KONOHA
"Who is Jinrui Tanaka?"
The inquiry echoed through the dim torture chamber, laden with an unspeakable dread that only the most malevolent of inquisitors could conjure. It was the hundred and nineteenth instance that Kage had been confronted with that inquiry within the span of a single day. Her captors, dogged in their pursuit for knowledge, had displayed a myriad of ways to ask this of her—with cruel implements in hand and sweet promises on their tongues. Yet, the core of their inquiry remained ever-constant.
Who is Jinrui Tanaka?
To Kage, the question had begun to grow tiresome. Stale. Not that she was bored, mind you, for her tormentors were the disturbingly inventive sort, unveiling to her grotesque new forms of pain that defied the very essence of human understanding, each more varied than the last. They had introduced her to techniques that, while sparing her life, grotesquely rearranged her internal organs. Techniques that caused her to relive, in excruciating detail, the death throes of thousands fallen on long-forgotten battlefields. Techniques that deprived her mortal mind of the concepts of space, time, and perception, inducing a pure form of madness only humanity could exhibit.
With means arcane and mundane, her captors tormented her fleshy shell.
Any ordinary human would have long since succumbed to their relentless and macabre ministrations. Alas, Kage was not human. Above their paltry tricks, she observed with detached amusement as Ibiki Morino posed the question yet again.
"Who is Jinrui Tanaka?"
A hundred and twenty.
The question went unheeded.
"Do you enjoy what you do?" Kage inquired instead, her voice eerily calm despite the straitjacket bound with chakra-suppressing seals that restrained her. Without those seals, the Prime E̬͍̎͂̅̀g͉̑ͩ͊oͫ could have easily unbound her consciousness from its current vessel and formed a new one elsewhere. As it stood, she was destined to remain their prisoner until the Prime deemed it time to retrieve her, a span of a few more days, at least—Konoha had been promised a week and a week Konoha would receive.
"Do you enjoy what you do?" she asked again when the scar-faced shinobi did not respond.
"You haven't answered my question," Ibiki replied, his irritation evident. A faint smile crept across Kage's lips.
"Let's play a game, then," she proposed. "An answer for an answer. That's fair, is it not?"
"Who is Jinrui Tanaka?" Ibiki repeated, noticeably refusing her proposition. A hundred and twenty-one. Kage's smile widened. Regardless, he would have to play her game.
"A servant," she finally replied.
Ibiki's scarred visage twisted in frustration. "Whose servant?" he demanded.
Kage's smile remained, her silence a tantalizing defiance. The Konoha-nin's scowl deepened. "You are in no position to negotiate, scum. Speak."
Kage's amusement grew. "Do you enjoy what you do?" she asked again.
A tense silence fell over the room, punctuated only by the steady, ominous ticking of an unnamed shinobi carving a small, wooden block in the corner behind her. Eventually, the Senju beside Ibiki broke the stillness. "Indulge the vermin," Tobirama ordered, his gaze never leaving Kage's face, now bearing a look of mild satisfaction.
"...No," Ibiki finally spat. "No, I do not."
"Then why do you do it?" Kage inquired, her tone almost conversational.
"Whose servant is Jinrui Tanaka?" Tobirama interjected, his frown unbroken.
"My Master's," Kage responded, her eyes returning to Ibiki. "Why do you pursue with such vigour that which brings you no pleasure?"
"I do all that is necessary for Konoha's prosperity," he answered. "Everything I do here is for my village."
Kage's smile widened yet again. "Liar."
Tobirama ignored her. "Do you serve Sasuke Uchiha, or is he also a servant like yourself and Jinrui?" he pressed.
"Cheating kills the spirit of the game," Kage chided. "This has grown stale. I have no interest in indulging you further. You may continue as you have before."
Their frowns deepened as they exchanged glances. "You do not seem to understand your position here," Tobirama ventured.
"I could say the same of you," Kage retorted. "Besides, I am curious: Would you dare hold me much longer? Sasuke only granted Konoha a week of respite. Would you risk inviting his wrath by keeping me here past that? Some food for thought, no?"
When none responded to Kage's musings, her smile grew even broader.
"Why do you tarry then, oh mighty shinobi?" she mocked. "You have just a few days left; do not squander them gawking."
***
The austere room in Iwagakure's administrative building was filled with an air of tension. The walls, adorned with maps and tactical charts, bore witness to the gravity of the ongoing conflict. Ōnoki, The Third Tsuchikage, leaned over his desk, his eyes scanning the latest reports from the frontlines.
Worrying news had arrived from the east. A sinister plot unearthed: The Port of Nagoya had been seized by shinobi suspected to be from Kumogakure. Multiple weapons caches of immense quantities had been discovered on-site after the hostile occupiers were driven out of the region at a great cost of good lives.
From all appearances, it seemed Kumo had deployed an elite expeditionary force to prepare a beachhead in advance of a much larger invasion. The fact that the enemy forces were even discovered and removed at all was a miracle in and of itself.
It was quite obvious that the invasion seemed planned to coincide with Iwa's intended two-pronged offensive on Konoha and Sunagakure. A plot sinister and ingenious both, but not atypical of the modus operandi of the opportunistic Cloud.
Worrying, yet not entirely surprising.
Ōnoki's eyes narrowed, the lines of age deepening on his face. "the Fourth Raikage has always been adept at such ploys," he mused. "It would have proven disastrous had the enemy succeeded in holding the beachhead and landing even more troops before they were discovered."
"A full redeployment to the eastern front might be necessary to properly secure the east and repel any further amphibious assault, Sandaime," Akatsuchi droned from where he stood beside the Ōnoki. Kurotsuchi seemed to be in agreement, yet her face remained contorted in a faint frown.
"...The timing for this is especially unusual, grandfather," she said. "I suspect foul play; this seems more like an attempt at redirecting our attention than anything."
Ōnoki nodded, agreeing. "Either way," he replied, "we still have to make the necessary preparations should the worst occur. An ANBU team would be dispatched to investigate the situation in Kumo. In the meantime, inform Hōki to begin preparations for the immediate mobilization of our Northeastern battalion. We must be ready to secure the region in the event of a potential large-scale invasion."
Amid the conversation, another messenger arrived. An ANBU. He bowed quickly before delivering his message. "Tsuchikage-sama, urgent news from the Land of Mushroom. Konoha has launched a preemptive strike. They're attempting to dislodge our entrenched forces there."
Ōnoki's expression darkened. "Do you have a full report?"
"Yes, Lord Third!" the messenger replied as he retrieved a sealed scroll from the pouch by his waist.
***
The Land of Mushroom was a region known for its dense forests, towering trees and humid, damp air that supported a multitude of fungi species. The thick canopy provided natural cover, the air thick with the scent of petrichor and spores, and the ground, covered in a layer of moss and smaller mushrooms, felt soft and springy underfoot. All together, this gave the region an almost mystical biome that one would struggle to find anywhere else on the continent.
At the same time, it made the region an ideal location for covert operations.
In a concealed clearing in the heart of these woods, Shikaku stood before a stump serving as a makeshift table, a large map of the region spread before him.
Worryingly, for his subordinates who accompanied him to spearhead this mission, his face was contorted in a heavy frown.
Despite their initial success, the nature of the Land of Mushrooms worked soon began to work against Konoha. The terrain, while advantageous in the beginning for large-scale covert manoeuvring, also provided numerous points for the enemy to set up sophisticated traps and ambushes. The Kumo-nin, well-acclimated to the terrain, recovered much faster than Shikaku had been expecting and had begun to prove increasingly difficult to dislodge.
The only silver lining that remained was the fact Konoha fielded much more potent forces than the enemy. Lord Hashirama's presence on the battlefield alone was enough to melt even the most stubborn pockets of resistance.
Yet, the First Hokage and others of his calibre could only be at so many places at once. With the number of fronts, Konoha seemed to now have to defend at once, it was merely assured that the casualties the Leaf suffered would continue to grow regardless of their efforts to ensure otherwise.
Would they take back Mushroom? Yes.
At a cost? Yes.
But one they could somewhat afford.
***
"Brother, this is the moment we've been waiting for," Chiyo said as she reviewed the intelligence report provided by their spies to the far north. "Sasuke Uchiha kept his promise: Iwagakure appears to be diverting its attention to the east for whatever reason. It is time, I think."
Ebizō nodded, his gaze fixed on the maps for a moment before he turned to address his sister. "I still believe you should be the one to lead this mission. Assassinating a Daimyō is no easy task; I fear Baki might not be up to it."
Chiyo glanced at her brother from the corner of her eyes. "You were never this stubborn when we were younger," she drawled jokingly, before allowing a confidence to crease her lips. "Relax, Ebizō. Baki can handle it."
The wrinkled Elder sighed, clearly unwilling to continue his attempt at convincing his older sibling.
***
"From where we stand," said Jinrui to Inari, his adoptive son, "everything you can see, that the light touches, is ours."
The late afternoon sun, gilded with the warm hues of early autumn, glinted across the choppy waves. Jinrui stood tall on the balcony of his office building, his kimono of the finest silk and adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of a level of bespoke craftsmanship only obscene amounts of wealth could afford. His obi was secured with a masterfully crafted jade brooch that complimented the look.
Beside him, Inari peered ahead as if trying to gauge where the light's reach ended. The boy mimicked his father's stately stance, dressed in a smaller but equally exquisite kimono.
Down in the street below, the town was alive with the symphony of daily commerce. Vendors called out their wares, the rich scents of the sea intermingling with the enticing aroma of fresh takoyaki and sweet dango. Fishermen, returning from their morning ventures, exchanged hearty greetings, their weathered faces breaking into wide smiles.
This far from everything else, one could almost forget the great war looming on the horizon.
Inari's eyes were lidded when he replied. "What does it matter?" he asked with a voice heavily laden with pessimism. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream; you said so yourself. None of this matters."
Jinrui chuckled, his laughter a rich, rolling sound. "You are correct, son. Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. The more one suffers, the more, I believe, one has a sense for the comic. Essentially, it's all a big joke."
"Then why are you here?" the boy asks.
The blood clone shrugged. "Even I fail to grasp the Prime's intention for this world. Curiosity … Boredom perhaps? Or perhaps to discover their sense of comic; though I doubt that given how intensely they seem to handle everything. Yet, why else would a being of their stature choose to wade amongst mortal filth well-nigh blind? To experience things so transient and fleeting they are meaningless? Out of all the charades to indulge in, why this one? Perhaps…"
"Perhaps?"
"Think little of it, son. Enjoy this while it lasts, fleeting as all things mortal tend to be. The Leaf sways with intentions impure; eventually, they would take to the seas again hungering for battle, the fools. That reminds me: You have always longed for strength, have you not?"
"...Yes."
Jinrui smiled. "Very well. We might as well bloody that blade of yours while we are at it. Yours is a purpose that eclipses that of the common man. A great purpose is one deserving of an even greater soul, and nothing matures the human mind more than the tried and true act of murder. Should you survive the trial planned for you, I will have something special prepared for you. Should you die, even after all that had been invested in you, your death would be punishment enough. Understood?"
"...Yes, father," Inari nodded after a long moment, his expression unchanging.
Accepting.
"I understand."