Arc 3

Chapter 31

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

“Read this, and tell me what you think of it.”

It was amazing what prolonged contact could do to ease underlying tensions. Three years of being an active Jonin meant far more regular communication with his overall military commander, and that meant it was hard to stay tense and nervous around the man. At least, not as much as he used to.

Rasa slid a scroll across the desk towards him, and Ryoma scooped it up for initial inspections. It was a pretty damn fancy scroll, with golden caps, silk body, and the faint scent of something like perfume wafting from it. Most notable was the official ‘Wind’ symbol emblazoned on its outer surface.

Official communication from the capital. He would’ve asked if he was allowed to see this- but the Kazekage had just commanded him to read it. It would be pretty stupid to assume otherwise. He rolled open the scroll and began to skim through the contents.

Introduction of self and titles, declaration of communication, indication of intended receiver, congratulatory text about their military alliance with Konoha, prose about wind and sand, reduced coffers…

He stopped, narrowing his eyes and reading through the scroll more carefully, making sure that he was getting the correct message through the layers of court-speech and random poetry. 

After a few moments, he looked up with brows furrowed. “The Daimyo is reducing our funding.”

“So it seems.” Rasa replied blandly, taking a casual munch of his pocky-stick. 

“I was under the impression that he funded us through the distribution of high-payment missions- and he cut those off a few years ago.” Ryoma continued, eyes going back down to trail over the scroll again.

“Both methods were used- and you are correct. This is a second round of budget-cuts being declared in light of our declared intent to cooperate with Konoha in the future.” Rasa leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. 

“I see.” Ryoma acknowledged, turning the implications over in his mind while he chewed on the end of his necklace. A bad habit he had picked up from all the times Toyoko shared pocky with him. After a few more moments. “You would like to hear my thoughts on the matter?” He wasn’t really sure why, but that wasn’t really his position to ask why anyways. “About anything in specific or my general thoughts?”

“Your general thoughts, for now.”

“Well…” He began slowly, starting his reply as he assembled a more accurate mental picture of Suna’s geopolitical future using this new information. “Without this budget cut, I would’ve predicted another… nine or so years at the current rate of income and outcome before Suna was forced to take more drastic action.”

“Twelve- emergency economic measures would’ve been put into place at the halfway mark and bought more time.” Rasa corrected, chewing on the tip of the pocky stick like a cigarette. Common snacks, common habits, and all that. “Drastic action would’ve been taken sometime before then, most likely.”

Ryoma nodded to acknowledge the reply, and then continued. “Thirty three percent more time then, with those measures. That means this…” He glanced at the values again and almost cringed. A full twenty nine percent budget cut. “...averages back out to… maybe eight or nine years. I’d have to sit down to do all the related math.”

“Eight years, six months.” The Kazekage explained, closing his eyes. 

It wasn’t surprising that the Kazekage already had the figures ready, either himself or one of the top brass calculators had probably worked all this out within the hour that this message arrived. Ryoma’s involvement here was probably some sort of test- scouting for an upcoming role or mission they had planned.

“It’s obviously not good.” Ryoma commented dryly, reaching up to fiddle with the crystal shard like a toothpick, scratching his teeth and gums with the sharp bit at the end. “And I suspect that the Daimyo isn’t going to just increase our budget again if we ask nicely. He probably has increased security hanging around now too- just in case of a potentially violent reprisal on our parts. Further- while I’m sure we’re capable of turning the palace into a crater, the hit to our reputation would probably make us the first missing-nin village in history. I figure we’d want to avoid that.”

He paused, rolling the shardpick across his lips and then frowning. “That alliance with Konoha- I doubt that the Daimyo actually cares all that much. He was probably just looking for a plausible excuse to cut our funding. Packing up and moving to a different country is probably too expensive at this point too, and a good deal of our jutsu is specialized for desert living.”

Ryoma shook his head. “Either we find a way to replace the Daimyo, or we find a strong enough source of secondary revenue, and we’ll have to do it within eight and a half years. The council will have to come up with something for that-”

“What would you do?” The Kazekage interrupted, cracking open his eyes and fixing a focused stare at him. 

Ryoma paused, meeting the gaze. Not just tactical, he was being scouted for his strategic abilities here. Probably for a position in the planning department, if he had to guess, which would probably be fine. He’d request a transfer out after a few months. 

He let out a little hum, glancing down at the scroll. “Well, I’d preface my statement that I don’t believe I’m fully qualified for this kind of decision-making, Lord Kazekage.”

Rasa exhaled in a slightly amused manner, shaking out another stick of pocky and biting down on the end to pull it out. “Continue.” He ordered through teeth.

“I actually drafted a series of plans for this a few years ago.” 

The Kazekage paused briefly, turning back to him and raising a brow. 

Ryoma nodded and shrugged. “It was a hobby.” He explained before continuing. “I didn’t make any plans for potentially replacing the Daimyo, both because that would be treasonous of me and I don’t know enough about the man or his palace defenses to start drafting something like that up- but I did outline a series of plans for acquiring secondary revenue without needing to dip into civilian industry.”

Rasa nodded, chewing on his pocky stick.

Ryoma picked at his teeth with the crystal again. “In summary, there’s three options and all of them have problems. They all involve establishing satellite-locations in neighboring lands, which would mean spreading out our military power across a wider region. Sunagakure is nominally the least-populated Great Ninja Village, so this would normally be a terrible idea, but our Great Village Neighbors are both discouraged from attacking us right now. Konoha because they just declared cooperative intent, and Iwa because they're still recovering from the Third Ninja War.”

He rolled a hand thoughtfully, frowning again. “I’m sorry, do you have a map handy?”

Black Rings encircled the Kazekage’s eyes, and a creeping mist of black dust rose from the sides of the table and shaped themselves on the desktop. After a moment, they formed a nigh-perfect map of the Five Great Nations, complete with little sigils marking every country and land within. 

That took no handseals or visible effort on his part. The Kazekage was a bit of a showoff, sometimes. Ryoma took the crystal out of his mouth and used it to start pointing. 

“Thank you. Our first option is Claw Country, followed by Fang Country and maybe the Land of Mountains if we really want to press up. Satellite locations operated by Suna ninja would each only give mild increases in revenue with how poor those countries are, so they’d have to run on a pretty tight budget. They’d also need to negotiate with the local daimyo for the right to work there, or stay hidden from them, and potentially for a small budget from each. Our desert-based jutsu would likewise be less ineffective there, so specialists not reliant on traditional suna arts or high budgets are the best option there.”

“All of these expansions would be hotly contested by Iwa, so we’d need to discourage them from attacking us further. An all out attack on their home base might scatter them, but that would probably just provoke another ninja war, and one Konoha would be unlikely to support us in. We still have Pakura, so we have a known-counteragent for Jinchuriki Han- it’s Roshi that we’d have to be leery of.” He shook his head. “That and their Tsuchikage- Best scenario is discouraging them from resisting us at all, but I have no idea how that could be accomplished.”

“Overall- probably second in priority. Only feasible thanks to the beating Iwa took during the last war.” He let the crystal flow over to the next spot on the map. “Our next option is the Land of Rivers. Decentralized, fertile, and covered in competing factions. Konoha is unlikely to strongly resist us if we attempt to expand our influence into the region- provided we make clear our reasons and stay on our side of the border. They might just help us if we ask, the problem is-”

He tapped on the symbol for ‘valley’ in the region. “The region is already occupied by our long-term allies in Tanigakure. Expanding into it would mean either direct vassalization of Tani or wiping them out, and either way we betray them. Their current trust in us would afford us first-strike capabilities, and all that would remain afterwards is stragglers who weren’t present in their village at the time of the attack. Those stragglers could be a problem for decades to come, but Suna would be able to deal with it..”

He exhaled. “From there- we could simply insert a Suna ninja as one of the many competing factions and then have them unite the region with Suna and potentially Konoha support. This is the most lucrative option by far, eliminating the cost of purchasing bulk foodstuffs entirely, expanding our ninja business to cover a new territory, and allowing us to siphon wealth from our puppet as we need it.”

“The problem is that we’d have to stab one of our long term allies in the back, and that sends a pretty terrible message about our reliability if anyone ever finds out about it. Overall, first in priority.”

He moved the stick down a bit on the iron-sand map to tap on a series of islands, before leaning back and picking at his teeth again. “The third option is expanding down into Sea Country- it has all the same issues with expanding up into Fang and Claw but worse and less profitable. We’d have to move farther, figure out strategies for oceanic combat, get less revenue thanks to it being poorer, and deal with Kiri. They’d certainly resist our expansion down there, and we don’t have as much intel for battling them as we do for Iwa or Konoha. It’s the riskiest and least profitable option, but Kiri is far enough away from it that they might just let us expand down there if we ask nicely enough for it.”

He raised his eyes to look directly at the Kazekage. “Overall, third in priority.” 

The Kazekage chewed on his pocky for a moment, staring back at him. After a moment, he spoke again. “Those are all of your thoughts?”

“In summary. I can provide the drafts if you give me the time to head home and come back. Anything further would require greater intel than I have.”

“Nothing on Tea Country?”

Ryoma shrugged. “Traditionally the mission-domain of Konoha- we’d have to ask them about the matter first before making any moves if we want to maintain this alliance long-term. It’s another valid option for a satellite-location if we get a statement of non-interference from them, which I doubt considering we’re trying to take over their business there.”

He wiggled his hands about. “There’s not really a good option here. Not unless we want to establish something like a naval division to hunt pirates and confiscate their goods. I don’t think we’d get much more than pocket-change doing that- but it might buy us enough time for the current Daimyo to eat a bad shrimp and die.”

“I see. Produce those documents for me by the end of the day.”

“Yes Lord Kazekage. Is there anything else?”

“No, that will be all. You are dismissed.”

“Tell Mari I said hello.”

“Noted.”

He waved a hand behind him as he made his way out of the office, stepping through the doorway with metallic tinks and meeting with a familiar woman on the other side. She moved to walk in step with him, steps making their own wooden clack noises. She wore a black one-piece dress top tied off at the waist with a  large bow, limbs covered in a black layer that gave the impression of long gloves and stockings. 

The truth was that she wasn’t wearing anything on those limbs- the black was just to make it pass casual inspection easier.

“Was your meeting with Lord Kazekage productive?” Tsubame asked lightly, short black hair flipping around with her distinct gait. 

“I suppose. Do we still have hotpot leftovers.”

“No. Hotaru ate the last of it at oh-three hundred, while you were asleep.”

Ryoma hummed, picking at his teeth some more. “We better buy some more groceries before we go back then.”

“What would you like to eat tonight?” She asked as they moved through the entryway and out to the roofed streets of Sunagakure. 

“Am I allowed to swing by the ration distribution center and pick up my share?” He asked with a dry tone.

“Absolutely not.” She bluntly denied. “Pick something else.”

He huffed. “Then I have no strong opinion, choose something and it’ll probably be fine.”

“Fried fish with tartar sauce.”

“I have one strong opinion, it is against that option.”

“How do you know that you dislike it- you’ve never eaten tartar sauce.”

“I don’t have to try it to know I don’t want it. Some things are just self-evident- I’ve never been killed before, I know I don’t want to be killed.”

“You won’t die if you eat tartar sauce.”

“What would you do if I ate tartar sauce and then died because of it?”

“I’d request seppuku from the Lord Kazekage to atone for my failure.” Her tone indicated just how unlikely she thought that outcome would be.

“Well I certainly don’t want you to die- so for your sake, I will have to refuse to eat tartar sauce. The risk is too great.” Ryoma nodded with exaggerated confidence, his armor clanking as he did. It was a bit hard to be a noisy ninja, but not impossible.

“For my sake?” Tsubame repeated with a bland look on her face.

“Yerp. I’d be terribly sad if you died, so sad that I might have to kill myself over it.” 

“This scenario began with the presumption of your death. How would you kill yourself if you were already dead?”

“Easy.” He declared, then said nothing more, instead just staring at her briefly and restraining the urge to smirk. After a moment he turned away, making for the food market they regularly frequented. 

“You explained nothing.” She pointed out with an unimpressed expression.

“You aren’t a real ninja if death stops you from doing what you want.” He explained with an easy humor, rolling a hand. 

“That would include every ninja who has ever died before.” 

Not every ninja. “Nuh uh.” 

She didn’t seem too enthused with his childish rebuttal. “Let's eat grilled vegetables and okonomiyaki tonight.” She suggested with a piercing stare. 

“That’s a sudden return to the topic at hand.” He pointed out with an amused smile, looking down at her with a side-eye. 

“Is that dish agreeable with you?” She asked, stepping into the garden-store doorway and reaching for a reusable grocery basket. 

“Sure, sure.” He waved off. “We’ll pick up some melon juice too, we’re probably running low.”

“We are. I checked the fridge before we left this morning.”

“Ah, that’s good then.”

“Anything other business in Suna today?”

“I think Toyoko mentioned something about coming over today during the last Karaoke Night- Puppet Corps business of some sort.”

“Business.” Tsubame repeated blandly.

“Something like that. I didn’t ask what.” Ryoma shrugged, reaching over and picking up a zucchini for inspection. Yep, this sure was a zucchini. He handed it over to Tsubame so that she could inspect it.

After a few moments, she apparently decided that it was no good, and put it back among its others before picking up another, different zucchini and inspecting it. It was eventually decided to pass inspection and placed in the hand basket. 

To Ryoma’s eyes, they were perfectly identical. He wasn’t sure why the second one passed and the first one didn’t. He picked up another zucchini and handed it over without bothering to inspect.

Tsubame distractedly looked at it, immediately deemed it substandard, and put it back before looking for another and inspecting it. 

He smirked, reaching into the basket and pulling out the first zucchini again, handing it over for her to inspect.

She looked it over for a few seconds, then shook her head and put it back among the other vegetables. The basket was now down to one zucchini. She inspected a different one and eventually put it in the basket.

Ryoma wondered how long he could keep this bit going. He pulled out another ‘good’ zucchini with a little smirk and handed it over for ‘inspection’.

It too returned among the other zucchini. He smirked as she added a new vegetable to the basket.

A few moments later, she checked the basket, realized that she only had two vegetables inside, and glared at him.

“What?” He asked with a half-grin. “I’m just trying to help- here, is this one any good?” He held up a previous ‘good’ zucchini, offering it to her. 

She snatched it from his hand, face scrunched up at him. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about- your tone seems to be implying that I’m doing something nefarious or mischievous, and a professional ninja like me would never do something like that. That would be ridiculous.”

“Your habitual pranking would be cute on a child- far less so when the perpetrator is supposed to be an adult.”

“I’m just an itty bitty babbey.”

“I will request spanking permissions from the Lord Kazekage.”

“Kinky of you, Tsuba-chan. I’m going to get strange feelings if the unscrupulous older woman in my house touches me inappropriately- I might grow up all wrong.”

“You’re already grown, Ryoma-san.”

“You didn’t deny the unscrupulous part.”

“I’m going to buy some beer while we’re here.” 

“And now she’s bringing alcohol into my house I’m in danger” He placed his hands on his cheeks and wiggled his hips. “Oh no~”

She didn’t dignify his antics with a response, leaving him alone in the aisle and walking off without a word. 

After a moment, he chuckled, dropping the gesture and following after her.

A position in ops and command wouldn’t be too bad, he supposed. So long as it wasn’t too important. He’d get stressed out if he was told to manage a big operation on his own.

iChapter 32

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

The Inn he was forced to buy turned out to be a decent investment. A large property where he could fit all his workshopping materials and modify more or less how he wished, a fantastically useful thing to have. It was built as a large L-shape braced up against one of the massive scattered rocks that jutted up from the sands. It was placed in such a way to be shaded during the morning, and warmed during the evening. The building and rocks worked together to keep the gap in the center, the drained onsen, shaded during as much of the day as possible.

The building itself was two stories, with communal and utility rooms on the ground floor and bedrooms on the second floor. The exterior was thick, rounded rock walls capped in a sloped roof with long awnings to block even more of the outrageously hot sun. This kept the interior at an even lower average temperature, which made it pretty cold at night.

He opened the door with a raised finger, letting himself and his assigned minder inside. A second raised finger kept the trapstring taut and prevented the mechanism from triggering as they passed through. 

“I will start dinner.”

Ryoma glanced over at the quadruple amputee, her puppetlimbs covered in grocery bags and her features blank. “Alright.” He replied blandly. “Do you want my help or-”

“No.” She shook her head, making her way down the hall and towards the kitchen. “I will be sufficient.” 

He knew better than to try to argue, even for the sake of helping her out. Tsubame had an independence streak a mile wide, wanting to do as much as possible on her own. She’d just be in a sour mood if he tried to press the issue about helping her. It made sense, he’d probably be traumatized in a similar way if he lost all his limbs to super-acid salamander saliva. 

So instead he shrugged and made his way in the opposite direction. There were eight bedrooms on the second floor, two on the ground floor. The two on the ground floor were the first things he renovated after moving in. 

He reached out with another pair of fingers, opening a door and disabling the trap inside with one smooth action. The room beyond was his new workshop, being about as large as his entire old apartment had been, vaguely divided with a trio of supports in the centerline of the room. One side contained rows of shelves, boxes, and spare parts. The other side contained several workstations, tools, clamps, and so on.

He stepped over to the boxy station in the center of the room, latches along his armor coming undone and plates folding out and away from his body. A few seconds of clamps being undone and parts disconnecting, and he was able to step out of his combat exoskeleton. An extended pinky kept it upright while he got out, and a moment later it was sealed into a scroll. 

He didn’t need the framed station to get out of it, but the frame was still useful for keeping it upright while he worked on it. His Mk3 Puppetarmor, one of two.

The Wood Dragoon was useful, but he had an entire book full of its problems, and when it came time to upgrade he had two primary paths he could take with it. One was to scale it up, making it even larger to give him more space inside the cockpit and more room to fit more weapons. The other was to scale it down, make it a properly form-fitting puppet.

Naturally, he simply decided to do both.  The Mk2 Puppetarmor went large, and the Mk3 went small. Both designs had their benefits and drawbacks, and he found a new problem to address and revise every few months, usually immediately after a mission. He briefly considered sitting down to make another bolter- it wouldn’t take him more than a few minutes with his new assembly line…

He left the workshop, closing the door behind him and moving to the stairs. He shook his veil out and tied it up over his face again as he walked. He unsealed a pair of sandals and slipped them on as he hopped his way up the stairs. 

There were a few rooms that he wasn’t doing anything with, the bedrooms. Upon the suggestion of Toyoko, he opened them for low-cost rent. Most people were not interested, simply because the inn was on the outside of the walls and therefore theoretically slightly more vulnerable to enemy attacks.

Two were, however, both of which were ninja that he apparently went to the academy with, but didn’t remember them at all. He had to check their profiles, and sure enough, there was a few years of overlap between his time at the academy and their own attendance. The power of being forgettable was pretty scary.

He knocked on the first door, one hand in the pocket of his slack underlayer. “Yo.” He called out.

Faintly, from within, a voice called back. “One second!” Footsteps followed, the doorknob turned, and then swung inwards to reveal the slightly tired, squinting expression of a black-haired male. “Yeah?” 

Sato was pretty much always in a sour mood, a no-corps Genin from the same age bracket as himself with a knack for water-release and a tendency to complain. He was diligent about paying his rent on time though, and that was more than enough.

Ryoma pointed a thumb back at the stairs. “Tsubame is cooking now, so dinner is probably going to be ready soon.”

Sato yawned and shook his head. “Right. Thanks for telling me.” He grumbled, reaching up to rub his face with one hand before letting it slide off. “What time is it?”

“Evening- chakra exhaustion?”

“Something like that, last mission was rough.” Sato growled, shaking his head. “It was- nevermind.” He cut himself off. 

Ryoma raised a brow, waiting for him to continue and standing in a slightly awkward silence before shrugging. “That’s it from me.” He walked away, towards the door at the end of the hall. Behind him, the door gently closed as Sato slowly pulled himself back into wakefulness.

The next and only other inhabitant of the Ryoma Inn stayed in the room right next to his- The corner-room was his own, largest overall and big enough for him to fit all his nothing inside. Tsubame insisted on sleeping in what was probably a closet, and nothing he could say would deter her. That would normally be something of an issue, but this Inn was designed for noble guests, so even the closet was big enough to fit a bed and some personal belongings by itself. 

The room immediately next to the corner-room was somewhat smaller, that is to say, still pretty huge. He raised his hand to knock, only to be cut short as the doorknob twisted and swung open on his own. Another ninja about his age, a girl wearing a long, concealing white jacket and hood over a form-fitting black bodysuit that came from her ankles and wrists to the bridge of her nose.

Large, round glasses covered her ever-nervous eyes, partially covered by twisting locks of greasy hair. “H-hey!” She greeted, glancing down to the floor and then to the side. “I- I heard you, talking to Sato-san, about… dinner…” She lost steam near the end of the sentence, partially closing the door behind herself and pulling her long jacket tightly around her torso.

Hotaru was a fellow member of the Puppetry Corps, a Chunin as of one or two years ago. Her most notable feature was her timid demeanor and habit of getting sucked into her puppetry work for long periods. These long periods of working meant long periods without bathing, evidenced by the distinct odor of sweat and greasy hair that clung to her on occasions. 

Occasions such as right now. He raised a brow. “...Been hard at work?” He asked mildly.”

She gave a harsh flinch at that. “N-no, I mean- I ha- yes I have been but- Not as- not…” She stopped herself, then just defaulted to a quiet utterance. “...Yeah.”

He stared down at her for a few seconds longer, before slowly nodding. “Right… Dinner soon, if you want to shower and change before.” It was perhaps the politest way he could tell her that she was pretty rank at the moment.

She flinched again. “Y-yeah… I’ll go- I’ll go… do that.” She pulled back into the room, cracking the door open just enough to slip her lower half into it again. “I need to- go get some clean… bye.” 

The door closed quickly after, leaving him standing alone in the hall. 

He exhaled in brief, mild amusement, shaking his head and making his way back downstairs, towards the kitchen. 

“ETA?” He asked at the doorway, looking into the kitchen where Tsubame was at work, knife rapidly dicing through vegetables with a stoic expression.

“Nineteen minutes. Do not set the table, I will do that.” 

He gave the side of her head an unimpressed expression, before rolling his eyes. “Right, I’m going to deliver a scroll to the Kazekage.”

“Please do not leave the building while I’m cooking.”

He waved a hand over his shoulder as he left the kitchen. “I’ll use a sand clone- I’ll be in the workshop.”

—

“We’re back!” His sand clone called out at the doorway, before promptly dissolving. A short distance away, Ryoma stood up from his workshop floor and made his way towards the kitchen.

“We?” Tsubame’s voice called out from the kitchen. 

A short woman with dark black hair and a prim white uniform walked through the front door, giving him an unimpressed look as she slid her boots off and linked up with him in the hallway. 

“I ran into Toyoko on the way, so I walked back with her.”

“Your clone did- something you did not inform me of.” The short puppeteer squinted up at him as they moved through the kitchen door and towards the dining room. She turned her head and nodded shallowly as they walked through the kitchen. “Hello Jonin Tsubame.” 

“Chunin Gentai.” The quadruple amputee returned with a shallow greeting of her own, stacking plates on her arms from the countertop. 

Ryoma pushed the door open into the dining room, a long table with many chairs lined up along either side. Originally the table was much shorter and the chairs were nothing more than kneel-pillows, but Ryoma didn’t feel like being a traditionalist when he was trying to eat and had them replaced. 

Hotaru and Sato were already there, Hotaru looking and smelling significantly better than she did before and still mostly retracted in on herself, Sato looking significantly more awake and chugging down a glass bottle of chilled fruit juice. 

Ryoma rounded the table, walking over to sit down across from Sato and went through a series of stretches to pop his joints. Stretch complete, he slackened back in his chair just in time for Tsubame to slide a plate of something in front of him. It was kinda like a loaded pancake with a side of various grilled vegetables. 

“Thanks for the meal.” He raised a thumb at his minder, who nodded and took a seat next to him. 

“”“Thanks for the meal.””” The others repeated, clapping their hands together and then breaking their chopsticks apart. Ryoma wasn’t really sure how he was going to eat this with chopsticks, but resolved to try. A transformation later, and he could take his mask off without visibly changing. 

“...Why is Kurogane-san here?” Tsubame asked with a blank look on her face. Ryoma chewed and swallowed a mouthful of the vegetables, before glancing over to the short woman sitting next to him. 

She finished chewing and swallowed. “I came on behalf of several younger members of the Puppetry Corps- they would like to use Bolter-style puppets and request your advice in their construction and operation.”

Hotaru jumped slightly at that, eyes locking upon them from across the table. 

“Huh.” He replied mildly, taking another large bite of hot vegetable. He chewed for a few moments, then swallowed. “Do they want tips in person or would some of my notes work?” 

“That is left to your own discretion.” The short woman nodded with a scowling face, effect slightly ruined by the little smear of delicious vegetable sauce against the corner of her mouth. “Either would be sufficient.”

“I’ll give you one of my old journals- the one about my Bolter process. They can read through that.” He took another bite.

“Oh uhm-!” Hotaru exclaimed, reaching her hand out and opening and closing it in hesitation. He raised a brow in her direction. “I would- uh… also, like to read through it… if thats… okay.”

“Yes?” He replied with a tilt to his head. “Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Because most ninja don’t share their secret techniques, Mr. Prodigy.” That was Sato’s most annoying nickname for him. The black-haired Genin squinted at him somewhat irritably, taking a bite of his pancake-thing after.

Ryoma gave him a flat stare. “I think I’ll be safe from enemy action from sharing a journal from a few years ago.” Besides, a Bolter was so cheap and disposable that it didn’t matter if the enemy knew exactly how it worked- it was still going to do everything he needed a Bolter to do.

Shoot things and then explode.

“I didn’t say you would.” Sato grumbled through a mouthful, closing his eyes and taking another bite. “I just said what was normal.”

“It would be prudent to write a more curated scroll of Bolter-Techniques, Jonin Ryoma.” Toyoko spoke, staring up at him with a pointed look. She took another bite as he huffed and followed her example.

“Calling them Bolter-Techniques implies it’s more complicated than it really is.” He complained, leaning back in the chair. “Fine, fine- I’ll get something written up tonight.”

“You need regular sleep.” Tsubame stated bluntly, face blank as she stared at him. “I would recommend reserving the writing for tomorrow.”

Ryoma grumbled to nothing, taking another bite of his food. He was beset on all sides here, besieged from every angle. 

“...Uhm… can I still… read the journal…?” 

“Yes. I’ll grab it for you after I’m done eating.”

They ate in silence for a minute or so, eventually interrupted by Sato speaking up again.

“Ryoma- I have a favor to ask.” He stated with a scowl, like the words coming out of his mouth tasted bad. “Rent is due on the seventh, right?”

“Right.” Ryoma nodded, scraping the bits of food together on his plate to start scooping them up into his mouth.

“I’m not gonna be able to cover it on the last mission’s pay- the client stiffed us.” Sato glared to the side. “Would you uhh… Mind bringing me along on your next B or A rank mission? I’ll pay you back, I swear!”

Ryoma considered it for a moment. Sato was only a genin for a reason, but if he really wanted to go on a higher rank mission then…

“Yeah that’s fine.” He shrugged, swallowing the last bite and setting his chopsticks down across the plate. “We’ll check into the mission board tomorrow, and see if there’s anything available in that bracket. If not, you can just pay me back when you can.”

“I- really?” Sato pulled back, brows furrowing.

“Did you think I was going to kick you out for one missed payment?” Ryoma stated bluntly back, raising a brow. 

“Yeah, I did.” Sato replied with a scowl, reaching up to scratch the side of his head. “That would be normal, at least.”

“Missing one payment isn’t a big deal.” Ryoma shook his head, leaning back in his chair. He grabbed at his necklace, bringing a jagged shard of crystal up to pick at his teeth. “You’re a ninja, you can just pay me back later.”

“Right.” Sato nodded, frowning. He looked down at the table. “Right. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Ryoma waved off, taking the plate and walking towards the kitchen. “Let me see if I can find that old journal- I think it’s in the workshop somewhere.”

Several minutes later, he determined that it was not, in fact, in the workshop. It was actually in the back of his old bulk-storage scroll.

—

“Jonin Ryoma- here for another mission?” The woman at the desk greeted cheerfully. Ryoma didn’t know her name off the top of his head, but she was the Chunin responsible for managing the ‘front desk’ of the central command center of Sunagakure. All ninja went to her for the list of currently available missions, unless they were being assigned to something specific by the Kazekage.

A somewhat older lady with long black hair, pale skin, and exceptionally well-manicured everything. She had full, thick, dark eyelashes, dark red lipstick, a faint dusting of blusher, and paired her Chunin vest with a highly fashionable modification to the Sunagakure dress uniform. Her most notable feature was her slightly obnoxious amount of golden jewelry. 

The most desk-ninja to ever desk-ninja.

“Yeah- give me the B-rank list to look at, if you would.” He rolled a casual hand. He remembered her being pretty dismissive of him overall for the longest time, up until the point where he started wearing the silly necklace of crystal shards. Maybe she just didn’t respect people without neat necklaces.

She smiled politely, bending forwards to grab at the list under the desk, a motion that naturally emphasized her modest bust and the excessive amount of jewelry around it. After a moment of wiggling, she retrieved the folder and handed it up to him. He stepped to the side, allowing others to walk up and talk to her if they wanted while he flipped through the list of missions idly.

“Lord Kazekage!” The desk-ninja chirped happily in greeting. Ryoma glanced up, locking eyes with his Supreme Commander, who was holding a cup of coffee with several pocky sticks sticking out, partially submerged in the liquid. The other hand held a bag of take-out.

He raised a hand in greeting. “Lord Kazekage.”

“Ryoma.” The Kazekage replied shortly, glancing at the folder in his hands, before jerking his head towards the stairs. “Follow me to my office- If you’re looking for a mission, I have one for you.” 

With that he turned and walked away. Ryoma blinked, gently handing the folder back to the desk-ninja and moving to follow.

Faintly behind him, he heard the desk-ninja huff in frustration.

Chapter 33

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

Initial details were discussed, then a proper briefing was scheduled to get everyone together. Half an hour later, Ryoma was standing in a group of four in the Kazekage’s office. Himself, Tsubame, Sato, and a man that he had exchanged words with on two occasions prior.

A relatively short old man, with a gaunt face and long white mustache under steely grey eyes. He wore a loose black jacket over his flak vest, with the symbol of Suna prominently emblazoned on the right shoulder, and the word ‘Captain’ emblazoned on the left. Under he wore loose white robes, which were tied off at the ends with scarlet, braided cords. 

The massive iron warfan on his back was a clear sign of his intra-village affiliation.

Arada, captain of the Shiki Corps, and a much bigger deal than Ryoma was.

Rasa tapped upon a section of a paper map rolled out across his table, standing up and leaning forwards with a stick of pocky half hanging out of his map. “Captain Arada will be acting Team Leader for this three-objective mission, Jonin Ryoma will be acting Second.” He trailed his finger along a river that traced itself down from the Land of Rain through Claw Country and ending in Wind Country. “The mission will involve the destruction of three key locations. It is imperative that they are destroyed completely, and the team is extracted before Iwa has an opportunity to respond.”

The Kazekage tapped three positions on the map, golden sands falling from his fingertips and forming into shapes as he did so. Two bridges along the country-splitting river, and one trio of houses on the Wind-facing side of the river. “The destruction of Ginseng Bridge, B-Rank. The destruction of Pao-Pao Bridge, B-Rank. The destruction of Naito Village, A-Rank. You will have until the end of next month to accomplish the mission, but do not overstay your welcome once you begin your attacks.”

The Kazekage leaned back and crossed his arms. “The client wishes to remain anonymous, and has already forwarded the payment for mission completion.” He withdrew a scroll from within a jacket-sleeve, placing it on the tablet before them. “Remaining details and objective intelligence are secured within, be prepared to destroy the document before allowing it to fall into enemy hands. Any questions?”

Ryoma glanced over to see if the Shiki Corps Captain had anything to say, but the old man’s arms were crossed and his eyes were closed. He didn’t seem like he was ready to ask anything any time soon. Ryoma nodded to bring attention to himself. “Why specifically myself for this mission- Tsubame and Sato are along because I’m present, I know, but I’m fairly certain that Captain Arada is capable of completing this entire operation on his own.”

The Kazekage nodded with a stern frown. “You are correct, Captain Arada is indeed entirely capable of completing this operation on his own. The concern arises from potential interference from either of Iwa’s Jinchuriki. For this reason, if either Jinchuriki is suspected to be present on the field, you have pre-emptive authorization to employ the Kyojutsu to support Arada in a fighting retreat.”

Ryoma nodded slowly, brows furrowed. “I see.” He responded, thinking the matter over.

One of the many compromises that arose from the development of the Mk2, the Great Dragoon, was the concern over so many village secrets being invested into a single platform. If it were to be secured by the enemy, then it would be a village-wide breach of jutsu-secrets, which would obviously be a very bad thing.

For this reason, the actual deployment of the Mk2 was a careful, deliberate affair. Ryoma had to receive explicit permission either from the Kazekage himself or the acting Team Leader to summon it into the field, and summoning it without said permission would require very good justification on his part. If Ryoma was acting Team Leader, he could give himself permission to deploy it, but he’s refrained from doing so thus far- that would go against the spirit of the rule.

All in all, in the two and a half years since the Mk2 was completed, it had been summoned into the field all of twice. Both occasions being supervised and guarded by several veteran teammates in case it left any survivors and thus- leaked knowledge of its existence. As far as anyone in Suna was aware, the specifics of what exactly the ‘Kyojutsu’ was and how it operated was still a secret. 

If the Kazekage was ready to pre-emptively authorize its deployment here, then this mission either had a very important client or it was considered critical for Suna’s strategic goals. The Great Dragoon wasn’t going to be taking out a Jinchuriki solo barring exceptional circumstances, but it would be enough to soak up time and attention for the Captain to act freely, which is all it would really need to do.

“Is it- is it alright for me to be here, Lord Kazekage?” Sato asked with a distinctly worried and tense expression. “I mean… I’m still just a Genin…”

“As was stated, Captain Arada is sufficient to complete this operation entirely on his own.” The Kazekage stated bluntly. “Jonin Ryoma is only present as insurance for an unlikely scenario.” In other words, the other two people on the mission were totally superfluous to its expected completion. The Kazekage tilted his head slightly. “I would advise taking the opportunity presented to hone your mission-sense, Genin Sato.”

“Yes, Lord Kazekage.” Sato swallowed nervously, hands tense at his sides. 

“Are there any secondary objectives in the region we should be aware of?” Tsubame asked with her signature blank tone.

“If possible, conceal Suna’s involvement in the destruction of these sites. Only if time and situation permits, however, do not allow secrecy to sabotage the primary objectives.” The Kazekage answered with a firm nod. “Any further objectives are left to the discretion of the Team Leader.”

“What level of clearance to discuss mission details?” She continued. 

“ANBU-level before mission completion and up to one month after. Jonin-level for up to one year after. It will be declassified at some point in the future, you will be informed of the change when it happens.” The Kazekage nodded. “Any further questions?”

A moment of silence. Rasa nodded again, sitting back down in his chair as the little golden symbols on the map dissolved. “Dismissed.”

—

They agreed to meet at the gates of the village in another half-hour, then depart for Claw Country immediately. Well, it was more like Captain Arada declared that they were going to do that, and as Team Leader they were obligated to follow his orders.

Packing for a potentially month-long mission wasn’t too hard, most of his supplies were already in his bulk-storage scroll, and the only thing he really had to care about was grabbing his traveling cloak and traveling helmet. A large, concealing black coat that went completely over his Mk3 Puppetarmor, keeping the limbs covered all the way down to his ankles.

Keeping his armor covered while he was traveling allowed him to pretend that it was a big secret he was keeping, a secret that was relatively easy to uncover ahead of time because he didn’t wear the coat while walking around Sunagakure itself. So when he revealed the armor in a fight, an enemy who has already spied on him will already know ‘the secret’ and make plans to counter it.

Meanwhile, Ryoma has already planned for them to undercover his secrets, keeping his knowledge of their knowledge of his secrets a secret, and thus able to prepare a counter for their counters to his basic puppetarmor. Meanwhile the real secrets were the things he could attach to his puppetarmor and summon in if he really needed to.

Prepwork for ninja combat was confusing sometimes. 

The traveling helmet was designed to look like a concealing but relatively normal head. A conical metal ‘straw hat’ ringed with tiny eyes with a concealing veil and wrapping that covered everything except his actual eyes, which were in turn covered by desert goggle lenses. This veil concealed a solid, enclosing helmet underneath. 

All of this was very hot in a desert. That’s why he had the Air Convection Jutsu.

His large frame and concealing coat drew eyes as he stood at the gates of Sunagakure, waiting out the last few minutes with Tsubame and Sato standing next to him. Tsubame was her own somewhat concealing clothes, baggy sleeves and pants keeping her limbs mostly concealed beneath but open in the middle to let her torso breathe beneath the flak vest. An unslung bow was carried across her lower back, along with a series of large scrolls.

Sato, proving himself a fan of the reliable standard, wore a loose tan coat over a white shirt and dark blue pants tied off at the ends. A white hat with sun-blocking flaps and open-toed sandals completed the look. 

Exactly upon the agreed upon minute, the Captain of the Shiki Corps appeared in a swirl of wind, looking almost exactly as he did just half an hour ago. He eyed each of them up for a moment, before grunting in something akin to satisfaction and immediately starting a brisk walk beyond the reaches of Sunagakure.

“Introductions.” Captain Arada grumbled, glancing back at them. “I specialize in widescale destruction with warfan techniques. I am highly proficient with all other ninja arts.” 

Ryoma waited a half-moment to see if the captain would continue at all, but he didn’t. He nodded shallowly, reaching up to lower his helm-jaw through the veil and say his own introductions. “I’m a puppeteer specialized in close-ranged and hand-to-hand combat, with passing capability in wind, earth, and summoning ninjutsu. I use the occasional genjutsu. Please inform me if anyone touches any of my weapons- it’s a fast acting paralytic.”

The Captain turned his short gaze towards the next in line. Tsubame nodded and started to speak. “I specialize in all-ranges weapon use, hand-to-hand combat, and single target elimination. I use a handful of ninjutsu, tools, and poisons to supplement this. I will prioritize targets that threaten Jonin Ryoma, a standing order from Lord Kazekage.”

The Captain turned his stern eyes to the final member of their four-man team. Sato jumped a little when he realized eyes were upon him. “Er- Sato Taro. I know a few ninjutsu, the basic three, three water, two wind, one earth. I’m… decent at staying quiet?”

That sounded more like a question than a statement. 

The Captain stared at him for a few moments longer, before grunting dismissively and turning his gaze forwards again. That seemed like the end of the introductions phase, so Ryoma turned to Sato and asked another question. “Do you know how to make and prime an explosive tag?”

Sato looked at him with a vaguely insulted expression. “I- yes? I’ve been at this as long as you have.”

Ryoma tilted his head in mild confusion. “...How are you still a genin? Explosive tags and knowing when to pull out alone can carry you into Chunin.” He should know, because that’s exactly what carried him into Chunin. Most of the killing power of a Bolter came from its ability to shoot explosives and then explode itself.

“Really?” Sato gave him a troubled grimace, turning aside and reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Well I- I don’t have a team to take the Chunin Exams with. I’d need to… get one.”

“You can take the Chunin Exams alone, you know? That’s what I did.” Ryoma replied with a little shrug of his heavy shoulders. 

“I know- I was going to sign up for the next one that happened in Suna.” Sato denied with a wave of his hands. “I don’t want to risk taking on the exams alone in another village.”

Sensible enough, he supposed. Ryoma nodded and faced forwards again.

“That’s why you’re still a Genin.” The Captain growled at the front of their little pack, sliding down the sand dunes before them with a practiced bend to his knees. Sato’s shoulders rose defensively as the old man turned to glare back at him. “Caution is important, but a Coward is useless.”

“I- I’m not a coward! I have an entirely reasonable level of risk-assessment!” Sato defended, slapping himself on the chest as they started running up the next dune. “I know what kind of monsters win the Chunin Exams, I’m nowhere near ready to take those guys on. I’m waiting for a home territory advantage to strike, that’s just good sense!”

“The objective of the Chunin Exams isn’t to win.” Tsubame correctly blandly, making Sato stumble forwards and flail for a few moments as he steadied his run. She continued after letting him straighten up. “It’s simply to demonstrate your abilities, and advertise those abilities to potential clientele in the finals. Whether or not you get promoted as Chunin is entirely divorced from winning or losing.”

Sato looked simultaneously baffled and irritated at his long-held belief being challenged like this. “Wait so- I thought you had to-”

“The Chunin Exams are a polite formality at their core.” Ryoma began with a shake of his head. “They exist as a way to demonstrate young talent both to rival villages and civilians. Against villages, we have a way to see how their next generation of ninja compare to our own in a way that doesn’t compromise the security of any secrets or jutsu of actual importance. For civilians, we get a way to demonstrate our abilities and capabilities as tools for hire for their particular needs.”

“An event conjured up by that Third Hokage, allegedly for the sake of improving relations.” Captain Arada grumbled with a shake of his head. “Fiction for the nobility and merchants. We agreed to its terms for the opportunities it provided, the chance to further our strategic intelligence.”

“Wait so- what’s the point of even sending Genin to the exams if they don’t matter for promotion?!” Sato threw his hands forwards with an incredulous expression.

“It was part of the terms we agreed upon. All Genin must attend the Chunin Exams for the duration of at least one trial before promotion.” Arada continued with a distant rumble, before breaking out into a series of raspy chuckles. “The first exam was a shitshow. Taking place in Konoha- no one was there to actually compete, just to scout their Village. All the Genin we put forth were withdrawn and promoted after the first trial.”

“So Konoha won by default, huh?” Ryoma asked with a dry amusement.

“They held this grand tournament for the second and third trials- telling the precise truth, that every other village decided to withdraw in the first round!” Arada continued with a crackling laughter. “The present nobles and merchants see this- every other village loses a tenth of their clients in a single move! That old bastard Third played us! Ahahaha-hah! Months to recover from that disaster!”

“Which is why we play along more these days.” Ryoma raised a hand palm-up, looking to Sato as the Captain continued to laugh to himself. “You personally don’t have to win to make Chunin, but no Great Village wants to lose any of their revenue to their rivals.”

“...Right. That makes sense.” Sato glanced at him with a frown, before looking straight ahead again. “I uh… I might sign up for the next one.”

“When is the next Chunin Exam anyways?” Ryoma asked, rolling his jaw in thought. “July, in Hotspring Country, right?”

“That’s correct.’ Tsubame confirmed with a nod. 

“It’s probably something to prepare for, Sato.” Ryoma nodded, before letting an amused grin form on his hidden face. He shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “Unless of course, you just want to be a Genin forever~!”

“Ah, Shaddap!” Sato growled. “Not everyone can be Mr. Prodigy! Some of us are actually normal, you know!”

“You have explosive tags, you’ll do fine.” Ryoma waved him off. “The only thing you have to worry about in Hotsprings is the insane murder cults.”

“I- wh-wait what?” Sato stopped short, brows furrowing as he stared into the side of Ryoma’s head. “Insane murder cults? In- In Hotsprings?”

“Yep. You know the average religious extremist over there is a B-rank threat, right?” Ryoma teased with a carefully factual tone. “That’s also where the green demon women with scary faces and magic hair live.”

“You ass! I was believing you for a moment there!” Sato growled, shaking a fist at him. Ryoma let out a rolling, amused snort at his anger. “Don’t get me worked up like that, I was starting to worry about nothing!”

They jumped over a few more dunes, Sato growling at him and Ryoma letting out the occasional chuckle the whole while. After a few minutes, Sato had calmed down.

“...Hey so…” Sato began with a slightly puzzled tone. “What was that ‘Kyojutsu’ that the Lord Kazekage mentioned…?”

“Above your clearance, Genin.” Captain Arada, one of the many contributors to the project, answered immediately. He glanced back with a serious gleam in his eye and scowl on his face. “You are permitted to know of its classification and nothing more. If you witness it at any point during this mission, you are to pretend that you saw and heard nothing. Do you understand?”

Sato raised his hands and leaned back, eyes wide. “I understand! I won’t say anything! Not a peep from me!”

After a few moments, the captain turned his gaze forwards again, and Sato dropped his hands. Nervously, he glanced over at Ryoma before swallowing and asking another question. “Am I- am I allowed to ask what a ‘Kyojutsu’ is? I’ve never heard the term before.”

“If you have to ask what it is, then no, you’re not allowed to know.” Ryoma clarified with a shake of his head. It was impossible to keep things a secret forever, much like every other top level scary jutsu, it would eventually become known or it would stop being used entirely. What the current secrecy ensured was that they would have at least a few years of missions with it as a complete surprise. 

Completely pointless for deterrence strategies, but Suna already had pretty good deterrence in the One-Tail Sand Demon and living in a place that no one wants to invade. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“...Right. Sorry.”

“What pace are we setting for Claw Country, Captain Arada?” Tsubame asked. 

“The current one. Lunch during noon, dinner at sunset, six hours of sleep.” The old captain declared from the front, hopping up a dune without disturbing the grains beneath his feet. “We will arrive in three days, scout each location, then destroy them and return. The mission will be complete within two weeks.”

Ryoma was glad he brought extra chakra pills, he was pretty sure Sato was going to need them from the look of despair on his face. 

Chapter 34

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

“I wonder why the village decided to accept this one.” Sato mused, rubbing his chin on the second day of their travel. The desert had started to shift into arid, rocky plains by this point, and the occasional cloud stifled the merciless sun above for brief periods. “Claw is normally Iwa territory, right? Seems kinda risky to be making a move like this, we just got out the last war. This is mostly just a tourist-trap kind of village, right?”

“You are free to wonder.” Captain Arada replied carelessly, hopping over a rock formation and sliding down a hill. The rest of them followed immediately after, kicking up lines of dust behind them. The captain’s tone indicated that he had some insight that the rest of them were no privy too.

Well, insight that Sato and Tsubame were not privy to. Ryoma was almost certain about who the client was and why they were doing this. After all, the destruction of key sites under Iwa influence in Claw were outlined in his wartime drafts, even if the precise specifics were not.

“Well… If you’re trying to puzzle something like that out- it’s best to start with figuring out how Suna will or will not benefit from any given mission.” Ryoma replied with a hint. “Regardless of who the client is, Suna is equally affected by any given mission completion. One of the Kazekage’s duties is filtering out missions that would be ultimately harmful to Suna’s strategic interests, something normally delegated to someone in administration.”

He crouched slightly, cycled his chakra, and kicked off in time with a flexing of the mk3’s legs. 

One of the main advantages of wearing puppetarmor that was so form-fitting was that his effective physicality was bolstered by his chakra-strings. The strength, speed, and movement of a puppet was based around effective operation via what was essentially wire-guided telekinesis, not his own physicality.

X plus Y. So long as his timing was consistent, his overall physical performance would be directly enhanced by his skill with chakra-strings, and things that could cripple one variable would not usually cripple the other variable- meaning that his overall survivability was also increased.

In short- puppetarmor worked like power armor.

He soared fifty feet into the air, well over the outcrop that should’ve diverted his path, landing on the other side with a heavy stomp that kicked up a wall of dust. He emerged from it at a running pace, immediately in-line with the rest of his team once more. A leap that barely took any effort on his part, one he could do essentially all day without any strain.

“Stop showing off!” Sato complained. Ryoma’s helmet concealed his crooked grin. 

“Most missions accepted have no real strategic benefit to Sunagakure save that someone is paying us to do them.” Ryoma continued without acknowledging his cool little jump. “If a mission this big was approved, then someone in administration decided that its completion will be a net-benefit to Suna. So if you want to figure out why it was accepted, you need to view it from that angle.”

“Angle of completion, huh?” Sato muttered, brows furrowed as he hopped over a creek. “...If we’re attacking Iwa like this… Doesn’t that mean we’re ready to go on the attack against them? We still have Pakura of the Scorch Release, after all…”

“If we’re going on the attack, why would we destroy the bridges before a massed invasion?” Ryoma pointed out with a raised finger. “All that does is slow our own advance into Iwa, and losing the initiative in an invasion would only ramp up the costs involved.”

“Ah- then it's a defensive measure!” Sato proclaimed, punching his palm. “We’re worried about Iwa making moves against us soon- so we’re pre-empting them by destroying the quickest routes for them to resupply in friendly locations.”

“That would also align with the destruction of the village- Naito is aligned with Iwa interests from what intelligence indicates…” Tsubame mused, twirling over a shrub and slide-hopping back into a normal pace. “Destroying it and the bridges would limit Iwa’s ability to resupply near the border, forcing their supply lines to travel several more days in both directions and discouraging aggressive action against Suna until the bridges and settlement can be rebuilt.”

They managed to figure out the ramifications, but not the reason. There’s no intelligence that he was aware of that indicated Iwa was planning to make aggressive moves against Suna, but if they were discouraged from attacking, then Suna would not have to worry about any of its fellow Great Ninja Villages interfering with its upcoming actions. Konoha was allied to them, and Iwa would be on the defense with nearest resupply pushed back by nearly a week. So long as Suna made no further action against either- they were free to do whatever they wished. 

Ryoma decided against explaining this, it probably wasn’t appropriate and the opsec risk if they got captured and interrogated wasn’t really worth it. “Mhm- something like that, for certain.” He agreed with a mild tone. “Might be prudent to start discussing our actual plans for destruction here- how and in what order?”

“My fan is sufficient to destroy each location’s center, but the sprawling nature of the village will leave survivors.” Captain Arada stated bluntly, turning his head slightly to glance at him. “For this reason, you will employ the Kyojutsu to assist in the extermination of the survivors. Allowing any witnesses to flee will compromise the secrecy of the mission.”

A familiar feeling crept up in his chest. Cold and empty. “Are you certain, Team Leader? That would compromise the potential secrecy of the Kyojutsu itself should unforeseen factors interfere and prevent total eradication of the objective.” 

“I am certain.” Captain Arada confirmed sternly. “If unforeseen factors interfere to such an extent, then the Kyojutsu would likely need to be employed regardless to ensure extraction. More importantly, the Kyojutsu will speed the destruction of the objective, allowing the team to extract earlier. It is more wise to employ it than not in this instance.”

So that’s how it was then. He inclined his head shallowly. “I see. And the destruction of the other two locations? We will need to travel several days to reach both.” 

“We will move quickly.” 

“...If I may offer a suggestion, Team Leader. A somewhat niche application of the Summoning Technique would allow me to summon myself to a location, provided I have a sand clone present.” He nodded slightly. “I cannot effectively control the clone at such a distance, but I can send a mental command to it to perform the summon jutsu, which it will perform as soon as the command reaches it many seconds later. I can destroy the furthest bridge and then summon myself to Naito Village, if you can carry my insensate sand clone the distance and keep it alive until it is time to attack.”

“Wait- you can do that with the Summoning Jutsu?!” Sato asked with an amazed expression. “That would cut off days of travel here!”

“For one person, with a high delay, at a predetermined time or signal, requiring a large amount of preparation to actually utilize.” Ryoma added with a shake of his head. Flying Thunder God, it most certainly wasn’t. “It’s a useful facilitator-technique, but niche as I said.”

“I would be unable to protect you after you summon yourself- not until I link up with the rest of the team once more.” Tsubame declared sternly, glaring into the side of his head. “I do not like this plan.”

“I’ll be with Captain Arada and Sato after I summon myself.” Ryoma countered with a shake of his head. “You can escort me to the furthest bridge and then exfiltrate after its destruction, if anything it’s you who will be in the most danger here, moving through Claw Country alone.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, a sharp glare attempting to cut through his solid metal helmet. Naturally, as she didn’t have a doujutsu, her sharp glare was ineffective against his armor.

“Are you certain you are capable of this, Jonin Ryoma?” Captain Arada asked with a firm stare. Ryoma’s reply was interrupted as Arada leapt high into the air, unfolding the immense iron fan on his back and flipping over to stay on top of it. 

The reason for the sudden acrobatics was obvious- with the wide crack in the earth that groaned before them. Smoothly, Ryoma reached out with strings and grabbed both Sato and Tsubame, tossing them hard through the air in a parabolic arc. “Throwing you.” He stated bluntly.

“Wha- AAAHHHHHHH!!!” Sato exclaimed as he tumbled through the air, spinning as he was tossed.

Tsubame let out a slightly more dignified sound as she rightened herself  “Whuh!”

Teammates tossed, Ryoma bent his legs, tensed his thighs, and flexed his feet. A massive, low-angle leap sent him forwards over the gap fast enough to make the wind hiss outside of his helmet. He flipped once through the air, controlling his angles with the strings on his armor, and landing feet-first on the other side. Another massive plume of dust came to life where he impacted, significantly obscuring his vision.

“Catching you.” He called out again. A net of strings extended from his fingers and latched onto his teammates as they fell, correcting their posture and momentum as he started stomping forwards again, out of the cloud of dust. After a few seconds of letting them get accustomed to their new facing, he dropped them to run on their own. 

They were openly glaring at him, brushing themselves off as they dashed alongside him. 

He couldn’t ‘lift’ himself with his chakra strings and thus fly in defiance of gravity, but he could still control himself in the air to a degree with them, namely in angle and positioning. It was somewhat difficult to explain what separated the two types of movement, and he hadn’t figured out all the exact specifics of it quite yet. Everytime he thinks he does, he runs straight into another edge-case interaction that he hadn’t anticipated prior. 

The inventor of Puppetry, Mozaemon, could allegedly fly himself around with puppetry strings no problem, but there was no way of verifying if that was actually true.

The Captain dropped out of the sky in front of them, landing smoothly and resuming his earlier running pace. 

“I’m confident I can do this- I use the technique similar-regularly for mission extractions.” Ryoma replied now that the obstacle had been overcome.

“Hmh. Very well then. You and Jonin Tsubame will travel to Ginseng Bridge and ensure its destruction by no earlier than Friday twenty-three thirty, and no later than twenty four hundred. At twenty four hundred exactly, command your clone to summon yourself to Naito and be prepared to reinforce my attack. After Naito is destroyed, we will proceed to Pao-Pao Bridge and eliminate it as well, then exfiltrate back to Suna.”

Friday huh? Arada was setting a pretty brutal pace for them here. “Understood. When do we split off?”

“Make your preparations now, we will split immediately.” Arada declared with a decisive nod. “Two smaller groups will better slip through whatever border patrols they maintain.”

Ryoma nodded, performing the handseals and expending five motes of chakra. Sand clones always took about one tenth of his total chakra to perform, and he had forty-six motes these days. Twelve personal, thirty two peripheral. Almost immediately, the dust clinging to his form and surrounding their steps swirled together and took his shape.

Clone Ryoma, Cloma, nodded as he ran along. Ryoma quickly unsealed a vial, biting a finger and collecting a few drops before capping it off again and handing it over to the clone to secure. The Summoning Jutsu required a few drops of blood to perform, regardless of what you were summoning, unless you were cheating somehow. 

“Genin- Carry the clone.”

Sato groaned in despair, and Cloma grinned as he angled his run over to him. 

—

“You are troubled.” Tsubame declared much later that night, as they stopped briefly to eat and recuperate. She stared at him with a placid expression, slowly taking a bite of her ration-snack.

“Hm? Troubled?” Ryoma asked with a raised brow, eating another bite of warmed meat from a can. It tasted like salty can meat, which meant it was perfect and nostalgic. “What makes you say that?”

“Your chattering ended as soon as we broke off from group A.” She observed. “And it slowed when Captain Arada commanded you to participate in the destruction of Naito Village.”

Ryoma stared at her blankly for a few moments, slowly chewing his ration of salty can meat as he considered how he should respond. After a few moments, he swallowed, then nodded slowly and looked back down to his food. “Yeah- I suppose I am.” He took another bite, no longer disguising the contemplative look on his face. 

“...Does the threat of the Kyojutsu being revealed bother you that much?”

“Hm? Oh no.” He shook his head. “It’s not that at all. It’s certainly something to consider, but Captain’s reasoning was sound enough to justify the command. I don’t have a particular issue with that.”

“...The destruction of Naito Village itself, then.”

Ryoma was quiet for a few moments, taking another bite of the canned meat. Oh look at that, all gone. He sealed it away into his bulk scroll as he chewed, and moved onto the next meal-item. Dried fruitbar. “Yes, that’s it.” He agreed with a nod after swallowing. “No matter how sound the reasons, or how absolute the strategy, attacking a civilian target isn’t something that I’m going to ever be excited about.”

And yet- it was his plans that may have influenced the Kazekage into ordering this very mission. He didn’t say it was absolutely his fault, because it would be egotistical to assume everything that happens was caused by him, but he was pretty sure.

“They did very little to deserve this, other than having the misfortune to live in this particular place at this particular time.” Ryoma shook his head. “If I am to kill them, I should at least have the decency to do it solemnly- and light a few expensive candles after I get home. Anything less would simply be rude.”

He found himself almost wishing for an interruption that would disrupt their mission here, even if that meant Suna’s position would be slightly worse off for the next phase of the plan. Wishes, of course, wouldn’t do anything here.

‘I wish I didn’t have to kill you.’ Oh wow, thanks a lot, jackass. That made everything better. He rolled his eyes at the thought. 

“I see.” Tsubame replied softly. “...that’s good.”

Ryoma glanced over at her, her gaze downcast at the little candle that served as their current ‘campfire’. Barely more than a single light and a thing to warm ration tins on. 

He huffed, waving a hand. “Eh- don’t worry about it. Instead- think about how fun it’s going to be to blow up the bridge!” He let out a chuckle. “I got explosive tags to spare- if you want to have the honors of charging and detonating them. Let’s aim for the biggest ‘boom’ we can, alright?”

She nodded resolutely, face still blank. 

—

They reached their destination after two more days of mostly silent travel, to the currently unoccupied stone bridge that spanned the immense river. Perhaps more than five hundred feet across, built of immense, solid blocks that rose out of the waters themselves and just barely high enough in the center for ships to pass underneath. 

It was a truly impressive bridge, taking nearly an hour to set all charges along the supports and stay hidden from the occasionally passing merchant at the same time. The explosive seals had been gradually charged as they traveled over the previous days, allowing their reserves to remain more or less at full by the time they were primed and ready to detonate, supported with a handful of explosive tags for good measure.

They elected to stay low and quiet, waiting for almost the last moment to actually trigger the explosion. As soon as the bridge went down, he’d be summoning himself back to the village and get ready to deploy the Mk2.

Hidden in the distance, he crouched next to Tsubame behind a natural earthen mound and under dense shrubbery, staring at the primed stone bridge in the distance. The minutes ticked away on his mental clock, slowly, gradually, until…

It hit midnight. He sent the mental command for his clone to summon him, raising his hands into a seal. Tsubame copied him with a slightly different handseal and command.

“Release.”

“Explosion.”

Almost simultaneously, explosions rippled through the supports keeping the bridge up, stone shattered and groaning as it began to tilt. The bridge itself crumbled in slow motion, breaking up as it toppled and crashed into the swift water below with tremendous splashes. He grinned at the deathless destruction, the childlike joy at seeing something blow up never really getting old. 

He gave Tsubame a thumbs-up. 

A moment later, the command finally reached his clone, many miles away.

Ryoma disappeared in a plume of smoke, and reappeared in another. The air was less humid here, the stars were darker, and the air filled with the smells of city life. A howling hurricane was screaming towards the town in the distance. His sand clone dissolved into dust, chakra expended, and Ryoma raised his thumb to his teeth to bite-

There was too much smoke around. The hurricane crashed into something immense and metallic, slowly growling down and losing power against the smoke-shrouded barrier.

An immense toad loomed between him and the village, massive iron shield in one warty hand and house-eclipsing sword in the other, a speck of bright white on the forehead.

A dramatic voice boomed out boisterously.

“AHAHAH! DON’T YOU KNOW? THE GALLANT JIRAIYA ALWAYS ARRIVES AT THE VERY LAST MOMENT TO SAVE THE DAY!”

Chapter 35

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

Jiraiya of the Sannin, one of three legendary ninja who received their titles from Hanzo himself, for their immense achievement of actually surviving an extended battle against him mostly intact during the Second Ninja War. Student of the Third Hokage, previous leader of Konoha. Teammate to Tsunade and Orochimaru, both equally legendary ninja in their own rights, and mentor of the current Fourth Hokage, who may be the single most dangerous ninja alive. 

“Genin- run to Pao-Pao Bridge immediately, do not stop until you reach it and link up with Jonin Tsubame. Complete the mission and return to Suna from there.” Ryoma ordered harshly, hands immediately going through the seals to produce a sand clone. Dust from the previous clone swirled together again, reforming his shape. Four motes expended. Forty motes remaining. 

Every name in that list was a S-rank ninja by an unquestionable margin. A monster capable of clearing entire battlefields of lesser ninja on their lonesome. Titans of chakra and skill that shaped the rest of the ninja world around their antics.

“But what about-”

“That was a direct order Genin!” Ryoma barked and glared, Sato immediately flinching back and then leaping away. Clone-Ryoma, Cloma, leapt forwards towards the source of the horizontal hurricane as the giant toad continued to loom in the distance. Ryoma reached into his vest-pocket and withdrew a chakra pill, immediately crunching down and swallowing the fruit, nut, and meth mixture. Almost immediately his reserves started to noticeably replenish, hypercharged by the drug. 

Jiraiya ‘The Gallant’ was known for two main patterns of behavior. The first was his lecherous attitude, visiting whorehouses, spying on women’s bathhouses, writing fairly popular smut-adventure stories, and similar. The second thing he was famous for was butting his head into missions and situations that had nothing to do with him or his village and immediately throwing himself into supporting one side according to his moral sense. 

The second thing made him immensely frustrating for most villages to negotiate with. Ryoma whipped out his field-scroll, rolling it across the ground in front of himself and starting to unseal components. He threw his bulky outer jacket off, hurriedly grabbing accessories and locking them into place on the mk3’s frame.

Cloma landed next to Captain Arada, who stood with iron fan unfolded, glaring at the giant toad in the distance. “...Jiraiya…” The old ninja growled, before glancing in his direction. “Jonin- where’s the genin?!”

“I ordered him to evacuate the region and complete the last objective.” Cloma quickly responded, withdrawing a pair of kunai in defensive posture. “The Kyojutsu has yet to be employed, employing it now will absolutely compromise its security now that Jiraiya has appeared on the field. What are your orders?”

Arada glared at the giant toad in the distance, before huffing. “We will attempt negotiations. If negotiations fail, be prepared to support me against the Sannin for as long as you can. Collateral damage will have to suffice for partial mission completion. Do not employ the Kyojutsu under any circumstances.”

Ryoma was afraid he was going to say that. Arada leapt forwards, jumping twice and landing just to the side of the immense groove his wind had carved into the earth. Cloma leapt to follow, landing next to him in a crouching, ready stance. The immense toad leaned forwards to look at them, planting its toad-knuckles into the ground to kneel, still holding its massive sword, and tilting a huge eye down. 

On top of its head, the tall, white-haired form of Jiraiya stood with one leg raised. Locked into a dramatic kabuki pose and grinning down at them, palms facing towards them and fingers splayed wide. 

“Jiraiya of Konoha! Our mission calls for the destruction of this village! Do not interfere!” Arada boomed out, clearly abandoning the optional objective of secrecy in the process. He slammed the end of his iron fan down. 

In many ways, Ryoma was very glad that Jiraiya was here, making his team leader abandon the need to totally wipe out the village to maintain secrecy. That meant he didn’t need to deploy the Mk2 to stomp a small town worth of civilians to death. Not yet, at least. Perhaps ironically, the Mk2 was explicitly designed for that kind of work, built as a prototype for a model designed to annihilate the hordes of plant-zombies that were coming in the future apocalypse.

Of course, a design suited to wipe out hordes of plant-zombies was also very applicable to wiping out hordes of normal people, something that Ryoma didn’t quite realize while designing and constructing it. Shame on him for not picking up on the fact that a giant puppet built to stomp armies to death and break through fortified lines would be useful for other things too.

Jiraiya being here meant he could avoid at least one more instance of that in his lifetime. Unfortunately, it also meant that they were likely about to get their teeth kicked in by one of the most legendary ninja to ever live. 

“Haaaah?” Jiraiya boomed back, leaning forwards on the toad’s head and raising a hand to his ear. “Is that Arada the Typhoon I hear down there? I thought that crusty old bastard would’ve died drinking his morning tea by now!”

“Interference in our mission can only damage the alliance made between our villages!” Arada continued with a booming rumble in his voice. “Are you prepared for that?!”

The legendary ninja pretended to consider that for a few moments, rubbing his chin with one hand. After several moments, he nodded firmly and shouted back. “I’ll swing by Suna and apologize to your Kazekage afterwards- but this village has some really beautiful women! There’s no way I can let you destroy it!” Then, the white-haired legend swiped his hands in a brushing motion down at them. “Run off and do something else, will ya?”

That declaration that he would apologize afterwards could very easily be taken as a direct threat. Arada’s face was already hardened into a stony countenance. “...Assist me, Jonin.” He declared, pulling his fan back. “Wind Release-!”

Cloma dropped his kunai and flashed through handseals. “Fire Release-!”

Jiraiya tapped a foot against the giant toad’s brow. “Gamabushi- Water please!”

“Storm God’s Sword!” Arada roared out as he swung his fan, an immense, howling tornado immediately twisting to lift and speeding forwards, deepening the immense groove in the earth as it tore its way forwards.

“Fireball!” Cloma called out, spitting a relatively modest ball of fire from his mouth and towards the massive, destructive tornado speeding towards the giant toad. Wind chakra strengthened fire chakra. Immediately the tornado was set alight, turning into a twisting column of fire that went from earth to sky and illuminating the world like a miniature sun. 

Immediately, Arada leapt to the side, sticking to the shadows as he moved to flank around the giant toad. “Jonin- with me.” He hissed out lowly, Cloma following immediately. 

The immense, burning tornado continued to race forwards, tearing a burning line in the earth beneath it. The cheeks of the giant toad bulged momentarily. Slightly muffled by the mouthful, the immense voice of the toad rumbled over the sound of the scorching tornado.

“Water Bullet!”

A bolt of water, hundreds of thousands of gallons of it, was spat out by the toad, colliding with the bulk of the burning tornado. Almost immediately the world exploded into steam, both the burning tornado and the burst of water destructively cancelling each other out and shrouding the earth in their wake. Exceptionally good concealment for any ninja to operate it. 

With a new vantage point, Arada twisted to swing his fan again-

He twisted again, leaping back and away as Jiraiya’s sandaled foot smashed down on the rock he was just standing on. The boulder cracked loudly at the impact, slowly sliding apart as the legendary ninja rose back to his full and rather intimidating height before them. 

“Gamabushi!” Jiraiya called out, tilting his head slightly to the side but gaze locked on them. “Prepare to intercept any jutsu that might hit the village, please!”

“Hmh. That is the way of the warrior.” The massive toad responded, voice booming and earth shaking as it took several massive steps through the field of steam. “I will not resent a request such as that, Jiraiya-bushi.”

“I’d really just suggest retreating.” He continued, nodding towards them. “I’ll kill you if I have to, but there’s no need for anyone to die today. I’m sure this mission isn’t worth your lives.”

“This mission is critical to secure Sunagakure’s future.” Arada countered plainly. “For the sake of our future, I am more than ready to lay down my life.”

“Something somewhere went seriously sideways if your future depends on killing a bunch of bystanding civilians and tempting another war.” Jiraiya shot back with a deep frown and grumble in his voice. “What’s going on over in Wind Country that something like this got approved?”

Arada responded with a much shallower wave of his fan, sending a buffeting wave of wind forwards. Cloma dashed to the side, tossing a handful of shuriken as he moved to flank. 

Jiraiya leapt over the wave of twisting winds, hands flashing through seals as he spun into a kick to bounce the shuriken away. “Earth Release : Underworld Swamp!”

Cloma’s eyes widened, and he immediately jumped as far up and away as he could. Arada did the same, rising high above the steam and twisting his fan beneath himself.

Beneath them, for hundreds of feet in all directions, the ground turned into noxious, bubbling mud. Trees and rocks almost immediately sank into the newborn swamp, the landscape itself clearing out into smooth and trackless bog. There was nowhere for him to land.

Arada caught his hand as he began to fall, swinging him up and around to stand on the fan as they glided over the immense black stretch of earth. A battlefield reshaped completely in a single jutsu.

Cloma performed a long series of handseals, kneeling down on the fan and staring down at the shock of white hair on the field below. Jiraiya was standing on a lone pillar of rock, staring up at them with an unreadable expression from this distance, illuminated by the bright moon. After an eleventh seal, he called out his jutsu.

“Earth Release : Practice Brick Technique.” A D-rank justu he had learned to diversify his lineup of techniques, the very simple jutsu took a section of earth within a fairly generous distance near the user and raised it in relatively fragile rectangular sections. Normally it was used to make walls for quick cover. 

Below them, dozens of earth pillars rose from the otherwise inhospitable swamp in a four meter by four meter grid pattern. Arada flipped his fan around as Cloma dissolved into sand, falling out of the sky and landing on one of the pillars. 

From the distance, more and more earth pillars began to rise out of the ground, letting a more-laden Cloma leap forwards upon them to cross the swamp and return to Arada’s side. One hand burdened by a bulky gauntlet and the other occupied with carrying a trio of Bolters in the air over his head. 

“Toad Oil Bullet!” Like an improvised artillery piece, the legendary ninja leaned back and began to shoot massive globs of oil out of his mouth, which arced through the air in a pattern that would saturate their position entirely. 

Cloma’s gauntlet folded back and his bolters dropped out of the air, biting a thumb and flashing through handseals. “Summoning : Rashomon!” Three motes expended, clone had one mote left. 

Immediately they were engulfed in smoke, a massive earth wall appearing before them and rising thirty meters high. The wall was, in truth, an immense stone gate with its face carved into the shape of a demon’s grimace. Something Ryoma made in mimicry of the real Rashomon Gates through the use of practice brick technique and a whole lot of time. 

Using the jutsu to make a barrier this big would be massively expensive in the moment, to the point that summoning it in was tremendously cheaper. And once he had decided to summon in a giant stone wall, he decided he might as well blatantly copy the ‘real deal’ with his design. The real Rashomon Gates were either built or found by the First Hokage of Konoha, and Ryoma had no idea how to get his hands on a contract for those.

Fortunately for his purposes, a fake Rashomon was basically as good as a real Rashomon. Oil bombs crashed into the outlet face of the massive stone gate, even as the gate began to slowly sink into the dark swamp below. Keeping the ‘splash zone’ on the outer face like this would prevent Jiraiya from using it to set their scant ‘safe’ terrain on fire.

He caught his bolters before they fell into the mud, bringing them back up over his head and letting the gauntlet fold forwards again. “The objective is looking fairly untenable at the moment, Captain.” Cloma grunted, eyes dating between the top and the side of the fake Rashomon as it slowly slid into the earth. Where was he going to attack from?

“He’s utilized several high ranking jutsu already.” Arada grunted, eyes narrow and body still as he watched the top and other side. “The longer this battle goes on, the greater the advantage grows in our favor. Simply endure.”

Ryoma really didn’t think they were going to outpace Jiraiya the Toad Sage on chakra capacity anytime soon, even if they weren’t using as many expensive jutsu as he was. 

Any further talk was cut off as a shape leapt over the top of the Rashomon gate, towards them. A hail of bolter-fire filled the target with poisoned needles, making it burst into smoke and reveal itself to be a rapidly-burning sphere of some kind. Arada swung a fan, a wave of wind carrying the sphere up and away just in time for it to explode violently in the air. 

A blurring shape appeared around the side of the gate, holding a violently spiraling orb of chakra and shooting towards Arada’s side. Arada fell back on his earth spire, barely avoiding the intimidatingly purring ball of condensed energy and swinging up and around, folding his fan as he did so. 

The side smashed into the figure’s underbelly, practically folding it before smashing it up through the air. Arada stabilized and unfolded his fan, ready to attack the-

-puff of smoke. A clone. 

A second Jiraiya blurred out from the side, following shortly in the wake of the first with yet another ball of spiraling chakra in hand. A hail of bolter-fire deflected by simply holding the orb up and letting the sphere of energy grind thin metal rods to dust unheeded. 

Arada swiftly leapt back, the spiralling ball smashing into the earth pillar he once stood upon and shredding it immediately, a wave of dust covering their little battlefield and obscuring them once more. Cloma fired bolters into the position until they ran empty, chasing the blurs in the dust and then sending the three disposable puppets forwards to explode. 

A sound behind him. He twisted into a heavy haymaker.

The Toad Sage caught Cloma’s arm and twisted.

Many meters away, Ryoma blinked as the second clone suddenly stopped existing. He rolled his shoulders and rose from his hidden position, as prepared as he was ever going to be. A layer of heavy black sand covered his form, and he began to run down towards the equally-dark swamp. He twisted himself sideways, jumping and landing on the side of the earth pillars before using them as stepping stones to race forwards.

Despite his regular use of jutsu, the chakra pill ensured he was still nearly full. A later crash was more than worth the current increase in battlefield endurance. 

In the distance, another hurricane bloomed to life, kicking up waves of drowning mud and shredding the back of the Rashomon gate in the process. 

He narrowed his eyes, continuing to race forwards and rapidly gaining visual clarity upon the scene. 

Arada and Jiraiya were engaged in ferocious hand-to-hand combat, Arada using his immense iron warfan deftly to defend and prevent himself from being overwhelmed by the heavy hands of the much taller ninja currently bullying him into a corner of the spires. 

He triggered the flare launcher on his right bicep with a thought and a twitch of his toes, sending a trio of hissing red stars into the sky to hang above the battlefield, illuminating everything clearly for many feet. The wind-shiki thrusters on his legs triggered with another twitch and thought, sending him racing forwards in one incredibly fast leap.

The Toad Sage glanced towards him, twisting into a kick that sent Arada flipping back to crash against the sinking Rashomon. A moment later Jiraiya had turned into a stance clearly intended to intercept him again. 

“Don’t block!” Ryoma roared, bringing an arm back and aligning his muscles with his frame. A pair of wires shot out from thigh-mounted attachments, grounding him to the rock pillar beneath the Toad Sage’s feet. His thrusters twisted and fired again.

Just before impact, Ryoma’s momentum had entirely changed, suddenly going up and over the legendary ninja’s head. Jiraiya’s eyes followed him up, widening as the intercepting stance changed into a hasty block.

Ryoma’s gauntlet, heavy and built explicitly for punching things, crashed into the Toad Sage’s crossed arms.

A blink, and a line of pillars shattered violently, falling into the mud as the legendary ninja smashed through half a dozen. Just before the final line of pillars, Jiraiya caught himself and swung around, unsteadily flipping up and righting himself once more. This left him completely open to Arada who would-

An iron fan smashed into his side. “Move, young fool!” 

He hadn’t been watching for an attack from his ally, of all people.

Ryoma flew back, wires dislodging and side bruising with the impact. He skipped over one pillar, then landed properly, swinging around to bleed off momentum. He coughed, focusing his gaze up-

-Just in time to see Arada ensnared in a warty tongue, thrashing violently as he was pulled into a little frog-shaped gourd. The gourd shook violently three times, before stilling as a cork slotted itself back into place on the ‘mouth’ of the frog.

“I’ll give you one thing, you certainly pack a punch.” The Toad Sage declared, wiping off the side of his mouth as he rose to his full height. Ryoma barely turned his head to face him, keeping his gaze firmly on the frog-gourd through the puppet-eyes that lined the side of his hat. “Your leader is currently stuck in my Toad Gourd Prison, however, and there's no way out of that from the inside.”

Ryoma breathed out slowly, the distinct feeling of sweat on his temple and nerves in his gut as he rose again. New mission parameters, retrieve the toad-gourd containing his team leader and extract immediately.

“I’d offer to set him free, but I feel like that’ll just start this fight over again.” The Toad Sage continued with a grim look on his face. “And you- I’ll be frank- don’t seem strong enough to get through me and free him.”

“No, you’re entirely correct.” Ryoma replied, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. “I’m not strong enough for that- I am, however, obligated to try.”

Jiraiya stared at him for a couple seconds longer, before sighing and shaking his head, raising his fists. “I guess that’s just how it is, huh?”

“I do, however, have to thank you.” Ryoma continued, mind racing with ideas for how the fuck he was going to achieve this. 

“For what?”

“For changing the parameters of my mission so thoroughly. I really wasn’t excited by the order to kill civilians, so you showing up was pretty nice that way.” Ryoma raised his own fists, slowly debating on if he had time to pull some bolters out. “Now, I just have to retrieve my Team Leader and extract as fast as possible.”

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes, before letting a rueful smile cross his face. “I’ll try not to beat you too badly, kid.”

Ryoma had the feeling he was about to be beaten very badly. 

Interlude 16

Naito Village

Jiraiya of the Sannin, Jonin of Konohagakure

Ryoma the Braggart. Jonin of Sunagakure, suspected ANBU. Participated in the Third Ninja War in a frontline position immediately after graduation, utilizing a wide variety of ninja techniques native to Suna including puppets, poisons, explosives, and ninjutsu. Key participant in the Golden Tea affair, and one-time messenger of critical strategic intelligence to Konoha.

Jiraiya kept his fists raised, even as he slowly stepped across the wide gaps between the earth pillars. Smart of the kid to counter his Underworld Swamp in such a way. Opposite to him, the Braggart slowly moved in a counter-circle, fists also raised in a firm and direct stance. Bundles of wood and metal stuck fast to various parts of his body, some sort of puppet contraptions.

Normally, a puppeteer would need to use their hands to control a puppet, and the Braggart’s hands were occupied with holding onto the nasty gauntlets of his. These must be controlled in some other manner, but he didn’t immediately see how. “Not going to try to stop me? I’m getting closer to the gourd, you know?” Jiraiya asked with a half-serious grin. “Didn’t you say something about getting your Team Leader back and getting out of here?”

He really wanted to just outright ask what was going on down in Wind country, but they didn’t give him a straight answer last time he tried that. Most recent intelligence indicated that they were being squeezed a bit by their Daimyo, but still had more than enough funding to last well more than a decade. With the Konoha alliance, they should be more open to missions in Tea, Grass, and Hotsprings. Furthermore, Minato had already confessed his plans to suggest more frequent shared operations to alleviate some of their funding issues and strengthen the alliance. 

More than a decade of funding left at minimum and things looking up for them in the long term- why were they making moves into Iwa now? Jiraiya needed more info. 

The braggart tilted his head, the eye-rimmed hat and glaring lenses over the pure white shroud giving him a distinctly creepy vibe. “The bomb has already been planted.”

Jiraiya’s eyes widened slightly, flashing down to see-

-nothing. He swung his hair around, channeling chakra through it as he did, and hands smashing into a set of seals. “Needle Jizo!” 

A fluffy white barrier of iron-hard, sharpened hair covered his form just in time for another barrage of senbon to smash into it and bounce off. They had been fired from the blocky tubes mounted on his opponent’s hips. One eye peered through the extended armor of iron-sharp hair, seeing the Braggart flip back to hang over the side of the pillar while pulling a scroll out of his vest.

The armor was new, from the last time Jiraiya looked at the kid’s file back in Konoha a couple years back. He still wasn’t sure of all its tricks yet. The giant fake Rashomon was also new- and Jiraiya knew it was fake because Orochimaru could summon the real things.

Sarutobi gave each of them one jutsu from the Forbidden scroll, a reward for something or another. Jiraiya had picked up his first Hair-Technique from that, Tsunade had picked something else that he didn’t remember, and Orochimaru had chosen the flashy Rashomon gates. They sounded different on impact, metal instead of stone. 

His hair slowly untangled from around his body, one long tendril snaking over to delicately grab the Toad Gourd and hand it over to him. He would keep the jutsu running, but it and Underworld Swamp at the same time was really too costly. He tied the gourd to his belt as the Braggart pulled back up from the side of the pillar he had been hanging from, three new stickbug-like puppets dangling from a set of strings on his left hand. The gauntlet there had folded back and locked over his forearm, leaving the hand free. 

“All that just to pull some puppets out?” Jiraiya smiled. “I probably would’ve just let you, if you asked nicely.” No he wouldn’t have.

“No you wouldn’t have.” 

Damn, this kid was good, huh?

“You should feel honored, Jiraiya the Sannin. You’re the first person who gets to face my new and improved Bolters.” The Braggart declared, gesturing towards him with a low fist. 

“Oh yeah- what’s new and improved with them, huh?” Jiraiya asked, cracking his neck and widening his stance. 

“I added a canister of compressed air so they can hiss in an intimidating fashion.” He declared dramatically.

True to his words, the floating, rectangular stickbugs started to make little hissing noises at him. Jiraiya stared at them for a few seconds longer, before raising a brow. “...Is that it?” He asked with an unimpressed tone.

“You’d be surprised how much mileage I’ve been getting out of it.” The Braggart confessed, returning to a combat stance. “Ninja get jumpy when something hisses near their ears.” The fact that he was telling Jiraiya this could mean two things. Either the statement was pure truth and the compressed air didn’t actually do anything, or the compressed air was actually dangerous in some way. Either way, Jiraiya was going to be forced to treat it as a serious threat just in case it actually was.

Yeah, he could see how one could get some serious work out of that. “So I'm not the first one to face it, huh?”

“You’re right, I lied.”

Unexpectedly, the braggart twisted slightly, dodging the Shadow Clone swinging up behind him with a kunai. An unexpectedly swift turn spun him around before the clone could adjust its aim, and a gauntleted fist smashed into the side of its head. 

Instantly, the Shadow Clone dispelled, shrouding the Braggart in its residual smoke. Jiraiya wasn’t really surprised by that part- his arms were still feeling fuzzy from the hit the kid got in earlier. Like Tsunade handing out little baby lovetaps, the kid hit hard. 

No, the surprising part was that he noticed the shadow clone’s approach at all. He hadn’t earlier, what had changed? Jiraiya jumped to the side, avoiding the handful of kunai that whizzed towards him, tags on their handles burning in the red flare-light. A moment later, they impacted the pillar he had been standing on and went off explosively. 

He was forced to keep moving, as a rain of kunai laden with explosive seals followed him from three wide angles on the other side of the arena of rock pillars. The hissing of compressed air barely audible over the chain of explosions following his steps. If he remembered right, they liked to explode after someone got close.

He reached up to pluck a handful of white hairs, stiffening and sharpening them with chakra as he flipped over another line of exploding shots. His ears were beginning to ring from all the booms the braggart was throwing around. A quick toss, and a burst of improvised needles hissed through the night, smashing into the side and back of one Bolter. 

Just enough chakra and damage to disrupt the storage seal at the back. It stopped firing kunai at him immediately. He checked around the area as he flipped, spotting a glimpse of another Braggart clinging to the side of the pillars opposite to him. That must be how he reacted to the shadow clone earlier- an extra set of eyes from an unexpected angle.

Another flip and two more tosses of plucked hair disabled the other two. The entire outer edge of the pillars had been destroyed in the process of avoiding the explosive rain, shrinking their area and forcing them closer to one another. 

The braggart let the bolters slowly descend, settling them down gently on top of their respective pillars with a long and low hiss. Kid had a flair for the dramatics, huh? Jiraiya made a note to avoid those pillars. 

“What exactly were you trying to accomplish there, kid? All you did was shrink the area.” Jiraiya grinned, crouching slightly and getting prepared to move again.

“Shrinking the area.” The braggart replied plainly, getting into a running stance faced directly towards him.

Jiraiya smirked, matching the pose. So he wanted to engage in a little bit of Taijutsu, huh? “You sure you want to get into a brawl with me, kid?” If he got up close, Jiraiya would just need a single opening to trap him with his hair or toss him over the side, either would end the fight entirely. 

He would need to be careful of those haymakers though…

They stared at each other silently for a few long seconds, the flares finally about to touch the swamp. Once they hit, the night would return to its previous level of darkness. Five meters. Three meters. One meter.

The red light disappeared. 

They met in the middle of the area, fists smashing into forearms as they struck and blocked simultaneously. A burst of chakra through his knuckles shattered the gauntlet and cracked the armor beneath- a technique that Tsunade could do much better than him. A rasengan would’ve just taken the limb off entirely- but that was a bit much right now.

He grit his teeth feeling the impact against his own forearm, even through the layer of mesh and padding, needing to stick himself to the pillar below just to hold himself in place from the force. The Braggart was way stronger than a kid his age should be.

He twisted his hand around to grab the Braggart’s wrist- the Braggart chopped the hand down and up to smash his knuckles into the crook of Jiraiya’s arm. 

Jiraiya’s arm bent and his fingers extended, hooking onto the arm as he pulled back and raised a knee.

The Braggart collapsed forwards at the waist as Jiraiya’s knee met his stomach. Jiraiya pulled back to-

The Braggart’s hand clutched around his wrist. In defiance of any momentum, the Braggart rapidly spun on his heel, carrying Jiraya around and twisting down.

Jiraiya grunted as his back shattered through a pillar, smashing through layer of packed earth with his spine. He threw himself forwards into a handstand and up- his wooden sandals smashing against the Braggart’s helmet with a heavy boom. 

He flipped over in the air as he rose, readying a sweeping kick as he turned. Head knocked back, the Braggart was unable to avoid the kick, and-

-Immediately twisted, impossibly changing his momentum to avoid the kick and smashing his own heel into Jiraiya’s side. 

Jiraiya wheezed as he flew to the side, rolling through the air as he did, breath knocked from his lungs. The puppeteer was somehow puppeteering himself via that armor- changing his momentum and positioning almost in an instant. It was throwing off all the normal rules of hand to hand combat that Jiraiya was familiar with.

It was a pretty nasty trick.

He grabbed the wire before it could pull the Toad-Gourd away from his belt, twisting around and landing on his feet at the edge of the area, grinning as he did. A few pillars away, the Braggart’s upper face exposed from the kick Jiraiya had just landed, having torn away his hat and goggles to reveal the hair, eyes, and bridge of the nose.

About half a bloodstained face stared at him, hair and brow soaked in sweat and a gush of blood covering one eye. 

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes. “...Have we met before? You look familiar, kid.” He could’ve sworn he’s seen this face before.

The kid’s eyes were pretty expressive, blinking at him confusedly. Where had he seen this face before? “I don’t- I don’t think so? Maybe during the Third War- I was told you killed my sensei at some point.” 

A flash of regret shot through him, followed by mild confusion. “...Did I?” He wasn’t all that active on the Konoha-Suna front during the Third War. “Well- I’m sorry about that, in any case.”

“Eh- It was a war and we were on opposite sides.” The kid shrugged slightly. “I probably killed someone close to you at some point during it- I’d be a hypocrite to get upset.”

…Man, what the hell were they teaching those kids down in Suna? That kind of apathy… He was glad the kid wasn’t mad at him for it- but the kid should be mad at him for something like that.

“Anyways. I’m about to win, in case you wanted to just hand over the Gourd so I can run away first.” The Braggart declared, raising a finger and pointing at him.

Jiraiya raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I’ve known about your sand clone down near the pillars for a while now, kid.” He tugged on the wire connected to the kid’s thigh-mounted contraption. He was more than ready to deal with it.

“Oh?” The kid’s eyes narrowed smugly. Layers of sand began to slough off his body. Jiraiya’s eyes widened. “Then do you know about the poison gas that the Bolters have been releasing this whole time too?” The apparently-real Braggart jumped up from the side, hands flashing through seals and chest expanding.

Poison? He hadn’t noticed any change in his performance so far.He took a quick sniff, immediately fixating his attention on the air around himself. But he hasn’t been anywhere near the-

When he was smashed through the pillar. He ripped the wire towards him, attempting to snap it off the mounting. The distinct scent of…

…That wasn’t poison. That was gas. Like a bog-swamp ready to blow- he hadn’t noticed the sharper scent before thanks to his own Underworld Swamp already stinking up the place. 

“Fire Release-!”

Kid had turned the region of the pillars into a gas-bomb. Jiraiya gave a little smile, letting go of the gourd to free up both hands. The kid immediately started to reel the gourd in, leaning back and unzipping his flak vest.

“-Fireball!” 

Jiraiya finished his handseals before the kid did, despite starting later. A hot fireball came from the second Braggart’s lips, racing down to the area near the first discarded puppet. Immediately after, it dissolved into free-falling sand. A bluff there- how was the kid going to protect himself in the middle of the blast…?

“Needle Jizo.” 

A shield of white needles completely surrounded him, closing in an impenetrable barrier. Just as it closed around his eyes, he saw the fireball set the air ablaze, and a seal revealed on the kid’s chest.

Dharma-style dualistic fire-nature aligned chakra storage seal. One of those fire-eaters the kid had developed.

Jiraiya smirked as he was completely engulfed. A moment later, a deafening boom and sweltering heat enveloped him. 

A few seconds later, his hair slowly pulled away from around him, massive scorched clumps of it falling out and into the swamp below. He was alone on the pillar- the other pillars blackened and scorched. The kid was… Jiraiya cast his gaze around, listening carefully.

…There he was, running away from the about as fast as he could, armor crumbling and jumps unsteady. Jiraiya briefly considered dismissing the Toad Gourd, allowing it to return to Mount Myoboku and thus maintain his hold over the prisoner, but dismissed the idea after a moment.

His goal was mostly just to protect the village, not capture or hurt either of them. He’d let the Gourd dismiss itself- once it was empty again. He stopped maintaining the Underworld Swamp, thus ending its ‘sticky’ properties and letting it return to being normal earth again. 

Behind him, the immense fake-Rashomon disappeared in a massive burst of smoke, half-eaten by the chakra-rich swamp and leaving an immense space in the earth. A space that was rapidly refilled with surrounding soil. 

“Not a bad performance for a kid, eh, Gamabushi?” Jiraiya called out, shaking out his arms and hopping across the shattered pillars over to the spectating toad. His limbs still ached from the beating they had taken, and he probably needed to invest in slightly more armor. Maybe another layer of mesh and thick kimono for the torso?

The puppet-suit there- it increased the kid’s mobility, so it stood to reason that it could increase the Braggart’s physical strength as well. That must be why he was hitting so hard- Jiraiya was actually being punched by a Jonin and a puppet at the same time.

“Indeed, Jiraiya-bushi. He will be a fine warrior in time.” The immense toad rumbled, bringing a hand down and allowing him to jump up onto it. The toad croaked as he brought the hand up, letting Jiraiya jump across and sit on his head again.

“Still, an attack like this is really troublesome…” Jiraiya muttered to himself, rubbing at his chin. “I need to head over to Wind and ask around some, after this. What changed to make them so aggressive against Iwa here?”

“The hot winds of change, flows over sands and sunsets, shattering the earth.” The old toad rumbled, planting the tip of his sword in the earth and slowly turning his head to spot any further attackers.

Jiraiya chuckled. “Right back to the haiku, eh Gamabushi?”

“It is the way of the warrior, cra-roak, cra-roak.”

He laughed, leaning back on the toad’s head and taking several deep breaths, filling his lungs with non-toxic air. As far back as… the very first moment, really- that’s when the kid started setting up that final trap. Most ninja couldn’t think that far ahead in the moment, it was a credit to his tactical ability to pull something like that off at all. 

He frowned, crossing his legs, propping an elbow on his knee, and resting his chin on his palm.

He had seen that face before- but where?

“We’ll remain vigilant over the village until Iwa ninja arrive to start defending it, alright Gamabushi?” He called out, reaching down to give the toad’s head some heavy pats. “It’ll probably be a few days, so sorry about that.”

“No need, Jiraiya-bushi. This too, is the way of the warrior. Cra-roak.”

Good old reliable Gamabushi. Always ready to spend days defending something with him.

Chapter 36

Claw Country

Ryoma, Jonin

Left arm gauntlet shattered, panopticon helmet shattered, front torso armor cracked. He was pretty sure that he was suffering fractures in all of those areas as well, but the chakra pill made it hard to tell at the moment. 

He jumped again, leaping over a broad expanse of terrain and wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs and arm when he landed. He did not let himself stop moving, tucking the toad-gourd under one arm and withdrawing a scroll. It was getting difficult to keep the fingers on his damaged arm moving, which would cripple his ability to perform handseals. 

He scrolled through the… scroll. Eventually he reached the slot in question, tapped a thumb on the slot, and withdrew a medical pill. He forced his damaged mask open and crunched it down as he leapt again. 

The pill was a general utility pain killer, antibiotic, and metabolic booster. The pain killer and antibiotic components were self explanatory, but the metabolic booster actually increased the rate at which ninja healed by a fractional but measurable percent. Primary ingredients of the medical pill included garlic extract, caffeine, honey for taste, and opium. 

It wasn’t anything near what an actual medical ninjutsu could do, but it would keep him functional long enough to catch up, complete the objective, and then crash hard. 

Surprising no one, Jiraiya of the Sannin hit very hard. Ryoma was going to be feeling this for a while after. He glanced down at the Toad Gourd, staring up at him with unblinking and unimpressed eyes, and briefly considered trying to figure out how to unseal Captain Arada right now. 

On one hand, it would give him strong backup to aid extraction. On the other hand, he was still pretty close to the village, and getting Arada out right now might just provoke counter-orders to go back and complete the objective, undoing all his hard work to retrieve him from the Toad Sage. Ryoma really didn’t feel like letting that happen, so the best move would be to catch up to Sato and be far enough away that the Captain declares the objective infeasible before trying to figure out how to unseal him. 

He tucked the scroll back into his flak vest, carefully testing all of his fingers as a numbness began to slowly spread out through his chest. His subsequent leaps and dashes through the Claw countryside provoked slightly less pain than before. 

It would be a full day and a half before they reached the next objective, and he was going to crash long before that. Once he had crashed, he’d be pretty useless for the rest of the mission. 

First, he needed to find and link up with Sato again. The Mk2 had a Sensor-Shiki with a range of about three kilometers mounted in the cockpit, but summoning it into this situation was explicitly against Arada’s orders, and probably not for the best regardless. He should really get around to learning how to perform that jutsu on his own, tactical information was always going to be useful.

In the meanwhile…

He bit his thumb, forcing his hands through the right signs and palmed the ground as he landed. “Summoning, Great Bolter!” 

The basic bolter was a masterpiece of technical refinement. Ryoma was pretty sure he was never going to top the utility of something so cheap, disposable, and omni-useful. Even the upgraded bolters that incorporated poison gas canisters weren’t strictly an upgrade with the increased cost. 

The ‘Great Bolter’ design was perhaps the complete opposite of the basic bolter. It was a big expensive puppet that contained everything he knew about various ninja arts. The primary reason that it existed at all was so he could have something like the mk1 without needing permission to pull out the mk2, a great big puppet full of expensive things that let him fight lots of weaker ninja and smaller summons. 

He had three great bolters currently stored in a workshop-bunker underneath the inn.

He landed on the top of a massive wooden frame, three meters tall, three meters wide, and five meters long. It contained an armored box that connected to six blocky legs, a swivel mount on top to hold a large cannon-adjacent structure, several eyes built along the sides, and a decent amount of interior space for him to hide in. 

It was basically a tank with legs. He slipped through the hatch in the roof and settled into the ‘drivers’ seat below, groaning with the motion and reaching out with strings to take control. His vision expanded out omnidirectionally once more, and the legs flexed to push the massive puppet into a standing position.

Then, the legs folded in and the wheels folded out, turning the wooden tank with legs into a wooden tank with wheels. Another application of his strings, and the rotor for each set of wheels began to turn, driving the Great Bolter onwards through the countryside without an engine. 

The roads were very bumpy and his suspension wasn’t great. He was very glad that he couldn’t feel much at the moment. He focused on breathing as he drove along towards the final objective, disregarding most stealth for simply moving faster and with less strain at the moment. 

As big and comparatively loud as the Great Bolter was- it was massively more quiet than any conventional vehicle, mostly because it didn’t need an engine of any kind and was mostly wood by weight. Only a thin layer of steel plating on the exterior, the joints, and frame were actually metal, making it quite a bit lighter than it should be as a result. 

He twitched the single-bulb electric light on, near the back of the interior. 

Great Bolters were only barely worth building, being a great big target with limited mobility and armor only thick enough to bounce off low grade attacks. All the same old problems that the old Wood Dragoon had, but worse because they were somewhat larger and not quite as bad because they were much faster overland. He had been thinking of making a flying model using propellers, but experimenting with flight wasn’t something he had much time for recently. 

He could save flight for the mk2 of the Great Bolters. 

The inner frame rocked like a ship in a stormy sea as the legs unfolded and the Great Bolter jumped, aided by onboard shiki-thrusters, clearing a section of broken road and smashing back onto the ground beyond it, clumsily shifting back to wheeled mode afterwards. Tools and utensils behind him clattered, and the bedframes rocked about noisily. 

The interior was essentially a micro apartment. With no need to account for an engine, he could fit in all his quality of life features like one bed, some storage, and a single stovetop. 

He continued to roll along the road that was in no way designed to handle a vehicle of this scale, keeping an eye out for-

Ah, there he is. 

The Great Bolter pushed out its legs again, slamming clawed hands into the ground as it skid to a stop along the road, leaving grooves in the earth as it did. Ryoma rocked around in the command chair as it did, eventually coming to a stop with vision swimming. 

Shaking the dust out of his ears, he pushed up from the seat and popped out the hatch. “Sato! Get in!” He called out to the dark wilderness. “Forty-seven-B” He called out the predesignated password.

A few moments later, the ever-squinting genin poked his head out of some distant foliage. “Ryoma- what the hell is that?!”

“Puppet-transport! Get in, we need to move!” He growled, sliding back down into the command chair immediately after. A few moments after, the nervous genin landed on the top of the Great Bolter, cautiously moving to the hatch and poking his head through. After a moment of nervous inspection, he slipped through. Ryoma made the hatch slam closed behind him, immediately pulling the legs of the Great Bolter up and spinning the wheels along again. 

“Eah-!” Sato exclaimed as he was rocked by the sudden acceleration, balancing himself out after a moment. “What th- there’s a whole apartment in here! Did you make a train with legs?!”

“More or less.” Ryoma grunted, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, the numbness had already reached his head. He grabbed the Toad Gourd from under his arm and tossed it back. “-Captain Arada is sealed in that- try getting him out.”

Sato fumbled with it. “Captain Arada is- He got captured!?”

“Briefly.” Ryoma explained with a pained furrow to his brows. “Start by uncorking it or something- I don’t know how it works and I’m going to crash sooner or later from the chakra pill.”

“Chakra- fucking-” Sato growled, shaking his head and sitting down on the floor of the Great Bolter to inspect the Toad Gourd. “I’m not a sealing expert, how the hell am I supposed to figure this out?!” He complained.

“It’s not a seal, it’s a barrier.” Ryoma corrected, head rocking about from the holes in the road. “Just pop the cork and see where that gets you!”

A pop behind his head, followed by a burst of smoke and the sound of sandals landing on wood. Someone fell back on the floor, coughing with the new smoke that filled the interior.

“...Genin Sato, Jonin Ryoma.” The growly voice of Captain Arada came out behind him. “Report.”

“The Toad Sage captured you in a Toad Gourd, team leader. After a brief skirmish, I was able to retrieve the gourd and escape, whereupon I summoned the Great Bolter for transportation.” Ryoma began to explain, eyes closed and vision focused entirely through the puppet-eyes that lined the Great Bolter’s frame. Those were not subject to his own physical frailties, and much more stable right now as a result.  “I met with Genin Sato, who was able to free you after a brief time with the Gourd- I took a chakra pill and medical pill earlier. I suspect I have fractures in my left arm, ribs, and a concussion.”

The entire frame of the Great Bolter rocked as they swerved around a hilly road, the wood groaning as it was strained. 

Captain Arada stepped into his line of sight, the old glower leaning close to his face. “Open your eyes.” Ryoma obeyed, and the captain looked into them for a few moments, before nodding and pulling back. “Your suspicions were correct, you are suffering a concussion.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Ryoma replied, closing his eyes again and rocking in the padded seat as they sped down a hillside. 

“...The objective was not destroyed, then.” Arada continued with a grave tone.

“It was not, Captain.” Ryoma replied with an unsteady shake of his head. Oh boy- he could really feel the medicine now. He made a conscious effort to slow his driving speed, just in case of a crash. “I was in no way prepared to handle the Toad Sage on my own- extracting you was difficult enough.”

“...Where are we going now, Jonin?”

“Towards the last objective- Jonin Tsubame should meet us there.” Ryoma started, before his face scrunched up more and he leaned forwards slightly. She was going to be pretty mad at him, for getting into a fight with one of the Sannin. “I’m going to crash before we arrive, Captain. I’ll be pretty useless for anything once I do.”

“Acknowledged.” Captain Arada replied, arms crossed and eyes glaring at nothing in particular. “Genin- be ready to carry him again once he collapses. We cannot afford to slow our pace.”

Sato groaned in time with the Great Bolter, as they sped around another road-corner. 

—

“Team Arada reporting a partial mission success.” Captain Arada growled in the air-conditioned safety of the Kazekage’s office. 

Ryoma’s predictions ended up being pretty accurate. He had crashed sometime later that same night, woke up a few times hungry and in pain, and finally regained most of his functionality somewhere in the northern Suna desert on their way back from destroying the second bridge. Partially draped across Tsubame’s shoulders with his left in a splint and ribs bound with layers of bandages, Ryoma must have made for a pretty sorry sight as they made their way back to their supreme commander’s office. 

Tsubame had made sure to silently express her displeasure at his state with an unshakable ambience of irritation. 

The Kazekage stared at the Shiki Corps Captain for a few moments longer, eyes narrowed. “...Report.”

“Both bridges were destroyed, but the destruction of Naito Village was interrupted by Jiraiya of Konoha, who intervened on behalf of the civilians present.” Arada shook his head in an irritable fashion, planting his fan on the stone floor. “No significant damage could be performed on the village before he forced us to retreat.”

The Kazekage turned a stare towards him, then shook his head slightly. “The Kyojutsu was not deployed, at least.” He stated bluntly. The Great Dragoon, currently stored in a high-security bunker underneath the Puppet-Corps HQ, had at least one person constantly monitoring it. Through this, the Kazekage would always be aware of if it was summoned into the field or not.

“No, Lord Kazekage.” Ryoma shook his head tiredly, then nodded towards Arada. “Upon the Toad Sage arriving at the field, Captain Arada specifically forbade its deployment. I believe this was the correct move, and support the decision.”

The Captain glanced towards him, then forwards again. 

“Injuries?” The Kazekage continued with a frown, leaning forwards in his chair and reaching forwards to take up one of the written reports. 

“Jonin Ryoma is the only one with notable injuries- He suffered a concussion, severe bruising, and suspected fractures in the battle against Jiraiya of Konoha.” Arada explained shortly, his long mustache twitching as he spoke. “Several days with the Medical Corps is my estimation.”

The Kazekage silently read through the first written report, before closing his eyes and furrowing his brow. “I see.”

After a few moments of slightly awkward silence, the Kazekage opened his eyes again and reached down into his desk, withdrawing several slips of paper. Their payment-slips, accounting notes to hand off to the banking office in the Logistics Division. “Completion of two B-rank missions, therefore two-hundred and thirty thousand Ryo divided four ways…” The Kazekage paused for a moment to do the division, then wrote down a sum on the four otherwise identical notes. “Fifty seven thousand, five hundred each.”

With that, he pushed the slips forwards and then leaned back in his chair, withdrawing a box of pocky, shaking out a stick, and setting it between his lips with a deep frown. “Dismissed.”

“Thank you, Lord Kazekage.” Captain Arada spoke respectfully. They took their slips and left the office behind them, door closing on the troubled visage of the Kazekage. 

“Glad that’s over, at least.” Sato groaned, rubbing the side of his head.

Ryoma almost told him ‘it’s not over yet’, but decided to refrain this time. With his injuries being what they were, he was certainly going to miss the first few days of what was about to happen.

Which was good, in one sense. “I need to get to the Medical Corps.” He grumbled.

“I will escort you there.” Tsubame said immediately, turning directions and moving away from the other two. Ryoma waved to them lamely in goodbye, as he was half-dragged through the hall, down the stairs, and out into the shaded streets of Suna. 

With the bridges destroyed but not the village, the site would serve as a limited cache of extra supplies to sustain a rapid low-stamina counterattack from Iwa, if they so chose. That was problematic for Suna, because it meant they wouldn’t be able to deploy all the units they would prefer to the upcoming campaign, and would need to reserve some for a worse-case scenario counterattack. That meant that-

“Hey sensei! Are you- are you hurt?!” A young voice called out, drawing Ryoma’s gaze towards it. A bit away in the shaded streets was a pair of ninja, a male and a female, both with flak vests. The female carried a long black sword and had pink hair, and the male had a sword on his belt and blonde hair. 

Ryoma didn’t really recognize either of them. He gave a little nod. “Yo.”

“He is.” Tsubame replied shortly, staring at the pair. “I am escorting him to the Medical Corps HQ.”

The blond ninja raised his hands and laughed awkwardly. “Ahah- well don’t let us slow you down!”

The pink-haired girl nodded seriously. “We can say hello later- we’ll visit you while you’re there, sensei.”

Ryoma still wasn’t sure who they were, but they were familiar. Probably one of the remedial classes he taught- but there were a lot of kids in those classes. Jin and Mio, or something like that. “That’s probably fine.” He gave a vague shrug, before nodding forwards. Tsubame resumed her half-carry towards the Suna equivalent of the hospital. “Have fun on your date.” He waved behind himself.

The sputtering from both was amusing to listen to. 

Jan and Mia?

He eventually dropped the mystery as they arrived at the doors of the Medical Corps HQ. Half medical ninjutsu, half druglab, all a bunch of people that everyone wanted on their side. Tsubame pushed the doors open as Ryoma waved at the guard outside. 

“Hello, checking in?” A man at the front desk asked with a polite smile. 

“If it wouldn’t be an issue.” Ryoma nodded. “Suspected fractures on arm and ribs and a concussion- all field treated a few days ago.”

“I see.” The man replied, making a note of something on a pad. “If you follow me, I’ll take you to the operating theater.”

“No need, I’ll see the scamp.” A woman called out with a grin in her voice. The voice was raspy and aged, but the woman who spoke was flawlessly youthful, walking towards him from around a corner. “The Kazekage called over before you showed up- told me to get someone ready for your treatment.” 

Brown hair tied back in an elegantly lazy bun, white robes covered by a red sash, and skin bearing absolutely no trace of human imperfection. All except the eyes, which were almost unnervingly human when set in the otherwise flawless face. 

Medical Corps Captain Aoi, who had thoroughly interrogated Ryoma about full-body replacement puppetry once, and seemed to be doing well for herself with it since. “Giheheh- I’ll take care of you, boyo~.”

“Thanks.” Ryoma replied blandly. 

The best way to deflect teasing was to pretend to not notice it at all. 

Chapter 37

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

He had been expecting a few days off, but instead he had been woken up and escorted to another secret meeting in the early hours of the morning. He had to go much slower than normal, accounting for the damages he still sustained, but soon enough he was walking through the doors leaning into one of the many sealed chambers below the Kazekage’s office. 

The white-veiled gentleman who escorted him stayed at the door, along with Tsubame, while gesturing for him to go inside. Ryoma nodded tiredly at the pair before pushing the doors open and stepping through. 

Inside the room was a large circular sandstone table unencumbered by chairs, the walls were equally blank slabs of polished sandstone, with an image-projector mounted in the center of the table and pointed at the far wall. Very much the classic image of a conference or presentation room, with how few people-comforts were present. 

“Ryoma!” The calm boom of Captain Gentai rang out, drawing his gaze. The massive man was standing on the left of the room, right next to the Vice-Captain Nichibotsu, with one hand raised in greeting. Ryoma raised his own hand as he gingerly walked over, arm in a sling and head and ribs thoroughly wrapped. 

Glancing around the room, he could see that nearly every Corps Captain and Vice-Captain was present at whatever this secret meeting was, along with the Kazekage at the far wall, the ANBU Captain, and the Logistics Division Captain. Captain Arada was over there, Captain Aoi a few spaces over, Vice-Captain Pakura a little ways away…

Lots of pretty important people in this room, Ryoma felt a bit out of his depth here. “Captain, Vice-Captain.”

“Looking a little banged-up there, eheh.” Nichibotsu laughed and leaned forwards with a nod. “Someone get through your armor last mission or somethin’?”

“Something like that.” Ryoma shook his head. “I’d be worse off if I wasn’t wearing it- every hit broke something on me.”

“Hah- what have I been telling you, huh? You need a good shield, kid! Nothing gets past a puppet-shield!” Nichibotsu wiggled his fingers at him, and Ryoma gave a rueful sigh and shake of his head. 

“Jonin Ryoma. Thank you for providing the strategic and technical outline of the Bolters to Toyoko- She tells me that the Genin are most thankful for your generous distribution of such information.” Gentai rumbled as quietly as he could, which was still a bit louder than most people talked. 

“I’m surprised it took this long for anyone to ask.” Ryoma replied, reaching up to scratch the side of his head. “Nothing about them is secret or difficult- I expected to see copycats years ago, really.”

“It would be terribly rude of them to mimic your signature Puppets without explicit permission, Jonin Ryoma.” Gentai nodded genially, face locked into his signature glare and scowl. He chopped a hand down at him in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Well, if any of them ask in the future, tell them they’re free to do so.” Ryoma waved it off. Calling the Bolters his ‘signature style’ felt mildly insulting, but not really inaccurate. He elected to just accept it and move along. “They’re the perfect puppet for a beginner- there’s nothing complex or expensive about them, and they help with many basic-”

“I see that everyone is present.” The Kazekage called out from the far end of the room, drawing the various smaller conversations to a close nigh-instantly. The rust-haired man looked around for a few seconds, before nodding in satisfaction. “Yura, raise the Barrier.”

A man with a goatee near one of the corners of the room nodded, performing a handful of seals and slapping the wall. Immediately a pale-purple sheen came over the walls, ceiling, and floor, glowing brightly before fading gently again. 

“What is discussed in the meeting to follow will never be declassified.” The Kazekage began with a sharp and stare, black rings forming around his eyes as he spoke. The image-projector on the table whirred to life at command of an unseen hand. “Dissemination of the contents of this meeting to any unauthorized subject in an unauthorized location will be punished in accordance to the severity of the leak, up to and including execution.”

Ryoma already knew exactly what this meeting was going to contain. It was pretty obvious to him. 

“Having said that- if you are present in this meeting, then your loyalty to Sunagakure and reliability is already considered exceptional. You shouldn’t have anything to worry about.” The Kazekage shook his head slightly as an image was projected onto the immense sandstone wall behind him. 

‘So long as you continue to be loyal’ was left unsaid. It was honestly pretty polite as far as ninja go.

The Kazekage glanced back at it, eyes narrowing as the image slightly adjusted itself to be more even against the wall, then turning back to address the… twenty or so ninja in the room. “The contents of this meeting will not be distributed to the wider Sunagakure Ninja Force. If pressed to answer, such as through torture or blackmail, you are to answer that this meeting was held to discuss an ultimately-discarded plot to assassinate and replace the Wind Daimyo.”

Oh good, they already had a pre-planned excuse for the planning meeting. There were a few sharp inhales at that, younger ninja reacting to the implication that a plot to kill their patron-lord was somehow less damning than whatever was about to be discussed. 

Or maybe they just really liked the Wind Daimyo, that was possible too.

“As you all know, the Wind Daimyo has stopped delivering high-profile missions to Sunagakure in the wake of the Third Ninja War. This reduced our overall funding by a noticeable but not insurmountable degree.” The Kazekage spoke as the white box flashed and was replaced by a basic timeline of financial events and records. Ryoma had to squint to see everything on the list, a lot of it was boring recordkeeping showing a steady but very slight decline in the treasury over the last few years. “While the loss of these high-profile missions was troublesome, it was not catastrophic.”

The Kazekage paused for a moment, letting the financial timeline flip to the next slide. A continuation of the previous timeline, now projected forwards several years with predictions about how the new budget cuts were going to affect them. “Two weeks prior, the Financial Office of the Wind Daimyo forwarded an official declaration of decreased spending.”

The image spoke for itself.

“...And we’re not assassinating the Wind Daimyo?” The harsh, sarcastic drawl of the Vice Captain of the Weapons Corps rolled over the room. 

“The Wind Daimyo is currently being guarded by a delegation of six elite Konoha Jonin, in the capacity that Sunagakure ninja once performed, along with a full Kumi of Samurai guards.” The Kazekage began simply. “While it is highly feasible that an alpha-strike of our Warfans would be able to demolish his palaces- such a strike sends a clear message to all other Daimyo that Sunagakure is willing to perform hostile action against the high nobility. We will be unlikely to receive any more regular high-level missions with such an attack, even if the attack proves successful.”

His head tilted forwards slightly. “Should the Wind Daimyo suffer any manner of unusual or unexpected death anytime soon, Sunagakure will be the first and primary suspect. Assassination of the Wind Daimyo is an attractive but poisoned solution to our looming financial crisis, and has been dismissed on such grounds.”

“So, what will we be doing, Lord Kazekage?” The Captain of the Genjutsu Corps asked with a tone that indicated she knew something that the rest of the people in the room didn’t.

The Kazekage nodded, then turned back to the screen, flipping through several slides with a thought and arriving at a generalized map of the surrounding countries. “Several plans were proposed, outlined, and debated in abstract over the last few years- ordered in a cost and risk to benefit ratio list. Then, with the advice of Elder Ebizo, I selected a winner amongst the candidate-plans. We have been preparing for it specifically over the last two weeks.”

The next slide flipped. On top of the image, detailed in bold red lettering, was a title. 

Operation : Catching Swan

Not the name he would’ve chosen. The image detailed the Land of Rivers as it currently stood- a series of petty states divided by rivers and mountain ranges in a state of constant low-level warfare. On the map were two ‘green’ provinces, Tanigakure and the Sunagakure property purchased from the first Hokage so many years ago. All other provinces were colored in yellow, orange, or red, and bore little stylized banners of their local factions. 

“The Land of Rivers is the primary source of foodstuffs into Sunagakure, and any unified power in the region would bear an outsized leverage over our village. As a result, with aid from the local ninja of Tanigakure, the Land has been kept in a relatively balanced and divided state. The low level conflict that this divided state incentivizes keeps our allies in Tanigakure consistently employed while ensuring no one faction has the power to threaten Sunagakure directly.”

“Operation Catching Swan will require the destruction of several key stabilizing figures in the region, including Tanigakure, destabilizing the region and provoking another open war among provinces in the region.”

The room got very loud for a few moments, as gathered ninja spoke up or out against the idea. Ryoma stayed quiet, simply staring at the screen with a little frown and a heavy furrow to his brow. 

“Lord Kazekage- To provoke a war is one thing, but to betray our allies in Tani as well-”

“Lord Kazekage- Sure we don’t have to do that- they’ll support us in this if we ask!”

“Can’t we simply- draft them into Sunagakure’s ranks?! That’s how good ol’ Reto did it!”

Rasa raised one hand.

The room went silent, aside from a single figure with arms crossed. Ninjutsu Vice-Captain Pakura remained standing, glaring at the Kazekage.

“Why the hell do we need to attack them?” The lack of direct respect showed off how angry the fellow S-ranker was at the moment.

“If a war is provoked in the Land of Rivers, Tanigakure will naturally be the primary beneficiary of jobs produced by the conflict.” Rasa explained patiently, a hard, black-ringed stare focused down on his only nominal peer in strength in all of Suna. “For this plan to ensure Suna’s financial stability, Suna must be the primary beneficiary. Otherwise the effort is wasted, and the long-term component of the plan will not benefit us. We will have started a war for no long-term gain.”

Pakura kept staring at him for a few seconds, tilting her head forwards and to the side. She ignored how the Ninjutsu Captain was currently glaring at her, a silent indication that she should shut up. “And why we aren’t pulling a Reto here?”

“We are, indeed, ‘Pulling a Reto’.” That made her stop short. The Kazekage’s face was passive as he continued to speak. “On several occasions, when confronted with clans too mighty and too well-entrenched for him to easily absorb, Lord First would employ his greatest weapon- the One Tailed Sand Demon.”

Rasa’s head tilted back disdainfully. “After their home was devastated by the rampage of the Sand Demon, Reto would arrive and beat the demon back with his Heavenly Iron Spheres. Once suppressed, he would press the survivors into service under his banners, and in this way all ninja clans that called the Land of Wind home were unified as Sunagakure.”

“Of course, unleashing the Sand Demon upon Tanigakure would be entirely too obvious. As a substitute, Jonin Momochi has spent the last few weeks locating and securing a Summoning Contract with the Snake Clan of Ryuchi Cave.”

A Jonin in the back raised his hand for everyone to see, a bland looking fellow with a gaunt face and black semicircles painted under his eyes. 

“He will be responsible for the summoning of a gargantuan serpent while under disguise- the same kind famously utilized by Orochimaru of the Sannin from Konoha. Once Tanigakure is sufficiently destroyed, a nearby Sunagakure team will arrive on the scene to engage it in battle and drive it away. Freshly weakened, the survivors will be unable to resist incorporation into Sunagakure.” 

This was not his plan, Ryoma realized belatedly. His plan called for an alpha strike on Tanigakure followed by quiet eliminations of any potential survivors thereafter, for years to come. In many ways this plan was more risky and more kind than his plan had been.

Then again, they had precedent of this working in their history. Ryoma supposed he was thankful for it- as much as he knew the incorporation of even more low level ninja into their ranks would destabilize them further.

Pakura let out a low breath. “...I see. Apologies for the disruption, Lord Kazekage.”

Rasa nodded shallowly. “Once these stabilizing figures are destroyed and Sunagakure establishes their presence in the Land of Rivers, we will use our newfound dominance of the market to support pro-Suna figures in the region, both openly and subtly depending on the situation. The ultimate goal of which will be the unification of the region under the banner of a Suna ally- no matter what faction actually ends up achieving long term victory. While the war will bolster our economy in the short and mid term, the newly unified, pro-Suna River Country will secure our long term economic stability.”

“...We’re making our own Daimyo.” The Captain of the Barrier Corps stated plainly, arms crossed and lips pulled down into a frown.

“In essence.” The Kazekage flipped to the next slide. “With Konohgakure our nominal allies, they will be more hesitant than normal to interfere with our operations in the Land of Rivers, meaning that only Iwa remains a problematic border. To prepare for this operation- a pre-emptive warning strike was launched into their nearest sources of resupply in Claw Country, which was only partially successful on account of unexpected interference from Jiraiya of the Sannin.”

“What? Isn’t that a direct strike against our alliance?! Why?” The Captain of the Ninjutsu Corps hissed, leaning forwards slightly and slapping a hand on the table.

“The mission called for the destruction of Naito Village. Jiraiya declared that he was intervening for the sake of the Civilians who lived there.” Rasa explained flatly.

“Damn soft Konoha Ninja!”

“High and Mighty Pricks- Declaring an alliance and turning against it the moment it’s convenient!”

“Shifty bastards…”

Ryoma elected against pointing out that Sunagakure was currently in the process of betraying their long term allies, and they really didn’t have a moral high ground to judge other villages with at the moment. 

“With the destruction of the secondary targets but not the primary target- Iwa will have the logistical capacity to launch at least one short-term retaliatory campaign against Sunagakure should they so choose. This campaign, if performed, will be unlikely to escalate into full-blown warfare again, as Iwagakure cannot afford such.” Rasa let a grim note come to his voice. “However, in the unlikely event that Iwa does decide to launch a full scale invasion of Suna while a significant number of our forces are preoccupied in the Land of Rivers, the most likely outcome is the destruction of our home and the end of Sunagakure as a major power.”

There was a dreadful quiet at that statement. 

Eventually, the Kazekage continued. “For this reason, we will be unable to fully deploy in the Land of Rivers- a strong garrison will need to remain behind in Sunagakure to defend against this worst-case scenario.” He nodded at Pakura. “Myself and Vice-Captain Pakura will have to remain in Suna should the worst occur. It will be up to the individual excellence of all ninja deployed in the Land of Rivers to fulfill their objectives there.”

“We do not have the capacity to absorb too many losses or incomplete missions, lest it undermines the image of strength Suna must project at the moment. A great and public failure will spell long-term doom for Sunagakure.”

What a perfectly ominous way to motivate everyone into working harder. 

“What team will be asked to face the Summoned Snake in Tanigakure, Lord Kazekage?” 

Rasa glanced in his direction. Ryoma had a distinct feeling…

“Jonin Ryoma will take on a mission near the region and respond to the attack on Tanigakure. He will deploy the Kyojutsu to confront the Summon, revealing it in a dramatic and destructive show of force. It will be deployed frequently throughout Operation Catching Swan, in the most publicly-visible high-profile missions.” Rasa shook his head. “The Kyojutsu’s benefits as a war-machine are still questionable, but it will almost certainly impress many less-than-wise clients if deployed strategically. If nothing else- it will advertise Sunagakure’s ability to produce very large and very expensive war-puppets.”

Ryoma exhaled slowly as eyes in the room turned towards him. Captains, Vice-Captains, and a handful of elite Jonin that he wasn’t oo familiar with. “How soon do I get ready, Lord Kazekage?” If the Claw Mission had been fully successful, they’d have much more of a buffer-period to relax with. As it stood, however…

“You will begin to prepare yourself as soon as this meeting is concluded. Your current injuries are unlikely to seriously impair your ability to operate the Kyojutsu- take care to not strain them further despite that.”

Yeah that sounded about right.

Ryoma wanted to respond, to say that he really didn’t feel qualified for this- but that was blatantly false in this particular situation. The Great Dragoon was his specialty as a puppet. There was no one more qualified for this than himself. 

He was an ‘Open Warfare’ specialist, after all. This kind of work was what he was good at.

“Yes, Lord Kazekage. Will I be assigned a team?”

“You will.” 

Well that was good, at least.

Chapter 38

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

“Can’t this wait till you’re recovered?” His friendly former supervisor asked with a grouchy tone and glaring face, a bag slung over her shoulders and glaring up at him. Ryoma glanced down from his current perch atop the Great Bolter, chakra strings stretching from one hand and loading supplies into the interior of the big wood and steel box. 

This was the third unit of Great Bolter- the most recently built and designed using all of the lessons learned from the previous two. Iterative improvements, mostly, not any substantial overhaul of the actual design, not enough to call it a proper ‘mark’ upgrade to the previous. Ryoma kept the other two around for spare parts, slowly dismantling them when he needed to repair this one.

“Do you have any idea what I can do with Senju Wood?” Ryoma drawled, handing another set of bags to Tsubame on the other side of the hatch. The immediately-usable stuff would go in bags, and if that wasn’t enough, he could always just summon the Bulk-Storage Seal mk2 over and get most anything he needed out. 

“No- but I don’t think you need to risk your health by rushing to get it either.” Toyoko sassed up at him, hands on her hips.

“Well I don’t know either.” He replied, ignoring the second half of her sentence. “But I do know it doesn’t go up for sale that often- and that I'm going to personally thank Tanigakure with a million Ryo for the delivery.”

“Paying. You’re paying them a million.”

“And I’m going to be very grateful when I hand the scroll over.” Ryoma corrected with a waggled finger. “Now load your stuff up, Sassy-chan. We’ll be rolling out as soon as Hotaru is done showering and actually gets down here.”

“Tch.” She uttered with a scowl and shake of her head, walking forwards and then up the side of the Great Bolter, hands flashing down to cover her thighs as she did. Ryoma handed another bag to Tsubame, who was staring up at him in a very unimpressed fashion.

“Nice thighs, shorty.”

“You weren’t even looking, liar!” Toyoko growled at him as she stepped over to the hatch and politely handed her bag over to Tsubame. “I was watching your eyes!”

He could’ve looked with the puppet-eyes mounted all the way around the Great Bolter, but that seemed like a lot of effort for a really mild amount of thrill. “Hotaru!” Ryoma called out flatly towards the building they were in the shadows of, hand raised to his mouth. “Get a move on!”

Somewhere in the Inn, he heard a distant ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’, muffled by the stone walls and coming from somewhere on the second floor. He reached up to scratch the side of his head, lips tugging down beneath his veil. 

“Not the quickest, huh?” He muttered, before rolling his neck and doing his best to stretch under the medical bindings.

“Why did you ask for us on this mission anyways, huh? Three ladies all to yourself in a box?!” Toyoko growled in a very cute manner at him. “What are you up to?”

“Getting three people versed in puppetry with no outstanding current responsibilities to help me bounce ideas around about what I could do with the expensive wood I’m about to buy.” Ryoma replied flatly, turning his gaze down to her again. “I asked Tsuyumaru first, and he said he’d be busy. I can’t ask the Captain or Vice-Captain to come along on a shopping trip with me- so that just leaves you three.”

She furrowed her brows at him, arms crossed and a finger tapping against the crook of her arm.

“In other words- you’re my second-place choice, congratulations on winning by default.” He gave a thumbs up and smile as her face twisted up into a silently irritable look. Like a rabbit deeply offended to be offered an unsatisfactory type of carrot. He maintained the gaze for a second, before giving an amused scoff and leaning down slightly. “Oh, my bad- I meant actually yes- I’m luring you away from the village so I can do all manner of nefarious and lewd things to you, definitely.”

“Kyah.” Tsubame interjected emotionlessly. “My body is in danger. Oh no.”

Toyoko let out a frustrated sigh. “He doesn’t need your help to mock me, Jonin Tsubame.”

“The opportunity was too convenient.” Tsubame explained blankly. At about that moment, the door to the inn was flung open and Hotaru stumbled out, laden with a large box strapped to her back and a pair of bags. Her hair was still thoroughly soaked, and she smelled faintly of some fruity nonsense.

“I’m sorry!” She wailed, stumbling forwards. “I didn’t mean to be late!”

“You’re not late, we haven’t left yet.” Ryoma shrugged, stepping over to the hatch and gently lowering himself inside- pausing briefly as Tsubame caught his feet like a human stepladder. He raised a brow before ducking to go lower, slipping inside and moving over to the piloting seat. “Get in and get comfortable, we're in for a long ride.”

Tsubame stepped back, letting Toyoko poke her head through and then drop in, little boots clacking against the floorplate as she inspected the interior. “Revised again?” She asked with a snooty little raised nose. 

“Third unit, yeah.” Roma explained briefly, leaning back and resting his head on the newly-installed extra cushioning. He raised a hand, letting the strings connect to the frame and ‘waking up’ the eyes. It always took a moment or two to get used to omnidirectional vision again, blurry all around except in certain cones where he had layered multiple eyes together to focus- namely the front and the turret. 

The Puppet-Eye technique wasn’t affected by material quality at all, as far as anyone could tell. Wood, glass, stone, everything had roughly the same level of vision quality. The only exception was actual, biological eyes, which were much clearer but that meant he’d have to replace them constantly or deal with the smell of formaldehyde all the time. 

So instead he just put multiple eyes in the same direction. The quality increase still wasn’t as good as his actual eyes, but it was a noticeable improvement from before. He could actually read large lettering through a quintet of linked eyes pointed at the same thing. 

He was pretty sure this is what Sasori laughed at him about all those years ago- he had already figured this out, and it was a pretty obvious answer in hindsight. Why else would all his secondary puppets like Crow, Black Ant, and Salamander all have three eyes instead of one or two?

‘More eyes help you see better’, woah, what an amazingly esoteric answer. Ryoma was still slightly annoyed at himself about it. 

Hotaru dropped through the hatch hesitantly, glancing around nervously. “He-hey! Hi! Sorry!”

“What are you apologizing for?” Ryoma titled his head back to give her a confused look. He shook his head and faced forwards again. “Close the hatch behind you- we don’t want sand getting inside the cabin.” 

“Right!” She exclaimed, bouncing in place slightly and reaching up to fumble with the lid. “Right…”

“Pull down and twist counter-clockwise.” Toyoko grunted, plopping down in one of the chairs in the back, looking at the little mirror-slots that showed the outside indirectly. Ryoma had been thinking about buying and installing live-feed cameras to put in for the passengers instead, but they were too big, too bulky, and drew entirely too much power for him to consider it. 

Instead, the back contained two systems for other people to monitor the outside world. A slot in the roof that lets you physically peer through, and a pair of angled mirrors to peer through indirectly, and that’s about it. 

Again- he needed to figure out one of those sensor-jutsu so he could install a proper monitor, but that project kept getting delayed again and again. 

Tsubame glared through the upper hatch like it was trying to sneak up on her, and Hotaru hesitated as she looked for a place to sit. Eventually she just settled down on the floor where she was standing, hair soaking her shoulders and staring at nothing in particular. 

The Great Bolter shook slightly, limbs pulling together under its main bulk before rising into the air. The legs twisted, the wheels extended, and Ryoma slowly pulled up to speed leading away from the Inn. The frame bucked and shook as he moved over dunes, then towards the ‘main road’, which was less of a road and more of a stretch of particularly hard and therefore mostly flat sand. 

This stretch of sand would continue for quite a ways, then they’d go over another few dunes, then finally hit the old packed-stone road that led along the coast from the Wind Capital up to the Land of Rivers. Was it stealthy? Absolutely not, which was the point of him going through there and being very obvious with his movements.

Both so other people could verify that he had indeed been in that location, and because if he was doing something sneaky, he wouldn’t be so obvious about it. 

The attack was in six days, eleven hours.

—

“So uhm… What are we… going… to get?” Hotaru asked suddenly, hair dry and rear end rooted to the center of the cabin. No one replied for a moment, as the rest of them processed the breech in the comfortable quiet of the road. 

“Were you not listening when I explained it earlier?” Ryoma asked with a raised brow.

“...No.” Hotaru responded after a moment, ducking her head shamedly. 

“Tanigakure recently seized a shipment of smuggled wood from a Senju Tree, and offered to sell it to us if anyone wanted it.” Ryoma explained, stretching his legs out as they rumbled over another dune. “Meaning- sell it to someone from the Puppet Corps, because no one else would care about luxury wood.” 

“Senju Wood is- the trees grown by the First Hokage and his Wood Release, right?” Hotaru asked with increasing confidence, leaning forwards slightly.

“Yeah, one of those trees.” Ryoma rolled a hand. “Konoha occasionally cuts one down and processes the wood for things like super-expensive furniture.”

“It’s the strongest wood in the world, according to legend. Strong enough to bind even the greatest of the Tailed Demons.” Toyoko exposited, arms crossed and nodding in an official manner. 

“Tani says they have a desk-sized block on hand- and Captain Gentai offered me dibs on buying it, which was nice of him.” Ryoma pointed a thumb back at his head. “I think I’m going to use it to make a new set of puppet-armor, replace the damaged components of the old mk3 here first and then see what I can do with the rest.”

“Do not make a Bolter with it.” Toyoko growled at him. 

“I wasn’t going to waste super-durable wood on something designed to explode.” Ryoma rolled his eyes. “I’m rolling my eyes at you, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“I could.”

“Although it would be really funny…” Ryoma muttered with a musing tone.

“Ryoma!”

He chuckled and adjusted the legs to smoothly glide over a bump in the road. “More seriously- I want ideas here. I think I’m going to use it to iterate on my armor- but I’m not sure what I’d do with the rest of it after.”

“Are you going to densify the material?” Toyoko asked with a curious air and a thoughtful tone.

“I’m not sure- densification is pretty wasteful in terms of raw material to finished product.” Ryoma pressed his lips together, considering the idea. “If I do that- I might not have enough material to make a complete set of puppet-armor out of it. I’m definitely going to collect the sawdust, use it to create the usually-shaped components with some resin or epoxy.”

“Make sure you test your process on a standard block of equivalent size first.” Toyoko continued with a helpful sort of nagging. “Lest you waste any of it.”

“...It’s expensive, right?” Hotaru asked for clarification. “Otherwise- we’d be using it more, if it’s better than normal wood…”

“I’m paying for a rectangular block about the size of an office desk.” Ryoma began to explain in a casual sort of manner. “My starting offer is going to be one million Ryo- and I’m prepared to go up to ten million for it.”

There was some sputtered coughing behind him at the price mentioned. Toyoko sighed. “Can you even afford this?”

No, but the Kazekage had given him a scroll full of golden bars for the occasion. They had to make sure his cover story was more or less airtight here. That meant weird favors and additional funding to cover the costs of a convenient deal with Tani. Just plausible enough that no one would blink at the circumstances of his little trip over to the Land of Rivers.

Slightly more durable puppets was already a thing achievable with densified wood or metal- the benefits of Senju Wood specifically didn’t really outweigh the costs of getting ahold of some, and so most puppeteers wouldn’t even bother. Ryoma wasn’t really sure how much more protection he was going to get out of the material, considering his both under the armor was just as squishy and padded as before, but there wasn’t much else to use it for.

Bolters would be a waste, and there wasn’t enough to make anything else- so armor it was.

“...You can’t, can you?” Toyoko asked with a long-suffering sigh.

“I can cover it.” Ryoma replied, returning to the moment. “I got distracted thinking about how cute you are.”

“You’re a damn liar, is what you are.” Toyoko growled. 

“He is.” Tsubame supported like a stealthy sledgehammer- unexpected and blunt. 

“And you’re clingy.” Ryoma shot back.

“I am not clingy. I maintain an appropriate amount of distance from you at all times.”

“I tried to piss before we left and you tried to get in the bathroom with me.”

“She what?!” Toyoko shot up, slapping a palm against the side of the wall and clenching a fist.

Hotaru coughed, falling back and pushing up against the side-wall, getting out of the way of Toyoko’s sudden, flaring anger.

“The restroom is the most vulnerable period for the human animal- It would be trivial for an assassin to-”

“I’m a grown-ass ninja- I think I can handle a bathroom bandit on my own!” Ryoma growled, chopping a hand towards her. Toyoko marched towards the front of the Great Bolter, away from the perverse puppetlimbed woman and sitting next to him, glaring back suspiciously. 

Tsubame pulled her gaze from the forward-hatch and met gazes with the short woman in uniform. Tsubame’s eyes narrowed. “The last time you assured me of your safety, you battled one of the Sannin.”

“He what?!” This time, Toyoko growled at him instead. “Is- is that what those injuries are from?!”

Ryoma sighed in no small amount of frustration.

“You idiot- why were you fighting one of the Sannin?!”

It was going to be a long trip, huh?

—

Six days later, they were stomping along the river-road leading towards Tanigakure. Stomping, because the road had gotten a bit too small and bumpy for the wheels to be of good use, and this was still pretty fast. His wrappings were still on- but his arm was out of the sling and his head felt much better. Days of rest and driving, while tiring, were still less strenuous than actually walking here on foot. 

He slowed his stomps at the foot of a bridge, the turret swiveling around and eyes sweeping across his immediate surroundings. 

This looked like a great spot for an ambush. 

He stretched mightily, before pushing up and back to the hatch. 

“What are you doing?” Tsubame asked quickly, stepping forwards with narrowed eyes. 

“Saying hello.” He replied, opening the hatch and pulling himself up and out, sitting on the rim. He raised his hands to his mouth and called out. “Yo! Tani!”

He gave this a fifty percent chance of working.

After a few seconds, a figure crawled out from underneath the bridge. A mostly nude male with outrageous musculature barely covered by a combination of swimwear, fishnets, and a flak jacket. The distinctive ‘V’ shape of Tanigakure boldly displayed on his headband.

“Urrrooooaah!” The Tani-ninja greeted with a massive and slightly provocative stretch, followed by a crack of something in his spine and a relaxed slump. “Yo, Suna.” He said, raising a hand and leaning against the side of the bridge. “What brings you around in that big boat-on-legs, Mister Sailor”

“Heard you guys were selling some special wood- I’m here for the pickup and payment.” Ryoma ignored the sudden sputtering from Hotaru below him. She did that a lot. “I got myself, and three others inside- a full team.”

“Hm?” Tani-nin replied with a raised brow. “Getting some wood, huh? Sounds like a party- I’m not sure if your big ol’ thing there will fit through this poor mud road though.” 

Ryoma nodded, sliding his legs up and patting the top of the Great Bolter. “You heard the guy- everyone up and out, and bring your stuff too. We’re going the rest of the way on foot.”

They were unusually quiet as they rose up out of the hatch and slid off the Great Bolter, tossing bags out as they went. Ryoma hefted his own bag- a small one slung over his shoulder, and stared at the Great Bolter for a few moments. He turned a glance back at the Tani-Nin. “Do you have somewhere I can store this thing? It’s too big to seal.”

The male blinked at him, before frowning at the giant puppet. “Uhh…”

“I can watch it.” A female voice came from under the bridge. Another scantily-dressed Tani-nin almost slipped her way up, black hair hanging over her face and legs hanging over the edge. “If you want, dani.” 

Ryoma nodded, opening his mouth to thank her.

He was cut off by an ear-shattering, bone-rumbling noise. A hiss that was too loud and low-pitched to be a hiss. A roar that was too long and sharp to be a roar.

Exactly the sound he imagined a giant snake would make- coming from just over the hill.

Exactly on schedule. 

“What was that?!”

“It came from the village!”

“Let’s go!” Ryoma declared authoritatively, thumb twitching as he did. The Tani-nin glanced towards him, before nodding sharply and leaping away.

Ryoma followed before Tsubame could protest. Rapid leaps brought him up along the muddy roar- each leap interspersed by another roar-hiss and human screams made faint with distance. One, two, five, ten…

Thirty powerful leaps before he finally crested the edge of the hill, some secondary entrance into the village, and looked out across the Village Hidden in the Valleys.

And the massive red and gold snake that writhed within, screaming vitriol as elemental ninjutsu bounced off its scaled hide and its jaws ripped through houses. 

“SCALELESS THINGS. WRETCHED SCALESS THINGS. LESS THAN DRAGONS, LESS THAN SNAKES, LESS THAN WORMS. KNOW THE HONOR OF DYING BY MY TEETH.”

It’s tail flicked- smashing through a walkway and sending its fragments out like immense shrapnel. Its jaws clicked once- sparks flaring in its teeth, then a spray of fluid flame washed over a district before it. Hundreds of feet of wooden and brick building set alight in an instant as its maw dragged through the air. 

The Tani-ninja he was beside stumbled at the sight, gasping in horror at the destruction unfolding. A great burst of smoke billowed out on the far side of the village, a massive white bird bursting forth and smashing a clawed foot into the side of the snake’s head. A heron of some variety- about half the side of the snake itself. 

The snake twisted, a bare bleeding scratch forming on the side of its head. The Heron looked distinctly disturbed and worried at that as it fluttered back to avoid a retaliatory strike. 

Showtime.

Ryoma’s bleeding palm slammed into the ground.

“SUMMONING! GREAT DRAGOON!”

He was engulfed in smoke, and the earth shook as a five meter, fifteen-thousand pound giant of wood and steel arrived on the battlefield.

Chapter 39

Sunagakure

Ryoma, Jonin

The Mk2 was something of a personal disappointment to Ryoma. Sure it was, objectively, a far more potent puppet than the Mk1 had ever been, and included a great of his planned upgrades, but it was both downscaled from his initial designs due to the realities of physics and not nearly powerful enough to matter against the opponents to come in only a few more years.

“Toyoko, Tsubame! Long range support from this position! Hotaru- set up a defensive perimeter and keep them protected!” He ordered as his hands jumped through additional seals. A sand-clone rose out of the scattered particulate around him, and Ryoma slapped its hand with his bleeding palm before jumping up and crawling into the hatch in the back of the Mk2.

“Ryoma, fall back! We aren’t prepared to fight!” Tsubame yelled at him, lagging on the hill behind him.

The Mk2 was filled with what he could only describe as ‘teething issues’, a compounding series of smaller flaws and inefficiencies that added up to significantly damage its intended performance. Ryoma had been expecting the Mk1 to be a shitty boondoggle when he started planning it, so he hadn’t run into this same kind of disappointment. His mistake here was getting his expectations up about his own competence in mechanical engineering and design. 

Ryoma would likely appease her if he said something like ‘we can’t abandon our allies’ or something like that, but knowing the full context of this event made it hard to lie like that. The sand-clone Ryoma, Cloma, instead barked out. “Initiative!”

“D-damnit Ryoma! You’re still injured!” Toyoko yelled up, a bit behind Tsubame on the hill and doing her best to catch up. “Summoning the Mark-Two is- you idiot! 

Whatever she was about to say next was cut off by the hiss-roar of the immense, rampaging serpent down in their allied village. It attempted to chase the massive Heron briefly, before stopping at the edge of the mountain-valley and twisting back to crush more buildings under its scaled bulk. 

Ryoma took a steadying breath as he connected his chakra-strings to the Mk2. Twelve from his actual body, five from the clone outside. Behind his head in the piloting chamber, a large wooden wheel slowly slid clockwise. 

One hundred and eighty degrees of rotation and eight clicks later, and it locked into place. The circuit-seal was completed, and the artificial chakra network of the Mk2 came to life. A vibrant green glow traced its way through lines of black ink all around the piloting chamber and from there into the rest of the massive puppet. 

Chakra Storage Seals had a number of fiddly quirks associated with them- the most immediately relevant one being the ‘plateaus of stability’. Each seal had a limited amount of chakra it could store, depending on the quality of the seal, so to increase the storage capacity one merely needed to link multiple such seals into the same network. However, this introduced instability into the system, and if you didn’t do it carefully, the entire seal would fall apart in an improvised bomb.

Certain quantities of storage seals were more stable than other quantities- the exact science behind why this was, he didn’t know. One, two, four, eight. Ryoma theorized that the next ‘plateau of stability was at sixteen, thirty two, and sixty four, but none of his designs in Suna were stable enough to stack that many seals together for extended durations.

With eight seals and six motes per seal, the Mk2 could store forty-eight motes of chakra at a time. A little bit more than his own reserves. Ryoma’s reserves were not all that big.

Ponderously, the Mk2 rose from its kneel, eyes beginning to burn a vibrant green and the same light spilling out from the gaps in its toothy grin. Cloma hopped up, hooking fingers around the forearm to toss himself all the way up to its shoulder. One hand held in a half-seal. 

The giant snake made a sudden twist, smashing another building as it avoided the Heron’s scarred beak and then twisting into a devastating tail-lash that sent the immense bird stumbling back. From what he could estimate, the snake was large enough to swallow the Mk2 whole.

The Great Dragoon made one massive step forwards, immense springs in its legs groaning as it began to move. Ryoma kept his eyes on the sensor-shiki in the cockpit- a hexagram that could sense chakra signatures and ratios of Yin and Yang out to three kilometers in all directions. 

The massive fire breathing snake was probably the largest glowing dot, and the high Yin ratio indicated that it was probably female. 

A Yin-heavy signature moved onto his position. Tsubame landed next to his clone on the Mk2’s shoulder. 

“Thought I told you to provide ranged support.” Cloma pointed out with an irritated tone, the Mk2 making another massive stomp forwards, picking up speed with the flexing of its springs. 

“This is not a mission. You have no present authority to command me.” She shot back, a small puff of smoke coming off her as she began to withdraw her own weapons. 

Two signatures, one heavy-yang and the other heavy-yin, approached from behind, Cloma glanced to see the Tani-ninja similarly jumping up to him. They landed on his other shoulder a few moments later. “Suna! Are you resolved to aid us?” The male asked sharply, kneeling slightly unsteadily, rocked about by the massive steps of the Mk2.

“We’re allies, aren’t we?” Cloma responded tensely, staring dead ahead at the immense, writhing snake. It smashed into another building, teeth sparking as it swerved around a wave of sharpened river water, and another handful of chakra-signatures vanished from his ‘screen’. The Great Dragoon raised a hand, pointing its arm at the rampaging snake.

The male nodded sharply. “We need to drive it out of the village center- battling it there is causing entirely too much destruction!”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Cloma nodded, changing his half-handseal into another. “Scatter when we reach the buildings- I can’t fight properly if I have to worry about people on my puppet.” 

They nodded, bouncing off a few moments later and landing on rooftops on the outskirts of the village. Tsubame didn’t move. 

“That includes you, Tsubame.” Cloma continued. “I can’t fight effectively if I’m having to worry about turning you into a red smear the whole time.” Emphasizing his point, the Mk2 brushed against a building and noisily shattered its clay tiles in the process. “Staying on my shoulder is going to get me killed against this thing.”

“Chunin Gentai was correct to label you an idiot.” Tsubame declared, bursting off his shoulder and onto the rooftops, quickly moving away forwards and to the left. He had been about to say something else, but she was already gone. 

He sighed inside the cockpit, and made a note to buy her something afterwards. Maybe some expensive snacks or something. The speaker lowered itself in the cockpit and clicked on- the fuzzy sound of a microphone turning on followed.

The serpent twisted around an arcing artillery-salvo of disgusting, bubbling acid, jaws clicking and teeth sparking as it readied to fire another stream of liquid-fire at its attackers. 

A pair of three-foot missiles smashed into the side of its face, and a wooden giant roared from the other side of the central river with a booming, faintly mechanical timbre.

“HEY DICKASS!”

The world seemed to shake with the force of the explosion that followed, and the serpent briefly disappeared behind a wave of heat, light, and force.

The serpent staggered, bulk smashing into the building behind it, scattering dust, bricks, and tiles with the impact. Missiles weren’t a massive improvement over his explosive kunai- not at ninja scales at least. The vast majority of ninja battles took place at ten meters or less, after all, and all a missile did was be a somewhat faster, longer-ranged version of his explosive kunai.

They weren’t incredibly advanced missiles either- more like fireworks than anything else, so if he needed a bigger boom he could just put more boom on a kunai and fire that. Of course, ‘slightly faster and longer ranged’ wasn’t too important for human-scales, but it was very important for the scales that his Mk2 operated at. 

He was already going all in on the pricing- there wasn’t much point in skimping out on the ammo after. Each of these missiles had four explosive seals wrapped around their body at full, six-mote charge. The equivalent to about twenty four of his explosive kunai, each.

Not even half a Bolter. Eight missiles remaining. 

“Continue the attack!” A distant voice roared, a half-dozen ninjutsu coming from rooftops and smashing into the staggered form of the serpent. Water rose from the river in killing-shapes, and earth shattered into spikes and brambles around it. All converged onto a single point, making the immense beast disappear behind the resulting dust and rubble.

It wasn’t dead. Ryoma could see its chakra-signature on the hexagram. The dot moved rapidly towards him, but he couldn’t see the snake anywhere- it was underground. Cloma leapt off and onto the nearby rooftops, raising both hands and connecting a full set of strings to the Great Dragoon.

“Hold ninjutsu!” the same voice from earlier called out. 

“Did we get it?” A feminine voice yelled out a question of her own.

The signature was on his position. Cloma ripped its hands to the side as Ryoma took a step, turned the heavy torso of the Mk2, and pulled its arms back. 

The Mk2 smashed into the side of a building, barely avoiding the immense serpentine head as it exploded from the street below him- sand scattering around them as it burst forth. From this close, Ryoma could confirm that it was large enough to swallow the Mk2. In slow-motion, Ryoma could faintly see its slitted eye turn to lock onto him.

The Great Dragoon grinned so that Ryoma didn’t have to. Its palms slammed into the side of the serpent’s scaled bulk. Vibrant green light spilled its way down the arms as the Shiki mounted on the end roared to life. 

Two instances of ‘Great Breakthrough’ activated. Six motes expended. Forty two motes remaining.

“DEMON TOSSES DRAGON!” The Great Dragoon roared as twin hurricane-force winds exploded out of its hands. The serpent- already on an upwards velocity, had no grounding to push against.

It flew, smashing into a building on the next street over, then sliding for a way to destroy another line of village houses, then thrashing to collapse a shrine as it rose furiously. One dot on his hexagram blinked out of existence. 

“BURN.” The serpent clicked its teeth as it rose, a wave of liquid fire rushing towards him and dominating his view. The Mk2 raised its shield calmly, a large plate carved in the shape of a three-eyed ogre and mounted on the left forearm.

“FIRE EATING SEAL.” A spiral of green light issued out of the left eye of the shield, crashing against the wave of fire and forcing it to twist, slowly sucking a wave of hateful flame into the eye and leaving the Mk2 unscathed. The heavy left brow slid down, over the eye and closing the seal. The buildings around him were engulfed in a brand new layer of flame. 

The Great Dragoon’s jaw clicked open, revealing another shiki behind its teeth, glowing a vibrant green. “AIR BULLETS.” A three-shot salvo of spiralling wind fired from its mouth, smashing through distant buildings as the snake writhed out of the way. The Great Dragoon’s jaw clicked closed. Three motes expended. Thirty nine motes remaining. 

Cloma jumped forwards across the rooftops, the Great Dragoon following ponderously on the streets below him. 

The serpent coiled up to leap- only for the immense clawed feet of the Heron to smash down into its face from above. The head crashed into the street below, cratering it with the force of impact and shattering nearby windows.

“Vile Snake.” The Heron called down at it, flapping a pair of immense wings and dragging the serpent towards the edge of the village. The serpent writhed and coiled as it was pulled towards a more exposed slope and away from the village center. “You Should Not Have Come.”

The snake went limp for a moment, then twisted suddenly. Its bulk rose up and slammed into the Heron from behind, tossing it forwards with an earth-shaking crash to the ground, and allowing the Serpent to press down upon it. They carved a groove through the earth for another dozen feet, sliding along with the immense momentum of their passing motions. “I GO WHERE I PLEASE, MEAL.”

The serpent continued to coil for a moment, audibly crushing the bird beneath it for several long moments. The Great Dragoon moved as fast it could through the thin streets, smashing apart awnings and shattering the road with its slightly bouncy pace. The right arm rose, firing another missile up and out of the streets just in time for Cloma to leap off the roof and stick to the side. 

Chakra strings detached from the Great Dragoon, which pretended to slump against the nearest building, crushing brickwork and windows with its bulk. They reattached to the missile, as Cloma asserted his control over the firework to angle it through the air.

For a few moments, Cloma knew what it was like to fly. He let go after those few moments, dropping out of the air and flashing through handseals. 

The snake twisted out of the way of the missile, letting it crash into the injured Heron. The Heron shook with the impact briefly, then disappeared in a cloud of smoke, returning to wherever it had been summoned from. 

The serpent almost seemed to grin as its teeth sparked. It opened its mouth, licks of flame beginning to emerge from the maw as Cloma fell through the air.

The snake staggered and screamed suddenly, a line flashing through the air and smashing into its left eye, hitting with a tremendous boom and spray of boiling blood. The side of its face gouged out by an invisible drill. A ripple of spiraling wind followed in the wake of the arrow- Tsubame’s technique. 

Cloma smirked as he landed, a blood-stained hand smashing into the ground. “Summoning.”

The snake’s head returned just in time for the palms of the Great Dragoon to burst out of a cloud of smoke and smash into its snout. A toothy, wooden grin greeting its remaining good-eye. 

“DEMON TOSSES DRAGON.”

Six motes expended. Thirty-three motes remaining. 

The Serpent rolled as it was tossed, smashing through a handful of exterior buildings, immense trees, and then against a rocky face of the mountain itself. The hurricane-force winds from his palm-strike tossing it and carving a line of destruction in the earth in its wake.

The Great Dragoon was not a discriminate puppet. It twisted one arm around to have the ogre-faced shield face towards the snake, brow clicking up and eye beneath glowing green-red.

“YOU DROPPED THIS, MONSTER.”

The Serpent’s earlier wave of fire raced forwards as it escaped the eye-seal, setting the earth alight with flicking tongues. The Shiki on his other palm glowed green.

Wind Feeds Fire. Three motes expended. Thirty motes remaining.

The Hurricane force chakra from his palm drove the snake’s flames into sweltering heights, washing over it completely and shrouding the entire mountainside with flames. The heat was intense enough to feel even through the armor of the Great Dragoon, making Ryoma calmly sweat in his seat as he lowered his limbs and focused on the hexagram.

The snake was still alive, and moving through the earth again. He raised the sluggish arms of the Dragoon to point at Toyoko’s position on the mountainside, then raised one finger, then held it briefly. The chakra signature was heading…

He pointed at the ground beneath his feet, then kicked back as Cloma yanked the Great Dragoon through the air. The feet landed a moment later and carved grooves through the earth as the Snake’s head emerged once more, maw already full of flame and angled down at him. 

It had learned.

The Great Dragoon raised its shield as fire washed over it. Cloma was incinerated in an instant, the briefest sensation of being reduced to ashes coming to him from the active link. Half a moment later the Fire-Eating Seals activated, devouring the flames that engulfed him with spiraling-cones and snapping shut after.

A thunderous boom and pained hissing-roar echoed through the valley as Toyoko’s artillery-puppet landed a direct strike into the Serpent’s maw. 

Half a moment later- the Serpent disappeared in an explosion of smoke. A sandy hole was left behind where its head had emerged from the ground, wide enough around that the entire Great Dragoon could slide down.

The sounds of crackling fires drifted over the Village Hidden in the Valleys. A proper Warfan user probably could’ve killed the Snake in a few well-placed bladed storms. The Mk2 struggled to do anything but toss it around. 

The Great Dragoon turned about slowly, using its basic eyes to take in the village around it, massive grooves carved into it and fresh sinkholes dragging nearby buildings down. Fires raged across several districts, already being addressed by a handful of ninja with water ninjutsu pulling from their central river. 

Chakra signatures were approaching his position. 

He spun the wheel behind his head, slowly disconnecting the chakra-storage seals from the central array and letting the green glow fade from the frame. As soon as it was safely turned off, he dismissed the frame.

Ryoma fell out of the air as a cloud of smoke replaced his giant puppet, landing harshly on the burned earth and immediately hopping up.

The earth was very, very hot at the moment, he hopped on alternating feet as he moved out of the smoke.

Not the most dignified way to meet with the handful of elite ninja of Tanigakure, Ryoma had to admit, as he hopped out of the cloud of smoke and towards unburned, lower-temperature ground. 

Chapter 40

Tanigakure

Ryoma, Jonin

“Condition?” 

As usual, Tsubame was quick to get worked up over nothing in particular. “No further damage, chakra reserves at eighty percent, currently hot and sweaty.” He left out that the Mk2 was probably covered in scorch marks and abrasions from colliding with the buildings on several occasions, he could fix those later. 

“Good.” Her slightly spiteful glare made him confused if she was expressing relief that his condition was good or joy that he was uncomfortable. He sent a bewildered glance towards the woman before rolling his eyes and waving a hand towards Toyoko’s position, indicating that they should approach. 

That done, he returned his gaze to the ash-choked village and the fires that continued to rage across several districts. They wouldn’t have had any warning about this attack, and if their deployment rates were anywhere similar to Suna, a great deal of their mid and high ranking ninja would’ve been out of the village, performing missions. That left only their garrison of highest-ranking ninja and low-level ninja in the village, in addition to a handful of off-duty middle-roaders.

Suna had about eleven thousand ninja from last he checked, plus or minus about five percent. Tani, from the estimate provided at the secret briefing, had perhaps one thousand ninja, plus or minus ten percent. Ryoma didn’t know precisely how many could’ve died in something like this- but probably not more than a hundred.

The problem for Tani would be how many elites they lost in this.

A pair of Tani-ninja landed before them, one male clad in their signature fishnets and the female clad in what looked like a pair of sauna towels and a bad mood. Several broth swathes of their skin was covered in nasty but superficial burning. “Suna.” The male greeted with a sharp nod and frown. “Thank you for the assistance, why are you here?” The bare minimum of courtesy followed by a blunt demand for motivation- ninja paranoia was always heightened after a sudden and unexpected issue cropped up. 

Ryoma didn’t blame them. “Well- I was here to buy something from your village- that Senju Wood Tani passed along a message about a little while ago.” He stopped, then glanced around at the destruction. “I got a little side-tracked, looks like.”

The black-haired male narrowed his eyes suspiciously, before exchanging a glance with the female. She shook her head around in a confused manner, before turning her gaze back to him, hand holding up her towel. “The- the Senju Wood? The last time we picked up something like that was… a year ago?”

Ryoma stared blankly at her for a few moments.

“Oh.” He replied somewhat lamely, reaching up to scratch the side of his eyes. “They didn’t tell me that.”

“You do not have the material we traveled all the way from Suna and battled a great Snake for?” Despite her somewhat accusatory tone, Tsubame’s eyes were fixed squarely on the side of his head, and not at the Tani Ninja. “What a disaster, what a mistake, perhaps someone should’ve verified how recent the information was before we left. That would’ve been wise and prudent.” 

Ryoma purposefully did not look at Tsubame as she elaborated. “I uh… Do you have any left?” He tried with a slightly awkward tone, reaching back to rub the flexible mesh that protected his neck. “And- can I use the services of your messenger hawks? I should probably send a message to Lord Kazekage about this.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the destroyed hillside and burning buildings. Some of which were already doused from last he checked, with towers of steam starting to rise through the air. 

Tsubame maintained her glare at the side of his face. The pair of Tani-ninja glanced at each other somewhat awkwardly. “You’d have to ask Lord Ichirounagi… I’m not sure how much time he has for you at the moment.”

Ryoma nodded in understanding. “Would you like us to help with the disaster-relief or camp outside the village until things are stable?”

“Remain outside, if you would.” The woman stated bluntly, nodding at him. Perfectly reasonable, he wouldn’t want some ninja from another village poking around while he was trying to put out fires and pull people out of rubble. Ryoma nodded in turn before waving them off and turning back to trek back up the hill, towards the crack in the ridge that led out of the valley. 

“We’ll wait out by the bridge then.” 

A few moments later they leapt away again, towards the center of their village and out of sight. Ryoma continued walking up the hill, focusing on the dull pain in his ribs from the raised steps so he could ignore the glare maintained on the back of his head. At least one of them was following behind them- but he couldn’t keep track of them with his helmet still shattered like it was from his encounter with Jiraiya.

Time on the road didn’t exactly permit the free time needed to fashion a new traveling helm, and all that. He was stuck with his Combat, Gas, or Scout helms, and none of them were especially appropriate for the situation.

“Ryoma!” Toyoko shouted, sliding to a stop a few dozen meters up along the hill. He waved lazily as he continued walking up and along. She had an expression that was simultaneously elated and also furious. “I- you- deployment of the Mk2 in a situation like this- it’s good that it’s so overbuilt, otherwise we would’ve lost it you stupid brave moron!” She gesticulated rapidly as she spoke, as if gesture would help her communicate her delighted outrage to him. She was one of the few already read-in on the Mk2 and how secret it was, and had been at the previous test-deployments.

Stomping two bandit camps into the ground while escorted by two full teams wasn’t exactly the same as deploying the Mk2 suddenly and against a giant snake- even if Ryoma already knew to expect one. He stayed quiet as he approached, letting her vent her frustrations and giddiness on her own time. 

“And the palm-shiki worked perfectly- Of course tossing a giant snake around wasn’t their intended usage, but- and the textbook execution of a wind-fire combination ninjutsu using the captured fire technique was- everyone in Tani saw that- Uah! Everyone in Tani saw it! This is- this is really bad- this is really, really bad-”

“Uhm-” Hotaru spoke up, fingers splayed out and a collection of spiderlike puppets gathered around her. The iconic ‘Gagomorus’ or whatever they were called, a design she had been iterating upon for about as long as he’s known her- which wasn’t very long admittedly. “What- what was that, big-?”

“Above your authorization, Chunin.” Ryoma stated quickly and bluntly, gazing a glance towards her. She almost immediately jumped, flinching back and raising her arms in a protective fashion in front of herself. 

“I’m sorry!”

Toyoko also went quiet, clamping and glancing nervously at the slightly taller woman. She was perhaps realizing that she shouldn’t be talking too much about the capabilities of the Mk2 while Hotaru was present.

“No worries.” Ryoma waved off, walking past them casually. “You didn’t know- you saw it, you know that it exists, but don’t ask anything about it until we get approval from the higher ups, alright?” He gave a little smile, not that his lower face was visible, and a thumbs-up towards the sufficiently-intimidated woman. 

“I- okay.” Hotaru quickly replied, staring at him like he was a dangerous creature through the gaps in her arms, then flinching back from Tsubame as she passed by. 

This was why he brought Hotaru- a non-suspicious actor to be involved who absolutely wasn’t cleared to know anything about the Mk2, and thus let him avoid explaining why he had deployed it in this circumstance long enough to be back in the village and thus- subject to whatever ‘punishment’ the Kazekage would subject him to.

And once the Kazekage had interrogated him about it, Tsubame and Toyoko wouldn’t have any actual reason to ask anymore except their own curiosity.

“Tani doesn’t want us around the village while they’re getting things fixed up- so we’ll be camping out near the bridge for the night.” Ryoma explained casually, gesturing for them to follow behind him. “I’ll see if they’ll let me use one of their hawks tomorrow- to send a message about this to the Kazekage.”

“I can summon a hawk.”

Ryoma kept walking for a few moments, before slowing down and looking back at the aloof face of Toyoko.

“You can summon hawks?” He asked with a slightly stunned tone. “Since when?”

“Since the Third War?” Toyoko replied with a raised brow, catching up to him now that he had paused. “A robust and effective communications network is vital for the regular operation of a modern military force, Ryoma.”

“Well I agree with that much- but I didn’t know you could summon hawks.” Ryoma shook his head and kept walking.

“Not hawks. Hawk.” Toyoko clarified with a frown. “My father purchased a lifetime contract with the Hawks as a graduation gift, after I expressed interest in it. So long as I live and maintain proper protocol with them, the Hawks are obligated to provide one dedicated retainer to transport my messages, and replace them if they die and the contract is not broken.”

“I forgot how mercenary the Hawks were.” Ryoma muttered, rubbing at his lower mask. Hawks were something of a constant in communications, there wasn’t a state in the modern world that didn’t rely upon them as messengers in some capacity. He was pretty sure their official contract was actually held by the Fire Daimyo, but the Fire Daimyo didn’t interfere with their side-contracts as a rule.

He knew that most ninja villages maintained a roster of long-term hawks to transport their messages, but hearing that an individual could buy such a contract was news to him. “How much did that contract cost? Do you know?” He asked directly, tapping a finger on his mask.

“I would have to ask my father- I do know that the Hawks only trade in Talents.” Toyoko answered with a shake of her head. A ‘Talent’ was the older, more traditional currency used in the Five Great Nations. A remnant of the old Imperial financial system- and the largest denomination of such, being about seventy five pounds of material in the form of a large stamped ‘plate’.

Only trading in Talents meant that the Hawks were fucking pricey. Ryoma huffed and nodded. “I see, thank you- Summoning your contracted hawk would be helpful, yes.”

“I will as soon as we reach the Great Bolter.” She confirmed with a nod. “Did you ask about the Senju Wood?”

“His news is outdated by a year.” Tsubame immediately interjected without giving him a chance to speak. Ryoma sighed as Toyoko let out an outraged squawk and Hotaru flinched.

Thank you Tsubame, he needed this lecture.

—

“Heyyy~ If it isn’t Mister Suna-nin himself.” A familiar face and lazy wave greeted them at the edge of their little camp. 

Ryoma regarded her with a blank gaze for a few moments- mostly at the extensive layer of bandages that crept up along her left leg and onto her midriff, and the scent of medical gauze and burn-treatment creams. It was the same ninja from Tani that he met on the mission to Tea Country some three years ago, looking much the same as she did then save the clear burn wounds. 

“Oh hey.” He snapped his fingers idly, pushing up from his seat near the little campfire and the fried fish on skewers. “It’s you, miss whatever your name was.” Tsubame was staring at the woman with a steady eye, while Toyoko blearily glared back and forth between himself and the Tani-nin. A morning person she was not.

Hotaru hadn’t slept, he could tell by the bags under her eyes and the distinct scent of someone who had been fiddling with something for many hours when they should’ve been resting. It was kind of like old sweat. 

“Ah, you can call me Onee-san~” The Tani ninja gave a little salute and cocked her hips to the side.

“I’m not going to do that.” Ryoma replied bluntly. “Are you here to escort us to your Head Ninja?” 

She nodded in a slow and somewhat oblivious manner, turning around with a distracting sway and a curled finger. “Come on in, Mister Suna nin~”

“It doesn’t work when I know what you’re doing.” Ryoma rolled his eyes. It also didn’t work because he kept glancing at your bandages instead of her butt. It was a very nice butt, but he wasn’t in the mood to get worked up about it. “C’mon, let's go see if they still have it.” He reached down, taking up the mostly-cooked fish-skewer and taking an experimental bite under his veil. Sure enough- it burned his mouth.

“Do you know this woman, Ryoma…?” Toyoko asked with a tone of suspicion. 

“She’s Miss Sexual-Harrassment.” Ryoma lied with a casual nod, making the Tani-nin stumble in her sexy strut. “She starred in two Icha-Icha novels and is well known for her inability to keep a long-term boyfriend.”

“You’re quick to lie about our special nights together, Suna-nin” Tani-nin swayed about, clasping her hands and resting her cheeks against them. “After we got each other all hot and sloppy”

“Fighting against an empowered Laughing Smoke, yes.” Ryoma continued without skipping a beat. “How have you been, Miss Sexual-Harrassment?”

“Better, I suppose. It could’ve been worse if it wasn’t for Mister Suna pounding with his big wooden thing~”

His mask was good for hiding the sudden downward twitch in his lips. “I don’t need the services of your resident hawks- one of us turned out to have a private contract.” Ryoma shrugged as he changed the topic. “I sent it last night.”

Tani-nin glanced back at him, eyes narrowing slightly before her head tilted. “A message huh? Is it classified or anything?”

“Telling the Lord Kazekage that our long-term allies were attacked by a giant snake.” Ryoma replied in deadpan thick enough to bury whatever else he was feeling at the moment. “That seems important to do, don’t you think?”

She gave a little nod in acquiescence. “I see, I see. That makes sense to me.” She waved them on and twirled on her uninjured leg to face away from him again. “Well come along- Lord Ichirounagi has time to see you now.”

They crested over the ridgeline once more, getting a more clear view of what the damages were. Tani was covered in the shadow of the mountain, cast by the morning sun, and immense grooves and holes riddled its bulk like some immense sword had cut and stabbed through it a dozen times. What regions of the village that were not stabbed and cut were instead burned, entire blocks reduced to mounds of ash surrounded by blackened buildings and streets. 

Glancing to the side, the most significantly burned region was outside the village proper- a conical wave of black destruction that swept along the north-eastern mountainside and reduced everything there to toppled stones and burned brush. His work.

Tani, needless to say, did not look to be in very good shape at the moment. The great snake had been rather strategic in its application of fire to supplement its destruction.  

Of course, damage to a village itself was mostly superficial. All it took was time and money to replace it, and ninjutsu could be used to put up new walls faster than any conventional construction technique. The electrical and water infrastructure would take more time, as would the furnishings and roofs, but that wasn’t too bad either.

No, the most devastating blow a ninja village could suffer is a loss of ninja- those were the most expensive things they had. 

“There he is.” Tani-nin helpfully pointed out, finger extended forwards for a man who stood on the hillside overlooking the village. 

A tall and buff fellow wearing a flowing haori, a sumo-wrap, and very little else. The haori had what looked like abstract depictions of koi swimming around on it, and his light brown hair was done up in a traditional looking bun. Despite the sumo-adjacent attire, ‘Ichirounagi’ frame bulged with muscle absent of almost any concealing fat. 

Ryoma idly noted that he was actually taller, now that they were getting closer. Tani-nin dropped into a full kneel as they reached speaking range of the Head Ninja of Tani. “Lord Ichirounagi.” She greeted with quiet respect. 

He glanced their way. Ryoma gave a little nod and wave. 

Ichirounagi nodded, then faced forwards again. “Ninja of Suna, Tanigakure owes you a debt for your intervention, and as the boss of this village, I am obligated to answer it. I’m told you came to purchase the Senju Wood, yes?”

“That’s correct- Though I hear it's been some time since you’ve actually… had it.” Ryoma rubbed the mesh at the back of his neck. “I forgot to check how recent the information was- that’s my fault.”

“It’s no matter. We retain half of the block. The other half has been sold to a private collector already.” Ichirounagi declared with a frown. “It is a commodity that lacks abundant buyers.”

“Oh, that’s good. I can work with half.” Ryoma nodded casually, reaching into his vest for a scroll of money. “I’m willing to begin at one-million for-”

“Sold. It is yours.” The Head Ninja nodded down at the kneeling Tani-nin. “Ane, go retrieve the block, it should be in the bunker underneath the HQ- go by the secondary route, the main route is blocked by collapsed rubble.”

“Yes sir!” She replied, rising from her kneel and bouncing away carefully. She only hopped on her uninjured leg each time, he noticed. 

“...You would’ve agreed to whatever price I first suggested, wouldn’t you have?” Ryoma asked ruefully.

“I would have.”

Ryoma sighed and shook his head, a little smile on his lips as he tossed the money-scroll over. Ichirounagi caught it easily, slipping it into an inner pocket of his haori. Ryoma was about to ask something else, but was cut off as Tsubame declared something sharply.

“Warfan from the south-west.” 

They all stiffened slightly, turning their gaze in the direction mentioned. Sure enough, there in the sky was a lone warfan of the same type used by the Shiki Corps, gliding rapidly towards them.

Eventually it got close enough for two figures to be visible upon its frame, standing aloft the lone wing and looking down at the half-destroyed village. It circled once, more and more ninja of Tanigakure stopping their work as they noticed the warfan above, attitudes tense with the recent attack.

Eventually, the warfan began a downwards circling pattern, and one of the figures stepped off. Plummeting to the ground rapidly was a black-robed man with rusty red hair, gently caught up a thin arm of golden sand that rose from the earth and then settled into a shadow as his sandaled feet touched the ground.

The Lord Kazekage stood slightly above them on the slope, staring down at the damaged Tanigakure with furrowed brows and frown. A few moments later, Captain Arada fell out of the sky and landed next to him, folding the massive warfan and sheathing it on his back as he landed. 

“...Rasa.” Ichirounagi greeted tensely after several long moments of silence. 

“Ichirounagi.” Rasa greeted in turn, but saying nothing more, keeping an evaluating glare on the village. After a few moments, he stepped down the hill to approach them. 

“Jonin- I have need of your headband.” Rasa pointed at him. Ryoma blinked before nodding, reaching up to his bicep to untie his symbol of Suna allegiance and toss it over. Rasa caught it, inspected it briefly, then took another step.

“You’ll need this.” The Kazekage declared, staring into Ichirounagi’s eyes and headband held towards the Head Ninja of Tanigakure. 

The valley was dead silent for a few moments.

“...Rasa…” Ichirounagi replied coldly, eyes narrow. “What are you saying?”

“The damage sustained by Tanigakure is sufficiently crippling that Suna will be obligated to base a garrison in the region as a first line of defense to protect Tani from a major power, as per the terms of our treaty.” Rasa explained, equally cold. “Suna cannot presently afford to do this. To resolve this, I am absorbing Tanigakure into Sunagakure effective immediately. The Head Ninja of Tanigakure will be inducted as a Corps Captain and his current ninja structured beneath him in accordance with the Corps system.”

The silent, seething outrage was almost deafening.

Ichirounagi’s fists clenched hard enough for the knuckles to pop. He closed his eyes with a completely calm face, taking several long, deep breaths. 

Not a soul dared to break the silence. 

Then, suddenly, Ichirounagi’s hand moved.

It took hold of the headband. “You’re a bastard, you know that?” The head ninja spat out.

“I’ll dedicate a larger portion of the budget to getting your Corps HQ set up in Sunagakure. Have your ninja pack extra in their bags.” Rasa responded just as cold and calm as before. “The trip is long if you don’t know it.”

Interlude 17

Konohagakure

Jiraiya of the Sannin, Jonin of Konohagakure

It had been awhile since he’d been back home. Not since the attack Minato called him back to help with- and that was more than a year ago. He sighed and shook his head, a small rueful smile on his lips as he walked along the packed dirt that lead back into the bustling hidden village. 

“Hey! If it isn’t Lord Jiraiya!” A pair of familiar Uchiha stood at the gates, turning to face him with grins and waves. The regular gate-watchers of the Konoha Police Force, men almost as old as he was at this point. “What brings you back to Konoha, Ha?”

Jiraiya waved as he walked up to them. “Nothing in particular this time- I was in the area and thought I’d drop by, see what everyone is up to these days.” He chuckled and raised his hands, wiggling the fingers in a groping manner. “Maybe check out the hotsprings again while I’m at it! He-hah!”

“Same ol Jiraiya huh?” The one on the left rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. “I’d ask if you were worried about your reputation- but that’s a lost cause at this point!”

A mirror in the distance flashed, and the one on the left inclined his head. “Well don’t let us keep you, Lord Jiraiya- Me and this jerkass are the same as we’ve always been.” The delay was just long enough for the Barrier-Team to evaluate his chakra signature and confirm that he was indeed himself at the moment, and relay that to the guard watchers. The signs were almost invisible if you didn’t know what to look for.

Jiraiya chuckled, waving them off and resuming his walk into the village. The broad streets full of people, the kids playing with sticks and dogs, the occasional ANBU jumping openly across the rooftops- a reassuring gesture for the guys on the streets.

He raised a hand and flagged one down, hopping up to kick off against a street pole, then again off the side of a noodle shop, then again to reach the roofs proper. A few moments later, one of the passing ANBU landed next to him- Mantis by the mask.

“Lord Jiraiya, do you need something?” Mantis asked in a curt, polite manner. 

“That dweeb student of mine- is he at the office or at home right now?” He dropped the hand after flashing one of the old codes with his fingers. “I’d got some info for him- but if he’s busy…”

“Lord Fourth was at home, last time I was informed, Lord Jiraiya.” Mantis nodded. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nah- that’s all. Go on with whatever it was you were doing before.” Jiraiya waved off. “Thank you, Mantis.”

“Your welcome, Lord Jiraiya.” With that Mantis hopped away, and Jiraiya turned towards the center of the village with a little frown on his face. He knew more than anyone what a workaholic his student was. If Minato was enjoying some family time at the moment, he’d hate to interrupt it…

Jiraiya sighed, this was one of those things that was a bit too important to delay, unfortunately. He shook his head, hopped in the direction of the Namikaze house, and hoped he wasn’t about to crash something nice and relaxing.

After he interrupted that Suna attack in Claw country, he waited for an Iwa team to swing by, briefly explained the gist of what happened, and moved on. He made sure to describe the attackers as ninja from Rain instead of Wind, as a small courtesy for Suna with their alliance in mind. Would they believe that? Probably not, but it was enough to throw them off a bit. Hunter-Toads sent after their trail found a destroyed bridge at the end, then a path leading back into Wind where the sand swallowed the tracks.

His toads didn’t do well in the desert, so he went on foot down to his contacts in the Wind Capital after, and started asking around under a cunning disguise. 

He jumped down from the rooftops, wooden sandals making loud clacks as he hit the street below. A second to rise from his braced position later, and he stepped forwards to knock a predesignated pattern on the doorframe leading into the cozy family home. He could hear the sounds of children laughing in the walled yard behind the house, putting a merry little smile on his face as he waited at the door. 

A return-knock came from the other side of the door before it swung open. Blond, spiky hair with face-framing bangs and bright blue eyes. His student, goofy long-sleeved blue turtleneck shirt and all. “Jiraiya! I thought I felt you show up. Come in!” 

Jiraiya slipped off his big wooden sandals as he passed through the door, letting his bare feet tread across the hard wood floor inside. “Thought? I know I trained you better than that.” Jiraiya chuffed, slapping his student on the back. “You knew it was me the moment I was at the gates!”

Minato laughed awkwardly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Well- Yeah I suppose I did.”

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Jiraiya asked more seriously, smile falling a little bit and glancing around the house. No one was actually inside save the two of them- the rest were out in the yard, it seems.

“Oh- our youngest said their first words this morning- and Kushina demanded I take a day off to celebrate.” Minato chuckled ruefully, reaching up to scratch his cheek. “I had to ask Lord Danzo if he wouldn’t mind handling the paperwork for a day.”

“Hah- that old bonebag?” Jiraiya leaned in and nudged him in the side with an elbow. “Why didn’t you ask Hiruzen, huh? I’m sure he would’ve been happy to step in for a day.”

Minato’s face fell and he pressed his lips together. “Well- I didn’t want to bother him. He’s been in a pretty dour mood recently- which is my fault, of course- so asking him to step in would be…”

“Be a bit awkward, huh?” Jiraiya nodded in understanding, rolling his jaw. “I’ll have to ask what’s gotten him down- but later, later!” He waved both hands in front of himself. “I’d hate to interrupt a happy moment, but I do actually have some news-”

The door to the back swung open, and Jiraiya glanced over curiously. Long, vibrant red hair and deep green eyes, wearing a long green dress and cozy apron. Kushina of the Uzumaki clan- the last that he knew of, and his students spicy-sweet wife. 

His face fell in a combination of dismay and disbelief at her clearly-pregnant stomach. “Another?! How many are you two up to already?!” Jiraiya cried out, waving both hands around. 

Kushina’s face twisted into an evil grin as she stepped up to Minato, who looked sheepish. “I’m not stopping till we’re at nine! I got to at least match the fox!” She grinned competitively, embracing her husband from the side and holding him like an oversized trophy- as best as she could while being visibly pregnant at least. She pat her stomach in a triumphant manner. “This one will be four!”

“Four?!” Jiraiya asked, confused. Their firstborn wasn’t all that long ago, which meant…

“Twins!” She announced with a toothy grin. 

Jiraiya played up his surprise by comically falling back on the floor, feet in the air and body wiggling from theatrical astonishment. 

He pushed up with their shared laughter, opening up for a hug, which Kushina returned in an instant. “Heh- he’s good to see you’re doing well, Kushina.” 

“You old pervert- what brings you back to Konoha this time?” She laughed, stepping back and leaning her head against Minato’s shoulder.

Jiraiya’s smile fell, and he scratched the side of his head awkwardly. “Well- I don’t mean to interrupt your celebration today, but it’s serious business again this time.”

Kushina huffed slightly, cocking a hip and nodding. “Anything that would affect the kids?”

“I don’t think so?” He shook his head. “Not immediately, at least. It’s about money in Wind Country, of all things.”

“I see, I see.” She nodded with crossed arms, before leaning over and kissing Minato on the cheek. “Tell me if there’s anything serious, and don’t let this old perv keep you too long, alright? I want you back by dinner at least!”

Minato smiled and nodded, tapping his forehead against hers. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He pulled back, and Kushina waggled a finger as she returned to the back yard. 

“You better not!” With that, the door closed, and they were left alone in the house again. Minato’s smile fell into a somewhat more focused expression as he turned back to Jiraiya.

“Money in Wind Country?” He asked, stepping over to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle and two trays of sake. Jiraiya followed him to the table, taking a chair opposite to him and accepting the poured saucer. 

“What’s the most recent estimate for Suna’s financial troubles? About thirteen years before disaster?” Jiraiya began after a long sip. 

“Ten on the spot now- the Daimyo recently cut their yearly budget by about twenty percent.” Minato shook his head. “I suppose you found out on your own about it- it was pretty recent and you haven’t been back until now.”

“Recently, a team of Suna ninja including ‘Typhoon’ Arada tried to attack and destroy a Claw Country village friendly to Iwa.” Jiraiya took another sip, Minato’s eyes sharp and focused at the sudden reveal of information. “I was there to stop them. No damage was done to the village, and I lied to the Iwa team when they showed up demanding to know who had tried attacking, said it looked like a group from Rain.”

“That’s good, at least.” Minato frowned, taking another sip with furrowed brows. “It’s gonna be troublesome to deal with that though- Suna is probably going to want something in return for the interference… And if they’re attacking Claw Country… do you know why?”

“No- but they also destroyed at least one bridge before leaving, which tells me they probably aren’t pulling an offense here.” Jiraiya nodded confidently.

“Otherwise, why destroy your route deeper into the country?” Minato spoke the obvious question as he nodded in understanding. “Accepting a mission like this- The Kazekage isn’t stupid, they’d know what it would mean for relations with Iwa. Do you think they’re trying to provoke a later attack?”

Jiraiya pressed his lips. “...I’m not sure. That’s possible, but I’m not sure what they’d really gain from a move like that. Not unless they’re intending to start bleeding off Iwa teams to keep their rivals weak.”

“Playing the long term.” Minato nodded, before frowning and shaking his head. “I don’t think they’d make a move like that with the recent budget cut from the Wind Daimyo though. Wars between ninja are always costly, and they especially can’t afford one of those right now- not unless they’re anticipating more aid from Konoha than we’re prepared to give.”

“I’m not sure.” Jiraiya muttered, chewing on his thumbnail. “That Wind Daimyo- he’s convinced that his alliances with the other Great Countries means he doesn’t need to have such a large military anymore. He’s been cutting spending down to invest in large shipping fleets and reduced taxes. It’s noble, but word from the capital is that he doesn’t understand that you can’t simply downsize a military like he’s wanting.”

“I’d heard something like that.” Minato muttered, taking another sip. “Lord Danzo keeps suggesting that we have him killed and frame Kirigakure for the act to put increased pressure on them with their recent instability, and I keep having to politely tell him no.”

“Yeah that sounds like him.” Jiraiya shook his head. “Whatever their plans were- they were interrupted by an attack on their allies in Tani. I learned about it while traveling back from the Wind Capital.”

“An attack on Tanigakure?” Minato frowned seriously. So not a Konoha-sanctioned mission, from the looks of it.

“A giant snake rampaged briefly through their village.” Jiraiya frowned back. “Anything more is conjecture and rumor, but there’s already blame being assigned to Orochimaru. I’m not sure if this was just a random attack or it's someone trying to frame him here- but we’ll need to investigate further. I’ll see if he can ask the Snakes if they’ve formed any recent new contracts.”

Minato’s face was stony, slowly he set down his sake dish. Jiraiya frowned back. “You don’t think it was actually Orochimaru who did this, did you?”

“No- I’m almost certain it wasn’t Orochimaru who did this.” Minato shook his head before staring him straight in the eye. “Jiraiya. I was looking for an opportunity to tell you in person, but Orochimaru has been dead for several months.”

Jiraiya blinked, then almost dropped his dish. He reared back in surprise, setting the saucer down and putting both hands on the table. “He’s dead?!” He asked with a faint bewilderment. 

Orochimaru was entirely too strong, too slippery to just up and die! Jiraiya knew that mansnake better than almost anyone, he had backup plans for his backup plans- and he didn’t just jump into dangerous situations thoughtlessly. For him to have died meant a powerful adn unexpected-

Jiraiya’s brows furrowed. “Was it-?” Then he performed a handseal- one used to refer to the two subjects who attempted to attack during Kushina’s first pregnancy a few years ago. 

Minato slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t- I was the one who killed him.”

Jiraiya stared at his student for a few more moments, then slumped back in his chair. “That’s-that’s what got Hiruzen dour, isn’t it? I-” He stopped, licked his lips, and looked down at the table to collect his thoughts. “W-why?” He asked with a baffled expression.

It was about the only thing he could think of at the moment, repeating over and over in his head uselessly. Why did his student kill his old friend? He knew Minato well enough that he wouldn’t have just done it for no good reason.

“...We uncovered one of his labs.” Minato began slowly, fingers folded together and elbows on the table. “He attempted to escape when I asked him to come in for questioning, and then turned aggressive when I cornered him.” Minato reached down, pulling up his shirt to expose his torso-

-and the hideous, warped, twisting knot of scar tissue that dominated his lower right abdomen. “I was unable to subdue him nonlethally.” Minato’s voice was somber. “To survive his poison- I had to quickly remove the envenomed region.”

“One of his labs?” Jiraiya repeated dumbly, staring at the ugly wound with a sickened curiosity. What the hell was Orochimaru hiding that warranted such a reaction?

Minato nodded, dropping the shirt. “An experimental facility he requested and was granted access to for the sake of replicating the First Hokage’s Wood Release. Orochimaru claimed that he might be able to force an artificial cell division on dead tissue samples to replicate Hashirama Senju’s specific biological markers in lab conditions, and through doing so recreate a user of Mokuton through deliberate gene administrations.”

“...I don’t really get it.” Jiraiya muttered. 

Minato reached back to rub his neck again. “To be honest, I didn’t really get what he was talking about either- medicine has never been my strong suit.”

“Okay so- the Lab?” Jiraiya asked, leaning forwards. “What was the issue?”

Minato’s face darkened. “...Several orphaned subjects were removed from their homes and brought to the facility, I followed up on the investigation.”

Jiraiya felt a creeping, horrible dread rise in his gut.

“Of the sixty ‘subjects’ found in his facility, there was one survivor.” Minato continued, looking down. “The survivor did display the appropriate affinity for Wood Release, but…”

“Sixty.” Jiraiya repeated with a horrified expression. 

“...After his dead, his other laboratories were raided, all evidence gathered, and returned to Konoha for analysis. The number of expended test subjects located was… significantly more than sixty.” Minato shook his head, then nodded. “We found his apprentice in a Lab in the Land of Sea, delirious, sick, and branded with a strange type of seal, there was no reference to it in any of his recorded notes. I was planning on asking you to check on it when you returned.”

“A type of seal?” Jiraiya asked, mind sharpening and focusing around his area of focus. “What do you know about it so far?”

“It’s definitely not Fuinjutsu- or any kind of Shiki I’m familiar with.” As one of the foremost masters of Sealing and Jutsu Shiki in the world, hearing his student say that was deeply concerning. “I think- I think it may be a Juinjutsu of some type.”

A cursed seal technique. 

What the hell was Orochimaru playing with before he died?

Jiraiya pushed up from the table with a heavy brow and deep frown. “Show me.”

Minato nodded calmly, pushing up from the chair and stepping over to the door leading to the outside. He cracked it open and then called out. “Jiraiya and I have to run to the office for a moment!”

“I thought you left already!” Kushina called back distantly. “Ouah- don’t pull mommy’s hair, you brat!”

Jiraiya’s lips twitched up at the sounds of childish giggles, before falling sharply again.

“We’ll be back soon!”

“By dinner mister!”

Minato closed the door and nodded at him, stepping over to slip on shoes at the door. Jiraiya did the same before laying a hand on his student’s shoulder.

A moment later, with a flash of light, they were in the Hokage’s office.

An old man absolutely covered in bandages blinked over at them, holding a stamp above a document. His hair was dark and messy, pushed up by the layer of wrapping that covered the man’s forehead and right eye. An x-shaped scar across his chin made the old man very recognizable. 

“Lord Hokage, Lord Jiraiya.” Danzo greeted calmly, setting the stamp to the side and pushing up out of the chair. “Important business, I presume?” He took up a cane and stepped to the side, vacating the seat for Minato and bowing as best as his old spine was able.

“I’m afraid so- I just need to show Jiraiya the brand.”

“Ah. Yes, that would make sense.” Danzo nodded slowly, walking towards the door. “I will vacate the room for you then- I’ll make myself busy with the lounge room tea, I think.”

“Thank you, Lord Danzo.” Minato nodded, walking over to his desk and reaching into the desk. Two layers of unlocking and unsealing layer, and a small scroll was in his hands. As soon as Danzo had left the room, Minato called out. “Seal the chamber.”

The ANBU disguised as a potted plant unveiled himself in a puff of smoke, flashing through handseals and putting up a glowing barrier around the room.

Minato unfurled the scroll across the table, Jiraiya leaned forwards to look at the inscription.

The office was silent for a few moments.

“What the fuck is this?” Jiraiya quietly muttered.

Flashback Intermission 2

Third Shinobi Warzone

“Koto”, Suna ANBU Squad-Leader

The foremost virtue is motion. Motion was life. Motion was energy. Motion was victory. The principle applied to all things, but most especially to warfare. To remain still was to surrender movement, initiative, action to the enemy. 

Field Commander Ebizo understood this principle well, hence the nature of their deployments. So long as Konoha and Iwa maintained their aggressive pushes into Suna-aligned territories, Suna would need to maintain a roaming defense of the entire north-eastern quadrant. Positions needed to be held, attackers fended off, defenders repositioned, and the next attacks defeated.

Their numbers were not sufficient for a fully static defense, and neither was that the way of the ninja. That was the way of the samurai, of the footman, to hold and hide in fortresses. To wage war as a ninja was to be fluid, and to sublimate motion. 

Constant motion required constant energy. The young were rarely able to maintain this pace for long. 

A three meter giant of wood crashed down upon the battlefield, kicking up waves of ash with a creaking of steel and groaning of plates. Koto landed soon after, waving his hand at his subordinates. “Support the Weapon.” He commanded firmly through his veiled features. 

‘Keizobo’, ‘Iju’, and ‘Masaki’ gave a handseal to show affirmation, then leapt forwards to take positions around the wooden giant as it advanced. Koto watched them go for a moment, then turned his gaze down to the sand-filled trench he had landed next to. 

“Thirty-seven C. Lizard Squad, you are hereby relieved of this position. Return to HQ for further orders from Field Commander Ebizo.”

A head poked its way out of the sand, then two more. Heads wearing the headbands of Suna. The sand fell from around them, pouring into tunnels beneath their feet and revealing a trio of ninja giving affirmative salutes. “Thirty-seven J. ANBU, this position is in a precarious state. There’s at least a dozen enemy ninja waiting for us on the other side of the ashfield. Abandoning it would mean to allow them to penetrate into our defenses-”

“No.” He interrupted with a shake of his head. Distantly, a chorus of explosions rang out. “My group will eliminate the enemy.”

“Eliminate the enemy…” The team leader responded with a grimace and furrowed brows. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Koto grumbled, nodding briefly. This extended conversation was keeping him away from his team. Another series of explosions rang out, followed by the sounds of whistling needles and howling winds. “Return for recuperation and redeployment. That’s a direct order from the Field Commander.”

“Aye.” The team leader saluted with a frown. “Our remaining supplies are here, good luck.” He said, tossing a little scroll his way before signaling for his team to head out. They jumped out of the deep trench and away towards the south-west. 

Koto leapt forwards, towards the ensuing clash. 

It took a few moments to pass through the clouds of ash the wooden giant had left in the wake of its tremendous wind-fueled leaps. He emerged on the other and quickly spotted his team. The shattered remains of earth walls were erected at scattered locations, discarded metal fragments were scattered around, and a handful of bodies littered the ashfield. 

There in the center, moving ponderously onwards with arms raised and salvos of random metal fragments launching at a steady pace, was the wooden giant. Its vaguely egg shaped body suspended on thick clawed limbs, and its face was a heavy demon mask. It grinned, twisting erratically to bombard hastily-erected defenses.

“What the hell is that?!”

“Keep harassing it, don’t let it pin you!”

“The Suna ANBU are here- we can’t get a steady shot- gah!”

Koto jumped again, hand flashing and a trio of kunai flying through the air, down behind an earthen wall. The pair of konoha ninja behind said cover were competent enough to notice and leap away.

Exposing themselves in front of the wooden giant was their last mistake. A four-stream salvo of random metal shrapnel came flying out. Before they had even landed they were forced to defend themselves again, kunais raised to block. 

“Wind Release : Air Cutter.” Masaki calmly finished her hand seals, a wave of slicing wind catching both of the exposed and pinned Konoha ninja. The blade bifurcated them, sending their halves down to the ground.

A moment later, the halves burst into smoke to reveal chopped wooden logs. A substitution. 

“Fire Release : Great Fireball!” A roar came from their flank, a ninja of Konoha with black hair exhaling a great wave of incinerating flame. They wouldn’t have time to counter normally, forcing them to dodge. 

They wouldn’t need to. Koto lined up an attack, sheathing a kunai in violent wind chakras, and allowed the fireball to draw closer.

A soft voice called out from inside the wooden giant, barely audible over the violence of the battlefield. “Fire Eater Seal.”

A conical spiral of bright green chakra exploded out from the wooden giant’s eyes, catching the incoming fireball and drinking it, fire rapidly diminishing as it was sucked into a pair of glowing seals in the giant’s pupils. 

“What the-!” The black-haired enemy didn’t have time to finish, as Koto’s hurled kunai punched through his neck and sailed into the distance. He staggered, falling limp with the severing of his spine, making a puff of ash with his fall. 

The eyes of the wooden giant slid closed as the last of the fire was devoured within.

“It can negate our fire ninjutsu! Retrieve the bodies and retreat!” A strong voice called from the hazy distance.

The wooden giant turned to the noise, spinning on its pelvis. Its jaw clicked open, revealing a glimpse of a small figure inside, little hands flashing through seals. The Suna ANBU jumped up and back, away from the direction and defensively around the giant wooden puppet.

Koto made his own handseals. 

“Wind Release : Great Breakthrough.” The small, soft voice forced out. A great column of wind poured out of the wooden giant’s open maw and rushed towards the enemy.

The eyes of the mask opened again. A torrent of flame spilled out, unleashed back at the enemy. The flame set the winds alight, and the strong, wide gust of wind was suddenly turned into a great beam of white flames.

Koto finished his handseals. “Wind Release : Sandstorm Wind Wall.”

The beam of fire suddenly strengthened again, and widened considerably. A wall of blazing fire that made his front bake and his back frigid. Like opening a furnace door, the horizon before them turned into hot, hateful sunfire. 

The blaze roared loudly enough that the screams of dying enemies could scarcely be heard over it. 

They held their positions for a few long, stiff moments after. Silent and tense as they awaited any indication that the enemy was still alive. The fire died down slowly, revealing a wide, long section of ashfield that was simply charred slag. 

“Clear.” Masaki said from her side.

“Clear.” Keizobo repeated.

“Clear.” Iju finished.

Koto maintained his own watch for several tense seconds longer, before slowly nodding. “Clear. Fan out and retrieve everything.”

His team scattered. He turned to the wooden giant and nodded towards it. “Chunin, you are free to repair and rearm.” 

The wooden giant fell back into a limp seated position, maw still open, and the little figure crawled out. Tan robes, wooden sandals, and a straw hat. His brown hair was sticky and limp with sweat, and his eyes were ringed with exhaustion.

Priority escort Chunin Ryoma. Up and coming puppeteer. Connections to MIA Sasori of the Red Sands. Pilot of the ‘Wood Dragoon’ mass-combat puppet. 

Ryoma was young, and the youth had little in the way of stamina for war. Ryoma immediately staggered, legs shaky from disuse, then shook himself and retrieved a series of scrolls from his crumbled satchel. He began to mutter, strings of flickery green chakra extending from his fingertips and making various components of the wooden giant dissemble themselves. Seals and compartments were revealed, and he began to transfer scraps of metal from his bag-scrolls into the storage sections of his puppet.

An explosion in the distance caught his attention, he immediately swiveled, turning to the source. 

“Keizobo!” Iju called out, worriedly. 

Masaki moved forwards to investigate, disappearing into the cloud of ash. Koto held his position near the priority-escort, kunai raised defensively. Ryoma had flinched harshly, diving into cover behind the great frame of his wooden giant. Strings made it rise into a suddenly-ready position, the puppet coming to life ready to defend its master.

“...Man down.” Masaki called out, moving out from the smoke and carrying two corpses with her. A small fire smouldered behind her, and she placed the corpse near Koto’s feet. 

Keizobo, legs blown off and only stumps near the hips remaining, coughed up at him. “S-shit…” He groaned. “Two-layered self destruction seal…”

Koto crouched near him, eyes scanning to inspect the damages. High levels of heat-based damage all across the torso and arms, legs gone below the hips, bleeding already slowed, face undamaged. “You’ll survive.”

“But my career is over, isn’t it...?” Keizobo groaned out beneath a white veil. He leaned his head back, suppressing a writhe of pain. The stumps where his legs used to be rose up, holding an upwards position and staunching the bleeding further. “That bastard… ugh…”

Koto nodded sadly. Keizobo looked up at him, squinting through the pain he was in, before glaring and growling to the sky above. “Damnit… Losing at the very end huh? What a cheap trick.”

“You didn’t lose.” Koto declared, withdrawing a medical kit and crouching near the injured comrade. “They’re dead. You have achieved victory for Sunagakure on this day.” With that, he ripped away the slag that was Keizobo’s old pants. Keizobo clenched his jaw in agony as his wounds were freshly opened, but his training let him hold in the screams. 

Exposed, bloody scraps of flesh clung erratically to the stumps. Koto layered his hand in cutting wind chakra, and got to work.

Keizobo’s jaw clenched the entire time, muffled screams and stifled thrashes as Koto cleaned and patched his wounds. 

“I will be done in ten minutes. We move out by then.” Koto calmly ordered, turning to glance at Chunin Ryoma. 

His face was unreadable, distant, and entirely too tired. He was barely standing.

Koto maintained the look for a few seconds, then turned back to the injured, slightly-thrashing Keizobo. “Masaki, you are to carry the priority escort to the next battlefield.”

“Affirmative, Koto.” 

Koto continued his work quietly, eventually coming to a satisfactory stopping point and pulling back, storing his medical supplies away again. As he did, he relayed orders to his injured comrade. 

“Ninja Keizobo. We found you on the battlefield. You were not a member of the Sunagakure ANBU at any point. You are to resume your normal identity effective immediately.”

It was the current official policy to minimize all losses suffered by the ANBU as thoroughly as possible. The staggeringly low number of reported deaths or injuries in their division helped to maintain morale for the common ninja. 

Keizobo let out a staggered wheeze, before nodding, reaching up to remove his white veil with a pained grin. “Thanks for picking me up, ANBU. I’m glad our best haven’t suffered any issues in this war.” Masaki knelt, removing the white veil from his hands gently. “Shame my squad didn’t make it.”

“We will avenge them, Chunin Ren.” Koto replied with a calm and steady tone. Wounds patched, he hoisted the injured ninja up and slung him across his shoulders. He glanced over to Chunin Ryoma, who was being quietly ordered by Masaki to store his things again. The young ninja’s tired mind went through the motions, and practically fell into her arms afterwards.

“...He can sleep along the way.” Koto muttered quietly, turning his attention to their next battlefield-objective. “Move gently.”

Iju sealed away everything taken from the battlefield, turning to him and giving a slight nod.

And with that, they leapt again, disappearing from one ash-covered killing field and heading for the next. 

—

Another enemy screamed as the wooden giant’s clawed hand slammed into them, smashing both against a broad oak tree with a meaty, wet impact. The claw clamped down around the enemy’s torso, immediately beginning to wind back and drag the target with it.

A flash of white passed through, severing the line with one heavy chop and leaving away again as shuriken chased. Another enemy saving the first from being reeled in and brutalized further.

“Don’t let it pin you!” 

Koto grit his teeth, kunai crossed to block the heavy blade of his own enemy. A white-masked figure with the symbol of Iwa emblazoned across his vest. Their sword twisted and swiped again, forcing him to back up and adjust his block. 

All around him, the violence rang out in the night. A screaming red glare cast over the battlefield from the wooden giant’s back-mounted launcher.

“Koto!” Masaki called out, twisting around a sturdy oak to avoid her own attacker- a rolling tendril of rock following after her with hateful intent. 

Koto shifted, blocking another rapid swipe. He lashed out with a kick, smashing the enemy away and finally making space enough to call out an order. “Dragoon! Deploy Umbrella!" 

The wooden giant shifted, whiplike cable twisting to swipe at the legs of a massive man. The man simply hopped, stance shifting to palm-strike down at the massive puppet. The umbrella was deployed as ordered regardless, sending a spiraling fan high into the air above.

Iju smashed into the attacker’s side with a furious tackle, sending both of them tumbling to the ground a short distance away. They wouldn’t be able to dodge in time.

Koto leapt back, disappearing behind a trunk just in time for waves of poisoned senbon to shower down upon the field. Everything within a hundred feet of the wooden giant was perforated with dozens of foot-long needles, some of which were still dripping with strong poisons. 

Iju and the hopping attacker were riddled with steel, and were motionless afterwards. 

Koto moved out, leaping forwards and clashing knives with the white-masked ninja, interrupting a heavy charge towards the giant. “Your opponent is me!” Koto growled, kunai igniting with clawing winds.

The white mask smashed a knee into his gut. Koto doubled over, soaring through the air and smashing into a distant trunk. The battlefield blurred and sounds grew fuzzy, but he maintained just enough presence of mind to tumble to the side and out of the way of a heavy chop that scored the bark. 

The white mask stepped forwards to swing, but was forced to abort his attack, sword flashing to side to send away a hail of steel fragments. 

Koto threw his kunai, layered with furious winds. The white mask was forced to jump.

Another salvo of random metal fragments followed. 

Time slowed as Koto saw the hissing explosive tag attached to last shot. He threw himself back. White mask moved his sword to block again-

The explosion engulfed him, and Koto was showered in a spray of messy gore. He flipped around, vision swimming, trying to steady himself again.

A wave of churning earth covered the field, engulfing the wooden giant’s legs and sending it tumbling to the ground. Koto’s hand flashed, sending his weapons flying towards a heavy ninja at the edge of their battlefield, his hands clamped on the ground. 

The heavy ninja lifted his hands, forced to abort his jutsu, and jumped away to dodge-

Falling right into the path of Masaki’s blade of wind. The bifurcated halves of the Iwa ninja tumbled to the ground messily. 

Koto jumped forwards, towards the wooden giant in the middle of the field of churned earth and arms raised defensively. Masaki joined him a moment later, breathing heavily and blood trailing down her forehead. 

The wooden giant was on its back, half-buried in the earth. He crouched next to it, tapping it lightly on the side while keeping his jumbled awareness on their surroundings. 

The pattern of taps was returned a moment later, the wooden giant’s arm clawing in an attempt to pull itself out of the ground. The limb shook violently, then snapped out of place with a loud ringing of steel and dull thud of wood. The torso slumped back to the ground heavily, and remained motionless for a few moments.

“...Clear.” Masaki said.”

They waited for Iju to repeat for several long seconds. No sound came. Koto looked around the churned earth, but could not see any body. He closed his eyes. “Clear.” He said with a low and heavy voice.

The heavy mask of the toppled puppet slid open. Chunin Ryoma crawled out, straw hat now crumpled, covered in bruises, drying blood, and reeking of sweat. He pulled out, falling out the side of the giant puppet and landing heavily on the ground. 

He stayed there for a few moments, before pushing up and turning to stare blankly at his fallen puppet. 

“...Are you harmed, Chunin Ryoma?” Koto asked bluntly.

“...I won, right?” He asked faintly, distantly. Koto pulled back, staring down at the young ninja with silent observation. 

The young ninja pushed up from his kneeling position, unsteadily standing up to his feet. “I won. I’m alive and they’re dead, so that means I won. That’s what you said.”

Koto turned his gaze from the back of the young puppeteer’s head. “...That’s right.”

“I won. I’m alive so I won…” Ryoma continued to repeat, voice drained.

Masaki stepped forwards, crouching before the young ninja. He turned to her with a motion as ponderous as his now-fallen wooden giant. She reached into her vest and withdrew Keizobo’s white veil, tying it up around the lower face of the young puppeteer. “You’ll need this.” She said softly. 

She glanced up at him. Koto considered it for a moment, then gave a brief nod. The circumstances were acceptable.

The veil and mask made it significantly harder to read the young ninja’s expression. That was good. All that could be seen was his slumped shoulders and shaking limbs. Koto reached into his pocket and offered the young ninja another chakra-pill, judging that he’d need the energy more than Koto would.

“Retrive everything from the field. We return for repairs and unit replenishment, then deploy again.”

Motion was the key. They just had to keep moving.