Chapter 183: The Negotiation Turns into a Pity Party — "Ninjas, Unite! The Shinobi World Belongs to Us!"
"Since the cause and effect of this incident are already clear,""Kirigakure must take responsibility."
"I have three demands for compensation," declared the First Tsuchikage. "First, Kirigakure must pay Iwagakure a total of 100 million ryō in reparations. The entire sum will go to the injured Iwagakure shinobi and the families of those who died in the conflict. Second, the culprits must be held fully accountable—especially that mustached Mist ninja. I have his portrait right here. And third, Kirigakure must publicly apologize in all major shinobi world media outlets."
The First Mizukage, who had only moments ago shown the slightest hint of yielding after being pressured by Uchiha Makoto, instantly found himself under attack again.
The First Tsuchikage wasted no time—he struck swiftly and cleanly, laying out his compensation terms right there in the hall.It was a veteran's move.
At first glance, his demands even sounded quite reasonable.
But Uchiha Makoto knew immediately—there was no way the First Mizukage would ever agree to these terms.
The compensation money? That was the easy part.While 100 million ryō was no small figure—and would make smaller factions wince—Kirigakure was still one of the Six Great Ninja Villages.They could afford it.
The real problem lay in the next two conditions.
That "mustached Mist ninja" the Tsuchikage referred to was none other than Hōzuki Gengetsu, the Second Mizukage-to-be."Hold the culprit accountable" was just a polite way of saying:"Hand over his head."
But Hōzuki Gengetsu was one of Kirigakure's greatest talents—a rising star whom the First Mizukage had personally pinned his hopes on.There was no universe in which he'd sacrifice Gengetsu just to please Iwagakure.
Yes, the First Mizukage was indeed an old man—at the age where most people would be sitting at home bouncing grandchildren on their knees.But not every old shinobi ends up like Hiruzen Sarutobi in his twilight years.
Hiruzen, in his youth, was brilliant—the finest of Tobirama's students,the one entrusted with Konoha's future at his teacher's death.But with age, he grew weak.Indecisive. Sentimental.A man who let things slide until they rotted.
Orochimaru?He pursued immortality through human experiments—on villagers, no less.Unforgivable.And yet, out of lingering sentiment, Hiruzen couldn't bring himself to act.He let him slip away.
And when it came to his old comrade, Danzō Shimura, Hiruzen's logic was even more twisted—a four-step cycle of denial:
"Danzō hasn't done anything wrong."
"Maybe he did, but it was for Konoha's sake. Let's wait and see."
"Perhaps action is needed, but the situation is already out of control—doing anything now could make it worse."
"Maybe I should've acted earlier… but it's too late now."
Time had turned the "ninja hero" into a "ninja bear."
But the man before them now—the First Mizukage—was not the type to crumble under time's weight.
He was a veteran who had clawed his way out of the blood-soaked Warring States Era,then, in his later years, built an entire village from scratch with his own two hands.
Age had not dulled his will.It had tempered it—forged it into steel.
And now the First Tsuchikage wanted him to hand over Hōzuki Gengetsu's head?Impossible.
The third demand—the public apology—was arguably even worse.
For the Great Ninja Villages, face was everything.You could lose some blood, sacrifice some men, even give up money—but the moment your face took damage,your entire village's prestige could crumble overnight.
"Ridiculous," the First Mizukage snapped."You can give up on that fantasy right now!"
"Those so-called pieces of 'evidence' you brought," he sneered,"prove nothing!At most, they show our ninjas fought yours—so what?Does that make it Kirigakure's fault?Ha! You're just trying to shift the blame onto us!"
"I was willing to make concessions—out of respect for Lord Light Shadow, and for the sake of peace in the shinobi world.But you dare to insult us with demands like these?"
As Uchiha Makoto expected,the First Mizukage immediately and furiously rejected all of Iwagakure's terms.
The First Tsuchikage slammed his hand on the table, glaring."So that's your answer, then? You have no intention of resolving this at all!"
"You call that Iwagakure's idea of diplomacy?"
"Oh yeah? Then what's your idea, Mist?"
"At most, we'll pay some medical expenses. That's all. The matter ends there."
"That's not possible!"
"Oh please—both sides took casualties!You lot just can't accept defeat.If your shinobi were weak, go home and train instead of embarrassing yourselves here!"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY—!"
And that was the spark.
Ninjas, after all, were not diplomats.They were fighters—men and women of instinct and pride.
The discussion devolved from formal negotiation into full-blown shouting.The two sides exchanged not reasoned arguments, but insults.
The Kage kept up some semblance of decorum—but their subordinates?They said everything their leaders couldn't.
Before long, it was just pure, meaningless venting—a storm of "your village stinks!" and "your mom's jutsu failed!"
Uchiha Makoto leaned back, quietly entertained.
"Wonderful. Simply wonderful," he thought."Their insults are almost… artistic."
He hadn't expected this issue to be settled peacefully anyway.If a war could be prevented just by talking,the shinobi world wouldn't have ended up the hellscape it became.
So Makoto simply sat back and enjoyed the show.As long as no one actually drew a weapon, he was content.
After all—none of these people were actually dumb enoughto cross an ocean just to start another war.
Meanwhile, Tobirama Senju was giving Makoto increasingly anxious looks.
"Hey," his eyes seemed to say, "you're just gonna watch them like this?"
Makoto shot him a glance. "What else should I do?"
"I'm worried they'll start fighting for real! Don't let it blow up!"
"Relax."
The two continued silently exchanging glances while the hall devolved into chaos.
Mist and Stone were now in a full shouting match,and the smaller villages were watching gleefully from the sidelines.
Then, at last, the First Tsuchikage turned to Makoto.
"Lord Light Shadow, please—judge this matter fairly!"
Ah, finally, Makoto thought.The man had remembered—he actually had an ally sitting beside him.
Makoto took a slow breath and said,"I think… it's about time for lunch."
The Tsuchikage blinked, confused.Makoto met his hopeful stare.Then nodded firmly.
Yes. It was time to eat.
As for "allies"?He'd deal with those privately later.
Tobirama instantly backed him up, catching Makoto's hint."Yes, yes, let's eat first!" he agreed."It's been a long morning—time for lunch!"
Makoto's declaration that they'd pause for food and resume discussions laterwas met with immediate enthusiasm from the other ninja factions.
After all, this quarrel had nothing to do with them—and now they were getting a free lunch from Akatsuki Village!
Who doesn't love a free meal?
Meanwhile, the two feuding villages…
First Tsuchikage: "So, we're eating first?"First Mizukage: "We should resolve this first!"
grumble…
First Mizukage: "…Fine. Let's eat."
And so, the kitchen of Akatsuki Village came alive.
To accommodate everyone's tastes—and shinobi appetites—they prepared a buffet.
Dozens of steaming dishes were laid out in endless rows.
Shinobi—famously ascetic by nature—were unaccustomed to such luxury.After a morning of shouting, the sight of that feastturned every one of them into a hungry beast.
The meal lasted more than two hours.
During that time, under Makoto's quiet instruction,the Takigakure representatives began mingling through the crowd—talking loudly about the benefits Akatsuki Village had brought them.
They spoke passionately about the fish-canning business.How it had saved their village's economy,and silenced those who'd wanted to destroy them after Konoha's assault.
They cursed the nobles of the Land of Waterfalls—greedy parasites who sucked the life out of hardworking shinobi.(Makoto had specifically told them to do this.)
And once they started venting,they couldn't stop.
Their frustration was real.They'd clashed repeatedly with the Waterfall nobles lately—because those nobles controlled the fishing industry behind the scenes.Many of them acted as proxies for the lords themselves.
Now, with Takigakure muscling in on their profits,and even killing some of their hired thugs,the nobles were furious.
Sure, losing a few disposable pawns wasn't the issue—the issue was money.
The nobles didn't want to destroy the canning trade—they wanted a cut.
And having been raised on the ideology of "ninja tools,"they genuinely believed they were being generous.
"We'll take half," they said. "A fair fifty-fifty split! We're being reasonable!"
They actually believed that.
Takigakure's response?Absolute outrage.
When they were poor and starving,they'd slaved as mercenaries and errand boys for these same nobles—barely scraping by.
When Konoha crushed them,those nobles hadn't lifted a finger to help—pretending it wasn't their problem.
Now that Takigakure had finally found a lifeline through Akatsuki,and their fortunes were starting to rise,the nobles wanted to swoop in and take half?
Not a chance.
No one gives up half their cow after finally buying one.
Of course, mixing old traditions with new money always gets messy.The Takigakure leaders grumbled but stayed pragmatic—they could live with giving up thirty percent in exchange for noble approval.
If handled well,that could actually expand their market even more.
But the resentment still burned.
Because at the end of the day—they knew it should've been all theirs.
Their ranting grew more and more impassioned—so much so that they even touched on long-taboo subjects.
The surrounding shinobi factions were shocked.But every word they said rang true.
Normally, no one would ever discuss such topics in public—but Makoto had quietly arranged for plenty of "drinks."
Not alcohol, technically—just low-alcohol malt juice.
To a shinobi's metabolism,it might as well have been water—but it still loosened their tongues.
And soon enough, the whole hall joined in.
After all—they were all ninjas.There were no outsiders here.
What harm was there in a little venting?
Every one of them carried frustrations in their hearts—they'd just never had a safe space to voice them.
In the shinobi world,ninjas were always the subordinates.The nobles were the employers.
A ninja's livelihood depended entirely on missions.
Fail the mission?Displease the client?Even succeed but get a "bad review"?You'd face immense social and professional pressure from your own village.
That's how the "ninja tool" ideology perpetuated itself—a perfect, cruel feedback loop.
The best example?Konoha's White Fang.
He took his own life after being condemnedfor choosing comrades over mission success.
A tragedy born not from failure—but from a broken system.
In the shinobi world,ninjas were supposed to be the strong.But compared to the nobles,they were the weak ones—the tools.
And now, thanks to a bit of "malt juice,"the truth came pouring out.
One complaint sparked another—and before long, the entire banquet had turned into a rallying cry:
"Why do we let the nobles treat us like tools?""We fight, we bleed, we die—and they just sit in mansions counting our pay!""It's time we stopped living like dogs!"
Uchiha Makoto watched quietly from his seat,a faint smile on his lips.
Exactly as planned.
(End of Chapter)