บท 108: Naruto : Domination: Chapter 108
Shinobi weren't really meant to lay sieges.
Under the thundering skies of Kumogakure no Sato, with clouds streaking across the ground almost like snakes in the grass, Konoha troops had managed to reach the walls of the village with most of their forces intact, as due to an effective campaign of disinformation and counterintelligence.
The hot-headed Raikage had overextended his forces deep into Hi no Kuni, trying to stab at the hear of his most fierce enemy.
For all that ninja made for spectacular irregular troops, perfectly suited to every variation on missions that required the movements of small groups of people, an actual war couldn't be truly won without the occasional open, straightforward battle.
Sure, in every great war each of the Hidden Villages always acted like a slowly coiling spring: taking away resources from the enemy, placing false targets while seeking for actual weak points in the opponent, and generally waiting the perfect moment to strike.
The Hidden Wars performed by ninja were the methodical preparation of your forces while you subtly weakened the enemy: blowing up bridges, managing to steal info on the truly powerful shinobi and kunoichi that required a personal task force to be dealt with, subterfuge, poison, knives in the dark.
The rates of genin produced in wartime rose sharply along with the decreased commercial avenues that a Hidden Village had available. The number of false-flag operations spiked while D-ranks intended to acclimatize newly minted ninja to teamwork were swapped out for low-priority courier missions.
The death count on every side of the war rose steadily while the tension accumulated: and when the time was right, there was a lightning-fast sequence of missions that traded a high death toll for a massive gain in terms of strategical information.
That process repeated itself in waves, with the Kage remaining as a last line of defense in his own village, until the utter certainty of their necessity on the field for delivering a blow capable of turning the entirety of the war: a blow so devastating that the rest of the battles were turned from reciprocal wearing out of forces into the slowing bleeding out of the weaker army.
Shinobi weren't really meant to lay sieges. Attacking was easier than defending, but traps could be extremely deadly, and on a massive scale.
Itachi and I had literally shed our disguises in the process of vanishing from the premises of Kumo's HQ: fighting all the A-class shinobi present at the time without pulling out the big guns wasn't viable, but hiding only to fade into the background was a much simpler matter.
Itachi used one last time his Mangeyko to bring a tracker on a trail that would only led them to our entry point into Kumo, while he made use of his extraordinary stealth to vanish from everyone's senses.
I had needed more time, and the execution of another chosen summoning technique from the Snake contract: I wasn't really one to burrow into the ground to hide, but Suiton was still my primary affinity, and cloaked by a heavy mist that constantly informed me of the enemies' presence, it had simply been a waiting game of whack a mole. Lightning or not, the pursuers had eventually lost me.
Mostly because Konoha's forces had finally attacked, just as Itachi's raven had signaled to us: so, ours later our attack, we were in the full of Konoha's invasion of Kumo.
Mine and Itachi's capture of the Kyubi Jinchuriki and the head of Jiraya being used to claim his bounty had been used by Akatsuki with a cunning that left me almost breathless: the info was leaked in such a way to draw Unruly A outside of Kumogakure itself.
"A will be crossing Taki by now, in the chaos, Kakuzu and Hidan will exploit the first's knowledge of his old home to take the Nanabi Jinchuriki." Itachi informed me as I sat perfectly still next to him.
"How incredibly fast-paced." I tilted my head upwards to smell the growing weight of smoke and blood, "Sasori's solution is truly that effective?"
"I wouldn't know." Itachi laconically replied, his eyes closed while he cleaned away the rust-colored dry blood that marred his cheeks: "The Ichibi has been named Kazekage a month ago, soon enough, he'll be drawn outside his home turf."
A raven cawed as he landed over Itachi's shoulder, and after a second, he added: "While the two and three tails have already been sealed into temporary containers."
My eyebrows rose sharply: "That's extremely fast. And did that raven just tell you that?"
A flat gaze was the only answer that I received about my inquiry, but I had never been one to let things go, so I insisted: "I guess that war offers a lot of these opportunities... that leaves the four, five, and six tails: why haven't I been briefed on the plans for the other Biju?"
"I haven't been briefed by anyone in the Akatsuki." just like that, Itachi reminded me why he was so fucking terrifying, the raven on his shoulder puffed out its feathers with pride, and I found confirmation to my suspicion.
"After today, we'll need three weeks of pause, for the healing and for you to adapt." my eyes found his then, and the two onyxes that sat like pits of darkness on his face bled into a familiar red.
With the Sharingan active, his face remained stoic, but I could feel the intensity of what he was feeling like a bonfire burning right next to me: "I gave you a lot of trust, Daiki."
I don't see why I should stop now. Went unsaid, but it didn't fail to bring a smile to my lips: "I'm glad I'm not doing this alone, Itachi."
He deactivated his Sharingan, and we set to observe the battle that had begun in the meantime.
Shinobi weren't meant to lay sieges.
Like a dark wave, Konoha shinobi had risen from the clouds that ran over the ground, and defied any logic, with the explosions of balls of fire, streaks of lightning, and shearing winds, cracks had been quickly opened in the reinforced walls of Kumogakure no Sato.
Kumo's HQ WAS in disarray for the disappearance of the Hachibi Jinchuriki, half-destroyed because of our attack, and still split over the priorities of focusing on the research of Killer B -and ourselves- or putting their resources to the test against the incoming Konoha forces: the hierarchy was still there.
And shinobi were nothing if not professionals when it came to war and bloodshed, but those minutes of disarray, timed as they had been with Konoha's assault, had already turned the tide.
The battle raged among the streets of Kumo, ruin rampaged across the roofs: ninja who had suffered months of warfare, who had lost brothers, sisters, friends, mothers, and fathers to the conflict, were boiling cauldrons of hate. The most primal reaction of any human sang in the chakra of the attackers and defenders alike: find someone to blame for your suffering, and destroy them.
The walls fell soon enough, and the attack slowed as it was turned from an assault to a neverending struggle through the barricades that had appeared from the ground, guerrilla warfare at its finest was applied with the cold ruthlessness of people bred and raised to kill and slaughter.
Buildings that couldn't resist were blown up, streets that couldn't be secured were flooded, walls that couldn't be somersaulted shattered by lightning.
The world twisted and reshaped itself as combination techniques called down the fury of the heavens only to meet the burning certainty of hell itself: and in all of that, I finally fully slipped into Sage Mode, my hand resting on Itachi's left knee as I did what Fukasaku would have tried to do for Naruto in another life.
I took care of molding the chakra: my control and expertise as a medic, as well as my deep understanding and familiarity with Itachi's whole being, were more than up to the task.
My chakra was converted and let flow into my Uchiha companion: not to allow him access to Sage Mode, without training even he'd have turned to stone, but to share my perceptions of what was going on.
His Tsukuyomi blazed then, as in my mighty understanding of the world around us we soon found the signature of his little brother: familiar as it was, it was already starting to feel the effects of the protracted battle.
Perhaps in another life, Sasuke would have been older when he faced Itachi, perhaps if he was fresh and expecting such an attack his Sharingan would have been enough to overcome the illusion cast by his brother's Mangeyko.
But neither of those conditions applied here: here and now, Sasuke was tired, his chakra already, his otherwise sharp self-awareness dulled by the long hours of battle, his soul weary after the months of war.
And more importantly, I was actively participating.
...
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