Yuto lifted his head again, eyes on Konoha's main gate shrouded in heavy fog.
"Didn't expect Zabuza's bunch to ram straight through the front door. Arrogant… and I like it."
"How are Zabuza and the others doing?"
He glanced at Ranmaru, curious.
"Yuto-sama, even though there are only three of them, there's no real danger. Because they're few, Konoha's shinobi are holding back a bit."
"And our village's troops have arrived and are steadily joining the fight."
Ranmaru's wide eyes glowed faint red as he reported.
"Oh? Who's leading the Mist unit?"
Yuto sounded amused. He'd set the broad plan, but left the details to Mei.
"It's Ao-senpai." Ranmaru blinked and let out a tiny giggle.
So it's him.
Yuto nodded—no surprise there. Mei choosing Ao for this was a perfect fit.
Sitting atop Hokage Rock, he had a near-total grasp of the whole battlefield.
The clash had turned white-hot. Facing two villages at once, relying only on the Hokage's faction and the civilian line wasn't enough to hold the fronts.
From the start, this battle favored Sand and Mist; it was happening inside Konoha's walls.
The longer it dragged on, the more damage to Konoha—and the worse for Konoha's side.
By now, Danzo and the clan heads were surely preparing to step in.
If they didn't, no matter how patient Hiruzen was, payback would come later.
"This still isn't enough. Time to throw on more fuel."
Yuto smiled down at the village.
Just as he was about to move, Ranmaru's face tightened.
"Yuto-sama, I feel danger coming…"
He paused, then added quickly,
"They're headed this way!"
They?
Interest sparked on Yuto's face. A moment's thought told him exactly who Ranmaru meant.
Before long,
a faint chiming—like small bells—floated from behind.
Two men in straw hats and black cloaks patterned with red clouds walked into view.
Itachi. Kisame.
Yuto stayed seated atop Hashirama's stone likeness, legs dangling, idly swinging as he looked over Konoha.
He acted as if he hadn't noticed the newcomers at all.
Ranmaru, on the other hand, tensed, small hands clenching. A shark-faced brute and a deadpan mask—scary enough to a kid.
They stopped some distance away and lifted their hats.
Itachi's eyes turned to the village wreathed in fire and smoke. His face remained calm, but a thin, barely-there sorrow flickered in his gaze—perhaps for himself, perhaps for Konoha and its run of misfortune.
Beside him, Kisame's glance slid to Ranmaru—so the little brat who tossed the note on the ground, huh.
He only spared a look before drawing his eyes back, not even bothering to glance Yuto's way.
"You shouldn't be sitting on Hashirama's head."
"In this world, no one has that right."
Itachi drew his gaze to Yuto, voice cool.
Ranmaru's cheeks puffed with anger at once; he glared, eyes wide as saucers—one more slight against Yuto-sama and he'd swing.
"Kid, you open your eyes that wide at me and I'll pluck them out."
Kisame's chuckle slithered across the rock.
Yuto felt nothing at Itachi's words—if anything, he found Itachi's logic quaint.
Under Itachi's stare, Yuto set one foot on Hashirama's brow and said, bored,
"Just because you don't have the right doesn't mean no one does."
Confident, this one.
Itachi's eyes narrowed a fraction. "You're likely in charge of the Mist forces. I want you to halt their attack."
Surprise flicked across Yuto's face for the first time as he turned to look at Itachi.
That he was Mist? Not worth surprise. That he had command over the entire Mist force? That guess was… interesting.
Think on it, though—standing here instead of brawling with Konoha was suspicious enough.
When Yuto didn't answer, Itachi's expression didn't change. "Then we'll take you in."
Ranmaru's cheeks flushed hot—furious.
Insult Yuto-sama, and that meant a fight.
He whipped out a scroll, slapped it open—Bakutō: Shibuki (Explosive Blade: Blastsword) flashed into the air.
Thud!
Ranmaru's body swelled at a speed visible to the eye, transforming before the blade even hit the ground.
He seized Shibuki, stamped once, and blurred from sight.
That burst of killing intent drew a rare hint of surprise from both Itachi and Kisame.
They knew the kid was a shinobi, but that kind of drastic bodily change—that was unexpected.
In a blink, Ranmaru was in Itachi's face, Shibuki arcing down—
—but his wrist froze mid-swing. He muttered, "That one's a fake. Left side."
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