The Third Great Ninja War raged on, consuming the shinobi world in blood and uncertainty. Every village had suffered great losses, and the end of the conflict still seemed far beyond the horizon. Death tolls climbed, alliances shifted, and betrayal whispered through the wind like a cold ghost.
For Iwagakure, the Hidden Stone Village, the burden had not been as heavy as for others—at least, not yet. Most of Iwa's battles were contained to skirmishes with Konoha and Kumo. The hostilities with Sunagakure, oddly enough, had begun to cool. Still, war was war—and no side was untouched.
At the heart of Iwagakure sat Arano, the Second Tsuchikage. The title came with unmatched power and, with it, a crushing weight. Day after day, the mountain of responsibilities seemed to grow taller: war reports, casualty lists, military strategies, and civil management. If he wasn't reviewing the death toll, he was stamping approvals, handling internal affairs, or attending endless meetings—each one demanding more of his time than the last.
Today was no different. The sky over Iwa was gray with storm clouds as if the heavens themselves were mourning. Inside the Tsuchikage's office, Arano sat in silence, flipping through reports with a hardened gaze.
One report caught his eye. It was a list. Fifty-four names. Each name was followed by a single word, etched in cold ink:
"Deceased."
He said nothing. His expression was stoic, carved from stone like the mountains surrounding the village. But even someone like Arano—stern, calculating, and unshaken—felt the silent toll of these names. The duty of mourning had become routine, yet no less bitter. He never allowed himself to grow sentimental, but deep down, even he wished he didn't have to read so many names—so many fallen ninjas.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Enter," he said.
The door creaked open. A young woman stepped in, her demeanor sharp and professional, yet warm. It was Nahi, his loyal secretary and one of the few people who dared to speak casually in his presence.
"Tsuchikage, may I come in?" she asked politely, though she was already halfway inside.
"You're already in, Nahi," Arano replied, setting the paper down.
She smiled and walked over to his desk, holding a folder. "Here's your schedule for today."
"Ah, yes," he sighed, running a hand through his brown tinted hair. "Let me guess. Another funeral? I swear, I'm starting to think I'm becoming a regular guest at those."
He tried to joke, but his voice lacked humor. It was dry and weary.
Nahi pretended to laugh lightly. "Not today. You have a strategy meeting with the Iwa council. You're the one who called it, remember?"
"Of course I remember," Arano said smoothly, smiling faintly. His voice was convincing enough to make Nahi believe he actually did. In truth, the meeting had been scheduled over a month ago and postponed twice due to the chaos of war. With so many matters demanding his attention, remembering one meeting was the least of his problems.
Nahi placed a thick file onto his desk. "Everything you need is inside. I'll let you prepare. Just don't exhaust yourself, Tsuchikage. You're the most important person in this village. Take care of yourself."
He nodded. "Thanks for the concern. But I'm fine. I've endured worse."
Hours passed quickly. Paperwork blurred into numbers and signatures. By the time Arano looked up again, the sky outside had dimmed into the red hue of late afternoon.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Enter."
Nahi returned, but this time she stepped aside to allow four figures into the room. Each of them was a seasoned shinobi.
There was Onoki, Arano's most trusted advisor and a powerful veteran. Han, the quiet giant with unmatched raw power. Azora a sharp-minded kunoichi . And finally, Sori, commander of Iwa's ANBU division, whose silent movements were as deadly as his mask was blank.
Arano gestured for them to sit.
When all were settled, he began, voice firm.
"The war has stretched us thin, but this meeting must take precedence. The fate of Iwagakure—and possibly this entire war—depends on what we decide today. I want to discuss the future of this conflict... and how we're going to win it."
Onoki was the first to speak. "With the destruction of the Uzumaki Clan, Konoha's defense has weakened considerably. Both Kiri and Kumo are exploiting that vulnerability. From our latest intelligence, Konoha's situation grows more desperate by the day."
Han leaned forward. "I've just returned from the Land of Birds. I have confirmation—Sunagakure is interested in the proposal we sent."
Sori and Azora looked confused, glancing at each other before turning toward Arano.
The Tsuchikage nodded, understanding their unspoken question.
"I sent Han as an envoy to the Land of Birds to meet a senior commander from Suna. In that meeting, he delivered a letter... a proposal of peace between Iwa and Suna. In return, we encouraged them to redirect their forces against Konoha."
Azora raised an eyebrow. "And you think they'll accept?"
"I believe the odds are high," Arano said confidently. "Suna has made no significant progress against us. Their casualties are greater than ours, and morale is faltering. If this continues, they risk losing everything. Peace with us means survival—and the opportunity to strike at a weakened enemy."
Onoki folded his arms. "And what happens if Konoha still manages to survive?"
Sori answered this time, voice low. "They could survive... but barely. They'd have to spread their forces dangerously thin. Their lines would weaken. Their dead would multiply."
"Exactly," Arano said. "While they bleed, we wait. We preserve our strength. And when they've worn themselves out… we strike. A decisive blow with minimal losses on our side."
"A solid plan," Onoki admitted. "But what about Suna and Kumo? They're still our enemies."
"I've already decided our approach," Arano said. "Han, you'll lead our forces on the Suna front. Don't push forward. Just hold the border. Defend and observe. We don't want to antagonize them—yet."
Han nodded silently.
"Onoki, Sori—stay here. I need you both in the village to maintain stability and prepare our next moves."
He turned to Azora. "You'll command our eastern forces. Your objective: weaken Kumo's sabotage units. They've been targeting our infrastructure. Stop them before they prepare for full-scale invasion."
All four nodded in agreement. Orders had been given. Strategies had been made clear. The meeting had served its purpose.
Arano stood, the shadow of the mountain etched across his face.
"Now go. The future of Iwa... lies in our hands."
And with that, the council dispersed—each stepping back into the war-torn world with new purpose, leaving the Tsuchikage once again alone with his thoughts, the quiet hum of rain beginning to tap against the stone windows of his tower.