The advisor's breath hitched.
One heartbeat earlier, he had been asleep in the warmth of his chamber, secured inside layers of guards, silence, and predictable peace.
Now a masked figure stood beside his futon, close enough to place a hand upon his throat, close enough to slit it, close enough to end him with no struggle, no alarm, no resistance.
He inhaled sharply, his hand darting beneath his pillow where a hidden kunai was stored.
A hand touched his wrist first.
Light pressure. Not forceful. Not violent.
Decisive.
Kanzō Tokudaiji froze completely.
The masked figure did not speak for three long breaths.
The candle flickered.
The advisor's chest rose and fell.
The masked shadow finally spoke.
"I am not your death."
The voice was calm, measured. Male, young, but carrying weight far beyond his age.
The advisor swallowed, throat dry. His kunai slipped from his fingers and fell silently to the tatami mat.
The masked figure continued.
"I am your opportunity."
Silence settled again.
Kanzō Tokudaiji forced himself upright, back straight though his heartbeat hammered wildly. He had negotiated clan feuds, famine policies, court politics, and two succession crises. He had endured assassination attempts and saw through pretenders with sharp insight.
Yet now, he could not read the figure standing in his room.
"You… broke past every guard," Kanzō murmured, trying to regain control of his tone. "No noise. No blood. No trace. This is not the work of an assassin. This is—"
"A message," the masked figure finished.
Kanzō's voice steadied.
"Then deliver it."
The masked shinobi inclined his head slightly, recognizing dignity when it was earned.
He took a single step back, giving the advisor space. Not as courtesy, but to display confidence.
Which, in negotiation, was more dangerous than any blade.
---
The Question of Alliances
"Tell me something," the masked figure said. "Why do you believe the Uchiha and the Hagoromo clans are now allied?"
Kanzō blinked. The question was not what he expected.
"I do not know," he confessed. "No report I possess explains it. No treaties were in motion. No shared bloodlines. No political marriage arranged. It seemed… abrupt."
The masked figure nodded once.
"Correct. It was abrupt. Which is why everyone's assumptions are wrong."
Kanzō frowned.
"Then why?"
The masked figure began to speak, tone even, like reciting the lines of a carefully woven strategy.
"Two underworld bounty hunters. Hired quietly. Hidden well. Ordered to kidnap Daiki Hagoromo, the second son of Gyoza Hagoromo, clan head of the Hagoromo clan."
Kanzō's breath caught.
The masked figure continued.
"They were instructed not only to kidnap him, but to kill him. Leave false evidence. Shift the blame onto the nobles of the Land of Fire and the Fire Daimyō himself. The objective was simple: drive the Hagoromo clan out of the Land of Fire and into the arms of the Land of Lightning. A maneuver that would greatly increase the Land of Lightning prestige, power, and influence."
Kanzō's mind raced.
Political manipulation. Clan migration. Reputation collapse. Soft power war.
Such a plan could shift entire nations.
"You are telling me," Kanzō whispered, "that our neighboring nation attempted to tear away one of our powerful bloodline clan of land of Fire and turn them into a symbol of Fire corruption."
"Yes."
"Who ordered this?"
"The first wife of the Lightning Daimyō. Her noble faction intended to strengthen her branch's influence and position her sons as future heirs, undermining the second wife's line."
Kanzō closed his eyes briefly.
Political war.
Not between nations.
Between wives.
Between heirs.
The most dangerous wars.
"The plan failed," the masked figure continued, "because someone intervened. Someone who defeated both bounty hunters and returned them alive and bound to the Hagoromo clan before the plan could be completed. Someone who turned a tragedy designed to tear bonds apart into an act that forged trust and loyalty."
The advisor exhaled.
"Keiji Uchiha."
The masked figure did not respond, but silence was confirmation.
Of course it was him. The boy the entire capital whispered about. The boy who won the Youth Ninja Competition. The boy who fought with a strange ghostly creature. The boy who stood beside both Uchiha and Hagoromo leaders with equal respect.
Kanzō almost laughed.
No. He had underestimated Keiji Uchiha.
The entire capital had.
That boy with his strange ghostly creature had shifted the balance of two nations.
---
Evidence
The masked figure reached into his cloak and withdrew a sealed scroll. The seal was unique, marked with a branching lightning sigil that only the Land of Lightning nobility used in internal encoded correspondence.
Kanzō's eyes widened.
"You have proof."
"Yes."
The masked figure placed the scroll gently on the floor between them.
"This scroll contains written orders from the Lightning Daimyō's first wife to the bounty handlers, including the payments, contingency routes, and assassination instructions."
Kanzō's fingers hovered over the scroll.
He did not touch it yet.
"Why bring this to me?" he asked. "Why come here at night, in secret, instead of presenting this openly to the court?"
The masked figure's voice lowered.
"Because truth without preparation causes collapse. You are the one who advises the Daimyō. You will understand which threads to pull, and in what order, to avoid war."
The advisor felt his pulse steady.
This masked figure not only brought information.
He brought responsibility.
And trust.
Kanzō bowed his head slightly.
"I see."
The masked shinobi waited.
Then Kanzō reached out and took the scroll.
The paper felt heavier than any blade.
---
The Hidden Question
The masked figure remained silent for several breaths, allowing the advisor to compose himself.
Then he spoke again.
"There is something more."
Kanzō looked up sharply.
The masked figure stepped closer, voice lowering further, near a whisper but clear and steady.
"Do you want to know the true cause of the recent death of the Lightning Daimyō?"
Kanzō froze.
Silence swallowed the room.
The candle flame stilled.
The recent death of the Lightning Daimyō had shaken politics across the continent. Official cause: sudden illness. Rumors of poison. Whispers of clan betrayal. No proof. No trail.
Only questions.
The advisor's heartbeat returned hard.
The masked shinobi's mask reflected the candlelight, expression unreadable.
"His death was not illness. Not accident. Not fate."
The masked figure leaned in slightly.
"It was murder."
Kanzō's breath stopped.
Murder.
By whom?
Why?
How?
His voice cracked.
"Tell me. Who killed him?"
The masked figure did not answer.
Not yet.
Instead, he asked a quiet question, one that landed like a weight upon the advisor's chest.
"Do you truly want to know?"
The room felt colder.
Because the answer to that question would decide his future.
Once known, such truth could not be unseen.
The world would change.
The advisor's fingers tightened on the scroll.
His throat strained.
His voice came out low.
"…Yes."
The masked figure nodded slowly.
Then, in the darkness, he spoke the first word of the truth.
"I will tell you."
The candle flickered.
"But understand this: knowing will bind you to the shadows of your own nation."
The advisor's eyes widened.
The masked figure leaned closer.
"The Lightning Daimyō did not die by foreign hand. He was killed by—"
---
End of the Chapter
---