Minato was about to drag his good friend, Hayashi, onto the bed beside him. Although Hayashi protested verbally, his movements betrayed him. Deep down, he didn't resist much—though he'd never admit that out loud.
Meanwhile, inside the command tent at the base, Tsunade and Orochimaru were still locked in discussion about the ongoing war.
"Shouldn't we send more reinforcements to Sakumo?" Tsunade asked, her tone filled with concern. "The side effects of his secret technique are too heavy for him to handle alone."
Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed. "It's fine," he said calmly. "You know Sakumo's strength. He's more than capable of handling any situation."
Even someone as prideful as Orochimaru couldn't hide his respect for the famed White Fang of Konoha.
"That's true," Tsunade conceded. "The reinforcements we sent him are all elite shinobi from the major clans."
"If the Third Hokage hadn't ordered so many additional forces, we wouldn't have been able to spare anyone to support him," she added with a faint smile.
"These clans wouldn't have deployed troops if they hadn't come to some sort of agreement," Orochimaru replied in a faintly disdainful tone.
He wasn't wrong. The war had dragged on for over a year, reaching a grueling stalemate in the Land of Rain. The real reason was internal division. Konoha was not as united as it appeared on the surface.
War decisions—like which shinobi would be sent to the front lines or kept in the village—were politically charged. Civilian ninja were simple to assign, but clan shinobi were far more complicated.
Some clans, with smaller populations, preferred to preserve their strength and send fewer fighters. Others sent more, eager to earn battlefield merits and secure future influence. A strong performance on the front lines could turn into fame and political capital back home—especially for those eyeing the future position of Fourth Hokage.
But certain higher-ups in the village had no desire to see rival clans gaining too much prestige. Thus, the internal friction continued, and the war dragged on unnecessarily.
Orochimaru sighed softly.
"The Hokage doesn't have it easy either," Tsunade said, rubbing her temples.
"They actually think they can win this war with mostly civilian ninjas?" Orochimaru replied sarcastically.
Tsunade sighed again. Her teammate had become increasingly cynical, and perhaps rightfully so.
"Still," she said, changing the topic, "now that this new wave of support has arrived, we can hold the line and slowly wear the enemy down. If we maintain the stalemate, the war in the Land of Rain should end soon."
"But the enemy won't just sit back and let that happen," Orochimaru countered. "Iwagakure has already shown signs of desperation—they even sent out their Jinchūriki. Do you really think they'll continue to play a waiting game?"
"The Four-Tails' Jinchūriki has already been stopped by Sakumo," Tsunade said, frowning.
"Iwagakure isn't the only problem," Orochimaru replied. "There's also Sunagakure—and Hanzo of the Salamander."
"You're suggesting they might join forces?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "That's impossible. The Sand has already begun retreating."
"Not to mention," she continued, "the Land of Wind's treasury is nearly empty. The Third Kazekage boasted he'd conquer the Land of Rain in three months, and now they've made no progress at all. They can only pull back."
Orochimaru's eyes narrowed slightly. "However," he said, "according to the latest report from Jiraiya, a massive shipment of supplies suddenly arrived in Sunagakure."
Tsunade's expression darkened. "That's impossible. Where would they get that much food?"
"I've been thinking about it," Orochimaru replied evenly. "And there's only one place capable of providing that quantity."
Tsunade's pupils contracted. "Where?"
"The Land of Fire," Orochimaru said plainly.
Tsunade's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you certain?" she demanded, standing up so abruptly that her stool clattered to the floor.
Orochimaru nodded slowly. "Enough food to support an entire village… I can't think of any other nation capable of supplying that."
He continued his analysis with that same eerie calm. "If the Land of Fire really sold it, then there are only two explanations.
"First, the merchants of the Land of Fire might have made a deal behind the Daimyo's back. Driven by greed, they secretly sold their country's grain to the Land of Wind at an outrageous price."
He shrugged. "The risk is high—but so are the profits."
"And the second?" Tsunade pressed.
Orochimaru paused, his expression darkening. "The second possibility is that the Land of Fire's Daimyo himself authorized it."
"…Are you serious?"
Even Tsunade, who had seen nearly everything, found the idea hard to swallow. The thought of their own Daimyo secretly funding enemy villages during wartime was absurd. Such treachery would destroy the Land of Fire's reputation and devastate the morale of every Konoha shinobi fighting on the front lines.
Tsunade clenched her fists. "I'd rather believe the first scenario—that greedy merchants are behind it—than think the Daimyo would betray his own country."
Orochimaru's expression didn't waver. "Unfortunately, I'm more inclined to believe the second possibility."
He looked away, his tone colder now. "The Land of Wind is barren, far worse off than even the Land of Earth. They can't sustain a long war against a resource-rich nation like ours without help."
"Alright, alright," Tsunade interrupted with a sigh, rubbing her forehead again. "Even if that's true, what would the Land of Fire gain by helping them? It makes no sense to strengthen the enemy and hurt our own forces."
Orochimaru folded his arms. "Because to the Daimyo, shinobi are just tools—a knife to be wielded. And to ordinary rulers, the sharpness of the knife doesn't matter. Only profit does. Wars are fought over resources, not honor."
He smirked faintly. "When there's money to be made, who cares about the lives of ninjas?"
Tsunade glared at him. "Do you have any proof?"
"No," Orochimaru said with complete confidence. "If I did, I wouldn't be speculating."
"So what will you do?" she asked, sitting back down.
"Nothing," he replied simply. "Once the war in the Land of Rain is over, we'll deal with the aftermath."
Tsunade let out a long sigh. He was right. Right now, nothing was more important than ending the war. Still, a heavy fatigue settled over her. She wasn't sure if it came from her concern for the village—or her growing disillusionment with the Land of Fire itself.
Maybe when all of this was over, she thought, she'd take a long trip far away—somewhere peaceful, away from war and politics.
As that thought passed through her mind, Tsunade rose quietly from her seat, exhaling a soft sigh that faded into the heavy air of the tent. Outside, the rain continued to fall on the battlefield, washing away blood, but not the bitterness that came with it.
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