"Aniki."
The atmosphere in the mountain-encircled Kumogakure had been heavy lately.
In that familiar hospital room, there was now another patient besides Killer Bee—his sworn brother, the Fourth Raikage, A.
At the moment, his brother's condition was even more worrying than before.
Losing an arm and a leg wasn't the worst of it. The damage to his soul made recovery nearly impossible. Even adapting to the sensation of it was excruciatingly difficult. His healing process was taking far longer than anyone had expected.
Killer Bee's condition had improved, but he was still weak, far from his former peak. At least he could move around freely now.
As for A, there was little to say. He lay in bed, resting, trying to get used to the feeling of missing limbs. His arm couldn't be reattached; he was destined to live as a one-armed man.
What truly troubled the medical-nin of Kumogakure was that even after setting the fractures in his leg, it still couldn't move.
Just like Orochimaru's sealed hands, it was as though it had completely lost sensation.
"How's it looking? Has any news come back yet?"
A struggled to sit up, his voice urgent. His injuries could wait—what mattered most was understanding the state of the ninja world.
Especially news from Konoha.
"Yeah."
Killer Bee nodded.
When Mabui had come to report earlier, A had still been resting. For someone who rarely let his guard down, even a bit of sleep was a blessing. Killer Bee understood that well and hadn't disturbed him.
"Who won? Konoha, or those people?"
A pressed him for an answer.
"Konoha's unharmed," Killer Bee said. "They barely lost anyone. It was the attackers who were completely wiped out."
So it was as he'd expected.
The Raikage sighed, both unsurprised and slightly regretful.
Unsurprised—because he knew that as long as that boy was there, Konoha wouldn't fall. Just like before, the ones who had invaded didn't understand how terrifying that "Konoha's Hakken" truly was.
Regretful—because of the harsh terms they had signed in previous negotiations with Konoha. Now, they would likely have to honor every humiliating condition one by one, such as the annual tribute of resources.
Yet despite the regret, A also felt an immense sense of relief.
Relief that he hadn't acted impulsively on that sealed letter left on his desk in Kumogakure.
It had been an invitation to attack Konoha.
Each Hidden Village was to send hundreds of elite shinobi for a coordinated strike, catching Konoha completely off guard.
The plan was laid out in detail: during the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki's childbirth, while the Hokage stood guard, they would provoke the Two-Tails into rampaging first, then break the Nine-Tails' seal from within to launch a simultaneous assault.
It was a meticulous strategy, and the Raikage admitted that if it had been executed properly, even Kumogakure might not have been able to withstand such an attack.
But what was most terrifying was this—
Kirigakure, Iwagakure, and Sunagakure had all agreed to take part.
It was just like the Third Shinobi World War all over again.
The spoils of victory had already been discussed: Konoha's assets and part of the Land of Fire's resources would be divided among them.
And the greatest prizes of all—the Two-Tails and the Nine-Tails.
Who wouldn't want to expand their power by seizing those tailed beasts, the ultimate weapons of war?
But they failed.
Neither the Two-Tails nor the Nine-Tails went berserk.
Konoha, the very same village that had once negotiated with them from a position of strength, proved once again through sheer action that it was still the foremost shinobi village in the world.
He could still faintly remember the words he'd heard before losing consciousness, as he was being carried out of Konoha.
"As long as I stand here, Konoha will remain the number one Hidden Village."
And that boy had kept his word.
"Have Mabui deliver that letter to Konoha, and tell them it's a gift for the Hokage."
After a long silence, the Raikage made his decision.
Getting beaten up early and missing this chaos had turned out to be a blessing in disguise for Kumogakure.
That letter wasn't just to declare their non-involvement—it was a statement of intent.
Taking a stance was important.
At the very least, it would make sure that brat didn't decide to stroll into the Land of Lightning and stir up trouble.
"Aniki, you've changed," Killer Bee said, scratching his head.
"Not changed," A replied. "Just finally understood something."
"For now, we, the shinobi of Kumogakure, need to keep our heads down."
He sighed and shook his head.
For the first time, the proud Kumogakure was bowing. But he had no other choice.
Killer Bee was still alive. He was still alive.
As long as they lived, Kumogakure could recover its strength in peace.
That was what mattered most now.
After his first encounter with that brat, A knew one thing for sure—he wasn't someone who stayed passive.
Retribution had only just begun.
…
Mitarashi compound.
Hakken's blade was planted in the ground. His arms were outstretched as the maid beside him neatly fastened the buttons of his martial arts uniform and hung the sake gourd at his waist before stepping aside.
At the courtyard gate, Itachi crouched silently, blocking the entrance.
The message was obvious.
"Sorry, Itachi. Next time."
He didn't want to hear that again.
It was just like last time, when he'd tried to follow Hakken into battle against the ANBU, only to be knocked out cold.
He never wanted to feel that helpless again.
"Idiot."
Shaking his head, Hakken slung his Zanpakutō over his shoulder and tugged at the long ear of the still-sleeping Kurama as he walked toward the gate.
This time was completely different.
Back then, knocking Itachi out had been to keep the Uchiha from clashing with Konoha.
But now, Konoha had changed. Completely.
"Come on. Follow me."
"From today onward, the entire ninja world will tremble before Konoha."
…
It was early morning.
The first rays of sunlight had just broken over the village, yet Konoha's atmosphere burned hotter than noon.
Before the Wall of Honor in the central plaza, more than two hundred black-clad figures stood in perfect formation.
At the front stood the most elite of the ANBU—the unit known and revered as the Night Owls.
Shisui Uchiha.
Kakashi Hatake.
Might Guy.
Itachi Uchiha.
And in the center stood the man with a sword on his back, a sake gourd at his waist, and a drowsy little fox perched on his shoulder—the swordsmanship prodigy hailed as Konoha's Kenpachi, Hakken Yoru.
Only the strongest of the strong could enter this squad.
Even the youngest among them, Itachi, had earned the deep respect of every member.
They all knew the grueling intensity of ANBU's special training. Despite his age—barely fifteen or sixteen—Itachi's performance was unparalleled.
His ninjutsu, genjutsu, and taijutsu were all absurdly powerful.
As for Might Guy, his inclusion had surprised some.
But anyone admitted into the Night Owls clearly had their own extraordinary skills.
"The slaughter begins."
Hakken murmured the words under his breath, his eyes drifting from the Wall of Honor to the distance beyond.
Though called a wall, what he was really looking at was his system panel.
The advanced mission to unlock his Zanpakutō's next stage—it was time to complete it.
Raising his blade skyward, Hakken drew a deep breath until his face reddened.
"The moment has come for your names to be remembered by future generations!"
"Before this blade—none stand undefeated!"
"Kill!"
"Damn—!"
Kurama jolted awake on his shoulder, sneezing so hard he nearly fell off. "What the hell are you yelling for this early in the morning?!"
The revenge plan had officially begun.