The silence that followed Rasa's proclamation wasn't merely an absence of sound; it was a physical entity, thick and suffocating, pressing down on the occupants of the room like the desert bedrock itself.
The fine, ever-present grit in the air seemed to hang suspended, catching the flickering lamp light in a million minuscule, accusing sparks. Rasa stood panting, the ragged scroll trembling in his outstretched hand, a damning piece of parchment that felt heavier than any boulder.
Satetsu didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the scroll, absorbing the magnitude of the accusation.
Genjutsu on Gani.
The destruction of an Iwa distribution village.
Onoki's personal seal.
Demands for heads and reparations.
An ultimatum veiled in diplomatic parchment.
The cool, strategic calm he'd maintained throughout the logistics meeting was shattered, replaced by a cold, calculating rage that radiated from his rigid posture. He finally moved, a slight extension of his will. The Iron Sand tendril snaked forward with a soft hiss, plucking the scroll from Rasa's grasp with unnerving delicacy.
It floated back to him, unfurling silently before his impassive gaze. His eyes scanned the formal, furious script, the Tsuchikage's seal glaring like a brand.
"Preposterous!" Ebizo spat, slamming a gnarled fist onto the table.
"Genjutsu on Onoki's daughter? Here? Does that bastard rock-for-brains truly believe we are such fools?"
His spectacles magnified the furious disbelief in his eyes.
"If Sunagakure wished Iwa harm, Kazekage-sama, we would not stoop to such… such sneaking way! We would meet their boulders head-on, with the full force of the desert wind! This is an insult wrapped in lies!"
Yakumi leaned forward, the heat radiating from her intensifying, making the air above her shimmer. Her eyes burned. "Ebizo-dono speaks truth. It is insulting," she hissed, "To even imply we would use genjutsu, against the daughter of a Kage during a diplomatic mission? It speaks only of Onoki's own paranoia or his desperation. The destruction of their village?" She scoffed, a dry, scornful sound. "If it were our work, Kazekage-sama, there would be glass where stone once stood, and the scent of scorched earth would linger for decades. Not vague 'marks' of our techniques."
Fukuda though his knuckles were white where they gripped the edge of the table, forced his voice to remain level. "The accusations are baseless, undoubtedly. But the intent behind them is clear. Onoki seeks justification. Either he genuinely believes this madness, which speaks volumes of his current state, or he wants to believe it. He needs an enemy casting us as the treacherous villain suits his narrative."
He glanced at the ANBU Commander, Shiroi Kiba, whose face remained an unreadable cypher, though his stillness had become even more profound like a viator poised to strike. "The question is not the truth, Kazekage-sama, but our response. How do we prevent this spark from igniting the tinderbox?"
"Baseless, yes. But dangerously so. The timing… impeccable." Sajin's hooded gaze swept the room. "Chiyo's absence, focused on young Sasori's… incident. Our focus divided. Our strongest puppeteer and strategist unavailable. And now this? It feels less like Onoki's doing and more like a puppet master pulling his strings as well."
Rasa, still vibrating with indignant fury, echoed Ebizo. "We should respond in kind, Kazekage-sama! Show The Tsuchikage that Sunagakure does not cower before baseless slander!"
Ebizo shook his head sharply, "Rasa, temper your fire! To mobilize now, to posture aggressively, is precisely what the author of this scroll wants! It plays directly into the narrative of Suna as the treacherous aggressor! Onoki would use it as proof positive, rallying his forces and perhaps even drawing hesitant allies like Kumo against us. We would be isolated, fighting on many fronts before the first kunai is thrown!"
"Then what?" Yakumi demanded, "We sit and wait for Iwa's boulders to crush us? Diplomacy? With Onoki? After this?" She gestured contemptuously at the scroll. "He has already judged and sentenced us in his missive. He demands heads, Ebizo-dono! What diplomatic solution exists for that?"
Fukuda interjected, his mind racing through tactical permutations. "Diplomacy might be our only path to time. Time to investigate. Time to uncover the true culprit." He looked pointedly at Sajin and Shiroi Kiba. "This has Konoha's fingerprints all over it. Danzo Shimura's Root thrives on such false flags, turning allies against each other. They weaken both Iwa and Suna, clearing their path. Who benefits most from Iwa and Suna tearing each other apart? Konoha."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the council. Ebizo nodded grimly. "It is the most logical explanation. Konoha sows discord and reaps the rewards."
"But proof, Fukuda?" Satetsu's voice, cold and quiet as a desert night wind, cut through the murmurs. He finally looked up from the scroll, his eyes pinning Fukuda in place.
"Can you provide Onoki with irrefutable proof that Konoha framed us? Proof he would accept over his own rage and suspicion? Proof that would withstand Danzo's expertise in covering tracks?"
The question landed like a thrown kunai. Fukuda opened his mouth, then closed it. Yakumi's fiery gaze flickered with frustration. Sajin seemed to retreat further into his robes. Ebizo sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of harsh reality. Shiroi Kiba's head tilted slightly, a silent acknowledgement of the near-impossible task.
Proof. That was the crux.
Even if Suna's finest trackers found a thread, it would have to be circumstantial, deniable. Onoki, stung by the perceived attack on his daughter and the destruction of his village, his legendary stubbornness inflamed, would dismiss any Suna-provided "evidence" as further lies, more manipulation.
He wanted to believe Suna was guilty. Proof to the contrary would be an insult to his judgment, his power, and his very identity as the Kage of the Stone.
Rasa, unable to contain himself, burst out, "So we do nothing? We let him brand us traitors and murderers? We wait for his armies to gather at our border?"
"No." Satetsu's single word uttered with absolute finality, silenced Rasa instantly. The Kazekage rose slowly from his seat. He radiated a terrifying calm, the eye of the gathering storm. His gaze swept the council, acknowledging their fury, their fear, their desperate search for a solution.
"We do not wait," Satetsu stated, "We do not cower either. But we also do not dance to the tune of the puppeteer, be it Onoki in his rage or Danzo in his shadows. To react with immediate force is to validate the accusation and isolate ourselves. To do nothing is to invite annihilation. There is a third path. The path of the desert viper – measured, precise, striking not at the shadow but at the source of the threat."
He turned his piercing gaze fully onto Rasa. "You spoke of mobilization, Rasa. We will mobilize. Not our armies. Our words. Our alliances." He paused, letting the implication hang.
"Set up talks with Iwa."
A collective gasp, sharp and disbelieving, filled the room. Even Ebizo looked startled. Talks? After this?
"Talks?" Rasa echoed, incredulity warring with his ingrained obedience. "Kazekage-sama! He accuses us of attacking his bloodline! Of destroying his village! He demands heads! What can talks achieve?"
"They achieve time, Rasa," Satetsu replied, his tone brooking no argument. "Time we desperately need. Time for Sajin's sands to whisper the truth from the ruins of that Iwa village. Time for Shiroi to find the seam in Konoha's deception, however well-hidden. Time for Ebizo to analyze every word, every nuance of this scroll and Onoki's known communications, searching for inconsistencies, for the pressure points we can exploit." He looked at the ANBU Commander. "And time for our networks to scour the earth for any whisper, any anomaly, that points away from Suna."
He stepped around the table, the Iron Sand swirling like a miniature sandstorm above him. "We will not go begging. We will not admit guilt. We will demand our proof. We will demand a joint investigation into the destroyed village. We force Onoki to confront the possibility he is being manipulated." Satetsu's eyes hardened. "He is stubborn, not stupid. The seed of doubt, carefully planted amidst his fury, may yet take root. Especially if the cost of ignoring it is too high."
He stopped before Rasa, "When you contact Iwa to arrange the talks… pass the full message. To them, and…" he paused, the weight of the decision palpable, "…to Kumogakure."