Azula's latest brainchild was a statement itself: "Why have a fair fight when you can have an orbital delete button?"
Everyone and their sensei knew about exploding tags. They were the basic bitch of fuinjutsu—a Fireball Jutsu crammed into a piece of paper that anyone good at Fuinjutsu with a brush could make.
Azula found them… quaint. Like bringing a sparkler to a volcano fight.
So her mind, a terrifying place where ambition and pyromania held hands and skipped, asked a simple, horrifying question: What if we scaled that up?
Way up.
What if, instead of a piddly Fireball, you sealed a Tailed Beast Ball inside? And not just any Beast Ball, but one juiced up on natural energy until it was spiritually radioactive? And then, for good measure, you left it out in the sun to charge, like a cosmic battery of doom?
The goal was simple: the moment some pale, horny-faced Ōtsutsuki bastard decided to grace the planet with their presence, they wouldn't get a dramatic speech. They'd get a faceful of pre-packaged sunrise, with the force of a god's temper tantrum.
After all, these were beings who'd been hoarding power and plot devices for millennia. Fair play was for suckers and people who enjoyed being reincarnated as a peasant.
Azula preferred the "overkill" approach. She was certain that if this worked, she could stop worrying about Madara and his swirly, purple contact lenses for good.
Let him achieve his perfect, dream-world-ending form. Let him flex his Rinnegan and monologue about the moon.
He'd still have to explain to the Sage of Six Paths why he'd been simultaneously vaporized by a few thousand mini-suns while trying to cast "Infinite Tsukuyomi."
Satisfied with her vision of apocalyptic courtesy, Azula activated her Sharingan. Not for analysis, or copying techniques, or seeing chakra. Please. That was so… utilitarian.
No, she was using the coveted, legendary dōjutsu, feared across nations, for its true greatest purpose: arts and crafts.
The evidence was irrefutable.
Just ask the hundreds of Uchiha authors and manga artists who swore by its perfect recall for getting the shading just right on their latest doujinshi.
They proudly hailed it as the ultimate artistic tool, a claim that made the Hyūga clan green with an envy their Byakugan couldn't even perceive, because honestly, what good was 360-degree X-ray vision when you couldn't even draw a decent stick figure without perspective issues?
And so, with a tool meant for war, Azula began carefully, precisely, drafting the blueprint for the universe's most impolite "hello."
...
...
...
Azula's latest 'brilliant idea' had, as usual, been declared and not discussed.
This was why Mito Uzumaki, Tajima Uchiha, and his wife Asami found themselves not in a dignified council chamber, but elbow-deep in the distinctly un-dignified world of shipbuilding.
The sight was… something.
Two of Konoha's most formidable legends and one very patient kunoichi, all crammed onto a single vessel, looking like a bizarre family of incredibly over-qualified carpenters.
Mito, with her vibrant red hair, looked regal even while sanding a plank. Tajima, all Uchiha intensity, was focusing on a nail like it had personally insulted the Sharingan.
And Asami, the smallest of the three, was diligently following instructions with the serene focus of a woman who had long since accepted that her life was strange.
Tajima wiped sweat from his brow, striking a deliberately thoughtful pose.
"You know," he began, his voice a low rumble, "it's been a long time since I've felt this… free."
Asami's internal mom-alarm blared. Oh, for the love of—Tajima, you magnificent fool, don't just drop a line like that in front of the woman who literally birthed Konoha!
She's going to think you're planning a coup!
She shot him a look that screamed, "Read the room, dear!" but his Sharingan was apparently set to "Oblivious."
To her surprise, Mito just let out a genuine chuckle.
"Isn't it the most ironic thing?" she mused, tapping her lightly. "In Konoha, surrounded by peace and the damn Hokage Rock face, I sometimes feel like a caged bird. Yet here we are, in the beginning of a life-or-death war, and I haven't felt this calm in decades. It's absurd."
Tajima's carefully neutral mask cracked into a small, triumphant smile. Jackpot. This wasn't just idle chatter; this was Phase One of "Operation: Make Azula Hokage."
As a father, the idea of his daughter taking the hat was a siren's call. She was strong, famous, and frankly, already doing most of the work.
But she needed powerful allies. And who was more powerful than the legendary first Hokage's wife?
He needed to know: was Mito disillusioned with the village she helped build? And would she back her brilliant student, or her own granddaughter, Tsunade?
Seeing Mito hadn't taken offense, Asami jumped in to play the loyal Konoha cheerleader, hoping to smooth over any ruffled feathers.
"Oh, come now! Yes, Konoha can be tense, but the security is top-notch! And with all of Azula's… innovations… it's also the most entertaining place in the world. The 'urgency' is just our ninja instincts. It took me five years after retiring to stop hiding kunai in the laundry, hehe!" She said this so gently that Tajima couldn't help but break a cold sweat.
But then he smirked as a flood of fond, chaotic memories washing over him.
He remembered those early years of their marriage, when their relationship was less "happily ever after" and more "mutual assured destruction with shared living quarters."
Now, their youngest was almost a genin. Time flew when you weren't trying to kill each other.
"Different kinds of tension, dear," he said, deftly changing the subject before she could bring up the 'laundry incident'. "Speaking of which, I received some interesting news from my… furry little friends."
He paused while Mito raised an elegant eyebrow. Asami just looked very curious.
"The Cats' Clan informed me of a spat between Suna and Ame. Suna ninja got a bit… suspicious and took out a bunch of Rain civilians. Hanzō is, predictably, furious."
"The Salamander is always furious," Asaminoted dryly.
"Precisely! And a furious so-called Demigod is a manipulable Demigod," Tajima said, his eyes glinting with a scheming light that Asami knew all too well. "Suna is a constant thorn in his side. He'd likely be very open to having a powerful, discreet ally within one of the Five Great Villages. An ally who could, say, make his problems… disappear."
He leaned in conspiratorially. "We could use him."
Mito looked from Tajima's scheming face to Asami's exasperated one, and then down at the half-built ship. She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.
'It will be even better if Tsume and Tsukiyo were here.' She thought.
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
It's really too short but I'm sleepy, here's today's chapter, next I plan to continue the Tobirama's Worst Nightmare Omake