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moshi moshi
The meeting ground was a secluded clearing, a neutral zone between territories. A series of minor clan representatives stood in the center, waiting for the arrival of their powerful guests.
Suddenly, the air grew thick, the sense of something deeper at play hanging just beneath the surface. The Uchiha moved swiftly, their steps quiet as shadows among the trees. Yagami led the group, a tactical genius, his eyes sharp for any indication of danger. Madara and Izuna flanked him, while Arai remained in the back, eyes scanning for any clues that would give the team an advantage.
On the other side, the Senju entered with a calm presence—Bunta, the tactical leader, walked at the front. Hashirama and Tobirama trailed behind him, Hiroshi close by. Their approach was less aggressive, more observant, yet still carrying a quiet intensity. The Senju were ready—prepared for any eventuality.
The minor clans were unaware of the imminent arrival of both sides, their attention distracted by the murmurs of hidden agendas that had been set into motion. What they didn't know was that the game had already begun—before a single word was spoken.
As the two teams moved closer, the tension grew. And the world of the minor clans—about to make decisions that would shape the fate of the war—was about to face its first true test.
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The forest was quiet, unnaturally so. Deep within a region declared neutral ground since the days of their forefathers, the minor clans convened under the heavy shroud of secrecy. It was a clearing surrounded by towering oaks, moss-covered stones, and age-old roots. The chirping of birds had ceased, as if the very earth held its breath.
A stone altar—worn and cracked with age—stood at the center. Around it gathered the representatives of six minor but influential clans: Sarutobi, Shimura, Kurama, Nara, Yamanaka, and Akimichi.
Each arrived cautiously, well-armed, and in tightly controlled groups. No banners. No loud declarations. Only nods, narrowed eyes, and hushed conversation. Trust was a rare currency, and none here spent it easily.
They came to talk peace, or so they claimed.
But none of them believed that was truly possible.
Above them, cloaked by genjutsu and hidden in the trees, four figures watched with sharp eyes.
Yagami Uchiha stood like a statue, his expression blank but alert. Beside him, crouched silently, were Madara, Izuna, and Arai. Each kept their Sharingan active but suppressed, letting the flicker of red remain faint beneath their lids.
"They're early," Madara muttered.
"They're cautious," Yagami replied. "Good. That means they're afraid."
Arai leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at the formations. "They're evenly spread. No one is standing too close to another clan. Watch the Kurama—nobody's facing them directly."
"They fear genjutsu," Izuna said. "Rightly so."
"They fear each other," Arai murmured, "but they fear us and the Senju more."
A silent moment passed. Even without speaking, the conclusion was mutual: these clans had no interest in unity for peace—they wanted to survive the war by making themselves untouchable.
"They're going to form a shadow alliance," Yagami said. "A pact to share intel, avoid open battles, and wait out the conflict."
"They're hedging bets," Arai added. "If either Senju or Uchiha wins, they'll swoop in weakened. Opportunists."
Across the clearing, unknown to the Uchiha, another team watched. Hidden behind natural cover and chakra suppression seals, Bunta Senju scanned the scene.
With him were Hashirama, Tobirama, and Hiroshi. Their presence was equally silent, their expressions grave.
"They're playing games," Tobirama said coldly. "Watch the Shimura. Eyes always shifting."
"They're all watching each other," Bunta replied. "Nobody here trusts a soul."
Hashirama, calm as ever, tilted his head. "That might be the only honest thing here."
Hiroshi, his gaze flickering between the clans, whispered, "They're all lying."
"Hmm?" Hashirama turned.
"They speak of unity, but every instinct says they're stalling. I can feel it. They want a net, not a pact."
"You think they'll betray each other?" Bunta asked.
"No," Hiroshi said, "not yet. They'll play along until one of them shows weakness. Then they'll strike. It's survival masquerading as diplomacy."
Tobirama narrowed his eyes. "Smart kid."
Hashirama added, "But we shouldn't interfere. Father said observe only."
"And if someone detects us?" Tobirama asked.
Bunta's voice turned cold. "Then we erase all evidence and leave from here."
Below, the summit began.
An elder from the Sarutobi stood in the center, hands behind his back, his voice steady.
"We all know why we're here. The world changes, fast and violently. The Uchiha and Senju wage war like gods, burning the world around them. If we remain separate, we'll be swept aside."
The Shimura representative stepped forward, arms crossed. "And if we unite? Under who? You?"
"We unite under common interest," the Sarutobi elder replied. "Survival. Influence. Control of neutral trade routes. Intelligence exchange."
The Kurama speaker, veiled and quiet, said only, "We value cooperation. But genjutsu makes everyone uneasy."
The Nara leader, fingers laced together in front of his lips, spoke slowly. "We have the numbers to form a bloc. Not a kingdom. Let's not mistake alliance for empire."
The Yamanaka nodded. "An information web, not a military front."
The Akimichi laughed. "And if either of the big clans attacks us?"
"Then we feed each other," the Yamanaka replied calmly. "And hide each other."
No one outright said it, but the implication was clear: they were building an invisible wall between the great clans and themselves. Not neutrality—detached control.
"This is dangerous. Not now—but later. If they grow strong together, we'll have to break them apart."
Madara scowled. "They're cowards."
"No," Arai countered. "They're predators who wait until the prey is weak. Like wolves."
"They think we're the prey?" Izuna asked.
"They think they won't be the first to die," Arai replied.
Yagami didn't speak. But the glint in his eyes said everything: this would not be forgotten.
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Sayonara