Kakuzu descended the stony path leading to the Fire Temple, carrying the limp body of Yugito Nii over his shoulder. He didn't say a word. Behind him, Hidan huffed, his scythe wrapped and slung across his back, more irritated than exhausted.
"You can't blame me! We weren't supposed to keep her alive this long...!"
Kakuzu didn't even turn around. His voice, sharp as the rocks beneath their feet, came out dry. "Of course you wouldn't know how to treat her injuries."
"Hey, you didn't know either! Lucky we found that doctor in that filthy village."
Kakuzu didn't respond. His silence was judgment enough.
The Fire Temple emerged through the forest mist, as majestic as ever. The architecture was flawless—its curved wooden roofs, paper lanterns unmoving despite the breeze, and stone corridors glistening with morning damp. And yet, Kakuzu felt it instantly.
Something was wrong.
Not in the structure, nor the visible details. It was in the air.
The eyes of the monks standing guard shimmered with a dull haze, devoid of will. They didn't look at him... they worshipped. Not him, but whatever stood beyond the threshold.
A monk in crimson robes, completely bald with a lifeless gaze, awaited them. He gave a shallow bow and spoke in a soulless tone: "Follow me."
Kakuzu said nothing, but his body grew taut. He could feel his hearts beating erratically. There was pressure in the air, a presence that stirred even his stitched insides.
They were led through the corridors to a chamber lit by blue candles. And there he was.
The Red Monk.
Unlike the depersonalized projection Kakuzu had seen before, this presence was corporeal... and terrifying. The Red Monk was cloaked in robes the color of old blood, adorned with symbols that defied interpretation, subtly shifting under the flickering light. His face was hidden beneath a jade mask cracked at the mouth, revealing thin lips that didn't smile... but spoke with a voice that made the stone vibrate.
"Welcome," he said. "I will study the ex-Jinchūriki. I will honor my promise..."
Two monks dragged a body into the room. Kakuzu didn't need to look twice.
Chiriku.
The former guardian of the temple. His body was intact, but unconscious or drugged. Useless for resistance.
"You may take his heart... and his head, when you leave. While you remain, you are my guests."
Kakuzu felt a mix of disgust and satisfaction. He didn't like this place. He didn't like this man. But a valuable heart and a generous bounty... those were things he never turned down.
And still, as he watched the monks muttering hollow praises, standing like statues before the Red Monk, he understood one thing with chilling clarity:
The most dangerous power in this room wasn't physical. It was the one that bent wills.
<<<< o >>>>
The afternoon light filtered through the windows of the Hokage's office, bathing scrolls and polished wooden columns in a warm amber glow. The air was thick—not because of the weather, but because of the weight of the words just spoken.
Standing before Tsunade was a monk from the Fire Temple—an elderly man, his face etched with years of contemplation and discipline. His robe was stained with ash, and his voice carried both solemnity and horror.
"Men in black cloaks adorned with red clouds... their headbands showed origins from Yugakure and Takigakure. They were the ones who attacked us. They were after Master Chiriku. He... fought bravely. Ordered us to evacuate. He took the battle away from the temple to protect us… but..."
Tsunade stopped him with a gentle gesture. Her face was firm, but her gaze held no anger—only deep sorrow. "I mourn your loss. Konoha will not stand idly by in the face of such atrocity."
The monk nodded slowly, and after one final bow, walked out through the corridor.
The moment the door shut, silence fell like a heavy curtain. Tsunade closed her eyes, and her thoughts drifted to earlier that day…
< o >
It had been in the same room. Standing before her were three ninja from Kumogakure: a man of severe and elegant bearing, a woman with sharp eyes, and a young man whose expression held tightly reined fire. Rugen, Kasumi, and Daizen.
It was Rugen who stepped forward. His words were measured, but brimming with emotion.
"Hokage-sama, we are here to request urgent assistance. Jōnin Yugito Nii of our village was attacked by members of Akatsuki. We tracked her into the Land of Fire. We know she's still alive... still in their hands."
From his neck hung a cord with a metal ring, which he clutched tightly, as though his soul depended on it.
"We don't come for political alliance. We come because we fought together in Yumegakure. And because I know you wouldn't turn your back on a plea like this."
Tsunade had taken a long moment before replying. Her face solemn, her fingers interlaced atop her desk.
"You must understand, Rugen... what you ask is not simple. Every member of Akatsuki is a person of extraordinary ability."
Young Daizen looked ready to protest, but Rugen stopped him with a subtle motion. His eyes never left Tsunade.
"You must understand... that my heart will not rest until she is back in my arms."
Those words pierced through the protocol and hardened experience Tsunade had built over the years. She had seen that look before. In the mirror. When she thought of Dan.
She sighed. She knew what she should say. But also what she couldn't ignore.
"This is a grave situation. I'll need time to consider it. Remain in the village until I give you my verdict."
< o >
The memory faded with the rustling of the curtains in the wind. Tsunade rose slowly. Her eyes were firm. Resolute. They carried the sorrow of the present and the weight of duty.
"Shizune," she said with a grave tone.
Her assistant, ever attentive, entered quickly. "Yes, Tsunade-sama?"
"Gather all available jōnin and chūnin. And bring the Kumo representatives waiting downstairs. Konoha's answer... begins now."
<<<< o >>>>
The wind blew fiercely across the hidden training fields behind the mountains of Konoha. Kakashi Hatake observed in silence. His only visible eye followed the frenzied movements of Naruto Uzumaki and his countless clones, scattered across the area like a living storm.
Some clones trained in circles, forming miniature tornadoes with their channeled wind chakra. Others clashed in brutal taijutsu matches, kunai in hand, surrounded by swirling gusts that made them nearly invisible at times. Each strike, each impact, unleashed a blast of air that made the nearby leaves tremble. A few continued working on refining the Rasen Shuriken.
Kakashi exhaled quietly. "He's different."
Since Hinata Gin's brief visit, something had changed in Naruto. He didn't just train harder—that was expected. No, the real surprise was how each night seemed to awaken him more skilled than the day before.
"As if his mind understands something his body is still trying to catch up with."
Kakashi had trained and observed many prodigies, but this... this was new. Naruto's mastery over wind had made a massive leap. And it wasn't just chakra. It was breath.
"He's using breathing techniques from the Land of Iron."
Kakashi had noticed it in his exhalation rhythm, in his combat stance, in the way he concentrated chakra before molding it. It wasn't coincidence. It was clear Hinata had given him more than just a breathing technique… it was clear his boost in skill after every night's sleep meant he was remembering what happened in Yumegakure.
"Hinata... you never cease to amaze me."
Samurai breathing techniques were meant to strengthen the body, increase reflexes, and sharpen precision in kenjutsu. But Naruto, with his immense chakra reserves, was using them to enhance his elemental transformations—something Kakashi was sure Hinata had predicted. It was madness… brilliant madness.
And the rasengan…
Kakashi had seen it. Naruto was pushing it further. What was once a compact technique of pure rotation now spun with a slicing vortex, a spiraling blade of wind.
"If he pulls this off… it'll be more than just a new jutsu. It'll be a statement."
A shinobi appeared running up the slope, stopping beside Tenzo. Kakashi moved closer, sensing urgency.
The ninja bowed his head. "The Hokage is calling us. All of us. Including Naruto. Seems Akatsuki is making a move."
Kakashi didn't answer immediately. He watched Naruto for a few seconds longer. The boy was laughing as one of his clones exploded in comic fashion after a miscalculation.
And still, within that laughter, there was resolve.
"Then the time has come," he murmured. "It's time to see if that wind... can change the world."