The New Year holiday ended.
Natsuki returned to work feeling like a man emerging from a fever dream. The entire break had been spent exploring new territory with Kushina and Nonou — creative, exhausting, and thoroughly disorienting. Sitting behind the Hokage's desk felt like a return to sanity.
Mikoto was already there.
She'd chosen a black kimono today, her dark hair pinned up in a style that added an intellectual edge to her usual warmth. More refined, more composed — the image of domestic grace elevated into something almost regal.
"Happy New Year, Natsuki."
"Happy New Year."
He stepped forward and squeezed her ass — twice, casually, like a greeting.
"The Clan Head asked me to deliver this." She produced a summoning scroll.
"Thank you."
He unsealed it and scanned the contents. The haul was substantial — medicinal herbs, forging materials, the usual diplomatic generosity. But one item made him pause.
A Fire Release chakra crystal.
The value was extraordinary. Beyond the Sharingan, the Uchiha Clan's mastery of Fire Release was their defining trait. That they could produce a Fire Release crystal was logical — that they'd part with one meant this was likely their only specimen.
"What else did your Clan Head say?"
"That he hopes you haven't forgotten your agreement."
The agreement. Uchiha Shisui.
Natsuki smiled.
Marry off the bride and lose the dowry on top of it.
He glanced at Mikoto, and an idea surfaced. He reached into a storage scroll and withdrew a qipao — dark silk, form-fitting, and very nearly translucent.
"Your New Year's gift."
He smiled. "Put it on."
Mikoto looked at it. Color flooded her face.
The garment was beautiful. It was also see-through.
She nodded.
Natsuki raised an eyebrow. Traditional women had their advantages.
She was wearing only the kimono. Beneath it — nothing.
The kimono fell away. For a brief, unguarded moment, she stood bare in the morning light. Then the qipao slid on, the fabric clinging to every line and curve like a second skin.
He studied her carefully.
The qipao did exactly what he'd intended. Her waist, the flare of her hips, the full roundness beneath — all of it sculpted by the tight silk. And through the translucent fabric, her pale skin glowed like moonlight behind gauze.
The transformation was striking. The gentle, nurturing Mikoto had been replaced by something entirely different — ripe, vivid, impossible to look away from.
"I'll... go make tea."
She turned toward the coffee table, unable to sustain eye contact.
With her back to him, she exhaled. But she had no idea what the qipao looked like from behind — or what the act of kneeling to prepare tea did to the view.
Natsuki's self-control, tempered by an entire holiday of excess, held.
Barely.
He crossed to the Hokage's desk and picked up the morning's documents.
No major domestic developments. Everything centered on the Cloud-Mist-Sand triangle, which had settled into a grinding stalemate. The Cloud held the advantage but couldn't finish the job — killing the Third Mizukage required getting past his personal guard, and the man was too experienced to expose himself.
Natsuki rubbed his chin.
He'd have to intervene covertly. The Third Mizukage's death was a prerequisite for everything that followed. Without it, Mei couldn't claim the seat, the Mist couldn't be pushed to the brink, and his leverage evaporated.
The method was straightforward: infiltrate the Cloud, compromise an Anbu operative via Mangekyō, and feed the Third Raikage actionable intelligence on the Mizukage's movements. Between Complete Mimicry and the Sharingan, insertion was trivial.
"Natsuki, your tea."
Mikoto bent forward to offer the cup. The qipao gaped with the motion — a slow, devastating reveal of pale skin straining against silk that wasn't designed to contain it.
"Very nice."
He took a sip.
Mikoto remained standing, watching him. She understood perfectly well that she wasn't leaving this office today.
Natsuki didn't intend to let her. Working while appreciating the view was a luxury he'd earned.
He returned to the documents. The fourth report caught his eye — it concerned the Konoha Hydroelectric Company. Mikoto's involvement, originally. The enterprise had expanded across the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire, generating revenue at a pace that made the Daimyō's funding almost unnecessary.
What to do with that much money was a problem for another day. Eventually, the Land of Fire's governance would shift — Natsuki had no intention of answering to a Daimyō indefinitely. But that transition required groundwork.
He finished the stack, stood, and looked at Mikoto one final time.
"I'm heading out. Change back and return to your office."
Her relief was visible. The qipao had tested her composure to its absolute limit.
Land of Water. A Mist stronghold.
Terumī Mei was studying a tactical map when the Air Door opened.
"Natsuki-sensei."
"Kidō instruction. Let's continue."
She nodded, expression sharpening. Kidō had become the foundation of her battlefield reputation — instantaneous casting gave her an edge most shinobi simply couldn't answer. More than half her current standing within the Mist owed directly to the techniques Natsuki had taught her.
She was already regarded as the Mist's greatest prodigy and held a seat among the Seven Swordsmen. After this war, a position in the village's senior leadership was within reach. Once she came of age, the Mizukage seat itself became viable.
What she didn't know was that Natsuki intended to put her in that seat within two years — making her the youngest Kage in history.
An underage Kage. The absurdity wasn't lost on him.
But it required the Espada's full support. Three members weren't enough.
"That's all for today."
He opened an Air Door and headed for the Cloud's operational zone.
Observation Haki activated. The Anbu contingent was easy to locate — they always deployed alongside their Kage.
He noted Dodai's absence from the base camp, assumed Dodai's appearance via Complete Mimicry, and walked into the Cloud's camp without challenge.
Minutes later, he stood inside the Anbu commander's tent.
Their eyes met.
Mangekyō Sharingan.
The commander went blank. When awareness returned, he belonged to Natsuki.
The rest was patience. Wait for the Third Mizukage to expose himself, then feed the coordinates through the compromised Anbu chief to the Third Raikage.
Natsuki moved on to the Land of Water's capital, briefing the Snake Princesses and the Ryūchi Cave serpents on tracking the Mizukage's movements.
Before returning to Konoha, a thought redirected him to Amegakure.
"Natsuki-sensei."
Konan rose to greet him.
"Happy New Year, Konan." He ruffled her hair.
She smiled.
"Did Jiraiya come through?"
"He recognized the Rinnegan. He wants to be Nagato's teacher, but Nagato declined. He's still trying to persuade him."
"Expected." Natsuki chuckled. "Should Nagato agree?"
"If you approve, he will."
"It's Nagato's choice. I won't interfere."
"Mm."
"Any incidents recently?" His mind went to Madara and Black Zetsu.
"Nothing."
As he'd suspected — they'd temporarily abandoned operations against Yahiko and Konan. Their focus had likely shifted to Uchiha Obito.
But Obito was in Konoha, which made him difficult to reach. Madara would probably wait for the next war to create an opening.
Natsuki wasn't content to wait passively. Madara and Black Zetsu would keep scheming as long as they existed. The key to locating them was White Zetsu — the one he'd given Orochimaru could theoretically provide coordinates for the entire network.
But rushing in now was reckless. Madara could summon the Gedo Statue — the Ten-Tails' husk. Black Zetsu's abilities were bizarre enough to sneak-attack even a Ten-Tails jinchūriki, as the original timeline had demonstrated.
Natsuki's current power hadn't reached that threshold. He'd wait until his templates were further unlocked — the Aizen template's Hōgyoku in particular. And if Orochimaru succeeded in cloning White Zetsu, the clones could be used to infiltrate the real Zetsu network from within.
"Contact me immediately if anything changes."
He stopped at the Kazekage's office.
"Pakura — increase pressure on the Mist."
She nodded.
Two months passed.
The opportunity materialized.
Under relentless pressure from both the Cloud and the Sand — Pakura had deployed an additional two thousand shinobi to the Land of Water, forcing the Mizukage to divert fifteen hundred troops to support Ao's southern front — the Third Mizukage decided to take the field personally.
His target: a Cloud supply point.
The logic was sound. Yagura and the other commanders were all committed to active engagements. The Mizukage was the only senior combatant available. His personal intervention could relieve pressure. He was powerful enough to strike a supply point and withdraw cleanly — provided he wasn't ambushed.
Hidden Cloud base camp.
"Lord Raikage."
The Anbu commander stepped forward. "We've obtained intelligence of exceptional sensitivity."
"What is it?"
Every Cloud jōnin in the tent turned.
"The Third Mizukage intends to personally raid one of our supply points tonight." He pointed at the sand table. "This location."
"Can this be verified?" Dodai asked immediately.
"Our Anbu paid a significant price for this. The source is confirmed."
"Lord Raikage — this is the opening we've been waiting for." Dodai's voice dropped with urgency. "If we can kill the Mizukage, this war is half won."
"Concentrate all forces." The Third Raikage's voice was thunder. "Full ambush."
Night.
Screams erupted at the Cloud supply point — brief, quickly silenced.
"Burn it," the Third Mizukage ordered.
"LORD MIZUKAGE!"
A sensor's voice cracked with panic. "One thousand Cloud shinobi — surrounding us on all sides!"
The Mizukage's composure shattered.
He'd brought one hundred shinobi. A hundred against a thousand was a death sentence.
And if this was a prepared ambush, that meant the Cloud had known in advance. But he hadn't told anyone about this operation—
Two pillars of lightning struck the ground in front of him.
The Third Raikage and A — the future Fourth Raikage — materialized simultaneously, wreathed in crackling chakra, radiating killing intent like heat from a furnace.
The Third Mizukage's heart sank.
How?
The question had no answer and no time.
With both Raikage present, plus a thousand shinobi, survival was... unlikely.
The chain reactions — if he fell here — despair flooded through him.
"MIZUKAGE!" The Third Raikage's laugh was savage. "This is your grave!"
"Protect Lord Mizukage — FORCE A RETREAT!"
Hōzuki Gengetsu — Swordsman and Anbu commander — made the call instantly. His presence on this raid had been standard protocol. His failure to detect the trap was his responsibility.
He made the only correct decision: they could all die, but the Mizukage could not.
"You think we'll let you run?"
Dodai and the remaining Cloud jōnin arrived. A thousand shinobi sealed every exit.
"We fight through!"
The Third Mizukage drew a breath that might have been his last calm one. For the Mist's sake, they couldn't be wiped out here.
The breakout began.
The Mist's natural advantage was Water Release — they could blast open escape corridors through sheer elemental force. But they were fighting the Cloud, and the Cloud's specialty was Lightning Release.
Water conducts electricity.
Every water technique the Mist deployed became a conduit for the Cloud's lightning. The matchup was catastrophic.
In the chaos, Natsuki moved.
His identity: a Cloud Anbu operative, indistinguishable from the dozens of others swarming the battlefield.
He scanned for targets.
The Mizukage had brought too few shinobi — the pool of recruitable candidates was thin. But two names stood out.
Hōzuki Gengetsu — currently losing his fight against A.
Momochi Zabuza — young, talented, outclassed by a Cloud jōnin but refusing to break.
Natsuki went for Zabuza first.
Gengetsu could wait. The Blood Curse only needed a heartbeat of life remaining to work, and A wasn't going to kill him — capture was the Cloud's preference for a Swordsman.
Earth Release: Subterranean Voyage.
Natsuki sank into the ground, tracked Zabuza via Observation Haki, and surfaced directly beneath his position.
He'd hollowed out a cavity below and placed an Air Door at its base.
The moment Zabuza locked blades with the Cloud jōnin, Natsuki burst upward.
His blade went through Zabuza's heart from behind.
Simultaneously, his left palm pressed flat against Zabuza's back. Blood surged from his hand and into the body.
Zabuza was launched backward by the impact, hit the ground, and went limp.
The Cloud jōnin glanced at the Anbu uniform, asked no questions, and moved to his next engagement.
Natsuki walked over and kicked Zabuza's body. The impact sent him falling — directly into the underground cavity, through the Air Door, and out of existence.
Gengetsu was next.
His fight with A was reaching its conclusion. Natsuki held back, observing, until the moment arrived — Gengetsu battered to the edge of consciousness, barely breathing.
"Anbu — secure the prisoner."
A issued the command without looking and charged toward the Mizukage.
The Third Mizukage was already losing to the Third Raikage. A's arrival made it hopeless.
Natsuki knelt beside Gengetsu, gripped his arm as though restraining him, and injected blood through the contact point. The conversion was instant.
He couldn't use the Air Door here — other Anbu had converged. But the opportunity would come. Once the Mizukage fell, the Cloud would launch a general offensive against the Mist. In that chaos, losing track of one prisoner would be effortless.
He didn't wait long.
The Third Raikage found his opening.
A flash of movement — behind the Mizukage, inside his guard.
Hell Stab: One-Finger Nukite.
Lightning crackled. A single finger, compressed to a point sharper than any blade, punched clean through the Third Mizukage's torso.
Blood sprayed — and blackened instantly, charred by the voltage coursing through the wound.
The Third Mizukage fell.
The remaining Mist shinobi died where they stood. Only Gengetsu survived — unconscious, captured, carried back to the Cloud's camp by Anbu.
By Natsuki.
The cheering was immediate and absolute. Every Cloud shinobi on the field understood the magnitude of what had just happened.
"ALL UNITS — RETURN TO BASE CAMP IMMEDIATELY!" The Third Raikage's voice carried across the night. "WE LAUNCH A GENERAL OFFENSIVE AGAINST THE HIDDEN MIST VILLAGE!"
"YES, LORD RAIKAGE!"
Natsuki moved with the tide. At the base camp, Gengetsu was delivered to a temporary holding cell.
Natsuki seized the first unobserved moment and opened an Air Door inside the cell. Gengetsu vanished.
He rejoined the main force.
The Cloud's full mobilization was impossible to conceal.
Mist base camp.
Under Yagura's emergency leadership, a war council convened.
"Every Cloud shinobi is moving." Ringo Ameyuri's voice was flat, controlled. "That can only mean one thing. Something has happened to Lord Mizukage."
"We've lost all contact with him." Yagura's expression was stone.
The color drained from every jōnin in the tent.
"The immediate priority is surviving this assault." Hoshigaki Kisame's composure didn't waver. "If we can't hold, finding the Mizukage becomes irrelevant — and so does the village."
"Agreed." Yagura inhaled slowly. "If we break here, the Mist falls."
He issued assignments. The commanders dispersed to their positions.
The battle that followed matched the scale of the Leaf-Stone decisive engagement. The Mist had lost its Kage, but they held two advantages: geography — the sea was at their backs, limiting the Cloud's approach vectors — and two jinchūriki. The Three-Tails and Six-Tails hosts had both been deployed to this front in previous months as pressure mounted.
Natsuki's assessment: the Mist would lose, but not catastrophically. They'd bleed heavily, retreat in stages, and survive as a diminished but functional village.
That was exactly the outcome he wanted.
But before the battle consumed everything, he had work to do. The Espada had five members. Five more were needed.
Named shinobi were scarce at this point — most of the Mist's prominent figures were already accounted for. But the Espada's purpose wasn't to collect celebrities. It existed to support Mei's Mizukage candidacy. Senior jōnin with institutional weight would serve just as well.
With the Cloud's Anbu identity and the battlefield's confusion as cover, filling the remaining slots would be straightforward.
After securing his targets, Natsuki left a Shadow Clone embedded in the Cloud's forces — insurance against the possibility of Mei being killed in the fighting — and returned to Konoha.
He had a village to run. The Mist would sort itself out.
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