Derecho

The day before the meeting dawns early, accompanied with that odd mix of excitement and dread.

Trepidation.

Mayu double checks the crate of Sealed Scrolls, close to a hundred bundles of paper sealing countless more scrolls taken from Danzo’s archives and offices scattered through Fire Country. They’re at the Western Outpost, one of the biggest outposts along the border of Fire Country and Hot Water, it’s a smattering of buildings built from living wood high in the canopy of Hashirama trees.

Herself, Sai, Megumi, and Neji are part of the Hokage’s political party for the Meeting. The rest of the Party is made up of her father, of course, Councilman Iruka, Councilman Genma, and fifteen of their most loyal Shinobi, led by Uncle Gai, acting as guard. The meeting is being held in an abandoned safe house in the forests just outside the border of Lightning, coincidentally, very close to the Hatake Ancestral grounds.

No one knows what the old building was, before it was converted into a safe house during the First Shinobi War, it had stood empty for years before Kumo took it. Though, Mayu suspects it belonged to the Hatake in some capacity, being so close to their family grounds felt like more than just a coincidence.

Mayu straightens from her inspection, marking off the last of the items on her inventory check list, and lets the Jounnin assisting her reseal the crate. Suzu huffs from her spot lounging in the sun spot let in through the skylight, Sai absently scratches between her ears as Isao puffs into existence beside him.

“Suna has encountered surprise conflict from unknown Shinobi.”

Both Hatake turn their full attentions to the small terrier.

“Do they need back up?” Mayu doubts it, Gaara’s gotten meaner since their childhood training, but a delay could be perceived as a political slight or a sinister machination in a situation like this.

The terrier shakes his head, bearded snout twitching. “No, they’ve got it well in hand. Baki says they’ll meet up with our contingent in Hot water.”

Sai tosses Isao a jerky treat and the little dog poofs away. “Do you think it could be related to Akatsuki?”

Mayu hums, considerate, “No, they would’ve said if they were getting attacked by S class missing nin. It’s either got something to do with Danzo’s mysterious ‘Spectre’ or…”

“It’s a coincidence?”

Sai looks doubtful even as he says it.

“Right, a coincidence.”

_______

The Kage and his contingent had left early that morning, when the sun was still asleep and the sky dark with the absence of the stars.

Naruto had been up since yesterday afternoon, with Kakashi-sensei needing one last interview with Itachi before the Meeting. It was through general consensus that Itachi’s reports of the Akatsuki would best be delivered second hand, so thankfully today the rest of Team 7 could sleep in.

Well, except Naruto. Naruto was kind of having a crisis.

Kei, one of Naruto’s operatives from his own budding spy network, had sent along his report with one of his messenger toads a few hours ago. Jiraiya had missed three—fucking three— check ins, and the reason for the slow report was due to the untimely ousting of a multitude of rats in Jiraiya’s much bigger network. Three check ins meant months of no contact, and Kei had only been able to report to Naruto because the Innkeeper had grown suspicious of the prolonged radio silence from Jiraiya’s end of the network. Kei being the bridge between his and the Sannin’s network.

So now Naruto’s been up for going on thirty hours, commandeering the downstairs office, and contacting every single spy he can in both his and his mentor’s networks. It’s a frustrating labyrinth of dead ends, confusion, and miscommunication, no doubt promoted by the recently ousted rats.

There is only one underlying fact, Jiraiya went radio silent sometime beyond Ame’s border. Which had been almost eight months ago, all the way back when Team 7 first returned to Konoha.

Naruto wants to scream. He shouldn’t though, the rest of his team is exhausted, the three of them still asleep upstairs.

Tama, a small white toad with yellow markings around her eyes and down her back, poofs back into the office a short stack of files and letters beside her.

“This is the last of the network, Naruto-kun!” The blond falls onto the small pile of papers with a fervor that would better fit a ravenous beast.

Nothing. There’s nothing. No one knows what happened, no one has seen or been in contact with Jiraiya.

Naruto slams his hands onto the dark wood of the office desk, frustration, worry, and anger bleeding from him in a short scream. Chakra spikes from upstairs, then the thud of hurried footsteps as the the rest of his Team come running.

Sasuke and Sakura come barreling in first, Itachi hovers in the doorway a dark swathe of shadow.

“Jiraiya is missing.”

There is only one truth, all hands point to Ame.

_______

Baki sighs as the rest of his team rounds up the bodies of the unknown enemy nin, none of the twelve shinobi held any village affiliations on their persons’ and none of their physical attributes pointed to any one country. The whole squad featured forgettable, average faces and bland features.

They’d been waylaid only an hour or two, and would have to make up for lost time to meet at the new rendezvous in Hot Water. If it hadn’t been for Gaara and his special brand of vicious bloodletting they’d probably be facing none too many casualties. Now the rest of the team were dealing with the mauled corpses, while Temari fussed over the blood liberally staining her youngest brother, damp cloth swiping red from his pale face.

Baki sighed again, heavier.

Gaara had…not quite changed, but had gotten…better? With the introduction of a healthy REM cycle the teen had become significantly more stable. At first Baki, and the rest of Suna, had hoped that perhaps the Hatake-hime had managed to shock sense into their Jinchuuriki. Alas, when pushed, or perhaps just in the right mood, Gaara was the same bloodthirsty, manic person he’d always been. Thankfully his fixation on Hatake Mayu seemed to tame the worst of his…attitude problems.

Once, Baki had thought to warn her, or even her father, of Gaara’s growing…attentions. Then Hatake Kakashi had taken the Hokage seat and proceeded to gut his own village. Baki decided he didn’t want to start another War over puppy love. Risking the ire of one Hatake was bad enough, risking the wrath of a very vengeful Hatake Hokage would be apocalyptic.

Across the red stained battlefield Gaara, done with baring his sisters fussing, bats her hands aside to take the washcloth for himself, scrubbing the wet thing over his face forcefully. In the center of the field the rest of the team finish dumping the last of the bodies into the Doton created hole, another Jutsu buries and breaks the bodies down into fertilizer.

Baki sighs once again, resigned. The only evidence left of this skirmish will be a patch of particularly healthy wild flowers.

_______

All involved parties arrive at the meeting point within the same hour, Kumo having also brought surprise guests in the form of the Kusakage, and a representative of Ame. The designated meeting hall is a hulking, stone building two stories tall with two basement levels. The hall their group convened in was vast, at the center of the building and open to the second floor; with a viewing balcony that would soon be lined with the multitude of guards brought by each contingent. A massive, heavy, dark wood table had already been set up, perfectly circular and polished to a shine.

Now it was the awkward time between arrival and the commencement of the meeting, where everyone scrambled to set things up and gather what was needed. It’s a mad scramble because the hope is that the meeting can commence before any kind of scandal.

Whilst the rest of the “adults” are busy posturing Mayu hooks her arm into her brothers, and wanders them both over to another outlier lurking on the outskirts of the great meeting hall.

She’s a Kumo nin, as evidenced by her dark skin and blonde hair, and she’s very, very tall. Like taller than the Raikage tall, and built like a mountain, a very muscular mountain. One of her thighs is probably as big as Mayu’s torso, and two of Mayu could sit on the woman’s shoulders and be perfectly comfortable. Her blonde hair is tied tightly against her skull in multiple braids down to the nape of her neck, the rest of her curls explode down her back in a pale mane.

The woman turns one inquisitive eye to the Hatake siblings approach, brow raised.

Mayu doesn’t think she’s ever seen a black person in this lifetime. African? Africa doesn’t exist in this world though, so probably just Kumo Native. Angel, an immigrant of South Africa, had been both a member of Sara-Grace’s storm chasing crew and the closest thing Sara-Grace ever had to a sister. Now, seeing these Kumo nin here, was enough to make Mayu homesick for the first time in over a decade.

“Hello!”

The woman hums in acknowledgment, but still says nothing.

“I’m Hatake Mayu, and this is my brother!”

“…Hatake Sai.”

Mayu blinks at her brothers sudden hesitation, sneaking a glance at the older boy. His grip on her arm has tightened just a bit, but he refuses to look at her, dark hair hiding his face from Mayu.

Is he…flustered?

Mayu feels an evil little smile stretch over her face. Sai has never shown interest in anyone outside of their immediate family, ever.

“I am C, youngest sister to the Raikage.” Wow, her voice is perfection. Sai’s got great taste.

Wait. A, B…C.

“You’re parents must’ve had a horrible sense of humor.”

No Sai! Don’t insult the stunning Kunoichi’s family in the first meeting!

C surprises both Hatake siblings when she throws her head back in a loud laugh, voice deep and booming. C’s hand is big enough to clap both siblings on the back at once, nearly bowling them both over.

“I think we’ll get along great, Hatake whelps!”

Wow. Mayu doesn’t think she’s ever seen Sai blush like that.

…

The meeting is not going well, once they’d started unraveling Danzo’s machinations someone brought up the previous wars. Then Kusa, with the immense losses and the economic collapse in the Second Shinobi World War, were still pissed about being left as sitting ducks to Danzo’s machinations and how they eventually lost the few clans in their village to extinction via poaching and disguised murder.

Then the Raikage got pissed about the meeting spiraling out of control and took the only valid reaction of trying to get in her dads face about bullshit that was both not his fault, and not his problem. Seriously, not even Grandpa Sakumo had been alive for most of these peoples complaints.

Bunch of idiots.

Sparks begin to fly, literally, between her dad and the Raikage. The Kumo leader attempting to posture, and her dad simply running out of patience.

Again. Idiots.

“Enough!” The exclamation is a surprise from a surprising source, hands slamming onto the meeting table and flaring chakra until the whole room is sweltering. It’s enough to break mounting tension, and force the Raikage back into his seat. The interruption is the representative of Ame, Miyamoto Mogu a middle aged man with long, riotous rust red curls, neon yellow eyes blazing in contained fury.

Mogu heaves a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “This meeting was not called to spiral around the machinations of a dead man. Shimura Danzo is dead.”

Yellow eyes drag across each and every person present in the meeting hall, bright gaze unnerving in it’s harsh reprimand.

“Do you hear me?” His voice is level, but it seems to boom around the room. Echo up ancient stone walls.

“Shimura Danzo, is dead.”

Mogu straightens, smoothing out the misty grey of his Kimono. His hands are weathered, calloused from work, but his dress is simple and he carries no weapons. The look in his eye is hardened through trial, but he doesn’t carry the same surety of a seasoned veteran.

Mayu realizes, with a sudden clarity, that Ame’s representative is a civilian. But why would his chakra be so grand? So refined to turn the air near burning? A quick inspection of Mogu’s small accompaniment reveals them to be shinobi, clothes well worn and nearing threadbare, but armor and weapons looking new and high quality.

Miyamoto Mogu, representative of Ame, is a civilian blacksmith. No doubt he wields some kind of jutsu, perhaps even a bloodline limit, given the way he wields his chakra. Most definitely fire based, and most probably used to forge his people’s weapons.

“Out of all you petty, warring nations. My people boast the greatest, and most current, claim for vengeance and reparations.” His hands rise to fold behind his back, Mogu doesn’t waver not for a single moment even beneath the scrutiny and poorly concealed hostility of many of the shinobi present.

“Konoha tore my country apart, trampling our villages, stealing our food, burning our fields, and slaughtering us.” His mouth draws up in the mockery of a smile, nothing more than a baring of teeth.

“Kusa, a once ally and our own neighbor, refused us aid and barred all refugees from their country.” The Kusakage has the decency to look a touch ashamed at least, grass green eyes boring holes in the lacquered table top.

“Suna only swept in behind Konoha, stealing anything they missed, killing any stragglers.

Miyamoto Mogu is a terrifying man, not because of his great power, or wealth, or military backing for he holds none of this.

“When I caught wind of Danzo’s schemes, when I unearthed the depths of his depravity in my own homeland, not even then could I find resolution in the agony of my people.” A breath, the careful shutting away of an age old rage.

“Danzo was not responsible for even half the crimes committed against my people. All of you were. Your villages bare the guilt of the senseless violence, and rape of my country.”

It is because he loves his people, fully and wholeheartedly. Because he does not cling to hope, he creates it.

“By all rights I should lay this blame at your feet, but I choose not to. I choose not to.” Mogu retakes his seat, and the guards at his back press closer to him.

“Because I am but one civilian man in a dying country. So in the end, what good would it do?”

He accepts a thick scroll from the Kunoichi beside him, setting the wrapped paper down and unraveling it in one swift motion.

“I am here to see my people to justice, to freedom. You are all here to see an unknown enemy defeated. We all want the same thing, so what the fuck are we waiting for?”

_______

The meeting halts for a much needed recess, and Mayu quickly goes to find a dark corner to slump in and breathe for a moment. To process. Sai finds her quickly, but his presence is unobtrusive as he slumps to the ground opposite to her, long legs knocking against her own.

Akatsuki. The terrorist organization that had been founded, and made its home, in Ame, the one Megumi had spoken to her of sparingly. He’d confessed to her in low tones of misplaced guilt that he’d not really paid the second half of Naruto the anime much attention, and though he’d written out and agonized over every detail he could recall the original plot to the story was all but shot. All they had now, was profiles of people and the few concrete facts carried over from before Team 18 began to fuck everything up with their mere existence.

They’d honestly hoped that perhaps Akatsuki wouldn’t ever turn up. Worst case scenario they’d turn out to be a completely different group of people, with an entirely different goal. Idly, Mayu wonders if anything else will change, if perhaps one of the terrorist cell was also foisted with an unexpected child, cousin, or sibling. She hopes that if there is a change, then it’s a positive one.

When Pein lowered his iron fist over his homeland he only made the struggling economy worse. Higher taxes to fund his organization, people starving in the streets as what little food they had was taken, children snatched right from their homes to be made into soldiers.

Miyamoto Mogu had been the first to stand against the corruption when they came to take his two year old son, and killed his wife in the process. With his peculiar bloodline limit he’d essentially melted the shinobi sent to his home. Mogu had quickly begun to harden the resolve of the beaten down people of Ame, giving them hope, and reminding them of the anger in all their hearts.

He’d become “The People’s Kage”, and had been fighting against Akatsuki ever since as a renegade force.

It was honestly kind of funny. Pein sought the callous oppression of his own people, but still counted on them to grow crops, farm animals, and forge weapons. With his bloodline assisted weapons forging, and the still shaky economy of Kusa, Mogu forged an alliance and finally arranged for refugees to be set free into Grass Country.

Then Mogu set his country on fire. Livestock slaughtered in their pens, fields of crops burned to ash, stores of metal and weapons stolen or melted down. With the people gone, there was no one left to clean up the mess.

According to Mogu, Iwa was also connected to Akatsuki. When the supplies within the country dried up, Iwa sent caravans. But the foot roads between the countries were long and treacherous, easily sabotaged.

But what was Akatsuki after, and what were the ties between them and Danzo? The big questions so to speak.

Akatsuki wants to gather all nine Jinchuuriki, extract the tailed beasts within, and combine them together to forge some kind of super weapon. Presumably to take power over all the other nations.

Or resurrect a moon goddess so she can destroy the world.

Danzo was funneling them money, missions, and manpower. His connection, the mysterious ‘Specter’, was part of Akatsuki but his true identity unknown. It was presumed he was either part of their leadership, or the real puppet master.

“The easiest way to prevent Akatsuki from getting what they want, would be to remove their target from the playing field entirely.” Sai muses aloud, thoughts spinning within void black eyes.

“Obviously we can’t just walk around killing Jinchuuriki, I don’t think any of us have enough manpower to sacrifice on such a stupid idea. We also can’t just waltz up to them and inform them of the threat, they wouldn’t believe us.” He sends her an exasperated look. “Not to mention, most of them have fled their villages. Whereabouts unknown.”

Mayu straightened from her dejected slump, violet eyes alight. “We use The Network!” Sai blinks at her, before realization dawns on him.

The spy network. Jiraiya and Naruto’s spy network, the vast spiderweb spread across almost all the nations. It takes in information across their whole world, so why can’t it distribute it as well? Rumors are a Shinobi’s way of life after all.

The siblings scramble up, darting off to find their father.

_______

Rumors really do spread like wild fire.

Team 7 and Itachi had left the night the Leaf contingent had returned, Naruto to contact and spread the rumors through The Network, and search for Jiraiya. The old Sage apparently missing.

It takes eight days before all the countries are whispering, and two weeks before the sporadic reports of missing nin of the Sealed Monster variety halt all together.

It’s been a week since then, three weeks in total, and everyone seems to waiting with baited breath. Waiting and watching, no one wanting to make the first move.

Then the border skirmishes start, sporadic and seemingly random. They hit every country within the week, sometimes the attacking forces are Iwa, or Kumo, or Suna, or even Kiri.

Kumo, Kusa, Konoha, and Suna hold strong, they know where they stand. They do nothing but fend off the attackers and carry on like nothing has happened. It’s very telling that all the other countries do much the same, even Iwa remains passive when a “Konoha” squad blows up an outpost along their southern border.

They will draw this Specter out, like poison from a wound.