Suna had initially dug in their heels, refusing to budge on Article Five. However, Konoha remained unyielding. This was a non-negotiable point; the specific details were open for debate, but the premise had to stay.
Under the weight of circumstance, Suna eventually caved. They had no choice. They did manage one small victory: Konoha had originally demanded a fifteen-year ban on Suna accepting external missions, which was successfully bargained down to ten.
As for the reparations, that was a given. A defeated nation must have the grace to pay its dues. The exact amount of Ryo would be left to the Daimyos of the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind to hash out. Such financial squabbles were technically outside the jurisdiction of the Hidden Villages and the Hokage.
The Fire Daimyo, no doubt, would relish the chance to kick down suna when it was at it's weakest.
Of course, as the primary muscle behind the victory, at least half of whatever reparations were squeezed out of the Land of Wind would flow directly into Konoha's coffers.
The "One Country, One Village" system of the Shinobi World was a peculiar duality. While the Hokage might seem like a mere village-level official, the reality was different. Backed by Konoha's overwhelming military might, the Hokage held a status nominally equal to the Daimyo. In practice, the Hokage's word carried immense weight—especially in military matters, where the Daimyo had almost no say.
As for the actual longevity of this peace treaty? To be honest, both sides would likely play nice until the Third Ninja World War officially ended. After that, all bets were off. It would be nearly impossible for Konoha to fully monitor whether Suna was "secretly" taking odd jobs from neighboring countries.
With the terms settled, the next step was the face-to-face meeting between the leaders: the Hokage and the Kazekage. The treaty would remain a worthless scrap of paper until both kage signed it in person.
But a new problem arose: The Venue.
The Hokage going to Suna? Out of the question. First, Konoha was the victor; the Hokage shouldn't have to travel to the loser's doorstep. Second, Suna wasn't safe. Even if Hiruzen Sarutobi were brave enough to risk his neck, the rest of Konoha would never allow it.
What about the Kazekage coming to Konoha's base? Objectively, as the loser, the Kazekage should make the trip. But he wouldn't. Not in a million years. He was terrified that Konoha had a long-standing plot—or a sudden whim—to assassinate him on arrival.
Both sides claimed to want peace, but after weeks of trying to kill one another, there wasn't a shred of trust between them.
Konoha had the tragic example of the Second Hokage burned into its memory. At the time, a young Hiruzen Sarutobi had been right there by his side. Tobirama Senju had been ambushed by the Gold and Silver Brothers during a treaty ceremony with the Second Raikage at the end of the First War. Realizing they were outnumbered, the Second had acted as a decoy to let his subordinates escape, sacrificing himself.
It was in that moment of crisis that Hiruzen had been appointed the Third Hokage. With the "Fastest Shinobi in History" meeting such an end, the Third had every reason to be paranoid.
The negotiations stalled. Both sides were obsessed with the safety of their leaders. The disappearance of the Third Kazekage had been the spark that lit this world war; Suna wasn't about to let the hard-won Fourth Kazekage walk into a death trap.
Since neither kage would step foot into the other's territory, a compromise was reached. It was a simple, almost clumsy solution: the meeting would take place at the exact midpoint between Sunagakure and the Konoha camp. With both leaders equidistant from their core power bases, neither side gained a geographical advantage. It was the perfect "sweet spot."
Then came the security details.
A fifty-kilometer radius around the meeting point was declared a Forbidden Zone. On the perimeter of this zone, Konoha and Suna would each handle half of the defense. Each side was allowed to station 500 shinobi as sentries on their respective sides, but these ninjas were strictly forbidden from entering the zone. Any breach would be viewed as an act of aggression, and the talks would instantly collapse.
This defensive ring was meant for external threats, not internal ones. Both nations were terrified that a third party might find out the two Kage were in one place and try to wipe them both out in a single stroke. That would be a catastrophe for the entire continent.
As for the Forbidden Zone itself, the leader's wouldn't enter alone. Each was permitted 32 guards—the bare minimum for a Kage's protection.
The plan was solid: if a sudden conflict erupted during the talks, the 32 guards would give their lives to escort the Hokage back to the 500-man alert zone fifty kilometers away. From there, the 500 shinobi would ensure his safe return to the Konoha camp, which was currently an impregnable fortress. The Kazekage's plan was identical.
Due to his stellar performance on this front, Hagoromo became the only Chunin selected for this elite 32-man squad. Everyone else was an elite Jonin.
Of course, this selection was largely due to Hagoromo's flying summon.
The 32-man guard was split into two teams. The day before the meeting, scouts would sweep the Forbidden Zone to clear it of any stragglers. On the day of the meeting, sixteen guards would provide close-range protection for the Hokage. The other sixteen would enter the zone ahead of him to conduct a final sweep for traps or treachery.
Even during the meeting, these sixteen scouts were authorized to move freely within the zone to maintain surveillance. Suna's arrangement mirrored this exactly. It was tedious, but when the lives of the Kage were on the line, 100% security was the only acceptable metric.
And this was where Hagoromo's aerial surveillance became the ultimate trump card.