And so—with Clan Head Hyūga feeling thoroughly miffed—the first Norman Conquest war council wrapped up smoothly.
Next came the Konoha expedition: the shinobi army set sail for the Land of Water.
Because they're shinobi, white-clad night crossings are standard operating procedure. Shinobi aren't samurai; they don't fuss about "face." The great ninja wars never had much decorum anyway.
Besides, Kiri isn't some in-law ally of Konoha, so there's zero burden of propriety.
If earlier Konoha worried about leaks while boarding ships, the expansion of Konoha Transport Co. solved that, too.
Konoha shinobi don't just drive big rigs—they captain big ships. No outside charters, more convenient, more discreet.
Seeing that, people stared at Uchiha Yorin with even greater astonishment.
Had he expected this day and pre-built a shipping empire?
Was this part of his plan, too?
Uchiha Yorin—terrifying—counting heaven, earth, and the hearts of men.
What on this earth can still stop him?
Yorin felt they were over-romanticizing him a bit.
Not entirely, though.
He had built the logistics network with wartime utility in mind.
If not Kiri, then one of the other three villages.
Kiri was simply the first to stumble into it.
…
Thus, in Year 51 of Konoha: the Nine-Tails Night became the Three-Tails Night. The once-inevitable Konoha–Kumo war became a Konoha–Kiri war. The Uchiha who once bore suspicion and exile now led the Norman Conquest.
By Uchiha Yorin's hand, history was changed—permanently.
The rank-and-file on deck—either jittery or fired up—would never know what they escaped without Yorin:
The Fourth's death. The Nine-Tails' rampage and mourning. Uchiha despair and betrayal. Konoha's war with Kumo. The Hyūga kidnapping incident…
Not anymore.
This world is now different.
Because Uchiha Yorin dared fate—and won—the shinobi world hurtled toward a different, more chaotic, more unknowable future.
Holding that thought, Yorin stood on the swaying deck, watching the sea ahead, heart full.
Konoha Logistics has deep pockets—the fleet are the latest lightning-powered ships. Modern alternative energy.
That's a "secret art" of the Land of Lightning; at first their yards told Konoha to get lost. But—well—money talks.
…
"If one day we can get Kumo's chakra cannons, even better," he mused. "Those guys' tech really is something. That's 'political outreach,' I suppose; in fiction I always liked the genius black scientist trope."
"Good thing we also have Mecha Naruto and Mecha Nine-Tails level nonsense… Wonder how Orochimaru's Edo Tensei research is going. I still need him and the Second do some work."
"You look happy."
While Yorin pondered the shinobi world's tech and Earth's political correctness, Tsunade's voice came from behind.
As the fleet neared the Land of Water's coast, her unease spiked; she wanted to say something—anything—to him.
She searched the cabins, found he wasn't there, then hurried to the bow—there he stood, back to her, facing the sea.
Only then did she exhale, and say, "You look happy."
Seeing his back eased her anxiety; what replaced it was calm—and some indefinable feeling.
Like a girl in love looking at her flirtatious, great—if exasperating—boyfriend: love, complaint, and longing.
Yorin didn't turn; he kept facing the sea. "I challenged fate," he said.
"And I won."
He raised his right hand, opened it, then closed it—like seizing fate in his palm.
She didn't know the details, but his deeds these past weeks fit "challenging fate."
So Tsunade stepped beside him, hands on the rail. "Then we keep winning," she said, "don't we?"
"Of course," Yorin replied, utterly confident.
"We'll keep winning—Tsunade." He said her name; she turned. Sea wind lifted her golden hair; in the sunset she looked even more beautiful than usual.
Maybe it was the outfit—no vest and cropped pants today. In a lovely evening dress, a fur over her shoulders against the wind, she looked every bit a princess.
Yorin felt it—he wanted to paint her. First, though, he took her hand. "Have you seen Titanic?"
"Titanic?"
She stared, puzzled, as if to say, What nonsense is he spouting now?
Just then he slipped an arm around her strong, narrow waist, lifted her from behind. "Do you feel like you're flying?"
"Idiot—what are you doing?"
She flushed, startled by his sneak attack. But with her Kage-level strength, if she truly didn't want it, he'd never get away with it.
He knew that—no need to say it. It was their small, quiet understanding.
Held aloft, feeling the air whipped up by the fleet's advance, Tsunade did feel it—like she might fly.
She closed her eyes, soaking up this man's warmth and fervor—and once again confirmed:
Though his head seems broken; though he's faithless and greedy for power and always makes her mad—she had fallen helplessly in love with him.
Wrapped in that helpless, sweet, sour feeling, the fleet cut for the Land of Water's coast.
The rain-wrapped, fog-shrouded islands lay just ahead.
Uchiha Yorin: "Good. Begin the operation."