A streak of light sank into him.
Taketori Den jolted awake from a dead sleep, heart pounding, a sudden, burning hunger roaring through his chest. Ambition hit him like a drug—raw, overwhelming, impossible to ignore.
He sat up fast, sha flooding in right behind it.
"Taketori Den, what the hell is wrong with you? You've been sitting on your ass for months. Resting. Waiting. Doing nothing. When the hell are you going to take this clan where it belongs?"
He stared out the window, eyes blazing.
"The Hidden Mist is ours by right. The Third Mizukage was a selfish, incompetent old bastard who spent his whole reign screwing us over. Yagura? That little snake is even worse—sneaky, ruthless, and nowhere near worthy of the hat. This village should be ours."
He forced the fire back down and went to bed.
The next morning he called the entire clan council.
Everyone showed up.
Taketori Den looked around the room.
"Listen up. I've been thinking. We've sat here long enough. The Taketori clan has a proud history stretching back centuries. We don't belong trapped in this damn valley like rats. The Mizukage seat is ours. The Hidden Mist is ours. Ti to take what's rightfully ours."
A young clan mber shot his hand up.
"About damn ti, Lord. I've been bored out of my skull. We should've moved weeks ago."
Another jumped in.
"Fuguki and Jinpachi pulled off huge plays with just two guys and their crews. We're stronger than both of them put together. Let's go."
Most of the clan were hot-blooded and ambitious by nature. The mont their leader gave the green light, the room exploded with agreent.
The older ones stayed cooler.
"Lord, we just got word the Mist crushed both the Shark Skin and Exploding Blade groups. Yagura led the attack himself. They're still dangerous. We're outnumbered badly. If we hit them head-on right now, we'll get crushed."
Taketori Den turned to the speaker.
"What's your play?"
The man kept going.
"Those two groups took heavy losses, but a lot of their people survived. The ocean is huge. Tracking soone out there is a nightmare. We should do exactly what they did—turn into a navigation group. Hit the Mist, grow our numbers, bleed them dry over ti. We've got the individual strength. When they outnumber us, we run. When the numbers are even, we fight. Eventually we'll wear Yagura down and take the village."
Taketori Den nodded.
"Navigation groups work. Fuguki and Jinpachi already proved it. Ours will be stronger. But that's not all. Any other ideas?"
An older man stepped forward.
"We should reach out to the Shark Skin and Exploding Blade groups. Both of them hate Yagura as much as we do—he frad them, hunted them, killed their people. The Uchiha clan is in the sa boat. If we bring them in, we'll have real firepower against the Mist. And… there's also Sunagakure."
The room went dead silent at that na.
Sunagakure had been the enemy for years. Plenty of Taketori blood on both sides. But that was before the clan beca enemies of the Mist itself.
"Sunagakure and the Mist are still enemies. That suicide-bomb stunt with Elder Genshi tore up the surrender deal. Rasa printed Fuguki's interview in the Weekly for a reason—he wants revenge. If we offer to help hit the Mist, Sunagakure will probably send resources. We don't have to like them. Enemy of my enemy and all that."
One man hesitated.
"But they're still Sand. Rasa's ambitious as hell. If we work with them, they might try to control us."
The old man shook his head.
"Forr enemy. Now we share the sa target. Once we take the Mist back, we can turn on them. The Land of Wind is too far away. They won't be able to stop us."
Taketori Den thought for a long mont.
"Anyone willing to travel to the Land of Wind and ask Rasa for help?"
The old man raised his hand.
Taketori Den waved him off.
"You're too old and you've got old wounds. That desert will eat you alive. No guides out there—you'd disappear in the sand."
A middle-aged man stepped forward instead.
The Taketori clan started moving.
---
Sunagakure.
Kabuto wiped down the counter in the little shop, eyes flicking over every custor who walked in. The village was locked down tighter than Konoha had ever been. Getting real intel was damn near impossible.
Danzo was breathing down his neck harder every day. And every ti he thought about Yakushi Nono, his chest tightened.
He still hadn't found anything useful. Not since the Grass Village ss ended. The only thing that looked suspicious was whatever massive project Rasa was building on the edge of the village, but he couldn't get close enough to see what it was.
Then the light in front of him went dark.
Kabuto looked up and froze.
A tall figure stood over him, staring down with calm, unreadable eyes.
Kabuto's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
"Lord… Kazekage?"
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