Rain drummed steadily against the tiled roofs of Konoha, slicking the streets in silver. The village was alive with motion—messengers sprinting under cloaks, merchants stacking crates, shinobi ducking into meeting halls with scrolls tucked under their arms. Word had gone out: the next Chūnin Exams would be hosted here.
Inside the Hokage's tower, the council chamber was warm with lamplight and tension. Hiruzen Sarutobi sat at the head, pipe resting on the edge of the desk, though he hadn't lit it. His gaze swept over the advisors gathered—Homura, Koharu, Danzo—and the ANBU kneeling in the shadows.
"The announcement is official," Hiruzen said. "We'll host teams from all major villages within two months. Security will be paramount. No incidents."
Koharu tugged her shawl tighter. "Incidents will happen. They always do. We must account for them."
Homura nodded. "Especially with foreign teams roaming our streets."
Danzo's cane tapped once, steady and deliberate. "And with Eclipse Order growing in Wave, we'd be fools to think they won't use the Exams to show their hand."
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed. "There is no evidence they intend to participate."
"No evidence they intend not to," Danzo countered. "The blindfolded man has already humiliated our Root operatives twice. The boy with Sharingan is a variable we cannot ignore. If Wave inserts a squad under Mist's banner—"
"Enough," Hiruzen cut him off. His voice wasn't raised, but the weight silenced the room. "We will not provoke shadows. We will prepare, not antagonize. Shikaku will coordinate surveillance. ANBU will monitor foreign movements discreetly. No aggression without cause."
Danzo inclined his head, the barest concession. His eyes, sharp and cold, promised the matter was not closed.
Hiruzen exhaled slowly. Outside, thunder rolled. The Exams would bring more than genin tests. They would bring storms.
Far to the southeast, Wave's skies were clear.
Ren stood over the great map table in the Eclipse compound, fingers trailing across coastlines inked with precise care. He was taller now—still boyish in frame, but his eyes were not a child's. Three tomoe spun easily when he willed them, reading lines, reading patterns.
"The Exams," he said simply.
Zabuza leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest, massive blade resting beside him. "Good stage for blood. Too public."
Escanor sat nearby, shoulders filling the room even at dusk. His quiet voice carried weight. "Too many eyes can be a shield as well as a blade."
Ren nodded. "Exactly. We need presence, but not exposure. If I go, the Sharingan will draw every hawk in the sky. If you go," he glanced at Escanor, "your magic will scorch the board too soon. And if you go," he looked at Gojo, who was sprawled with his chair tilted dangerously back, "you'll troll the Hokage until he retires again."
Gojo grinned under the blindfold. "Tempting."
Ren continued, "So we send someone who belongs there. Someone with roots Konoha will accept."
Zabuza's head turned. "You mean Haku."
Ren nodded once. "Mist knows his bloodline. If Mei vouches, no one questions it. He goes as a Mist shinobi, with two companions we train. Eclipse gets its eyes inside the Exams without waving our banner."
Zabuza's bandages shifted with his smirk. "Smart. But Konoha won't like foreign ghosts sniffing their streets."
"They'll tolerate it," Ren said. "Because the alternative is war. And no one wants war—not yet."
Gojo rocked forward, letting the chair slam onto all fours. "Guess that means I'm due for a field trip. Haven't stretched my legs in Kiri for a while."
Ren gave him a flat look. "Don't break the Mizukage."
Gojo's grin widened. "No promises."
Kirigakure's halls smelled faintly of brine and steel. The Mizukage's office was bright with afternoon light, Mei Terumī seated behind her desk, auburn hair spilling over her shoulders. She glanced up as the door opened, lips curving into a polite, dangerous smile.
"Blindfolded men don't usually knock," she said.
Gojo strolled in, hands in his pockets, tilting his head. "I'm special."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You're reckless, appearing here without guards."
"I don't need guards."
The silence that followed wasn't comfortable. Mei gestured for him to sit. He didn't. He leaned casually against the window frame, watching gulls circle outside.
"Wave grows bold," Mei said. "Your… Eclipse Order has changed the balance of trade. Some of my advisors argue it's too bold."
Gojo smiled lazily. "Bold keeps the pirates away. You should thank us."
"I do," Mei said smoothly. "But I also wonder: boldness is rarely free. What do you want from me?"
He turned his head then, blindfold aimed her way, and his tone softened just enough to be serious. "We want Haku in Konoha. Under your flag. Official."
Mei blinked. "The boy? He's loyal to Zabuza."
"Loyal to us," Gojo corrected. "And disciplined enough to play his part. You vouch for him, and Wave doesn't even need to raise its own banner. Everyone stays comfortable."
Her fingers tapped the desk once. "You're asking me to gift you legitimacy."
"No," Gojo said. "I'm asking you to share it. You know as well as I do: if Eclipse grows, Mist benefits. Our trade runs through your docks. Our soldiers buy your steel. The more stable Wave becomes, the stronger your southern flank looks."
Mei studied him for a long beat. "You talk like a diplomat. I thought you were a weapon."
He shrugged. "Why not both?"
Then her smile curved sharper. "Words are one thing. But power… I prefer to test that myself."
The air thickened. Steam rose faintly as Mei's chakra flared. Lava shimmered at her fingertips, molten drops hissing on the stone floor.
Gojo tilted his head, amused. "Oh, you're fun."
She moved first—quick seals, a surge of vapor that boiled into the air, filling the room with a choking cloud. Boil Release. Gojo didn't move. The mist curled, seethed, then stopped a hand's breadth from his skin, as if an invisible wall rejected it.
Mei's eyes sharpened. She snapped another sequence, lava bullets streaking across the office. They froze midair, hanging like ornaments, heat bending but not touching.
Gojo raised a finger, tapped one, and let it splatter harmlessly to the floor. "Cute."
Mei's lips pressed thin. "You're untouchable."
"Not untouchable," Gojo said lightly. "Just… hard to schedule damage with."
She inhaled, steadying her chakra, then let the techniques fade. Her voice, when she spoke again, was cool. "Very well. Haku will be entered as a Mist genin with two teammates. But hear this: if he dishonors our name, if your games drag my village into disgrace, I will cut ties. No matter how strong you are."
Gojo smiled, faint but genuine. "Fair deal. And don't worry. He won't disappoint."
Back in Wave, Ren sat in the map room when Gojo returned.
"She agreed," Gojo said cheerfully, dropping into a chair. "Haku's now a proud Mist shinobi. Uniform, headband, and everything."
Zabuza's chuckle was low. "Kiri vouching for him. Never thought I'd see the day."
Haku bowed slightly, face calm but eyes bright. "I'll not fail the Order. Or Mist."
Ren studied him for a long moment, then slid a folded parchment across the table. "Your squad leaves in a week. Two trained companions will go with you as genin. You lead. Remember: you're Mist in public, Eclipse in truth. Observe. Protect our interests. Nothing more."
Haku accepted the parchment with steady hands.
Ren leaned back, eyes narrowing. Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura. They'll be there. The Exam that shaped everything is about to begin. But this time, it won't play out the same. This time, Eclipse will be in the shadows.
The candles flickered as the wind shifted. Ren's three tomoe spun once, steady and sharp.
"Konoha will see its future unfold in those Exams," he murmured. "And so will I."