The Cloud envoy squad rolled toward the Hyuga compound with ANBU escorts, morning fog thick as spilled oatmeal, dew crunchin' under boots like steppin' on frozen Corn Flakes.
Makoto Uchiha posted up way the hell back, arms crossed, smirkin' like he'd just queued the best drama on Netflix. His script. His chaos.
Lead Cloud ninja? Skin dark as polished obsidian, eyes sharp enough to slice bread. Straight-up "little black-ops troll" energy.
Hyuga's vermilion gates were slammed tighter than a bank vault, copper rings rust-flecked and screaming fuck off in the mist.
"OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!"
Cloud kunoichi in burlap—let's call her Burlap Bae—her voice cracked like a whip on ice, birds scatterin' like she'd fired a shotgun. She was here to start shit and chew bubblegum. Guess which one she was out of.
Hyuga gate? Didn't budge. Rooted like it grew there.
Hokage Tower: Hiruzen Sarutobi scopin' the scene through his crystal ball, brows knotting harder than cheap earbuds.
He sucked his pipe till the bowl glowed cherry-red, then clank—slammed it into the ashtray, sparks dyin' like his patience.
ANBU popped outta the shadows like a glitchy NPC.
"Get Danzo and the advisors," Hiruzen growled, voice heavy as wet cement.
Back at the gate:
Burlap Bae eye-flicked her squad. Dude's fist lit up with lightning chakra—ready to demo the door.
"Hold up!"
White-haired ANBU slid in, hand on hilt, tryna play peacemaker: "Hyuga's chill, they wouldn't—"
Burlap cut him off like a chainsaw: "Wouldn't? Our guy's gone on your turf. That blood's on Konoha's hands!"
She stepped forward—long leg cuttin' fog like a katana—Cloud headband flashin' cold in the sunrise.
"You Third's lapdog? He coverin' for killers now?"
White-hair shut his trap, signaled his buddy. ANBU #2 zoomed back to the Tower.
Then—creeeak—Hyuga gate cracked open. Main branch Grand Elder blocked the gap, knuckles white as cocaine.
He straightened his hunchback like it owed him money, voice grindin' out like gravel: "Who the hell said you could camp our doorstep? Hyuga turf ain't a Cloud Airbnb. You tryna start a war?"
Burlap snorted: "War? Our guy vanished inside. You lecture me on provocation?"
"No proof, no slander!" Elder barked, but his sleeves? Shakin' like a leaf in a hurricane.
He hadn't even picked the fall guy yet. These bastards showed up fast.
Clan head Hiashi Hyuga lurked half a step back—Byakugan veins poppin', face colder than a walk-in freezer. Silent as a grave.
"No proof?" Burlap's voice hit frostbite levels. "Our sensors don't lie. He's in there. Or did you off him?"
She leaned in—damn near kissin' the gate: "Hyuga declarin' war on Cloud? For Konoha?"
Airflash froze. Dew drippin' like a countdown.
White-hair ANBU's brain flashed to Makoto roastin' Danzo in front of the Tower. Kid's a prophet.
Tower: Hiruzen watched the Elder's fake-bravado crumble. Face went full storm cloud.
Danzo's quiet. Uchiha's quiet. Hyuga picks now to implode?
He hated clan-first assholes more than Mondays.
"Let Cloud cool off at the Tower," he told fresh ANBU. "We'll find their guy. Tell 'em not to torch the truce."
ANBU vanished. Zoom.
Gate standoff: Hyuga elders sweatin' bullets. Even the stoic ones looked like they'd seen taxes.
This wasn't internal anymore. This was village-level dynamite.
Fresh ANBU rolled up: "Hokage wants you at the Tower. Third's personally on the case. Don't nuke the peace."
Burlap smirked at the Elder, dropped: "Better be."
She spun—Cloud squad in tow—headin' to the Tower.
Dead or alive, pin the corpse on Hyuga. We came to kidnap anyway. Dig too deep? Bad for us.
Fog lifted. Sun hit the Hyuga sign—letters bleached bone-white, cold as a morgue.
Grand Elder's legs went Jell-O. Back soaked—shirt clingin' like guilt.
Other elders? Scattered like roaches when the light flips on.
One side's screamin'. Everybody else? Ghostin'.