After Akira finished testing his puppet clone at the abandoned battlefield, he returned home under the dimming sky, the evening air thick with the scent of iron sand and old chakra. Satisfaction lingered in his chest; the puppet had exceeded his expectations. Yet, there was no time to rest. Across the land, political tides were shifting.
At that very moment, far from Akira's quiet return, a Sand Village delegation had arrived at the gates of Konoha. Their purpose was clear: to negotiate the terms of peace and reparations following the recent, brutal conflict.
The Sand delegation was small, yet formidable in authority and experience. It was led by the elder siblings Chiyo and Ebizo, both legends in their own right, flanked by seasoned diplomats and a handful of elite guards. The Kazekage had not joined them. After all, the village had been left vulnerable following the disappearance of the Third Kazekage, and a subsequent invasion by Iwagakure had dealt them a harsh blow. Sending the Kazekage out again would have been unthinkable.
Word of their arrival had reached Konoha in advance. The Third Hokage, ever the diplomat, gathered his council and walked to the main gate himself, leading a welcoming party to receive the delegation.
The meeting began with warmth and ceremony. Smiles were exchanged, hands were clasped, and voices raised in cordial tones. For an outsider, it might have seemed as though these were old allies reuniting—not villages that had clashed bitterly only weeks prior.
"You must be weary from your journey," said the Third Hokage with practiced gentleness. "We have arranged accommodations. Please, allow me to escort you."
Ebizo gave a polite bow. "We thank the Hokage for his generosity."
Chiyo, usually stern, offered a rare smile, her expression softened by decades of experience. She said nothing, but her eyes carried a sharp glint of appraisal.
As the group walked together through Konoha's bustling streets, the three elder ninja—Chiyo, Ebizo, and Hiruzen—conversed like old warhorses recognizing one another's scars. Each word carried a double meaning, every pause a calculated measure of intent.
After escorting them to their quarters, the Hokage took his leave. "We will discuss reparations and the alliance treaty tomorrow," he said. "Please rest well."
Once alone, the younger diplomat from Sand, still in his twenties and brimming with naive relief, let out a breath. "The Hokage is far more approachable than I expected. Perhaps this negotiation will be smoother than we feared."
Chiyo scoffed, folding her arms. "Do not be fooled by his smile. That man is known as a 'Ninja Hero' for a reason. He did not rise to power on goodwill alone."
Ebizo added, "And he is not the only one to worry about. There is another—Danzo. A man cloaked in shadows, with methods more venomous than a scorpion's sting."
The diplomat paled. Realization struck him like a kunai to the ribs. He had nearly walked into the negotiation unarmed, lulled by pleasantries. Thank the heavens the elders were here.
The next morning, the Sand delegation, now well-rested and mentally prepared, was led by an Anbu escort to the designated conference room.
Inside were the key figures of Konoha's leadership: the Third Hokage himself, flanked by his advisers Homura Mitokado and Koharu Utatane. Most imposing of all, however, was Danzo Shimura, seated in the corner like a coiled snake. His face was half-shrouded in bandages, and his singular visible eye gleamed with suspicion.
Danzo had not come for formality. His primary interest was in the rumors surrounding the mysterious puppeteer who had recently battled Uchiha Kawa outside Konoha. He suspected this puppeteer was tied to Akira. If he could confirm that, then the path to obtaining the Mangekyo Sharingan would be close at hand.
The negotiation began. Ebizo took the lead, laying out Sand Village's position. "Our defeat has left us fractured. The Wind Daimyo, in his anger, has slashed our military budget. We rely now on the Kazekage's gold mines to survive. Even our high-ranking shinobi are forced to take missions to support the village."
He paused, sighing. "In light of these hardships, we hope Konoha might show mercy in the matter of reparations. If we preserve our strength, we will be better positioned to honor this alliance and resist threats from Iwagakure and Kirigakure."
The Third Hokage listened calmly, hands folded before him. He was about to reply when Danzo exploded.
"Mercy? We won! We have your soldiers! We could have executed every last one of them, but we didn't. And now you want a discount? The nerve!"
Ebizo didn't flinch. "Then do it. Kill them all. That is your choice. But we will not pay what we do not have."
A moment of tense silence followed.
Danzo's glare was murderous. The Third Hokage sighed and raised a hand, still the voice of reason. "We understand the strain your village faces. We too are burdened by this war-torn era. In the interest of peace, we will reduce the reparations to a symbolic amount."
Danzo's fingers twitched in frustration, but he said nothing. Let the Hokage show leniency, he thought. Every sign of weakness only strengthened his case for replacing him.
Meanwhile, Chiyo watched the exchange carefully, her sharp mind taking note of Danzo's aggression and the Hokage's diplomacy. Ebizo, calm as ever, sealed the deal with a nod. "We accept the terms."
As the ink dried on the agreement, a fragile peace settled in the room.
But beneath the surface, shadows stirred.
Danzo leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "One more thing. We heard of a puppeteer sighted near the outskirts of Konoha not long ago. He engaged Uchiha Kawa in combat. Was he one of yours?"
Chiyo's face betrayed nothing. "We have many puppeteers. If someone acted without orders, we are unaware."
Danzo grunted, unconvinced.
The meeting ended with forced smiles and clipped farewells. The Sand delegation returned to their quarters, minds racing.
Akira, elsewhere in the village, remained oblivious to the scrutiny gathering in the shadows. Yet, even he could feel the storm rising on the horizon.
The peace between villages had been signed, but it was a peace born of necessity, not trust. And in the ninja world, such peace was always fleeting.
Seeing the Third Hokage agree to their request and reduce the amount of compensation, the three representatives from Sunagakure smiled with satisfaction. This outcome had been well within their expectations, calculated long before setting foot in Konoha—and even before the war itself began.
Sunagakure's leadership had keenly understood a fundamental truth: Konoha could not possibly stand alone against the other four great nations. No matter the cost, the Hidden Leaf would be compelled to form alliances. And the first village to make peace with Konoha would naturally become its prime candidate for alliance. That was precisely why Sunagakure had been so eager to confront Konoha on the battlefield.
Victory or defeat had never been the deciding factor; in the end, both sides would sign a treaty. The only difference lay in who paid the price. And in this case, Sunagakure had indeed paid—but it was a minor price, comfortably within their acceptable range.
After formalizing a modest compensation package, the two sides signed a truce agreement. With that, the war between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind officially came to an end. The next step—signing an alliance agreement—was more ceremonial than substantive.
These pacts, after all, had been drafted and signed countless times before. They involved mutual pledges not to attack each other and to provide limited support when convenient. Yet everyone at the table knew the truth: these agreements held little weight once the war was over. Should the tides of conflict shift again, betrayal was always an option. Allies could become enemies with nothing more than a tear of parchment.
So while the alliance was signed in a scene of apparent harmony, no one present believed in its longevity. The idea that either side would risk their own safety to aid the other was laughable. When trouble came, excuses would be made, and if an ally stumbled, the others might even deliver the final blow.
With the truce in place, the Sunagakure envoys prepared to depart, their faces calm but inwardly triumphant. Yet before they could leave, the Third Hokage's voice called out once more, calm but firm:
"Please wait a moment, Advisors Chiyo and Ebizo of Sunagakure."
The trio halted mid-step and turned back, surprise flashing briefly in their eyes.
"Is there something else, Lord Hokage?" Ebizo asked, raising a curious brow.
"Yes, there are a few matters I wish to consult with the esteemed advisors," said Hiruzen, folding his hands behind his back.
Ebizo turned to the third representative. "Kimura, go ahead and prepare our things. We'll join you shortly."
"Understood, Advisor," Kimura replied, bowing respectfully before exiting the meeting chamber.
Once the door closed, Chiyo and Ebizo turned to face the Hokage, who wasted no time.
"You both must have heard of a shinobi named Uchiha Kawa?"
Chiyo nodded. "The prodigy who appeared out of nowhere and subdued Shukaku during the battle—yes, we know of him."
Hiruzen sighed quietly. "He has defected from Konoha. We've been searching for him since his disappearance, but his trail has gone cold."
Danzo stepped forward, his voice sharp. "Until recently. We received a report that Uchiha Kawa was seen near Konoha, engaged in combat with an unidentified individual. No witnesses saw the battle itself, but the aftermath revealed signs that point to one unmistakable fact: the person he fought was a puppeteer."
He let the words hang heavy in the air.
"As you both know, puppeteers are unique to Sunagakure," Danzo continued. "So we ask: do you know who this puppeteer might be?"
Ebizo's expression remained unreadable, but a flicker of surprise danced in his eyes. The implication was significant—someone from their village had been strong enough to engage Uchiha Kawa? That demanded Kage-level skill.
Sunagakure had many puppeteers, but only a few approached that level of power. He and Chiyo exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting—confusion, realization, then something deeper: hesitation.
Hiruzen and Danzo were watching intently, noting every subtle change in their demeanor.
Danzo's patience snapped. "Do you know who it was? Is this Sunagakure's secret weapon, or part of some hidden scheme? You would be wise to speak clearly—lest your silence jeopardize this fragile alliance."
The Third Hokage said nothing, neither endorsing nor rejecting Danzo's threat. His silence was consent enough.
Ebizo turned to Chiyo, his usually sharp eyes filled with something softer: uncertainty, sorrow, perhaps regret.
Chiyo closed her eyes briefly, then spoke, her voice quieter now. "If this individual was a puppeteer, then you must have recovered remains from the battle—fragments of the puppet, perhaps? May we see them?"
Hiruzen gave a slight nod. Moments later, an Anbu entered the room with a small chest. Inside were scattered remains: twisted puppet parts and dark grains of iron sand—Akira had not had time to reclaim them.
Chiyo stepped forward, eyes scanning the puppet remnants. The craftsmanship was familiar, painfully so. Then she saw the iron sand, and her breath caught.
A storm of memories surged—of training sessions, of heated arguments, of a brilliant boy whose talents had eclipsed even his elders.
Chiyo's expression cracked with emotion. The name escaped her lips like a whisper carried on wind.
"This puppet... the construction is unique to my grandson. It's Sasori's work."
The room froze. Even Danzo looked startled.
Sasori of the Red Sand.
A name like thunder—Sunagakure's greatest puppeteer, a genius without peer. Rumors of his power had reached even the farthest corners of the shinobi world. And now, he was active again?
Danzo stepped forward, voice sharp. "Where is he now? Is he alive? And how did he know where to find Uchiha Kawa?"
But Chiyo only shook her head, the light in her eyes dimmed by regret. "I don't know. Sasori vanished years ago, before the war began. I haven't seen him in over five years. Whether he's alive or dead, I cannot say. This is the first sign I've had that he's still out there."
Her sorrow felt genuine. And though they remained cautious, both Hiruzen and Danzo believed her.
Sasori's trail was as cold as Uchiha Kawa's. The chance of finding either of them in the vast world was as slim as ever.
Danzo's fists clenched in frustration. The shadow of Uchiha Kawa continued to haunt Konoha, and now it seemed to dance just out of reach, entwined with another phantom: Sasori of the Red Sand.
The Third Hokage closed his eyes, the weight of uncertainty heavier than ever.
Outside, the sun had dipped lower behind the Hokage Rock, casting long shadows through the village. Peace had returned—for now. But in the hearts of Konoha's leaders, the storm had only just begun.