Tsunade wasn't the only one to enjoy herself after the war council meeting ended, Tajima also enjoyed the rarest of luxuries on the front lines: peace and quiet with his family.
Well, as many of his family as he could get. He sat with Fugaku and Asami, with the tent flap tied open to let in the cool evening air.
Tajima sighed, staring at the ceiling of the tent. "If Azula were here, this war would've ended two weeks ago. But then again, she's probably off… perfecting her laundry-folding technique or something equally weird."
Fugaku, seated stiffly beside his mother, fought the urge to roll his eyes. His father missed his sister, the man wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to Azula.
Fugaku couldn't help the tiny flicker of envy in his chest. If he disappeared even for a year, would the old man even notice before the next meal?
But then again, it was nee-san. I miss her too, he admitted to himself. Even if she did use me as target practice for her 'playful' fire jutsu last year.
Asami watched her husband and son with an amused smile. She had long ago accepted that she was the only one in this tent with a fully developed brain.
"According to the clansmen in the village, she's been back for two days," she said smoothly, sipping her tea, a gift she had gotten from Azula. "Knowing our daughter, she's probably ready to appear at any moment, just waiting for the most dramatic possible time to do so."
The tent flap was yanked open.
"No one knows me quite like you, Mother."
Azula stood in the entrance, silhouetted against the light like a terrifying goddess of war. She stepped inside, and not a single barrier seal, tripwire, or alarm tag so much as twitched, which they should have.
She could have been a ghost.
"Nee-san!" Fugaku jumped to his feet, his initial joy immediately replaced by sharp-eyed suspicion. "Wait… why is your face red?"
It was faint, barely visible unless you were looking for it. A light dusting of pink across her cheeks that absolutely did not belong on the face of the Uchiha clan's Matriarch.
It was the exact same shade Fugaku had seen on his idiot friend Nawaki's face after he'd stumbled upon that manga behind the Hokage monument.
Fugaku's own face erupted in a mortified crimson. DO NOT THINK ABOUT THAT INDECENT MANGA, FUGAKU.
Asami and Tajima exchanged a loaded glance. A silent conversation passed between them in less than a second.
Asami: So, that's happening.
Tajima: She's almost fifteen, and he is almost nine.
Azula, blissfully unaware of her parents' telepathic counseling, cleared her throat with theatrical dignity. "Ahem. I simply teleported directly from the village. A slight… miscalculation in chakra exertion."
She lied with the flawless grace of someone who had been practicing in the mirror since birth. My brother's innocent eyes must never see weakness. Or the fact that I saw my 'best friend' naked and lost control while activating the Sharingan. Damn, I probably almost awakened the MANGEKYŌ SHARINGAN.
Before Fugaku could probe further, Tajima sighed.
"I thought you'd stay in the village for more than a week. You've never been away for more than three weeks, and now you've been gone for almost three months, but after you returned, you left immediately?"
His tone was gruff, but his eyes—those sharp, battle-hardened Uchiha eyes—were soft. He missed his little girl. He'd never say it without sarcasm, but he missed her after a month.
Azula met his gaze, then glanced at her mother. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "I don't remember ever seeing Mother outside of the village for more than three weeks, either. Yet the moment she returned from Uzushiogakure, you dragged her straight to this mud pit."
"First of all," Asami shot back, a hint of a smile playing at her lips, "it was my choice to come here. Nobody dragged me."
She waved a dismissive hand before her husband could interject. "Anyway, enough about that. How about it? You hungry?"
Azula shook her head, already settled onto a supply crate. "Ate before I left."
Her gaze swept the tent. It was bigger than Tsunade's, which said something. Tajima might carry himself like just another veteran shinobi, but Konoha knew exactly what they had in him.
Reputation and titles were one thing; status was another. This tent sat three comfortably, which meant Fugaku had probably been crashing here too.
Her brother, for all his Uchiha pride, wasn't even Jōnin yet. The thought of him bunking with their father while refusing to pull rank—
Azula's lips twitched. Yeah. That had their mother's iron fist written all over it. Fugaku would rather sleep in the branches like some rookie than hear anyone's lecture about entitlement.
She turned back to Tajima. "How's the front? I heard Kumo went quiet after your dance with the Raikage."
It wasn't exactly secret intel. Hiruzen had made sure of that, spinning the confrontation into propaganda so fast it probably gave the council whiplash.
He was probably thinking the morale was already high, so why not polish Konoha's reputation while the iron was hot?
Tajima's expression shifted, that easy serenity giving way to something more measured.
"They were aggressive before we arrived. Pushed past the Land of Frost entirely, we had sightings near Hotsprings." He paused, letting the implication settle. "After our... exchange, they pulled back. Still poking around with reconnaissance, but no major movements."
"They haven't withdrawn to Kumo." Azula stated it flatly, not a question. Her mind was already working, slotting pieces together. "Which means they're not retreating. They're repositioning."
She tilted her head, considering. If she were the Raikage right now, outmatched, outgunned, pride bruised, what would she do?
"They're going to look for friends," she said. "Iwa's the obvious play. Probably whoever else will listen."
Tajima nodded. The serene mask had slipped completely, leaving something harder underneath.
"That's our read too. The village is bracing for Iwa, Suna and whoever else smells opportunity, although it's unlikely for any other village to dare to enter Konoha's sights." He paused, thinking about something. "What we don't know is what Sarutobi's planning."
You'd have to be brain-dead not to see it coming. After what happened in Uzushio and Kiri, when the three clans flexed very hard, the entire shinobi world was staring at Konoha like they'd just watched a man pull a sword out of a stone.
You don't unsee that, and you certainly don't forget it.
So obviously, the leftovers like Kumo, Iwa, and Suna were going to do what any rational animal does when it spots a bigger predator on the horizon: huddle up.
A real alliance this time, not that flimsy paper treaty nonsense. They'd be defending their right to exist, and when people fight for that, they fight mean.
The smart play was for Konoha to hit first, hard and fast. Knock one of the three out before they can even lace up their sandals. That's how you win wars before they start.
But no.
Hiruzen, the Hokage, the man with the hat and the final say, decides Konoha will defend the Land of Fire—just hold the line.
Now, sure, technically Hiruzen's not calling the shots on the frontline anymore. That's what the council's for.
But the council's still operating on village direction, and that direction came from him. So his fingerprints are all over this strategy, or lack of one.
And that's what's gnawing at everyone on the frontline. It isn't disrespect or rebellion, just... confusion. Because nobody here thinks Hiruzen's an idiot.
So what's the angle? What's he seeing that they're not?
Azula's theory? He's not seeing anything. He's hoping.
"Probably isn't planning a damn thing," she mutters, and nobody blinks. They're used to her taking scalpels to sacred cows. "Hiruzen's a hypocrite with an idealism complex."
In her head, she's already stacked him next to Naruto. Same vibes, less sincerity. Naruto would bleed himself dry trying to find another way, sure. But he'd also punch you in the face if you threatened his people while he was looking.
Hiruzen just waits. Asks the other side to take a step back. Then another, and then another. Until they're backed up against the wall and pulling out knives because there's nowhere left to go.
And then, only then, does he act.
That's not strategy. It's avoidance dressed up as patience.
Tajima chews on his daughter's words like tough meat. He trusts her read on people. If she says Hiruzen's an idealist, then the man's got some pretty picture in his head that doesn't include Konoha painting the map red.
But what picture?
For a second, Tajima almost has it, almost sees it. But then he shakes his head, because the thought is too stupid to hold.
No, it can't be. He's the Hokage. He wouldn't just... hope they settle down, would he?
It'd be like a lion watching a pack of starving hyenas circle its cubs… and deciding not to roar because he hoped they might get bored and leave.
(END OF THE CHAPTER)
I promise a chapter almost the double of this one tomorrow and don't forget to vote, hope we can make it back to the top three next week although it feels like impossible, but this lord can hope for more melon