𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡 - Chapter 62 - Arthuria_PenDragon (2024)

Chapter Text

“Don’t let your enemies define the conflict. If you let them do that, you’ll lose every time.”

— Senju Butsuma; Clan Head of the Senju before the Founding^[96]

Paper swished softly in the silence of the Hokage office, as Goidaime Hatake Kakashi straightened his newest set of reports from the shinobi deployed on border patrols.

And honestly, what he read again and again was not to his liking. Despite the boys deterring Iwa from the Outpost... And the recent attempt against Asura failing...

Ōnoki’s forces were still skulking around the border. Some of them just inside Hi no Kuni, under surveillance of the Konoha forces.‘But this can’t go on forever. Iwa’s being suspicious. They act like they have plans to break that flimsy peace treaty,’ he mused, flipping to Jiraiya’s report.

As much as the Gamma Sannin was not his favourite shinobi right now... or likely ever again, he was a powerful shinobi and an even more skilled spy master. And Jiraiya talked of a group made of powerful shinobi. Akatsuki, who according to the little the man could gather, were trying to achieve world peace of all things... throuh questionable methods. To be honest, all that only made Kakashi fidget in his seat uncomfortably. He might have grown a little... skittish, ever since finding out about a ... creature trying to resurrect the Mother of Chakra and her primordial... pet tree god? So... excuse him.

So, things were, as they stood now, slipping out of control. And he could not allow that. Not ever, but especially not now. The boys said their crazy, goddess grandmother might be... found on Earth in their lifetime. And Kakashi was not that much older than them. Meaning, said mad goddess could very much descend upon them during his tenure as Hokage. And he would rather have a village and a world to fight for, then for primordial deities to find the shinobi world torn to tatters by itself, due to petty squabbles. Meaning that this brewing political nightmare had to be nipped in the bud.

After a long moment, the Copy Ninja sighed. When… had being Hokage become so… troublesome, to steal the Naras’ line?

“Nezumi!” he called.

Shadows shifted and a moment later, the man was kneeling before his desk, barely making a sound. ‘Yet,’ Kakashi mused, almost absent-mindedly, ‘Asura could find us without trouble, back in the Academy, before IT happened.’

“Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi’s lips twitched under the fine cloth mask. He may have embraced his duties as a village leader, but he still didn’t like being addressed as such. “Fetch me Jōnin Uchiha Sasuke and Uzumaki Naruto. Tell them it’s important.”

“Hai, Hokage-sama.”

Once the operative was gone, Kakakshi pulled out the middle drawer, grabbing a pristine sheet of paper. He had a letter to write… and better have it sent by the time the brothers arrived. He was sure it would be a shock to them, hearing his plan. And yet… if he had to have an escort for such a meeting, he’d trust none more than them. Their identities were a secret, and even the true scope of their powers (not even Kakashi had seen them display that power without the restraints, save for that one time under the influence of the Genjutsu). And yet, Kakashi felt safest in their company.

Who could challenge a god in human skin, other than another god? And it was not like they would meet Uchiha Madara... And as skilled as the other Kage were, none were gods. And Kakashi doubted the man would go as far as to bring any of the Jinchūriki, lest that send the wrong message.

With a tired huff, the silver-haired man started writing. Official letters were a pain to write, but politics were a necessary part of being shinobi. And this was a far more acceptable situation than involving the Daimyō, to avoid large-scale conflict. Besides, Kakashi was certain neither of the noble lords would be pleased hearing what the two Kage on their lands had been caught in. Even if Konoha — and Hi no Kuni — weren’t the one to initiate this potential mess.

He just finished penning the letter to the Tsuchikage, when the brothers arrived — Asura in a vortex of water and Indra, in a whirl of searing white flame. Both bowed, the gesture brief, but elegant. (The Elders might have called them out on skirting proprietary rules. Kakashi would never. They were what, after all? Non-human celestial beings? Or at least semi-celestial beings? Princes? … Actually… hadn’t they referred to their so-called grandmother as a Princess ? Would that make them nobility, too?)

“Hokage-sama.”

“Naruto. Sasuke. Thank you for coming so swiftly.”

Asura’s clear blue eyes found him, curiosity and concern swirling in those captivating, ancient eyes. “Something’s the matter?”

“I… plan on a diplomatic meeting with the Sandaime Tsuchikage. And if he accepts… I want the two of you to be my personal guards.”

Even the ever stoic Indra’s black eyes widened ever so slightly. Kakashi’s lips twitched in amusem*nt. So there were things with which he could surprise even them.

Three hours later | Senju Clan Training Grounds

Asura sat under the ancient oak tree, the thrumming of chakra and Natural Energy a welcome respite from the troubles of everyday life. Meditation helped keep his mind calm and focused even amidst this sudden madness.

Kakashi had told them about the not-quite-Kage Summit he planned to have with Ōnoki. Apparently, he’d already written to the man, as well as the General of Tetsu no Kuni, for the home of the samurai was exactly the ‘neutral ground’ they needed. Like… so many times over shinobi history.

Well, more like the Hokage had briefed them on the situation. So Asura had sent a Shadow Clone home to prepare some extra necessities for a trip to the Land of Iron, while he himself opted to prepare otherwise. Mentally.

Just... In case Indra got a... Tiny bit carried away. So meditation it was. And it was...

It had been going well too, until he felt the... familiar-foreign chakra signature, turbulent like a tornado. A powerful affinity for Wind. He shifted around in the direction of the signal, opening his eyes.

Blue met blue.

Minato swallowed awkwardly, just barely supressing the urge to fidget. When had his son became an individual that made him wary? “Hey s-Naruto. I apologize, I hope I didn't disturbed you.”

Naruto looked at him sharply through half-lidded eyes. “You did, but you won’t leave, unless I forced you, since you clearly went through the trouble of coming here.”

Minato winced, but tried to keep his cool. (It wasn't working so well. He felt as fidgety, as an Academy student on his first day, facing a strict teacher.)

“I’d... Just... Wanted to talk before you leave. I... Heard you’re going to be Kakashi’s escort. Uh... Congratulations on that, I think? It’s a big compliment to a shinobi, when their Kage chooses them part of a diplomatic escort.”

“Arigatōgozaimasu,” Naruto answered evenly.

Minato felt overly wrong-footed again. He could stare down Kage and Jinchūriki without flinching, massacre an entire platoon single-handedly... But he could barely have a civilised conversation with his own teenaged son, because Naruto made him uneasy?

What... Did that say about him, as a man and as a father?

“Anything else you want to add or did you just came here to congratulate me for my achievement?”

Asura stood up, feeling more confident that way. Outwardly, he was the epitome of calmness... But in fact, his heart was hammering anxiously. He was unsure why his father, no, why this man was so adamant to see him.

Minato chewed his lower lip, unable to contain his mounting anxiety. That was yet another thing he and his son were so different in. “I... Wanted to... Talk. About... What... Had happened. I am sorry. Should have... Paid more attention to Jiraiya. And the letters. Or... Lack of them.”

Asura raised an eyebrow, but simply hummed as the Yondaime talked meekly like some kid who just got caught for a prank. “I thought I was being straight to the point last time we talked. The Sage was in the wrong here, I don’t disagree, but you had more than one way to check on me. You didn't. And to this day, you justify this on...a prophecy? A prophecy that has who's credibility? The Toads?” He crossed his arms, his eyebrows tense and his glare solely focused on his father. “If the Toads said that tomorrow will rain, and it does, would you believe everything they say afterwards even if they make mistakes along the way?”

He wasn’t the only one to listen to the toad. Your father had made the same mistake once, to consequences just as perilous... If not more, a voice whispered in his head. And indeed. Wasn’t that the truth?

Minato opened his mouth and then closed it. “No of course not. But Prophecy isn’t predicting the weather, is it? And I assumed... You were fine. Konoha’s safe.”

“Prophecy isn’t predicting the weather, but war? So you take a conflict over a natural change?” Asura’s glare intensified, but after a moment, it softened considerably. “Yes, Kashi is a capable Kage, and he made sure to keep the village safe. But you assumed I was fine? Why? Because I decided to stay? Because I’m always with Sasuke? Because Kakashi and Tsunade were here? That’s it? I’m just supposed to be fine?”

Despite how aggressive his question sounded, if anything, he felt more saddened and hurt. His own father just assumed he was fine. He didn't think of checking, no, he is fine.

It seemed, ultimately, he had failed, just like Indra, if his own blood had such a mentality. Granted, Minato had never been raised as a Senju, but fundamentally, Hashirama’s Hi no Ishi was a... Modernised, somewhat crude version of Ninshū teachings.

Minato stood there... Whirling it around in his head and then grimaced when he realised just how it all sounded. “No,” he mouthed.

Asura unfolded his arms, as he took a step closer. As he did so, the former Hokage felt the foreboding chill wrapping around him, despite the warm, sunny day, so tipical of their homeland.

“No what? No to what I said about the prophecy? No that? No to what I said about being fine? No to what, Namikaze-san?”

“I should... Have checked with you... Instead of just... Listening to Jiraiya. And... Assuming,” he whispered.

Dread curled in his gut and invisible hoarfrost settled on his skin. If he hadn’t felt uncomfortable before, coming to talk to the redhead, he certianly did now. (It took Minato longer, than he would ever addmit to realise, that the feeling choking him was subtle Killing Intent, laced with all of Naruto’s sad, righteous fury.)

Asura felt his ire rise, threatening to boil over. Even Killing Intent had slipped his grip...

He took a deep breath to rein it all in, before he could shout the Yondaime to the next week. Tell the man how he had chosen her over him. (How could a parent even make such a choice?) Nay... How he chose a few hundred years old stone plaque over his son. How he chose the toads over his own blood.

But then, just a heartbeat later the fury was replaced by a single, more tranquile emotion. This man... Did not deserve to see how much all this was bothering him. Clearly, he had not considered his feelings over the years, either.

“I pity you,” he spoke, tone quiet and oh-so disapproving. “You are not even aware of the game you are in, of the pawn they turned you to. You let others dictate your actions. But when will you start to choose for yourself?” With that said, he simply walked away.

He could’ve left in a swirl of leaves or Shisui’s famous, traceless use of the Shunshin. But no. More than a shinobi, or a God as Kakashi and Shisui liked to mock them, he was a man. And as a man, he would stand his ground, and stand by his words.

Because he spoke nothing but the truth from his heart. And the truth was that Minato followed the wills of others. He was but a Suna puppet, moved by the silvery wire of others’ words and desires.

Indra sat in the ANBU HQ’s... lobby, for a lack of a better term, along with his brother. Both of them were waiting for the four operatives, whom Kakashi had chosen as his escort to Tetsu no Kuni.

Nestled on a faded blue chough, his sword in his lap, he was sharpening the trusty blade. His beloved otōto had his tessen open and he was... Writing seals on it?

“What are those seals for?” he asked curiously, syllables rumbling softly in the muffled, urgent cacophony of the Black Ops Headquarters.

Some operatives gave them curious, confused glances, but no one approached, to talk to them. Indra was a semi-regular visitor, getting tips and training from Shisui and Itachi... And their last active teammate. After all, Shisui, Kakashi and Itachi had all left ANBU for various reasons. But Asura was a rare sight in these circles, even if all the village knew, that they’d been inseparable for years.

“To contain the pollen from my Mahi Kafun jutsu. If possible, I’d rather not advertise my Mokuton. But the pollen is powerful and useful, wind just as effective in spreading it, as the original flowers.”

Indra gave his brother a surprised, but appreciative glance. “Talk about being creative, Sunshine.”

Asura flashed a happy grin at his brother, hearing the praise. Indra wasn’t one to praise anyone. Being scarce with words of acknowledgement was as much a remnant from the past, as much it was a sign of his recent disapproval towards his kin.

The Senju Heir turned towards his tessen again, fishing out two small glass bottles, filled with pinkish-yellow powder.

Indra raised an eyebrow. “Is... that the pollen?”

Asura hummed. “Of course. Not like I can grow the flowers here. Kashi... would kill me for the collateral damage. So... I’d extracted it from the flowers yesterday.”

“Neat.”

Asura activated the fresh storage seals painted on his fan, pouring the contents of the bottles into them. He was almost done, when four ANBU agents approached them.

Neko... Was one whom they recognised. Well at least, with the mask on. Her long, flowing purple tresses were rather distinctive. The two males behind her they hadn’t met before, although the chakra signatures made it clear one man was a descendant of Mitra. The third male, who was at the front — likely the squad captain — was a short, brown-haired male in the tiger mask... And his chakra carrying the distinctive feel of Mokuton.

Both tensed up, eyes narrowing on Tora, Indra’s Sharingan flaring crimson. Asura’s hand snapped out with the swiftness of a snake, as he grabbed his brother, wedging himself between Tora and Indra.

“Onī-sama,” he hissed, “don’t.”

Tugging Indra farther from the ANBU team, he looked at the agents. The quartet eyed them with suspicion and confusion radiating off their forms.

“Uchiha-san, Uzumaki-san, pleasure to meet you.”

They nodded back mutely as the older shinobi turned to leave the building. The brothers followed, barely making a sound (which kind of unnerved the ANBU even if they didn’t voice it). All the way to the Hokage residence, Asura kept a firm grip on his brother’s wrist.

Kakashi was already waiting for them, dressed in the long (ridiculous, if anyone bothered to ask Indra) white, ceremonial robes of a Kage.

“Hokage-sama,” they greeted together and Kakashi returned the gesture... His single visible eye trailed on the brothers.

“Something’s the matter, boys?”

Asura flashed his... Pseudo-brother a fleeting smile. “Iie, iie. Onī-sama is just a little... uneasy. It’ll pass,” he said, tone nonchalant, as his blue eyes cut to Tora.

Kakashi understood the situation rather swiftly, and he sighed. He’d forgotten the boys only had fleeting knowledge of Tenzō. He and Tsunade had mentioned the operative before, but he supposed, meeting him was different. And with how the Senju Clan faired today, it was understandable it unnerved them. Indra had mentioned, that Mokuton like all Kekkei Genkai, left an imprint on the user’s chakra signature. Even Kakashi had that feel to his chakra from the Sharingan, despite it being obvious that he wasn’t an Uchiha.

“Masks down, everyone. How about short introductions, before Sasuke tries to crisp someone?”

After a moment, the four shinobi removed their masks and Kakashi looked at the brothers. “We have... ten minutes before we have to set out, so I’ll be brief...”

Tsurumoto was the capital city of Tetsu no Kuni, nestled in the land’s very heart.

It had taken them several days to get from Konoha to Tsurumoto… and to be honest the place wasn’t Indra’s favourite. As hot and humid Hi no Kuni was, as cool was the home of the samurai. Passing the Sanrō mountains, freshly fallen snow had churned under their sandals…

Indra frowned, feeling the cold creep under his garments again and chakra rose to the surface as he huffed out a plume of pristine flame at his folded hands.

“You’re not going to freeze to death, will you, Uchiha-san?” Neko asked, with mirth colouring her syllables.

He frowned again, his Sharingan narrowing on the sole kunoichi of the group. The moment they passed Konoha’s gates, he’d activated his Dōjutsu and hadn’t allowed it to fade ever since. While keeping it active wasn’t chakra taxing in general, the ANBU expressed veiled concern for his capabilities, with his eyes constantly active. Kakashi and Asura remained overly quiet on the topic, knowing well he had enough chakra to fight and keep his eyes in use. While their Suppression Seals were still fully closed, it wouldn’t take more than a blink to loosen the bindings. Which would limit their access to their chakras and jutsu less. But unless one of the Iwa delegates tried something funny, they wouldn’t need that…

When they reached the ‘entrance’ of the city, a pair of samurai stopped theme, asking for identification, no matter how obvious their identities were. (Well, Kakashi’s at least.)

“This way,” the older samurai on the left asked, once their papers were returned. The man eyed the two young Jōnin with something akin to skepticism, but he did not say anything.

They were led through the city, the people — women in kimono, mostly, their hair pinned up intricately and some of them even having painted faces, — vendors, shopkeepers, weapon smiths or other samurai stopping to give them curious or distrustful glances.

With chakra sensory stretched to the fullest, the boys darted forward, looking for danger.

It did not take long to reach the General’s residence. Mifune was an old man, but despite that, he projected an image of strenght.

“Welcome, Hokage-dono. You and your shinobi are the first to arrive.”

Kakashi nodded respectfully. “General Mifune. Thank you for providing us a place to meet in a more... Neutral ground.”

“As much as we don’t cross blades with shinobi, and they leave us in peace as well... the Great Villages’ relationships effect the entirety of the Elemental Nations. And as skilled my samurai are, I would prefer not to seem another war.”

The Hatake grimaced under his mask. “War is something I would hope to avoid as well.”

The aged General eyed him sharply. “Young... but not hungry for glory.”

Kakashi snorted. “I was younger than some of us present,” he glanced at his Uzumaki-Uchiha guards, “when war swept across the Nations. I know well there’s no glory in it. Only deception and pain. And needless death.”

It was only the next day the two parties were set to meet. Much to Ōnoki’s displeasure, the Konoha delegation had arrived sooner.

Mifune made it clear no harm was to come to the Kage, and that the leaders may only bring two of their personal guard into the meeting. The rest of their parties were to wait at the provided lodgings.

So, Kakashi walked into the samurai General’s meeting room, flanked by Asura and Indra. The Mokuton-user on his right, while the Kenjutsu master was on his left.

Ōnoki stood behind a seat oppsite the door, a short, black-haired, slim kunoichi on one side with a faint serious, predatory aura, and an imposing man, with dark eyes and black hair that spiked out at the back from underneath his red, bandanna-styled forehead protector. He also had large cheeks, and a plump nose which gave him an overall look of constant joviality.

The huge man remained unruffled by their appearance, but the Tsuchikage and the kunoichi narrowed their eyes.

Kakashi nodded cordially, greeting both leaders, as he took his seat, the boys, silent as spectres, standing behind his seat. Mifune and Ōnoki returned the greeting, the latter a bit more gruffly, his dark eyes trailed on the two young Jōnin.

“Now… we came here to smooth differences on a neutral ground,” Mifune started, his aged gaze sliding between the two Kage. “But to be honest, I know very little of the two villages’ current standing.”

Kakashi folded his hands, his single eye darting to the samurai. “Iwa attacked an outpost first, which we’d deterred bloodlessly. They thought they could get away with it, given my sensei and former Yondaime wasn’t in the village, since my crowning as the Godaime. He and his wife had only recently returned. I could overlook that, even if they were trespassing our borders. However… not long after, they’d sent their two Jinchūriki, right into Konoha, for them to grab the Senju Heir from his bed,” he stated, making a small, but clear gesture at Naruto. “Except, luckily… if I can say such, Naruto had been outside the village gates and managed to deter the assailants with Sasuke’s help,” another gesture, this time to his left.

Ōnoki scowled as Mifune looked thoughtfully at the two young shinobi flanking the Hokage. “Not that it’s my business, but aren’t your guards a bit young? Not to say the Tsuchikage doesn’t have a young guard… but both of them…”

Kakashi shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re young, but skilled. I trust them with my life, as I believe is obvious.”

The Tsuchikage shook his head. “We’d done no such thing. I’d only sent the shinobi to gauge the boy, after I’d heard rumours of him possessing a Kekkei Genkai of my village.”

Kakashi hummed. “Something you only knew about, because you’d sent your shinobi to Outpost 21.”

“They were rogues, who acted on their own,” the Fence-Sitter insisted.

Kakashi felt his annoyance mounting, but before he could say anything, Indra spoke up, his syllables as scathing as his special flames. “Rogue shinobi don’t run back to their village of birth to prattle about the son of said village’s greatest nemesis. Or am I wrong?”

“If grandfather said it’s not been done by us, then it’s not been done by us!” the kunoichi spat back, glaring coldly at Indra. Kakashi glanced to the side… and watched as the Sharingan-user co*cked his head to the side, like a curious cat. ‘Except… he’s more like a tiger than a random cat. A big, scary tiger…’

“Oho, blindly trusting someone just because you share blood?” Indra asked. “So foolish. Shinobi are taught to look underneath the underneath, no? Or had you skipped classes in the Academy?”

“Why you…!”

“Enough!” Mifune thundered, his gaze cutting sharply to both Kage. “Discipline your guards, both of you. We’re adults, not squabbling children! Or am I wrong?”

Kakashi hummed, leaning back in his seat as he looked at the Uchiha. “Sasuke, please. I know you’ve better manners than that.”

“ Kurotsuchi ,” the older Kage called, glancing at the kunoichi.

Both younger shinobi inched backwards, ever so slightly, Kurotsuchi inclining her head towards her grandfather in apology. Mifune glanced at the two Kage, who were eyeing each other, like predators fighting for territory.

“Now…” Kakashi said, looking sharply at the Iwa group, “I think we’re owed an apology, Tsuchikage-sama.”

The older Kage’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve naught to apologise for.”

“Is that so? I’d like to remind you, we’ve Jinchūriki as well. Minato-sensei is back in Konoha and other skilled shinobi are amongst our ranks, too. Four of them are, at least in part, Uzumaki descendants,” he looked pointedly at Naruto again.

For a moment, tense silence descended the meeting room. No one could mistake Kakashi’s words for anything else, other than for what they were…

“Are you threatening us?” Kurotsuchi hissed.

“I’m stating mere facts,” Kakashi returned, unruffled by the Iwa trio’s mounting anxiety. “We do not want pointless bloodshed. I’ve no reason to start one. You provoked us, to soothe your bruised ego from the last war. If this gets out… tell me, Tsuchikage-sama, how that’ll make you and your village look, in the eyes of the world?”

Killing Intent rippled out from the aged Sandaime, and the boys moved closer. Indra’s hand slipped to his katana, eyes flaring into the Sharingan, as Asura pulled forth his tessen, ready to snap it open, blades out and all.The paralytic pollen shoved into the storage seals was as dangerous as the poison in which he’d dipped the hidden blades.

However, before it could get out of hand, Kakashi stopped the brothers. “Peace, boys. I appreciate the protectiveness, but I can also take care of myself.”

Ōnoki grit his teeth and raised his hand to stop his own guards from pouncing on the Konoha delegation. As much as he hated to admit, the young Hokage was right. Iwa was still feeling the effects of the last lost war… and to start another… He would have liked to pay Konoha back, but with the first village still having their Flash as well as somehow possessing Shōton…

“Am I just supposed to sit here, then, silently watching as you steal one of our villages most praised Kekkei Genkai?” he snarled.

The trio of Konoha shinobi hummed, sharing unsure glances. Asura furrowed his brows. “Kekkei Genkai? We are not Orochimaru, for the love of the Rikudō. If a Kekkei Genkai user of yours had disappeared, seemingly by the hands of Konoha, that was the snake’s fault,” he pointed out, crossing his arms.

“Says the one who possesses the Kekkei Genkai,” the plump Iwa man said, narrowing his eyes on the redhead.

The brothers shared a look, honestly confused.

“The Shōton, Namikaze,” the Tsuchikage scowled. “Or are you saying half my shinobi are liars and delusional madmen? They’d seen you using it.”

Asura looked at the Tsuchikage, befuddled for a moment, and then chuckled. “Ah… yes…You mean my Shōgei.”

He raised his right hand fisted, and they felt chakra rising as the redhead opened his fist and several colourful, needle-like crystals came into existence from the moisture in the air, hovering just above his palm.

Shōgei: Senbon ^[97]

The fine projectiles were sent sailing through the air with a flick of the wrist, embedding in the wall with soft thuds moments later.

The Iwa shinobi looked at the thin, glimmering needles buried in the wall and then looked at Asura. Back at the crystal needles… and slowly, dread settled on their features. Like they were seeing the Shinigami in human form.

Then, the Tsuchikage glared at them. “You stole it.”

Indra raised an eyebrow, his Sharingan glimmering sinisterly. His words were soft, like a cat’s fur, but painfully searing. “It’s not stealing, if all are born with the prerequisite to use it, but don’t have the knowledge to utilise it.”

Silence descended the room again, the Iwa shinobi now having a harder time keeping their skittishness under control. Kakashi wondered… if Indra was weaving something subtle with chakra… with Genjutsu, to make them all so uneasy.

“We’re trying to avoid war,” the Uchiha said softly, shrugging. “Bloodshed only births more bloodshed and life is more precious than to be thrown away at the whims of proud and hasty commanders, who sometimes don’t even take the time to remember their subordinates’ names. But if you attack us, we’ll defend ourselves. And I swear on the Sennin’s sacred name, if you dare even look Naruto’s way again, I’ll burn your village to cinders and you’ll wish you’d faced Uchiha Madara instead of me. He’d have been merciful, compared to what I have in store for the next Iwa idiot, who dares to threaten my brother or my village again.”

One could have heard crickets, if there were any in the room.

Then, Kakashi clapped his hands, smiling jovially, his visible eye forming an upside down U. “Now… that we’re past protective, brotherly threats… how about we sign that peace agreement? Would be a shame to upturn the beauty and tranquillity of the Elemental Nations, over hurt pride, don’t you agree?”

Something shifted in the air.

It was either the effect of the Hokage’s words or of Indra’s… it didn’t matter. But wary, reluctant acceptance settled on the Tsuchikage’s face, as if he’d finally realised that Konoha was filled with slumbering beasts and his safest bet was not to poke them any longer. The beasts were stirring after all… but unless he poked them further, they’d go back to sleep, instead of the roars shaking the Nations…

“Fine,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Peace it shall be.”

Fifteen minutes later, the village leaders’ signatures rested on the multiple copies of the peace treaty. And the heavy air seemed to be even more suffocating than before. Just because the signatures rested on the scrolls, neither party trusted the other, but they’d have been foolish to start anything with Mifune in the room and a land filled with samurai.

The ink would prevent blood from being spilled… but it would not magically restore trust… if there’d been any at all, to begin with. The beasts would slumber for a little longer, but the slightest nudge would fill the world with heaven-shaking roars.

OMAKE

The Shrine

Tsunade was humming an old lullaby her grandmother used to sing to her, clearing the little household shrine.

She’d never been one to believe in gods and spirits. The world of shinobi was way too cruel for her to believe in such, because what kami would allow the constant strife and bloodshed? And if they did indeed allow it, she didn’t think those kami were worthy of offerings and reverence.

And yet, here she was past her fiftieth birthday, tending to a household shrine. She… had built it while drunk on her sixth saké sometime after the boys had divulged their biggest secret to Kakashi. She couldn’t pinpoint when that had been exactly, except that the three of them had had a particularly challenging and eye-opening training session with the brothers. They’d landed in her home and drank… and the next time she woke, she was in the unused dojo of the Main Family, The Shrine taking up the farthest corner of the room.

All three of them had been drunk, herself the most, according to Kakashi. Kami knew how the Copy Ninja could hold his liquor so well, but he’d definitely been the most sober, because… Shisui hadn’t remembered helping her finish the shrine.

It had been a rudimentary thing at the time, but … well. Somehow, they couldn’t bring themselves to destroy it. Not when… their family members were… (could be?) kind of demigods, weren’t they?

So… The Shrine had stayed. In fact, its roughness had been smoothed over over days and weeks and now it really did look like a little shrine. Except it wasn’t dedicated to one of the ‘traditional’ spirits.

The low wooden table was pressed against the wall with a small red torii gate in the middle, with a circle of six magatama carved on a pale wood plaque, which was placed to be ‘under’ the torii. On the right side was the statue of a dragon, its serpentine body stretching forward calmly, the tail wrapped around one of the torii’s pillars, in its right paw, holding a miniature sun with thin rays.

On the left side, opposite the pale dragon was a dark tiger, maw opened in a snarl, crouched to attack, its tail curled around the other pillar of the torii. Its left paw raised and it held a small crescent between claws. The tiny gakuzuka had the moon-and-circle symbol of the Ōtsutsuki. On the torii’s hashira were a few small, but neat Kanji.

Despite the fact that she’d been drunk enough not to remember this happening… her hand hadn’t wavered when writing. All that medic and Fūinjutsu training had paid off. Even in such circ*mstances, her writing was near impeccable.

And in small containers were the offers placed. Mochi and tea, as always, small flames burning on the two sides, contained and controlled by simple seals, so they wouldn’t light the shrine and the house on fire. The flame next to the tiger statue was pure white (Shisui had lit that one), while the other was the usual orange-golden hue.

It… may have been done in a drunken haze… but well. It had a kind of style. And if she had to believe in anything divine… easiest to believe in what she could see and experience, right?

“Oba-san!” came the call, as she heard the door fall shut distantly. “Are you home?”

Tsunade hummed, pushing the little tiger statue a little further towards the torii, so it stood perfectly…

When the tatami slid open and the silence faded to oblivion. “Tsunade?”

The Senju Sannin turned, seeing Kakashi, Shisui and the brothers stepping into the dojo as well. Team 13 seemed weary, while Kakashi… looked like he was ready to declare war on paperwork and the Daimyō themselves, so he wouldn’t have to deal with the ‘greatest mortal evil’ ever again. (Maybe… just maybe, the paperwork was fraying the edges of Kakashi’s remaining sanity. Tsunade blamed the Elders and Minato.)

“What… in the name of Ryūjin is that?” Asura asked, eyeing the Shrine and pointing at it.

Indra’s Sharingan flared to life, narrowing suspiciously. “A shrine, from what I can see, Otōto..”

The redhead huffed. “I can see that , Indra.”

The boys looked back at it, matching scowls appearing on their face, as their eyes found all three of them. “It’s not what I think it is, is it?” Asura asked, his syllables laced by chilly calmness.

Tsunade pressed her lips into a thin line, as Kakashi shrugged nonchalantly. “Why, what do you think this is? We have already established its a shrine.”

“We’re rather… well-versed in symbolism, Hokage-sama,” Indra drawled, words sharp. “And our Clan’s symbol is rather hard to miss.”

Shisui flashed a mischievous smile. “Just a little…appreciation.”

Asura’s blue eyes narrowed on the Shunshin master. “We’re very much alive .” Shrines revering the dead weren’t too common these days, but some shinobi still kept memorials of the fallen particularly close to them. A remnant from the times when the Fire Temple had more influence in society and perhaps just a pinch more of Ninshū had been known.

“We know that,” Tsunade shrugged, as she stood up.

Indra crossed his arms. “And there’s nothing divine about us.”

Kakashi coughed. “I’d disagree,” they thought he said. The moment they looked at him, the Hokage clamped a hand on his masked mouth.

Asura huffed, eyes narrowing. “We are not gods, for the love of the Rikudō!”

Kakashi and Shisui just smiled, the Uchiha shrugging. “Sure you aren’t. You said there’s a bit of a human in you too… so just… half. After all, your father’s the God of Shinobi, isn’t he?”

The boys groaned. They’d… never wash that one off, will they?

“Besides…” Tsunade chimed in, “Didn’t you say the world’s been torn by war for so long? And what was it you said? Chakra is the silver thread and the willing, those who believe in peace, shall be the seamstresses, to bring unity? We believe in that as do you. But you know more.”

“Yes, but…”

“You know, it even… rings nice to the ears,” Kakashi grinned under his mask. “You who walk the Six Paths, grant me your advice and power, so I may have the strength to follow in your footsteps.”

“Loyalty and love are thy rewards, thy path lit by light even in the darkest night.” The boys’ eyes snapped to Kakashi, wide, once they realised their grave mistake. They had simply answered on instinct alone, like so long ago in the Fire Temple... None of them had spoken the words in the Old Tongue, so maybe it wouldn’t have an effect…

… but who were they kidding? The flames on the Shrine flickered and the chakra around them shifted .

In the realm of tranquillity, caught between life and death, the Rikudō Sennin smiled. His shakujō touched the mirror surface of the water and a fragment of his power washed over the five individuals in the Senju Compound. The world shivered at the ancient power… but only very few knew its meaning.