"The frontline squads had holes torn through them," Sasori said, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. "Amegakure's objective is to destroy the personnel our village deployed along the Land of Rain border."
After a brief, tense conversation with Yubi, Sasori had finally gotten down to business.
It was clear that during his time away from the cave, Sasori had encountered other Hidden Rain forces that had penetrated deep into the canyon. He'd learned the truth—probably by interrogating captured enemies or examining their orders.
"The conflict between Amegakure and Konoha basically ended after that big battle," Yubi said thoughtfully, his mind working through the strategic implications. "Hanzo knows perfectly well that this Ninja World War is going to end with Konoha's victory. So after reducing friction with the Land of Fire, he turned his attention—and his forces—toward us instead."
The battle Yubi was referring to was the legendary confrontation between Konoha's Three Legendary Sannin and Hanzo himself. The fight that had earned Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade their title as the "Sannin."
A fight they'd lost, technically, but survived with enough skill that Hanzo had given them a title of respect rather than killing them.
"Konoha will win?" Sasori's voice suddenly turned cold, cutting through Yubi's analysis like a knife.
"The Land of Rain backing down doesn't mean our village is ready for peace talks as well."
Yubi saw the look on Sasori's face and immediately understood his mistake.
Damn it. I spoke without thinking.
He'd instinctively stated his analysis—his transmigrator's knowledge of how events would unfold—without considering who he was talking to.
Sasori's parents had died at the hands of Konoha's White Fang.
His hatred for the Leaf Village ran deep. Bone-deep. The kind of hatred that festered and grew darker with time.
But facts were facts.
Looking at the current situation objectively, in a one-on-one conflict, the Hidden Sand Village—which had already suffered catastrophic losses—had no realistic chance of challenging Konoha.
But Yubi, knowing the future course of events, kept his mouth shut this time.
Some things are better left unsaid.
"Konoha's strength made Hanzo realize he couldn't gain any advantage there," Yubi continued after a moment, carefully steering the conversation back to tactical analysis. "So he's attempting to expand in a different direction—setting his sights on the Land of Wind instead."
He gestured vaguely toward the canyon walls around them. "After all, the Land of Wind has a massive territory, but its resources are relatively scarce. Most of the landscape consists of rocky terrain and deserts. We don't have the same agricultural base or population density that the Land of Fire enjoys."
"More importantly," Yubi added, his voice dropping, "the village is currently short-staffed. We don't have top-tier combat power like Konoha's Three Legendary Sannin that we can deploy wherever they're needed most."
He paused, organizing his thoughts. "In this Ninja World War, several villages are fighting on multiple fronts simultaneously. Even if our village's control over the border is adequate under normal circumstances, once something happens—once a crisis erupts—mobilizing personnel, getting support to the right locations, and investing resources into the battlefield... our response is weak. Slow."
Besides Amegakure and Konoha, Yubi thought grimly, we also have to watch out for the Hidden Mist and Iwagakure. Hanzo's strategic vision is ruthless. He saw the opportunity and took it.
Amegakure's raid on the Land of Wind's border was likely calculated. They'd observed that the Hidden Sand Village wouldn't call a truce with Konoha in the short term—pride and the blood already spilled made that politically impossible.
And although the Hidden Sand Village was one of the Five Great Shinobi Villages, right now, they were the easiest target.
The flames of war between Sunagakure and Konoha had already stretched the village's personnel dangerously thin.
The evidence was everywhere. The deaths in Chiyo's family. The exhausted medical staff at the hospital. The academy graduates being thrown into combat missions with minimal training.
No wonder Chiyo will be so angry when she sees Kakashi in the future, Yubi reflected. They're mortal enemies. Her son and daughter-in-law died fighting Konoha. And Kakashi is the son of the man who killed them.
The cycle of hatred in this world was vicious and self-perpetuating.
"Let's move," Yubi said, snapping back to the present. "We need to relocate."
The three of them—Yubi, Sasori, and Endo—carefully gathered up Kenta's unconscious form and made their way to another hidden position deeper in the canyon. Somewhere more defensible, with better sightlines and multiple escape routes.
Once they'd secured the location, Endo departed to inform other nearby squads about the intelligence they'd gathered—the scale of the Amegakure infiltration, the enemy's apparent objectives, and the holes in their defensive lines.
That left only Sasori and Yubi waiting at their temporary base, watching over Kenta.
"His condition is serious," Yubi said quietly, checking Kenta's pulse and breathing. "He needs to be sent back to the village. Soon."
Sasori glanced at the injured genin, his expression unreadable. "In this environment, even though I'm not a medical ninja, I can tell what his fate will be."
His voice was cold. Clinical.
"Even if we send him back to the village, that's assuming he can withstand the journey in the first place. And with the village's medical facilities operating at maximum capacity right now, they won't have time to care for a low-priority genin like him."
Sasori's dark eyes fixed on Yubi. "You've worked in the hospital. You should know this better than anyone."
A pause.
"He can only blame his own lack of strength."
"..."
Yubi fell silent.
Because Sasori was telling the truth.
This was the battlefield. This was war. Triage wasn't based on fairness or compassion—it was based on cold calculation. Who could be saved? Who was worth the resources? Who would return to combat effectiveness quickly enough to matter?
A genin with severe burns, a destroyed eye, and shrapnel wounds throughout his body? Low priority. Maybe no priority at all.
"That's exactly why," Yubi finally said, his voice quiet but firm, "both the village and the village's ninja must become stronger. Strong enough to change this. Strong enough to end this phenomenon."
Sasori looked at him for a long moment but didn't respond.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the sound of wind whistling through the canyon.
"There are likely more Amegakure squads that infiltrated besides the ones we encountered," Yubi continued, shifting back into analytical mode. "Hanzo's strategy is probably to use these vanguard units to scout the border area—map out our personnel's base locations and patrol routes, assess our current defensive strength, identify weak points."
"All of it to pave the way for a large-scale invasion later."
Yubi's expression darkened. "There's probably going to be a major battle soon. Something big."
The look Sasori gave him was one of surprise.
He'd thought that as a genin their age, Yubi's only notable skill was his medical ability. Impressive for an eight-year-old, certainly, but nothing extraordinary in the grand scheme of things.
He hadn't expected Yubi to have such sophisticated insights into battlefield strategy and the larger political situation.
"I'm not sure," Sasori admitted after a moment, shaking his head. "I captured a survivor earlier and forced some information out of him. But..."
He trailed off.
At their age, many strategic considerations went over their heads. That was normal. Expected, even.
Sasori knew how to kill enemies to protect the village. That was his role. That was what he'd been trained to do.
But Yubi's level of thinking was clearly on a different plane entirely.
The village's current state, Yubi thought, his frown deepening. And the will of the leadership...
He could see where this was headed.
The Hidden Sand Village would eventually yield to Konoha. It was inevitable. Written into the future like destiny.
Because if the conflict continued, the Hidden Sand would be the first major village to collapse. Their losses were unsustainable.
The Third Kazekage wasn't stupid. He'd see the writing on the wall and sue for peace.
But that compromise—that surrender, in Sasori's eyes—would be unacceptable to the boy sitting across from him.
Sasori's parents had already died in battle because of the village's decisions. Because of the Third Kazekage's orders. And before Sasori could even avenge them, the village would 'give up.'
That's going to push him even further into darkness, Yubi realized with cold certainty.
The current Sasori, although somewhat withdrawn and emotionally distant due to his parents' deaths, was still within the range of 'normal.' Still salvageable. Still capable of connecting with others, even if he chose not to most of the time.
But later, when Konoha's White Fang committed suicide—when even Sasori's target for revenge was taken away from him—all that dissatisfaction and loss that had been accumulating for years would need an outlet.
And that outlet would be the Third Kazekage.
Sasori would blame him for everything. For the deaths. For the surrender. For the futility of it all.
And that series of events would completely sever the bond between Sasori and the Hidden Sand Village.
He'd be too disappointed. Too betrayed. Too done with all of it.
The peace talks between Sunagakure and Konoha are going to plant a time bomb, Yubi thought grimly. One that will explode years from now and change everything.
Actually, Sasori probably didn't even remember that Yubi had met him many times before either of them entered the Ninja Academy.
Back then, Sasori had still smiled. In Yubi's memories from those early days, Sasori had been a soft, cute, shy little boy who would sometimes blush when meeting adults or being praised by his grandmother.
As a transmigrator, Yubi had paid close attention to the plot-relevant characters in the village from the moment he'd realized where he was.
But three years ago, with the death of his parents, Sasori's personality had undergone a dramatic shift.
He'd become withdrawn. Isolated. He rarely left his house, and even within the village, he was seldom seen.
At the Ninja Academy, although Sasori had technically been in the same class as Yubi, he'd barely attended. As a puppet master, most of his real training came directly from Grandmother Chiyo. With his natural talent, formal schooling was mostly irrelevant—graduating and becoming a genin had just been a bureaucratic formality.
That's why Sasori wasn't very familiar with his peers or people in his age group.
Most of them were strangers to him.
The Second Great Ninja War depleted the Hidden Sand's vitality, Yubi reflected, and the village didn't even recover by the time the Third Great Ninja War rolled around. Combat power was always stretched thin. That's what forced Rasa to use his Magnet Release to manipulate gold dust later—trading raw resources for usable materials. That's what forced him to make his own son into a jinchuriki.
Desperate measures for desperate times.
"Sasori had expectations for the village," Yubi murmured, half to himself. "But some things..."
He looked at Sasori again, really looked at him.
It wasn't just Sasori's parents. Even the village's own kunoichi, Pakura—the Hero of the Hidden Sand—would eventually be used as a bargaining chip. Sacrificed to appease the Hidden Mist during peace negotiations.
The Hidden Sand Village had done this kind of thing more than once. Trading lives for political convenience. Discarding loyal ninja like trash when it became expedient.
Now that I've become a member of Sunagakure, Yubi thought, his resolve hardening, I need to find a way to change this situation. To prevent things from deteriorating even further. Otherwise...
His gaze sharpened.
At its root, it's all because we're not strong enough.
Because I'm not strong enough.
Yet.
The word hung in his mind like a promise.
Or a threat.
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