Noon. The Tsurugetsu Izakaya was nearly empty.
Shōi sat gloomily behind the counter, distractedly flipping through the ledger.
Where had he gone these past few days? Why hadn't he come to see her?
She flushed suddenly, remembering how his movements had grown faster and stronger the last few nights they were together.
She'd seen him grow—not just in strength as a shinobi, but in masculine force as well.
Maybe he'd taken a mission outside the village.
Two merchants stepped into the izakaya.
"Boss lady, bring us a bottle of sake."
She heard the voice first, and her heart clenched.
That voice…
She looked up slowly and saw a girl. A girl younger than her.
Her sister?
The shock flickered through her gaze for a brief instant.
Shōi worked as a spy for Iwagakure. Her more gifted younger sister, Mei, served as a ninja in the Hidden Stone Village.
All of Shōi's payments and rewards from Iwa were sent directly to Mei.
Why was her sister here?
Could she be a contact? Sent here for a handoff?
Why would the village do that—after everything she'd already done?
Shōi had just gotten a crucial piece of intel: in five days, Uzumaki Mito's funeral would be held.
When the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, was still alive, he hadn't hidden the identity of the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki.
With his power, the Nine-Tails wasn't such a big deal—there was no need to treat it like some top-secret village asset.
So Mito being the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki was open knowledge.
Shōi knew this intel was of utmost value to her village. And now they'd sent Mei herself.
Her sister's presence meant one thing: the village was making its final demand of her.
Either she confirmed the intel and was recalled to Iwa, to live openly again as a kunoichi—
Or she failed. And died. Taking everything she cherished down with her.
Mei had disguised herself as a merchant here on a commissioned mission. A risky, exposed identity.
"Welcome! We offer mid-range, high-grade, and premium sake—what would you prefer?"
"Premium. Let's taste what kind of booze the great Konoha has to offer!"
The code matched.
Shōi's last thread of hope vanished. Mei hadn't come here by chance.
She selected a bottle and brought it to Mei.
Mei trembled with excitement. She hadn't seen her sister in three years.
But they couldn't embrace. They had to act like strangers.
Mei raised the cup and examined the bottle carefully—there, she spotted the carved symbols.
Two days later, this bottle would appear in a nearby trash can. Hidden inside would be Shōi's final confirmed intel.
Iwagakure needed the most accurate information on Uzumaki Mito.
Shōi retreated to the back courtyard and entered a private room.
She took out all her saved money—ready to act in these next two days and confirm the truth.
While tidying up, she saw a razor.
His razor.
Had he found some new little minx?
Nearly half the budget for her final mission came from him.
Every time he visited, he ordered the most expensive beef, drank the purest sake.
If she were truly a citizen of Konoha, maybe she'd try to be with him.
She'd known him for so long. He gave her a name once, but she knew it was fake.
He'd said it was Miqu, but that was just one of the ingredients listed on a sake bottle.
Still—his stability of temperament… it was a rare virtue among shinobi.
So many ninjas suffered mental breakdowns. They seemed normal on the surface, until one night in an izakaya they'd recall something from a mission, and go berserk.
Some had killed the wrong people. Some had killed too many. Some had been tortured. Others doubted by their own village.
Thankfully, the Uchiha Police Department was nearby. Their shinobi often came to handle such outbursts.
Shōi headed to Konoha's largest sake distributor.
"Boss, my izakaya's business has been down lately, so I'm planning a promotion. How much premium sake do you have in stock?"
"How much can one shop even move?"
"I need at least 20 cases per day. For five days straight."
While chatting, she signaled one of the sales clerks.
He understood immediately and stepped in to pull the owner aside with the excuse of a VIP customer, leaving Shōi alone.
That sales clerk was one of her own informants—finally proving useful.
She entered the office, locked the door, and took out a key.
A key she had long ago duplicated in secret.
Carefully, she opened the safe—and found the accounting ledger.
The Senju Clan had stopped ordering sake?
She checked the dates. Starting yesterday, the Senju Clan had ceased all alcohol orders.
She flipped through more pages and found something that made her heart race.
The Uchiha Clan had increased their sake orders.
The Senju and Uchiha Clans had a notoriously bitter relationship. Constant internal rivals.
Especially after Uchiha Kagami's death—communication between the two clans was nearly nonexistent.
If the Senju had stopped ordering, it meant they were preparing for internal misfortune.
If the Uchiha were increasing their orders, it meant they were preparing to celebrate.
Taken together, Shōi was certain—her fellow spies had been right.
Something disastrous was coming for the Senju.
And it could only be the death of the aged Uzumaki Mito.
Leaving the distributor, Shōi moved to her next target, seeking further proof.
Throughout Konoha, Iwa spies scurried in secret, investigating quietly.
Meanwhile, on the border of the Land of Grass, a middle-aged man floated in mid-air.
The Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki, was gazing in Konoha's direction.
Behind him stood five battalions of Iwa-nin.
The jinchūriki of the Five-Tails, the steam-wielding ninja Han, approached Ōnoki.
"Tsuchikage-sama, the troops are assembled."
Han glanced at his leader, noting the slight tremors in his hover—a rare crack in the old man's composure.
They were about to strike Konoha's heart. During a Nine-Tails jinchūriki transition. With Mito gone.
A gamble. A high-risk invasion.
If successful, the reward would be monumental. If not, over three hundred of Iwa's elite could die.
Ōnoki said, "The more critical the moment, the calmer we must be.
We are a great stone—massive, immovable. But when we do move, we strike like a landslide, destroying all beneath.
Once our spies confirm the final piece of intel, we march on Konoha from a thousand miles away!"
This was the heavens offering Iwa its greatest chance.
The Nine-Tails, after all, was said to be pure malice—vicious, hateful.
After years sealed by Mito, it must hate her and Konoha both.
With the beast's rage as their weapon, they would cripple the Leaf.
In a Konoha alley—
Mei retrieved the sake bottle from the trash.
The carved notches confirmed the message. The intel was real.
Satisfied, she left swiftly.
Having completed her mission as a merchant, she was set to exit the village.
She glanced one last time toward her sister's izakaya, heart full of hope.
At last, big sis can come home. We won't have to live apart anymore.
In the Land of Grass, Ōnoki received the message.
He raised his arm high.
He would personally lead the charge—
—to crush Konoha.