After What Happened
The day had dawned gray and silent, as if nature itself was mourning the recent events. The trees surrounding the village stood still, and the birdsong had vanished, leaving a disquieting void in the air. Inside one of the main halls of the Chinoike clan's residence, a meeting was about to begin.
Patriarch Arisuke had finally decided to summon me to discuss the steps to be taken. The gravity of the meeting was evident, and although I tried to calm my mind, I couldn't shake a pang of concern as I made my way to the main hall. Lord Isamu still lay unconscious, recovering from the wounds he sustained in battle, which meant he would not be present at this critical meeting. His absence felt like an undeniable void.
Upon entering the hall, the atmosphere was solemn. The walls were adorned with banners bearing the Chinoike clan's emblem—a reminder of their history and the strength they had lost in recent days. At the center of the room, Patriarch Arisuke sat on a sturdy dark wooden chair, which appeared as imposing as the man who occupied it. His posture was upright and firm, with his fingers interlocked on the table before him, as though carefully deliberating every word he was about to speak. His gaze was fixed on me, penetrating and filled with expectation and determination.
"Jomei," he began, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room. His voice was deep and authoritative, like an echo reverberating off the walls. "In summary, you will organize this supposed alliance, but you have no idea what awaits us, the Chinoike clan."
His words were direct, almost accusatory, but I understood his position. The responsibility he bore as the leader of his people was immense, and decisions of this magnitude couldn't be taken lightly. I took a moment to process his words before responding.
"That's correct," I said calmly, maintaining eye contact with the patriarch. "Honestly, the only thing we can offer is a space within our clan where you can live, but even then, we'll inevitably find ourselves embroiled in a battle against the Senju clan."
The words I spoke seemed to ignite something in Arisuke's eyes—a mixture of frustration and disbelief that he didn't bother to conceal.
"You say this after a peace agreement has been signed between the two clans," he responded, his tone slightly sharper.
The weight of his remark lingered in the air, but I knew I had to be honest with him. Those peace agreements, while well-intentioned, were meaningless if one party decided to ignore them.
"Those documents are worthless if a clan is insistent on annihilating the other," I replied firmly, without averting my gaze.
For a moment, the patriarch remained silent. His eyes were fixed on the table before him, as though contemplating my words. Finally, he raised his gaze again.
"I understand that part," he said slowly, his voice quieter, almost a whisper. "But what guarantees us that the Chinoike clan won't be exterminated in the Land of Fire?"
It was a valid question, one that required a thoughtful response. I took a deep breath before replying.
"What guarantees that your clan won't be exterminated by the clans in the Land of Lightning or even by external clans?" I countered. "Survival is not guaranteed anywhere, Patriarch. But joining forces with the Uchiha clan will give you a chance you wouldn't have standing alone against multiple enemies."
As my words still hung in the air, Arisuke slowly rose from his chair. His height and the gravity of his presence made him appear even more imposing, like a figure carved from stone. Without uttering a word, he walked toward a cabinet at the back of the room. From a carefully sealed drawer, he retrieved a scroll. He held it in his hands for a moment, as if deliberating whether or not to show it to me. Finally, he turned toward me and threw it with precision.
"At first, I thought that what you had mentioned about a mission was related to forming this alliance," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he observed me attentively. "But after carefully reviewing the battlefield, we found this."
I caught the scroll and examined it carefully. It was visibly damaged, with burnt edges and ash marks covering part of its contents. Even so, as I read the fragments that remained intact, a chill ran down my spine. It was exactly like the one that had been delivered to the Uchiha clan before my departure.
Although some sections of the scroll had been consumed by fire, a crucial part remained legible: the signature at the end. Although only half of it was visible, it was enough to identify the author of the request. It was the son of the former daimyo of the Land of Lightning. His mother, a shrewd figure, had likely influenced him in making this decision.
"This is serious, Patriarch," I finally said, lifting my gaze from the scroll. "This document proves that our situation is not a simple clan conflict. There are external forces pulling the strings, and the daimyo's son seems to be behind it all."
The words seemed to weigh on Arisuke's shoulders, who lowered his gaze, his expression graver than ever.
"It seems we can't stay in this land for much longer," he said after a long silence. "Although I'd like to fight to the end, I'm certain our clan would eventually be exterminated. That's why I want to propose that our clans unite under one condition: that a marriage be arranged, which would guarantee our coexistence."
His words took me by surprise. Although I knew that marital alliances were a common strategy for strengthening ties between clans, this proposal was far more delicate than it appeared.
"I'm sorry, Patriarch," I said sincerely, "but for now, the only thing I can guarantee is that you will be welcomed into our clan as refugees. As for the marriage, I would have to consult it with our patriarch. It's too great a decision for me to make alone."
The patriarch let out a long sigh, which seemed to carry the weight of his concerns. He sat down again, his posture more relaxed, but his expression still serious.
"Did your clan accept this mission?" he asked, pointing to the scroll I still held.
I knew this answer was crucial, not only to clarify our intentions but also to earn Arisuke's trust.
"No," I replied honestly. "Before leaving the clan, the patriarch's brother gave me this scroll. They still hadn't accepted the mission."
At that moment, I saw something change in Arisuke's expression. His eyes, which had previously been filled with distrust, now showed an unexpected gratitude. It was as if Izuna, the brother of my leader, had become a savior in his eyes. Had he not made that decision, the Chinoike clan could have been dragged into an unwinnable war against the Uchiha clan.
"Fine," he finally said, letting out another sigh. "I've made my decision. We will go to the Land of Fire and form an alliance with the Uchiha clan. I will inform everyone to prepare their essential belongings for the journey."
I bowed slightly in a gesture of respect, but before I could leave the room, I raised a hand to stop him.
"Wait a moment," I said firmly. "Before departing, we must do something else."
The meeting room remained immersed in a dense silence after Jomei's last declaration. His words had posed a mystery that Arisuke could not ignore. Upon leaving the room, the patriarch directed his gaze toward the outskirts of the village, where his people worked tirelessly to pack the few belongings they could take with them. Each step he took resonated lightly in the empty halls, reflecting the feeling of loss and imminent change.
Arisuke, standing on the balcony of his residence, observed the flickering flames of the campfires that illuminated the inhabitants of the Chinoike clan. These were images of an exhausted community, physically and emotionally drained after the recent battles. The shadows of the warriors projected onto the walls as they reviewed their weapons and strategies; the elders organized the supplies, and the children stayed close to their families, unable to fully comprehend the magnitude of what was happening.
The patriarch knew he had to speak to his people, give them direction and hope in such a somber moment. Within a few hours, he ordered all members of the clan to gather in the center of the village, where a tall torch illuminated his figure imposingly. Clad in his ceremonial armor, he seemed more like a symbol of ancestral authority than a man confronting his own internal fears.
"My people," he began, his voice echoing through the cold night air. "We are at a decisive moment in our history. We face forces that seek to destroy us, but we will not yield to despair. Starting tomorrow, we will leave these lands that have been our home for generations. It is a decision I do not take lightly, but it is a necessary step to ensure our survival."
Upon hearing this, murmurs began to fill the plaza. Some expressed fear of the unknown, while others debated the sacrifice of leaving their home. Arisuke raised a hand, silencing the crowd immediately.
"We will head to the Land of Fire to join forces with the Uchiha clan. Although we will face challenges along the way, we must remember that this sacrifice is for the sake of future generations. I ask for your trust and your strength. Together, we will move forward."
The message was met with a mix of cautious approval and resignation, but something in Arisuke's firm tone managed to instill courage in the hearts of his people. Preparations continued throughout the night, with the renewed determination of the clan members.
...
A couple of days after the events that shook the Chinoike clan, the scene shifted to a clearing hidden deep within a shadowy forest. This place served as a temporary base for a group of errant ninjas, operating with lethal precision under the orders of an imposing leader. The characteristic sound of a buzz broke the calm air, announcing the arrival of a messenger coming from afar.
The ninja, completely dressed in black, entered the clearing with an urgency that was evident in his movements. His face, concealed behind a veil of fabric, barely revealed traces of sweat covering his brow. Without waiting, he bowed before his leader, who sat facing a map stretched out on a makeshift wooden table.
"It seems that the ninjas from our clan have wiped out the Chinoike clan," he reported quickly, without raising his head.
The leader, a tall figure with broad shoulders, tilted his head slightly, his mask partially obscuring his face. Although he maintained his composure, his dark eyes revealed a mixture of curiosity and distrust. Something about the report didn't convince him.
"Where are the ninjas we sent?" he asked, his voice deep and laden with authority.
The messenger hesitated for an instant, as if searching for the right words to explain the inexplicable. "We don't know, there's no trace of their whereabouts," he replied cautiously.
The silence that followed was almost palpable. The other ninjas, stationed near the edges of the clearing, exchanged furtive glances, aware that their leader did not tolerate uncertainty.
"Mhm..." murmured the leader, rising slowly from his seat. His figure stood with an intimidating presence, making even the trees seem to shrink around him. "Are you sure they eliminated the entire clan?" His tone reflected a mixture of consternation and skepticism.
"The village is completely drenched in blood," the messenger continued, bowing more deeply as if trying to escape the weight of his superior's gaze. "But no bodies were found at the site."
These words made the leader click his tongue in irritation. A desolate village, clear signs of combat, and blood everywhere, yet not a single corpse... This was not a result he could accept without investigating it himself.
Without uttering another word, the leader raised a hand, signaling two of his closest subordinates to accompany him. His black cloak swayed with the rhythm of his firm steps as he advanced into the forest, heading toward the Chinoike village to assess the situation firsthand.
The journey to the village wasn't long, but the tension in the air made it feel eternal. The sound of dry leaves crunching beneath their boots and the soft whistle of the wind were the only companions on their path. The leader walked at the front, carefully analyzing every detail of the terrain around them. His instinct told him that there was more to this story than they had been informed.
When they finally reached the edge of the village, what they found was unsettling. From the outskirts, clear traces of a recent fight could be observed: fallen trees, kunais embedded in the ground and trunks, and broken weapons scattered among the undergrowth. The air was filled with a metallic scent—the unmistakable essence of blood—that grew stronger as they ventured deeper into the village.
The streets, if they could be called that, were covered in crimson stains. The pools of blood seemed to have been left in a chaotic frenzy, marking every corner of the place. The houses were destroyed, their doors ripped off and their windows shattered, as if an unstoppable force had swept through.
The leader advanced slowly, his boots splashing the damp ground with every step. His eyes scanned every detail, noting everything: the sword marks on the walls, the damage to the roofs, and the evidence that ninjutsu techniques had been used in multiple areas.
After several hours of inspection, the group left the village. The leader, visibly tense, remained silent for much of the return journey. Upon reaching the clearing where the rest of the group awaited, he turned to his subordinates and spoke with a voice that admitted no argument.
"It seems the mission was completed, so they must have reunited with the daimyo of the Land of Lightning. We will withdraw and wait for their return to our clan," he declared.
The group, filled with anticipation, looked on with satisfaction. They anxiously awaited the promised reward, and more importantly, the opening of a new sector for missions in the Land of Lightning.
With palpable joy, all the ninjas departed, convinced that their future would be filled with riches and opportunities.
...
Land of the Hot Springs
Dawn brought with it a renewed sense of hope and tension. The caravan was ready to depart, with wagons loaded with essential supplies and escorted by the remaining ninjas of the clan. Every step they took was a reminder of what they had left behind, but also of what they might gain at the end of their journey.
Arisuke walked at the front, leading the group through narrow paths and forests that seemed endless. Although the pace of the journey was slow, each decision was carefully calculated to avoid potential ambushes.
As they progressed, Hirohide and Taro, always impatient, began to voice their complaints.
"Patriarch," Hirohide said with a sigh, "if we continue at this pace, it will take us months to reach the Uchiha clan. We could move faster if we weren't carrying so much baggage."
Taro nodded in agreement, adding, "That's true. This journey is exhausting enough without having to worry about keeping a low profile all the time."
Arisuke stopped abruptly, turning to face them with a piercing look that instantly silenced them. "Do you think this decision is easy for me? Every civilian in this caravan depends on our protection. If we pick up the pace and expose ourselves, we'll endanger everyone. I won't forget your bravery on the battlefield, but this requires patience and discipline."