Capítulo 39: Chapter Thirty-Nine: Minato V
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October 6th, Year 72, Hokage Building, Konohagakure
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"Iwa has attacked and declared war on Kumo. Kiri is mobilizing their ninjas there as well. Suna is amassing supplies on their eastern border. This is madness!" Sensei slammed his hand against the window frame, his frustration palpable. I couldn't blame him—this chaos defied reason.
What the hell is going on? I stared at the reports and the map spread before me, every line and marker painting a picture of escalating insanity.
Kumo was in disarray. Iwa wasn't known for attacking so recklessly, and Kiri had no reason to push their ninjas so aggressively. None of it made sense.
The wars of the past had at least been grounded in disputes over resources or territory, but this… this felt directionless, like a storm tearing through without rhyme or reason.
"What's the point of Kiri entering this conflict?" I asked, breaking the silence. "I thought the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura, was trying to rebuild his village, wasn't he?"
Sensei turned to me, his face grim. "Something has changed with Yagura. He's become… unfeeling and cruel. Last year, he introduced what people are calling the 'Bloody Mist Policy.'"
The words sent a chill down my spine. "Bloody Mist? Why haven't we heard about this before?"
"They found and eliminated most of our spies," Sensei replied, his tone heavy. "Tortured them to death. I only uncovered this after chasing rumors myself. Kiri has been putting immense pressure on their bloodline clans. Yagura seems to think bloodlines are a curse—and that they need to be eradicated."
"What?!" Tsunade-sama, seated nearby, slammed her hands on the table. Disgust and anger contorted her face, and the other clan leaders shared similar expressions.
Sensei let out a weary sigh. "It's as morbid as it sounds. But something has shifted again in the past three months."
"What shifted?" I asked, my unease deepening.
"According to my sources, Yagura has suddenly changed course. Now, he's fixated on destroying Kumo. He's deploying the majority of his forces to that task, leaving the village almost defenseless. Even their border patrols have disappeared. It's as if…"
"It's as if they're inviting Konoha to attack them," a lazy voice drawled from the corner. Kuro leaned back, his posture as casual as his tone, though his sharp gaze betrayed the depth of his thoughts. "Not a bad strategy for that masked freak that is. It's quite obvious what he is trying to do… amateur."
All eyes turned to him, brows raised in unison.
"What?" Kuro asked, feigning innocence.
Shikaku cleared his throat, stepping in to clarify before Kuro could dig himself deeper. "We've already identified the masked criminal as the catalyst for much of what's happening. Based on Kuro's analysis, this individual doesn't care about any one nation in particular. He doesn't hate anyone specifically—his goal seems to be pushing all the great nations into chaos. His ultimate aim is unclear, but one thing is certain: he wants us all to suffer."
"!!!" The room bristled with tension, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
I clenched my fists, exhaling a frustrated sigh. "Attacking Kiri doesn't seem like the right move… but I have a feeling we'll be dragged into it regardless."
Kuro groaned, rubbing his temples. "Way to go, Hokage-sama. You've jinxed it." He stood abruptly, his long hair falling into his face as he pushed his bangs back with an annoyed swipe.
"You should tie it back like the rest of us," Shikaku said dryly, folding his arms.
Kuro shot back immediately. "And look like a pineapple? No thanks, Pops." He waved off the suggestion and stepped closer to the map, his movements as exaggerated as his tone. "Anyway, I know you're all dying to solve this mess, and I'm dying to get back to my nap, so here's what we're going to do!"
He gestured grandly toward the map, his showmanship drawing more confusion than clarity.
Only Sensei, Shikaku, and I caught the subtle meaning behind his actions.
The silence stretched as Kuro casually leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced behind his head. His eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on each person. Finally, Jiraiya-sensei broke the silence, his voice stern and biting.
"Kuro, you can't be serious about this. We're not conquerors. We're not warmongers!"
His words hung heavy in the air, and I felt a pang of discomfort myself. This wasn't the Konoha way. This wasn't the will of fire…
But Kuro, unfazed, raised a single brow at Sensei, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Warmongers? Really, Pervy Sage? Did you even listen to what I said? I'm talking about uniting the elemental nations, not tearing them apart."
"THAT'S THE SAME THING AS WARMONGERING, YOU RASCAL!" Jiraiya's voice boomed through the room, and for a moment, even Tsunade-sama winced.
But Kuro didn't flinch. Instead, his smirk faded, and he locked eyes with Jiraiya. The tension between them was palpable, the kind of thing that could make lesser shinobi buckle. After a long moment, Kuro sighed, his tone softening.
"You're all thinking like ninjas. That's your first mistake. You assume that unification can only happen through bloodshed. But let me show you another way. A smarter way."
The room grew still. Even Shikaku, who had been idly scratching his chin, now looked at Kuro with genuine interest.
Kuro stood, his posture casual yet commanding. He gestured at the map spread across the table, the borders of the elemental nations clear and defined.
"Let's start with the basics," he said, pointing to Kumo. "The Land of Lightning is already falling apart. No Raikage, no high-level leadership. They're scrambling, fighting on multiple fronts, and trying to hold together an interim government. And let's not forget—they've lost their strongest assets. Raikage A is dead. Killer B is in our custody. Yugito? Well, she's dead too, by my own blade. The strongest they've got now is Darui, and he's barely at the level of an elite Jonin right now."
He turned to Jiraiya, a sharp glint in his eye. "Why fight them when they're already crumbling? We send aid—food, medicine, resources. But not out of charity. We make them dependent on us. We 'help' them rebuild, and in the process, we weave their economy into ours. We plant advisors in their ranks, ensuring their decisions align with our interests. Before they realize it, they'll be tied to us by necessity, not force."
Jiraiya didn't respond immediately, but his lips pressed into a thin line.
Kuro's hand shifted to Kiri. "Then there's the Land of Water. Their Mizukage is compromised, most likely by that masked freak. We don't storm in with accusations; we expose the truth. Once the village sees they've been betrayed, we step in as allies, helping them root out the problem. It's diplomacy with teeth—earn their trust, gain their loyalty, and secure their position as an ally under our guidance."
His finger moved again, this time to Iwa. "And then there's the opportunists. Iwa thinks they can pick up the pieces while the rest of us are busy. But they always overreach. We leak just enough information to ensure they overcommit in a war they can't sustain. When they falter, we offer them a choice: ally with us and share in prosperity, or stand alone and suffer isolation. Knowing Onoki, he'll choose the former. Pragmatism always wins out."
Finally, his gaze settled on Suna. "And Suna… Well, they're already in our pocket. Strengthen the alliance. Provide aid. Integrate their shinobi into our operations. Make them so reliant on us that their autonomy is a technicality."
Kuro stepped back, his arms crossed as his eyes roamed the room. "But this isn't just about the villages. The real issue is the food crisis. War disrupts trade, and when people are hungry, desperation sets in. If we don't act, we'll see refugees flooding into Konoha, straining our resources, and driving crime through the roof.
"So, what do we do? We scale up our agricultural production. Invest in irrigation systems, large-scale farming, and secure storage. We protect trade routes with our ninja to ensure food keeps flowing. And we use our surplus to control negotiations. Hungry nations don't argue with the ones feeding them."
Shikaku nodded, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "It's not a bad plan. Use food as leverage instead of weapons."
Kuro's tone grew sharper, and the room seemed to darken as he continued. "But there's one more piece to this puzzle: the Daimyos. They're parasites, clinging to power without contributing anything of value. But we don't need to overthrow them outright. We undermine them.
"Control the ninja villages, and you cut off their military power. Control trade, and you choke their economy. The people will see who's really protecting them and providing for them—it won't be the Daimyos. Soon, they'll be nothing more than figureheads, irrelevant in the grand scheme."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over everyone.
Jiraiya broke the silence, his voice softer this time. "Kuro… You're talking… blasphemy! You are talking about changing the whole system."
Kuro smiled, a genuine, almost boyish smile. "No, Sensei. I'm talking about fixing it. Peace isn't a gift—it's something we have to build. And if we don't do it, who will?"
For a moment, the room was still. Then, slowly, heads began to nod.
Even Jiraiya's shoulders relaxed as he sighed deeply. "You really are something else, kid… But I still don't like it… It feels like we are betraying something… and the Money… where will we get the funds from if we undermine the Daimyo?."
Kuro's smile didn't waver. If anything, it deepened, as if Jiraiya's question was the exact opening he'd been waiting for. He turned his back to the group and moved to the window, gazing out at the village below. The faint hum of the marketplace, the laughter of children, and the distant clanging of blacksmiths filled the air.
He spoke, his voice calm yet unyielding, carrying a conviction that drew everyone's focus back to him.
"We've been too dependent on the Daimyo for too long. But they're not the only source of wealth, pervy-sage." He gestured toward the village. "The answer lies right here in our hands—innovation, industry, and self-reliance. We've got some of the most brilliant minds in the world under this roof. Why rely on outdated feudal systems when we can build something better?"
Shikaku leaned forward, his sharp mind already working through the possibilities. "You're talking about diversifying our economy."
Kuro turned, nodding. "Exactly. Trade, technology, and collaboration between villages. The Land of Fire is rich in resources—fertile land, skilled labor, and strategic trade routes. If we invest in developing those, we'll be generating wealth independent of the Daimyo. We control the flow of goods, the innovations of our researchers, and the stability of the region."
Tsunade raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident on her face. "You're putting a lot of faith in other villages cooperating with us. What happens when they turn on us, like they always do?"
Kuro's expression darkened, a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze. "That's the beauty of the plan. They won't have the option to turn on us. By the time they realize how intertwined they've become, it'll be too late. Economically, militarily, diplomatically—they'll rely on us. And for those who try to resist…"
He let the implication hang in the air, his meaning clear.
Tsunade sighed, rubbing her temples. "It's risky. You're playing a dangerous game, gaki. One misstep, and we could plunge the entire continent into chaos."
"Chaos is already here, Granny Tsunade," Kuro replied, his voice steady, almost nonchalant. "I'm just trying to ensure we come out of it stronger. We either evolve or get left behind."
I sighed, drawing all eyes to me. As much as I wanted to weigh every option carefully, we didn't have the luxury of time. The weight of the decision pressed down on my shoulders. After all, I was the Hokage—the final choice was mine.
"How sure are you of your plan?" I asked, turning to Kuro.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression dripping with condescension. That silent confidence of his grated on me, but I should have known better than to expect a straight answer from him.
Instead, I shifted my gaze to Shikaku. His disapproving glare toward Kuro didn't go unnoticed, but after a moment, he gave me a small nod. That simple gesture carried all the reassurance I needed. If Shikaku trusted Kuro's plan, then it wasn't just wild ambition—it was a calculated risk.
I let out another sigh, this one heavier than the last.
"Well… it's now or never."
I straightened my posture, letting my voice ring out with authority. "Everyone! It's time to prepare. We didn't start this war, but we will end it. Shikaku, Kuro—you'll work with me and the council to draw up a proper plan of action. We'll begin implementation immediately."
I turned to the clan heads, meeting each of their eyes. Their silent nods of approval were like a steadying hand on my shoulder, soothing the storm of doubt in my heart. They believed in this plan, in this vision for a better future.
Taking a deep breath, I raised my voice with renewed determination. "For the future!"
The response came back in a resounding chorus, unified and unwavering.
"For the future!!"
…
…
After everyone else had left, only the council and Kuro remained in the room. I glanced down at the reports, letting out another weary sigh. Another war… like Kuro always says…
"The season never ending..."
When would we ever see peace? Jiraiya-sensei always said that when the Promised Child arrived, everything would change. Things would finally be resolved. But where was he?
I stole a glance at Kuro, shaking my head at the thought that crossed my mind.
If Kuro were the Promised Child… Sage protect us all. Hahahaha.
"Oi, Uncle Minato… were you cursing me in your thoughts?" Kuro's voice cut through my musings, bored and mildly annoyed.
Oops. Did I say that out loud?
"You definitely were thinking something rude," he added, narrowing his eyes at me. "You're too easy to read. Anyway, can I go now? Please?" He sighed heavily, his tone somewhere between pleading and exasperation.
Shikaku pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly used to his son's antics. I, however, couldn't help but chuckle, looking at Kuro with fondness.
"No, you cannot," I said with a smile. "You're going to help us finish this plan, and then you're coming with me to my house. Your aunt Kushina is cooking a feast tonight. You and your family are, of course, invited."
Kuro groaned, muttering under his breath, "What a drag… but fine. I haven't had Aunt Kushina's cooking in a while…" His voice softened toward the end, and I caught a faint smile tugging at his lips.
What a tsundere.
"Oi, you're thinking something rude again, aren't you?" he accused, his sharp eyes narrowing at me.
This time, I only laughed.
With war looming on the horizon, moments like these felt precious—small comforts in the face of uncertainty. I didn't know how long they would last, but I intended to treasure them.
My gaze drifted to the picture frame on my desk, the one taken three years ago. In the photo, Kushina and I stood on the right, her hand playfully ruffling Kuro's hair. Shikamaru and Naruto held Kuro's hands on either side, their faces lit up with pure joy. They all looked so happy… so at peace.
I want that to last.
I couldn't help but worry about Naruto, though. I just hoped he could grow up a little more before being thrust into the cruelty of this world.
My thoughts were interrupted as Kuro spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he gazed out the window.
"Don't worry," he said, almost to himself. "I'll do my best to make sure the brats don't have to see the cruelty of war. And maybe, just maybe, the generation after that won't even know what war is."
The room fell silent, his words settling over us like a blanket of unspoken hope.
Jiraiya-sensei's expression softened, a look of longing flickering across his face. Shikaku smiled proudly, his eyes brimming with quiet happiness. Tsunade-sama took a sip of her sake, but the faint curve of her lips betrayed her usual stoicism.
I took a deep breath, my chest tightening with emotion. Then I smiled at Kuro—bright and full of hope.
If there was anyone who could make that dream a reality… it was him.
We can hope. We can only hope.
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