After a round of strategizing, the five Kage agreed: everyone would return home, rally their forces, and prepare for a direct showdown with this so-called Uchiha Madara. But that left one big question hanging—who was going to lead this alliance?
Tsunade didn't hesitate to put herself forward. She was young, sharp—take that, Ōnoki—had more experience than the other three, and, let's face it, as the Hokage of Konoha, the top hidden village in the world, she had the clout.
Ōnoki looked like he wanted to say something, his lips twitching, but in the end, he held his peace. Gaara and Mei Terumī both seemed ready to speak up, but whatever was on their minds, they swallowed it down. The Fourth Raikage, ever the straightforward type, just nodded along, not interested in arguing.
The meeting wrapped up with surprising harmony—at least on the surface.
Of course, everyone was dropping hints, subtle and not-so-subtle, that Tsunade should bring out her "secret weapon"—her partner, Rinjin. Especially Ōnoki; the old man was wary of Rinjin's power, but if Rinjin was fighting on their side? That would be a hell of a relief.
Tsunade could only force a smile and dodge the issue for now. She could make calls on the little stuff, but when it came to war—especially one involving the Rain Village—she knew her limits.
After another exhausting journey, Tsunade returned to Konoha with her two adorable disciples. Thanks to Captain Yamato's tireless work and the Konoha construction teams pulling overtime, the village finally had roofs again.
Back at No. 1 Tea Street—the first place to be restored—Tsunade tracked down Rinjin's shadow clone.
She found him in the kitchen, wearing a faded gray apron, calmly stir-frying vegetables.
"Rinjin, where's your real body?" she asked.
The clone didn't rush. He turned off the stove, wiped his hands with a damp cloth, and replied, "No idea. Ever since Dog-bro left Konoha, I haven't seen the guy."
Tsunade's eye twitched. Her partner was full of surprises—a shadow clone kicking around for over twenty years? Ridiculous.
"Do you know how to contact him?"
"Nope. Can't you just summon him?"
"I tried on the way back. The summoning got rejected."
The clone stroked his chin, thinking it over. "Then I'm out of luck… But if you have any questions, ask away. I'll tell you whatever I know."
Tsunade narrowed her amber eyes, clearly skeptical. Who'd trust a clone from two decades ago to have up-to-date intel? What she didn't know: even as a clone, Rinjin's shadow was anything but clueless.
Seeing her doubt, the clone pulled out a feather fan from somewhere and started fanning himself with an air of studied elegance.
"So—the Five Kage Summit. You ran into the masked man, right?" His tone was casual, but there was a weird confidence underneath.
Tsunade froze. Anyone who knew would see he was a shadow clone; anyone who didn't might mistake him for the real deal.
After a beat, she nodded, then asked the question that had been bugging her. "Do you know who he is?"
"Nope. But it sure as hell isn't Uchiha Madara."
"Why?"
"Because Madara's dead. This guy's just taking advantage of the fact that you all don't know what Madara was really like. The real Madara wasn't the type to skulk around in a mask. Have you ever seen a true powerhouse hide his face?"
"You!" Tsunade shot back, not missing a beat.
The clone's face darkened instantly.
Just as he was about to snap back, Tsunade hurried to her next question. "Rinjin, do you know where this mystery man's hideout is?"
"Mountains' Graveyard!" he spat, then—clearly fed up—formed a quick hand seal, activated Flying Thunder God, and vanished.
He'd survived for twenty years and didn't want to poof out of existence. But Tsunade's questions were getting on his nerves, and he really wanted to smack her. Problem was, he was just a clone—no way he could take Tsunade in a fight.
...
Armed with solid intel, Tsunade started reaching out to every village. She set the rally point for their combined forces at the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Iron.
The ninja armies began to mobilize.
Meanwhile, the daimyo were gathered for protection, and Naruto—along with the newly recovered Killer Bee—were stashed away in a secret location.
Time ticked by as the five great nations worked around the clock, preparing for war.
On the other side, Obito left the Mountains' Graveyard, making his own final preparations. With the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path, he'd created a hundred thousand White Zetsu and sealed his deal with Kabuto. Now he was heading out to claim Nagato's Rinnegan.
White Zetsu's intel said that after the failed attempt to destroy Konoha, Konan had taken Nagato's body back to the Hidden Waterfall Village and gone into seclusion.
With Kamui, Obito zipped straight to the Hidden Waterfall Village.
The place was a shadow of its former self—ruins everywhere, the central tower barely standing.
Moving through the gloom, Obito spotted three Akatsuki members at the tower entrance, all in black cloaks with red clouds.
Konan sat with quiet grace atop a stone.
The other two were freelancers he barely knew, but their names stuck: the one grinning on the ground was Hidan, and the masked one leaning against the wall was Kakuzu.
At that moment, the three were having the most random, awkward conversation imaginable.
"Konan, I think if you want a book to grab readers fast, you've got to stick to standardized writing," Hidan said, all serious. "The Golden Three Chapters make a perfect opener—introduce the protagonist's background, lay out the setting, set up a conflict, and drop a hook at the end… That's what gets readers invested."
Konan managed a polite smile, then shook her head. "Kakuzu, you're way too formulaic. Have you ever actually researched the market? What kind of protagonist do readers really want? How do you build anticipation? How do you describe the world without boring people?"
Her tone sharpened slightly as she continued, "Starting formulaic is really just testing your readers' patience and taste. A mediocre opening only attracts mediocre readers. I read an autobiography once—'The Self-Cultivation of an Undercover Agent.' The beginning was awkward as hell, but anyone who stuck with it was patient and deep. Like me, for example. So I suggest you read it."
Sakumo nodded, looking thoughtful, and kept debating writing with Konan.
Off to the side, Rinjin watched the two of them get fired up about writing advice, and he couldn't help but crack up—a sarcastic comment stuck in his throat, unsure where to start.
Should he roast Dog-bro for his terminal straight-man syndrome? Or tease Konan for being a female-genre author giving advice to a clueless male-genre rookie?
And seriously—who the hell actually wrote 'The Self-Cultivation of an Undercover Agent'?!
Talk about completely missing the point.
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