Steam rose from the bowls of ramen as Raven leaned forward, the faint glimmer of her Rinnegan casting a cold light across the counter. Her voice was low, each word sharpened like steel. "As you know, the Mizukage initiated the so-called Red Mist policies of your village."
Mei set her chopsticks down, her turquoise eyes narrowing. "Correction. Those policies began under the previous Mizukage. Yagura simply intensified them and made them far worse."
Raven dipped her head slightly, acknowledging the rebuke. "Then I stand corrected. Either way, your village forces its youth to slaughter one another upon graduation from the academy. Only the strongest are left alive to wear the headband. That is correct, isn't it?"
Mei's expression remained guarded. "In a rough sense, yes. That is correct."
Raven's gaze deepened. "Then allow me to ask: what if I told you that a third party is responsible for Yagura's continuation of these Bloody Mist policies? Their true goal is not strength for your village, but weakness. They are systematically hollowing out your military power from within. Think about it carefully. A generation forced to kill itself before ever reaching the battlefield—does that not serve an enemy's purpose more than your own?"
Mei froze, chopsticks hovering over her second bowl. The corner of her mouth tightened. "Are you suggesting that my Mizukage is being manipulated? That this escalation of brutality is not his will alone, but the work of someone pulling the strings?"
Raven nodded slowly, her tone precise. "Exactly. Yagura's madness is not entirely his own. A third party fuels it, bends it, sharpens it for their design."
Mei resumed eating, slowly now, eyes fixed on Raven. Her movements were measured, as though every slurp of noodles bought her time to weigh the danger of the conversation. "How can I believe your words? You are a stranger. For all I know, you could be the one trying to mislead me."
Raven did not flinch under the scrutiny. "Would any sane leader willingly kill his own soldiers simply to prove that only the strongest survive? Anyone who understands the art of war knows that quantity and quality are not enemies—they are allies. One strengthens the other. No wise commander would willingly butcher his own forces before they ever march to battle."
Her voice dropped further, taking on the cadence of an old lesson. "There is an ancient maxim: 'The greatness of an army lies not in how many it buries, but in how many it raises to surpass themselves.' A true leader cultivates strength through discipline, guidance, and endurance—not by thinning his ranks until nothing remains but blood."
The ramen stand was busy, yet the noise of Takigawa Port seemed to fade beneath the weight of her words. Mei set her bowl aside again, her voice sharpening. "You are saying that Yagura is no longer in his right mind. That all of his actions stem from a twisted ideology forced on him by an unseen hand."
"Yes," Raven replied without hesitation. "Every cruel order he gives, every life he wastes, is dictated by that third party. If you are willing to trust me, I can help you cut those strings and free your village from his bloody reign."
Mei's turquoise eyes narrowed, the fire within them finally igniting. "And what makes you think I even possess the power, the will, or the ambition to oppose Yagura? How do you know this so-called Bloody Mist is not exactly what I want for Kirigakure?"
Raven leaned back slightly, her white hair catching the glow of the ramen stall's lanterns. Her gaze remained steady, unshaken by Mei's challenge. "Because I know more about you than you realize. I know the truth of where you come from, Mei Terumī… and what drives you."
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