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Kaien sat frozen, the pacifier jammed so hard into his mouth he thought it might split. His tiny hands trembled in his lap, nails digging crescents into his palms. He didn't dare speak.
Four thousand. That number beat in his head like a war drum. Four thousand dead.
It wasn't death itself that crushed him. He had known blood before. In his other life, Muay Thai fights had left him bruised, bones aching, nose broken more times than he could count. He'd watched men collapse unconscious, he'd seen blood splash mats, he'd smelled the copper sting of it all. He wasn't naïve to violence.
But those four thousand weren't faceless. They weren't nameless. They were Kumo shinobi...his people, even if he never saw their faces. And they were dead because of him.
His plan had been simple: let Iwa choke on their own logistics. The spy reports had been clear... or so he thought. He had gambled that patience would strangle Iwa's advance. Instead, they became more desperate.
Four thousand dead because he hadn't pushed harder. Because he hadn't told his grandfather and Uncle Bee to move when the first thousand fell at iwa front and now they made their way to 2nd base. He was pretty sure they were dead.
But... It was not my fault. If only we knew their jinchuuriki were also in battalion. It was fault of the kumo spies. They did not provide the correct information.
He gripped his mother's hand so tightly she almost winced. Aya didn't say anything. She just held him back, thumb brushing against his knuckles, her silence both a shield and a plea. She could feel his guilt radiating through every small, trembling muscle.
But Kaien didn't want her comfort. Not really. He wanted to disappear into it, to bury his shame so deep he'd never feel it again. His chest ached. His throat was locked. He wanted to be invisible, silent.
--
"KAIEN!"
The roar ripped through the office like a lightning strike. Kaien flinched so hard he almost fell from Aya's lap. His grip on Aya's hand became a desperate clutch, his pacifier biting deeper between his teeth.
The Raikage's glare bore down on him, hot and merciless.
"If you believed a war could be fought without loss," the Raikage growled, "then you have much to learn."
Kaien's lips trembled, but no words came.
"You think I do not rage for those men? That I don't feel every death as though it was my own blood? I do. But listen well, Kaien. A single failure does not end a war. If you let one mistake shatter you, then that—"pointing a finger at the boy "—is your weakness. if you thought they were just a few blocks of puzzle. Then, Let this mistake teach you they are not."
The Raikage's breath came heavy, chest heaving. But his eyes… his eyes softened. Not with mercy, but with truth.
"You won us victories... thought impossible. We crushed Konoha. We seized the chakra ore mines. We captured their jinchūriki. We killed their Hokage. You dealt a wound even the Yellow Flash could not ignore. These are not praise, Kaien. These are facts. One failure does not erase them."
Kaien blinked. His small fingers loosened, slipping from Aya's grip. His legs felt heavy as stone, but he slid from the chair and bowed low.
When he finally spoke, his voice was the fragile tone of a child, but steady.
"Now time is everything. With seven thousand shinobi and two jinchūriki, their supplies should have already burned. They'll push for one last attempt. But our uncle Ay base against Konoha will be caught between fire from the southwest and Iwa's advance from the northeast. We cannot gather shinobi fast enough to hold them."
He swallowed, clutching his pacifier again before continuing.
"We must send Grandfather and Uncle Bee. If they move now, they can halt Iwa before the line breaks. Tell Uncle Ay in Hot Water to hold his attack. Don't let him withdraw—it will raise Konoha's suspicion. Keep him ready as backup."
The words stumbled out in the lilt of a four-year-old, but the logic was sound.
The Raikage's glare eased. His cloak dimmed. He gave a single nod.
"Good," he rumbled. "You have learned. Renga—where is Bee?"
--
Renga opened his mouth, but Kaien spoke first, voice muffled around his pacifier.
"Uncle Bee is training the move I suggested."
Aya blinked at him, startled, but the Raikage just nodded once.
"Renga. Call him now. Urgency. And also ready those four."
Hours later, the office walls shook with a different kind of energy.
"Yo, bro, what's the plan, what's the show? Bee is here, don't you know—it's time to flow!"
Killer Bee swaggered in, rapping his nonsense, his swords rattling on his back. Even with the air heavy from looming war, his grin was wide, careless.
But when he heard the report, his rhythm slowed. His grin remained, but it was thinner, stretched over steel.
"Two jinchūriki… Iwa's pride, guess it's time for Bee to ride."
For all his quirks, Bee's eyes were sharp, and they gleamed with Calm. Resolve.
The Raikage stood. His lightning cloak surged to life again, brighter this time, but controlled. He looked at Bee, then at the kaien watching from Aya's arms.
"Let's move."
Bee cracked his knuckles. His body flickered, and the Eight-Tails' chakra flared around him in partial transformation, tail whipping behind him.
Renga knelt, hands already forming seals for the Heavenly Transportation Technique. Raikage and Bee appeared at his side, eyes sharp, body thrumming with anticipation.
And they are gone.
--
A/N: What is Bee training? Now with Iwa already at land of frost. They will become even desperate and make best use of the remaining shinobi as a last resort. Now, Kumo base at land of hot water will sandwiched between konoha on one side and Iwa on the other side.
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