with the First Hokage."
"Exaggerations," Ohnoki dismissed with a wave of his hand, his mesh armor visible under his green and white Kage robes.
"Perhaps, but in the Land of Rain, I met a group of wandering ninja who claimed they saw massive wooden structures, larger than mountains, fighting against something they described as 'purple mechanical warriors floating in the sky.'"
Ohnoki's eyes narrowed. "The First Hokage's Wood Style against the Rinnegan's abilities, no doubt. Continue."
"Near our borders, I heard the most... concerning rumors. People spoke of how Naruto didn't just defeat the First Hokage and Madara Uchiha - he dominated them. They say he showed power that made even those legendary figures seem small."
Kurotsuchi's voice carried an edge of admiration that made Ohnoki uncomfortable. She continued, "But what struck me most was how he fought. It wasn't just raw power, grandfather. Every move had purpose, every technique was precisely calculated. This wasn't some hot-headed kid throwing around jutsu."
"You sound impressed," Ohnoki observed sharply.
"I am," she admitted, straightening her jacket. "When he defeated me in the preliminaries, I thought it was just luck. But now... I understand he was holding back. Significantly."
"And what of these other rumors you mentioned? The ones you can't confirm?"
Kurotsuchi's expression became more serious. "People whisper that he's already gathered followers in every major village. That he has spies everywhere, allies in places we'd never suspect. Some say he can appear anywhere instantly, like the Fourth Hokage could."
"That's enough," Ohnoki interrupted, descending slightly in his floating position. "You're right - these are just rumors. But what troubles me more is your apparent admiration for this boy who just destroyed a significant portion of one of our rival villages."
"Grandfather, you heard his speech. It wasn't just words - it felt like he was speaking directly to my soul. He talked about ending the system that profits from sending children to die-"
"A system that has maintained balance for generations!" Ohnoki's voice rose. "Yes, it's imperfect, but it's better than the constant warfare of the past. This boy, with all his power and grand ideas, what does he know of maintaining peace between nations?"
"Maybe that's exactly why he could succeed where others failed," Kurotsuchi argued, her voice stronger now. "He's not bound by the old ways of thinking. He sees things differently."
Ohnoki floated closer to his granddaughter, his expression stern. "Listen carefully, Kurotsuchi. You are the future of this village. My successor. Don't let pretty words and impressive displays of power cloud your judgment. This boy, no matter how powerful, is threatening to upend the entire shinobi world order."
"But what if the order needs to be upended?" she challenged, then quickly added, "I'm not saying I support him. I'm saying we should at least consider his points about the system."
"The system," Ohnoki sighed heavily, "is not perfect. But it's what we have. And it's my duty - our duty - to protect it and our people. Now, tell me about Roshi. Any word of him during your journey?"
Kurotsuchi's heart raced slightly, but her face remained neutral. "No, grandfather. No one mentioned seeing the Four-Tails' jinchūriki."
Ohnoki studied her face carefully. "Very well. You're dismissed. But Kurotsuchi..." he called as she turned to leave, "be very careful about expressing such opinions about Uzumaki publicly. Not everyone will be as understanding as your grandfather. You haven't been here to see it, but the last two weeks here has been a nightmare. The shinobis fear that this Naruto has power that we can't even comprehend, the civilians didn't hear the speech, but the Shinobis were more than happy to tell them what they heard, so keep it quiet for now."
As Kurotsuchi left the office, her footsteps echoing down the stone hallway, she whispered to herself, "You don't understand, grandfather. The world is already changing. We can either adapt or be left behind."
Outside, the sun was setting behind Iwagakure's rocky spires, casting long shadows across the village.
In his office, Ohnoki turned to gaze out his window, his aged eyes scanning the village he had protected for so many years. "Uzumaki Naruto," he muttered, "what kind of world are you truly trying to create? And more importantly, how many will die before your vision is realized?"
He noticed a hawk circling above the village - one of Iwa's messenger birds returning from a long journey. Something told him that more news of the young revolutionary would be arriving soon, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for what it might bring.
The old Kage reached for a scroll on his desk, one containing reports from their border patrols. If Naruto truly had spies everywhere, as the rumors suggested, then Iwa needed to be prepared. But as he reviewed the reports, one thought kept nagging at him: Was his granddaughter right? Was he too bound by old ways of thinking to see that maybe, just maybe, the world needed to change?
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had lived through three great wars, seen countless promises of change and revolution. In his experience, they all led to the same place - more death, more suffering, just under a different banner. Yet something about this situation felt different, and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
In her quarters, Kurotsuchi sat at her desk, writing in a small journal. The words flowed from her brush: "The world is changing. And despite what grandfather thinks, I believe it's changing for the better. Naruto Uzumaki... you've given us all something we haven't had in a long time - hope for a truly different future."
She closed the journal and sealed it with a jutsu, knowing that some thoughts were better kept private, at least for now.
In his office, Ohnoki finally settled into his chair, his back protesting as always. He pulled out an old bingo book and added a new entry: "Naruto Uzumaki - Approach with extreme caution. Potential to reshape the shinobi world." After a moment's hesitation, he added one more line: "Motivation: Unknown, but potentially more dangerous than his power."
The Streets of Iwa
In the bustling Stone Market district of Iwagakure, conversations buzzed among shinobi of all ranks. The marketplace, with its terraced stone buildings and hanging lanterns, had become an unofficial gathering place for those discussing recent events.
At the popular Granite Tea House, a group of veteran jonin sat around a worn wooden table. Gari, a renowned explosion corps member wearing a sleeveless brown flak jacket with distinctive red trim, spoke in hushed tones.
"The boy defeated both Hashirama and Madara, at least that's what I heard? Reanimated or not, that's beyond belief," Gari muttered, his scarred hands wrapped around a steaming cup.
Across from him, Anderson adjusted his red utility belt over his standard Iwa uniform. "My cousin was there on a merchant protection mission. Said the sky turned black with metallic rods before they started raining down like senbon from heaven."
"That's nothing," interrupted Suzumebachi, a kunoichi in her thirties wearing a modified Iwa uniform with a yellow sash. "I heard he can pull souls from bodies with a touch. Some of my ANBU contacts claim he did it to several Root agents."
In another corner of the tea house, younger chunin gathered around Kitsuchi, Kurotsuchi's father, who wore his characteristic red uniform with brown armor plates.
"Sir, what's the official stance on this?" asked a young chunin named Kenji, his standard gray uniform still crisp and new.
Kitsuchi's expression remained stern. "Officially, we're maintaining neutrality while gathering information. Unofficially..." he paused, looking around, "the Tsuchikage is concerned about internal sympathizers."
At the bar, two older shinobi veterans, survivors of the Third Great War, spoke in grave tones.
"Reminds me of Namikaze all over again," grumbled Tetsuha, an aging kunoichi with gray-streaked hair and traditional Iwa battle robes. "Another yellow-haired demon from Konoha."
Her companion, Gantetsu, wearing a weathered flak jacket with numerous battle scars, shook his head. "This is different. The Yellow Flash fought for Konoha. This one... he's fighting against the entire system."
Near the entrance, a group of newly promoted genin huddled excitedly, their headbands still shiny and new.
"Did you hear his speech?" whispered Saki, a young kunoichi with short brown hair tied back with her headband. "About how the system profits from our deaths?"
"Quiet!" hissed her teammate Roku, adjusting his mesh armor underneath his gray jacket. "You want to get labeled a sympathizer?"
In the marketplace outside, two members of the Explosion Corps discussed the implications while examining weapon supplies.
"If he could defeat those legends," said Bakuha, checking the edge of a kunai, his distinctive red and brown corps uniform marking him as a senior member, "what chance would any of us have?"
His partner, Nindo, wearing the standard corps uniform with additional explosive tag pouches, replied thoughtfully, "Maybe that's not the point. Maybe we're not supposed to fight him."
Near the Academy, three instructors watched their students practice basic jutsu. Usually, at this hour, they all would be at home, back to their families, but for the past week, they have decided that students should spend more time in the Academy.
"The kids keep asking questions," sighed Maki, a senior instructor in traditional Iwa teaching robes. "About why we fight, why villages exist, why we send children to war."
"Dangerous questions," responded Shiro, his colleague in standard chunin attire with an instructor's badge. "But valid ones."
"The real question," added Yumi, adjusting her stone-gray flak jacket, "is whether we have good answers for them."
In the training grounds, a squad of special jonin practiced combat formations, their conversation drifting to current events.
"I heard he offered sanctuary to missing-nin who support his cause," said Kurobo, performing a earth-style jutsu.
"Makes sense," replied Joro, dodging stone projectiles. "Who better to recognize a broken system than those who've left it?"
As night fell, the conversations continued in homes and barracks throughout Iwagakure. In one ANBU safehouse, operatives discussed intelligence reports.
"Multiple countries report missing-nin disappearing," stated Hawk, his stone-patterned mask gleaming in the lamplight.
"Defecting to his cause?" asked Bear, checking his weapon pouches.
"Unknown," replied Hawk. "But the timing is suspicious."
In the civilian districts, even non-shinobi discussed the events, having heard from their shinobi protectors.
"My brother's a chunin," said a merchant closing his shop. "Says half the young shinobi secretly admire this Uzumaki kid."
Throughout Iwagakure, opinions varied widely. Veterans remembered past promises of revolution and change that only brought more bloodshed. Younger shinobi questioned the system they were born into. Some saw Naruto as a threat to be eliminated, others as a potential harbinger of necessary change.
But perhaps most telling were the quiet conversations in hidden corners, where shinobi of all ranks whispered about a future different from the endless cycle of violence they'd known. Whether they supported Naruto's methods or not, his actions had sparked something that couldn't be undone - the beginning of doubt in the system they'd all taken for granted.
Ohnoki
In the ANBU headquarters beneath Iwagakure, Ohnoki stood before a masked shinobi whose gray armor bore distinctive red markings.
"Watch her carefully, Jex. Every movement, every conversation."
"Lord Tsuchikage, you suspect your own granddaughter?" Jex's mask concealed his expression, but his voice carried a note of concern.
"I suspect everyone these days. Her sudden change of heart... it's not like her." Ohnoki stroked his beard. "Perhaps a powerful genjutsu..."
The following morning, sunlight filtered through the high windows of the council chamber. The room's circular design, with its tiered stone seating, emphasized the gravity of the gathering. Clan heads filled their designated seats, their expressions grim.
Bakuton Morita, leader of the Explosion Corps, adjusted his distinctive red and brown uniform. "The streets are tense, Lord Tsuchikage."
"Report," Ohnoki commanded, his small frame somehow filling the massive stone chair.
Kitsuchi, wearing his characteristic red uniform, stepped forward. "People are... unsettled. Yesterday, I heard someone claim the Uzumaki boy could split mountains with a whisper."
"Ridiculous," scoffed Kamizuru Suzumebachi, head of the bee-using clan. "But dangerous. Such stories spread fear."
"Some of our younger shinobi," continued Kitsuchi, "speak of his ideas in secret. About changing the system."
Ishikawa Gorou, head of the Stone Fist clan, slammed his fist on the table. "Treasonous talk! They should rot in the Melted Prison!"
"And make martyrs of them?" Ohnoki's sharp voice cut through the chamber. "Give his supporters proof of the very system he claims to fight against?"
The room fell silent.
"My lord," ventured Akatsuchi, "what do you propose?"
Ohnoki's eyes narrowed. "Fight rumor with rumor. Spread stories of his failures, his weaknesses. Make him human in their eyes."
"And my daughter?" Kitsuchi asked quietly.
"She will be watched," Ohnoki replied. "But carefully. We must not push her further from us."
In the back of the chamber, Gari of the Explosion Corps leaned forward. "What of the missing-nin reports? They say more disappear each day."
"Let them run," Ohnoki waved dismissively. "Better to know who's truly loyal now than learn it too late."
An elderly woman in traditional Iwa robes, Kohaku of the Medical Corps, spoke up. "The Academy instructors report troubling questions from the students. They heard his message too."
"Children are impressionable," Ohnoki acknowledged. "Have the instructors emphasize our village's strength, our unity."
"And if he comes here?" asked a scarred jonin near the front.
The room grew tense. Everyone had heard the reports from Konoha - the devastation, the defeated legends.
"If he comes," Ohnoki's voice was steel, "he'll find we're not Konoha. We're Iwagakure. We bend like stone - never."
After the meeting, in a private chamber, Ohnoki met with his ANBU commanders.
"Spread the word," he instructed. "Make him a monster in some tales, a fool in others. Mix truth with lies until even his supporters don't know what to believe."
"And the sympathizers?" asked Bear Mask.
"Watch them. Record them. But do not touch them." Ohnoki's eyes glinted. "Let them think they're safe. The truly dangerous ones will reveal themselves in time."
Later that evening, Jex appeared in his office and reported back to Ohnoki.
"Kurotsuchi spent three hours in the archives today, studying old war records."
"Which wars?"
"The Second Shinobi World War. Specifically, accounts of the Uzumaki clan's fall."
Ohnoki frowned. "Continue watching. If she makes any unusual moves..."
"Understood, Lord Tsuchikage."
As night fell over Iwagakure, lights flickered in windows across the terraced city. In tea houses and training grounds, on street corners and in homes, people whispered about the yellow-haired demon who could defeat legends, or the fool boy playing at revolution, or the savior who would change everything.
And in his tower, Ohnoki stood at the window, watching his village and wondering if the foundations of the world he'd helped build were already crumbling beneath his feet.
"Prove me wrong, old friend," he muttered, thinking of Hiruzen's fate. "Prove me wrong about where trust leads."
In the streets below, an ANBU operative in civilian clothes sat at a ramen stand, carefully dropping his first seeds of doubt:
"You heard about the Uzumaki boy? They say he burned down an orphanage in Lightning Country..."
At another corner, a different operative whispered:
"The Uzumaki? Heard he couldn't even master basic jutsu in the academy..."
The whispers spread like ripples in a pond, each carrying a different version of truth and lies, weaving a web of uncertainty through the streets of Iwagakure.
And somewhere in the shadows, Kurotsuchi closed another dusty tome about the fall of Uzushiogakure, not knowing she was being watched.
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