Thunder rolled low in the distance as heavy clouds gathered above Konoha. The summit chamber was silent but tense, lined with banners bearing the emblems of both Konoha and Kumogakure.
Hashirama sat at the head of the table, calm as ever, his hands folded. To his left, Madara Uchiha leaned slightly forward, his expression unreadable but eyes razor-sharp. Akari stood at the edge of the chamber, quiet, watching everything—like a shadow stitched into the fabric of the room.
The delegation from Kumo had arrived two days ago—ostensibly for trade discussions. But everyone knew this meeting was more than that. Rumors of alliances forming between smaller clans in the Lightning Country had made it clear: a fracture was coming.
The Kumo envoy, Lord Takeyama, spoke first. "We do not seek conflict, Lord First. But we cannot pretend that your recent movements haven't concerned our Daimyō. Small nations fall under your banner one by one."
Hashirama smiled, warm but not naive. "We do not conquer. We offer stability. Unity. We want a world where children do not grow up with kunai in their hands."
Takeyama raised an eyebrow. "And yet, Madara Uchiha leads your armed forces."
Madara met the man's gaze without flinching. "Because I know how to prevent war. Not provoke it."
Silence.
Suddenly, Akari's head tilted, barely perceptible. His violet eyes sharpened.
There—chakra. A subtle fluctuation, laced into the wood beams above the ceiling. Someone was hiding.
He moved without a word. A flash of movement, the hiss of a drawn blade—and then he was gone from the chamber.
Above, in the rafters, a masked figure was already retreating. Akari intercepted him mid-air, their bodies colliding in a burst of chakra. They landed hard on a rooftop outside the hall, rain starting to patter against the tiles.
"You're early," Akari said calmly.
The masked ninja didn't answer, only slashed at him. Their blades clashed, then again—fast, sharp, brutal. But Akari was faster. His hand blurred with a lightning seal, and a burst of light cracked the air.
The intruder dropped, stunned.
Back in the summit room, Madara had already risen, his eyes glowing faintly.
"Handled," Akari's voice came over the comm-line.
Madara sat again, a faint curve of approval at the corner of his mouth.
Hashirama turned to the Kumo envoy. "You were saying?"
Takeyama hesitated—then gave a short nod. "We will consider your proposal. But we request a... neutral observer during the integration phase."
"Akari," Hashirama said without pause. "He will represent us."
"Agreed," Takeyama said, almost reluctantly.
Outside, Akari stood over the unconscious saboteur, rain soaking into his robe. His eyes turned to the horizon, where distant thunder still echoed.
Not every enemy carried a sword. Some wore masks. Others wore smiles.
But as long as he walked between them, Konoha would endure.