"Kyuushin, did you catch what Shikaku was getting at with that last bit?" Nawaki asked as they strolled back from the mess hall, the midday sun filtering through the camp's sparse canopy.
Kyuushin shook his head slowly. Ever since they'd parted ways with the Ino-Shika-Cho trio, Shikaku's cryptic closing line had looped in his mind, but its full implications slipped through his grasp like sand.
"Shikaku's got that knack for dropping hints without spilling the whole story—drives me up the wall," Nawaki grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head and kicking at a loose pebble. "How's anyone supposed to decode that?"
"But he doesn't strike me as the type to play games," Minato countered thoughtfully, his blue eyes thoughtful. "Probably weighing something heavy he can't just blurt out. Guy's sharp as a kunai—impresses me every time."
After wracking his brain fruitlessly, Kyuushin sighed with a wry chuckle. "In the end, it's all speculation on my part, and it might not even pan out. Even if it does, that's for Orochimaru-sensei and the others to tackle. They've got the experience and firepower we can only dream of."
Fate had other plans, though. Two or three days slipped by in tense routine before that morning's summons shattered the calm. Tsunade gathered the three in her tent, her expression all business as she fixed on Kyuushin. "Front-line dynamics shifted overnight. Orochimaru's called a strategy session, and he's insistent I bring you."
Kyuushin's stomach twisted. Being pulled into high command now screamed confirmation—his earlier hunches about Rain's maneuvers had hit the mark.
"You two sit this one out," Tsunade added, glancing at Minato and Nawaki as they hovered behind Kyuushin. "It's a briefing, not a field op—no need for extras."
Kyuushin gave them a reassuring nod. Minato fell in line without hesitation, while Nawaki paused, fists clenching briefly before he relented with a determined nod. "Got it. Stay sharp out there."
En route to the front, Tsunade broke the silence, her stride purposeful. "Orochimaru mentioned you pieced together the Rain shinobi's scheme ahead of everyone. Spot on?"
Kyuushin shrugged modestly, dodging a low branch. "Their moves felt off during that skirmish, so I tossed out a theory. Nothing solid—just connecting dots."
"But it's unfolding just like you predicted," Tsunade replied, halting to face him squarely, her gaze probing. "Over the last couple days, Rain's been probing our lines aggressively, only to bolt the instant steel meets steel. Yesterday, Orochimaru greenlit a push on one of their outposts—barely a fight before they scattered like leaves in a gale.
Now they've vacated their border hub entirely, pulling back deep. It's a blatant hook to reel us into their turf."
She recapped the escalating pattern succinctly, then pressed on. "Orochimaru's convening us to hash this out. If you've got fresh angles, don't hold back—speak up in there."
Kyuushin managed a tight smile, though inwardly he cringed. His foresight stemmed from meta-knowledge, reverse-engineering canon events with insider edges. He wasn't some prodigy like Shikaku, juggling grand strategies on the fly. Street smarts carried him through scraps, but this chessboard? The chasm between him and true tacticians yawned wide.
Tsunade, oblivious to his doubts, set a brisk pace. Outpost sentries recognized her on sight, waving them through with salutes—no hitches, shaving the trip to under twenty minutes.
She swept aside the tent flap, ushering Kyuushin into the command hub. Orochimaru and Jiraiya lounged at the central table, maps unfurled between them. Nearby sat Mokume Koutou and two unfamiliar faces—likely key players, given the gravity of the gathering.
Tsunade claimed her seat with authority. Kyuushin, reading the room, positioned himself at her shoulder, stance alert.
Mokume's eyes widened in recognition, a flicker of surprise crossing his weathered features. The other two mirrored it, brows arching, but with Orochimaru and Jiraiya silent, they held their tongues.
"Everyone's accounted for—let's cut the fluff," Orochimaru announced, scanning the group with his signature intensity. "Agenda's simple: We've seized Rain's forward bastion. Time to plot our next thrust."
The declaration hung, met by a beat of quiet before Mokume leaned forward, puzzled. "Straight into Rain territory, right? That's the playbook—push the envelope. What's the hitch?"
Kyuushin flicked a glance between Mokume and Orochimaru, clocking the omission. Orochimaru hadn't looped in the full team on the suspicions yet.
"Here's the lay of it..." Jiraiya jumped in, his gravelly voice filling the gap as he outlined the suspected lure—the feigned retreats, the environmental trap, Hanzo's long game.
Mokume's confusion morphed to dawning alarm. One of the strangers—a burly shinobi with a scarred jaw—rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So it's a deliberate pullback? But is this hunch backed by hard intel, or just reading tea leaves?"
Orochimaru's lip curled in a scoff. "You've all tangled with Rain squads these past days. Felt like they were truly committed? Or just going through motions?"
The scarred jonin clammed up, chastened. He'd spearheaded yesterday's outpost raid—token resistance at best, crumbling without a real stand. He'd chalked it up to shattered morale post-losses, a clean win. Now? It reeked of orchestration.
Mokume chimed in, nodding vigorously. "That explains it. They traded blows evenly before, but two days back? Folded like cheap paper. They were biding time for this curveball.
Lucky for us Orochimaru-sama and the others sniffed it out. A blind charge would've bitten us hard."
Orochimaru's scoff lingered, wordless. Tsunade cut in smoothly. "We clocked the irregularity—scheme or not, we adapt. Treat Rain like the viper they are; no complacency.
That's why we're here: Brainstorm counters to this pull tactic. Ideas?"
Silence blanketed the tent once more. Mokume and the two jonin furrowed brows, chewing on the dilemma.
Kyuushin knew the bind intimately. Konoha's objectives—attrit Rain without overcommitment—left few clean breaks from the snare. Push too hard, and Hanzo's jaws snapped shut.
Minutes dragged without breakthroughs. Orochimaru's patience snapped. "Uzumaki Kyuushin—your take?"
Heads whipped toward Kyuushin, Mokume and the others blinking in bewilderment. A genin at the war council? And now solicited by name?
Jiraiya caught the stares, chuckling. "The Rain theory? That sparked from Kyuushin first—nailed it before we connected dots. So yeah, overlook the youth; kid's got instincts. Even the Hokage's sung his praises."
"I know the buzz," the scarred jonin piped up, eyes lighting with realization. "Camp talk a few days back—red-haired prodigy dropping an S-rank bomb. Gotta be him. And Tsunade's prized student, too."
"Shinku Yuhi-jonin flatters," Tsunade deflected with a modest wave. "But he's earned it."
Shinku Yuhi? Kyuushin's mind raced—could that be Kurenai's father, the legendary genjutsu ace? He studied the speaker covertly, curiosity piqued.
Mokume gaped openly. He'd seen Kyuushin's composite jutsu in action under his command—impressive, sure—but an S-rank? The kid's ceiling kept rising.
"Enough side chatter," Orochimaru interjected sharply. "Kyuushin—lay it out. Your thoughts on breaking this."