The comfortable, profitable order Makima had established was abruptly shattered, not by internal chaos, but by the magnificent, catastrophic chaos of global conflict.
The news arrived like a thunderclap during a routine lesson on advanced Fire Release seals. An emergency message scroll, crimson with the Kage's seal, was delivered by a panting Anbu. The instructor, his face pale, read the decree aloud: The Second Great Ninja War had formally erupted. The Land of Wind, aligned with its allies, had launched a massive, coordinated attack on the Land of Fire's borders. Konoha was now on total military alert.
The decree that followed froze the blood of every child in the room: Immediate, accelerated graduation for all students entering their fifth year or higher.
The classroom, previously an echo chamber of Makima's engineered calm, dissolved into pandemonium. Clan heirs worried about their parents on the front lines, commoners panicked about village safety, and everyone was terrified of being thrust unprepared into the field.
Makima, however, did not panic. She sat perfectly still, her golden eyes reflecting the flickering fear of her peers. War is merely chaos seeking order, she mused. The ultimate environment for control. Her years of training, her hidden elemental mastery (Fire, Water, Wind), and her vast Uzumaki chakra reserves were no longer academic bragging rights; they were the tools of a goddess in a world that demanded subjugation.
The graduation ceremony was a grim, expedited affair, replacing celebration with urgency. Within hours, the freshly minted Genin were assembled in the Hokage Tower courtyard, awaiting their assignments.
The future Sannin—Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru—stood beside the Third Hokage, their presence lending a heavy, palpable sense of gravity to the proceedings. The air crackled with anticipation and fear.
The Hokage began reading the team assignments, shuffling the Genin into combat-ready trios. The students Makima had spent years subtly dominating—Torune, Hana, and countless others—were dispersed into various teams, their loyalty to her now a psychological advantage she carried onto the battlefield.
Then came the assignment that shifted the political landscape of the war.
"Team 7," the Third Hokage announced, his voice ringing with authority. "Jiraiya will take charge of the following Genin: Kushina Uzumaki, Minato Namikaze, and Makima Utatane."
The coupling was breathtakingly strategic:
Makima Utatane: The prodigious Heiress, possessing the triple elemental affinity and unparalleled control, a future political powerhouse.
Kushina Uzumaki: The volatile, high-potential Jinchūriki, requiring the most careful and powerful guidance.
Minato Namikaze: The quiet, technical prodigy, balanced and impossibly brilliant.
The team was a perfect alignment of political influence (Makima), raw military necessity (Kushina), and pure strategic genius (Minato). They were too valuable to entrust to a standard Jōnin, and thus, they were placed under Jiraiya, the most socially adept of the future Sannin and the one destined to bring them into the fold of the Hokage's direct influence.
Makima met Jiraiya's gaze. The Toad Sage grinned, a wide, challenging expression that showed he was already anticipating the trouble his brilliant but complicated students would bring. Makima offered a small, polite smile in return, recognizing the next pillar she would need to command.
The next team announcement sent a chill through the Utatane camp, but its true drama lay in the political maneuvering just moments before. Tsunade Senju, Nawaki's older sister and guardian, had used her influence to ensure her brother's placement. She had watched Jiraiya's often reckless behavior, his wandering eye, and his growing interest in Makima's intricate group dynamics, and had decided she would not allow her little brother to be "misguided" by the Toad Sage's chaotic, less-than-serious influence.
Instead, she forced a critical grouping: Nawaki would be placed with Orochimaru. Tsunade reasoned that the Serpent guy, though cold, demanded absolute technical excellence and rigor. It was a trade-off—avoiding Jiraiya's moral chaos for Orochimaru's dangerous focus.
"Team 16 will be placed under the command of Orochimaru" the Hokage continued. "His squad will include... Nawaki Senju."
The grouping was unconventional. Nawaki, still high on the delusional belief that his carry from Yakiniku Q had earned him romantic favor, was shocked. Makima's subtle subjugation of him had elevated him to a perfect state of devotion, and now he was being paired with the Sannin most focused on power and human experimentation.
As Nawaki approached the dark-haired person, Orochimaru fixed him with a cold, predatory gaze. Makima, watching from across the courtyard, gave Nawaki an encouraging, brilliant smile—a final, irresistible beacon of feminine approval.
Nawaki's internal devotion, which Makima had perfected, instantly transferred the concept of 'unconditional service' to his new sensei. Nawaki saw the assignment not as a political maneuver, but as a recognition of his strength and reliability—the very traits Makima had praised.
Orochimaru, in turn, saw Makima's perfect creation: a devoted, pliable, and genetically pristine Senju with absolute loyalty, eager to be molded into a lethal weapon. It was an opportunity he would not waste.
As the teams dispersed to meet their new sensei, Makima walked with Kushina and Minato toward Jiraiya. The war had condensed the timeline, simplifying her path. She now had the perfect weapon (Kushina), the perfect rival (Minato), and the perfect political escort (Jiraiya) all gathered into one unit. Her primary subordinates, Nawaki and Orochimaru, were now positioned in the background, fulfilling their own separate, dangerous purpose—one she could monitor and occasionally influence.
Makima looked out past the gates of Konoha toward the distant border where the war raged. The world was demanding chaos, but Makima saw only one outcome: a perfectly ordered victory under the command of the Control Devil.
"The war is frightening, Makima-chan," Kushina whispered, her hand instinctively reaching for Makima's.
Makima interlaced her fingers with Kushina's, squeezing gently. Her golden eyes were calm, utterly devoid of fear.
"Do not worry, Kushina-san," Makima replied, her voice soft and reassuring. "I am here. And chaos only happens when people refuse to be perfectly guided. We will bring them order."