Morning in the Land of Earth was light and cold, yet quickly became warm, particularly this far south. The rocky lands have little shade outside of the mountains, and until the sun had a chance to warm the air, there was a chill about.
Even before we stepped out of our room, I could feel the village waking beneath my feet—chakra signatures stirring, pathways bustling, the ordered, efficient rhythm of people who had learned to live with hard rock instead of soft soil.
Kanna dressed quietly, careful not to jostle Karin too much as she swaddled her. She looked tired, but not from poor sleep alone. The news from the night before still sat heavy on her shoulders.
She was such a kind soul, so to hear of such a tragedy touched her deeply. It was no wonder that Grass had taken advantage of her.
"Kaguya-hime…" she started softly, then hesitated. "Do you think… he suffered?"
"Minato?" I asked. Almost confused about the sudden concern for the man, I understood if she was concerned for Kushina, being of the same clan, but Minato?
She shook her head, clutching Karin closer. "The baby. Their baby."
Her words did clear my doubts. Naturally, someone like Kanna was mostly concerned for the child who lost both his parents on the day of his birth. "Not as much as he will in the future," I said honestly. "He has a long life ahead of him."
It was meant to be reassuring. Somehow, it was not.
We went downstairs.
Kitsuchi was already waiting in the common room, sitting at a corner table too small for his size. He rose when he saw us, broad shoulders straightening, a polite smile pulling at his mouth.
"Good morning, Kaguya-hime, Kanna-san," he greeted us warmly. "I trust you slept well?"
"I have slept in caves during wars and in trees during storms," I said. "This bed was… acceptable."
Kanna shot me a small, helpless look of apology on my own behalf. Kitsuchi just laughed.
"That's indeed the life of a shinobi," he said. "Please, this way. We've reserved a private room."
Of course they had.
We were guided into a small chamber separated from the main area by a sliding stone door rather than wood. A low table, cushions, a few paper windows to let in some light and not make it seem like a cell—yet still with thick walls of stone to block sound.
A fine place for a private conversation.
Breakfast was already set.
Most of it was simple, heavy food. Steamed buns with dense fillings. Pickled roots. A stew thick with barley and small chunks of meat. The kind of meal meant to sit in a stomach all day while its owner carried rocks up a mountain.
It was, for sure, food meant for someone who needed a lot of energy, and given the amount of meat, a rather expensive meal—though clearly still civilian in nature.
I didn't know if Kitsuchi planned this meal, or if someone advised him, but it was clearly one meant to show off the wealth of the Land of Earth.
Kanna hesitated at first, then began eating, slower than her usual pace. Karin gurgled and smacked her lips against the blanket, occasionally grabbing for Kanna's sleeve.
I also partook, though it was a bit more salty than I normally preferred, and the meat lacked the care of the higher-end places I normally stayed at. Still, it was a good enough meal.
Kitsuchi picked up one of the stone cups and took a drink before speaking, as if establishing that this was a meal between equals, not an interrogation.
"So," he began, voice mild, "I appreciate you hearing me out yesterday. A lot happened in a short time. I dumped more than enough on you both."
"No worries. It is valuable information, something we had missed. You did us a favour informing us," I replied.
Kanna glanced down, her fingers tightening slightly around her chopsticks. She still hadn't fully recovered from learning that Kushina—an Uzumaki from her own homeland—had died on the day her son was born.
Kitsuchi seemed to notice.
"We don't share that kind of information lightly," he added, more gently. "But Iwagakure doesn't want you to think we are playing games. If we ask you to consider us… it must be as a village willing to trust you, not just use you."
A nice sentiment.
Not entirely truth.
But well-delivered.
I rested my chin lightly against my hand. "Very well. Let's talk seriously, then. Say I were to consider… tying myself to Iwa. What would that actually mean?"
Kanna's head snapped toward me.
"Kaguya-hime—"
"Considering," I said softly. "Not agreeing." I looked back at Kitsuchi. "You are here to negotiate, yes? Then negotiate."
His expression sharpened. Whatever easygoing, almost goofy air he tended to project, it slipped just a little, showing the soldier underneath.
"All right," he said. "Then I'll speak plainly."
He set his cup down and laced his fingers together.
"Iwagakure would offer you and your household permanent residency. Housing appropriate to your status. Financial support, if you wanted it. Access to supplies, equipment, medical care—the same rights as any elite jōnin family."
Kanna blinked. "That… that sounds like a lot."
"For someone like her?" he snorted. "It's a bargain."
His eyes flicked back to me.
"Of course, we are not a monastery," he continued. "We are a village. A military power. We would expect certain things in return."
"Such as?" I prompted.
"First—that you would not take hostile action against Iwa or its interests," he said. "Inside or outside our borders."
"Reasonable," I said. "Continue."
"Second—that if you remained long-term, you would register with the village administration. Nothing invasive—simply an acknowledgment that you live under our protection."
I let him talk.
"Third…" He paused. "That you avoid taking jobs that would directly empower our enemies. Especially Konoha and Kumo. Neutral work, we can tolerate. Work that strengthens those who might one day threaten us? Less acceptable."
Kanna drew in a small breath. For someone who had only ever thought of survival, these were the kinds of questions she'd never imagined needing to consider.
"And lastly," Kitsuchi finished, voice lower now, "that if a crisis arose which threatened Iwagakure's existence… you would not stand aside."
I tilted my head. "You mean you would call on me."
"Yes," he admitted. "My father would expect that if you chose to live under our banner, you would be willing to raise your hand when the village truly needed it."
There it was.
Not slavery. Not conscription.
But obligation.
Honestly, it was far more reasonable than I had expected, and… I was starting to understand why this guy was skipped over as Tsuchikage.
He didn't really negotiate; he was basically telling me their bottom line right from the beginning rather than start high and see where I was at.
"I see," I murmured. "So if Iwa faced a threat it could not handle alone…"
"We would ask for your help," Kitsuchi said, honest enough to not dress it up further. "Not for every skirmish. Not for every border dispute. Only when stones themselves began to crack."
Kanna swallowed, nervous.
"And if Kaguya-hime said no?" she asked quietly.
Kitsuchi held her gaze for a moment, then spoke with measured care.
"If she lived within our walls," he said, "and refused to act even when our people faced annihilation… then Iwagakure would have to reconsider what it means to shelter her."
Not a threat.
A fact.
Yet completely responsible. I would have freedom to pick my work, but naturally it would be likely I picked missions in Iwa itself. Which meant that I would be one of their shinobi in all but name.
Kanna didn't fully realize just how generous these terms were, so she grew tense at his words, picking up a threat where there were none.
I broke the tension with a soft laugh.
"You speak like a man who has had this conversation with your father already," I said.
Kitsuchi gave a wry smile. "You're not wrong."
"What does Ōnoki expect?" I asked. "Truly."
"That you will not accept quickly," he said. "That you will move cautiously. That you will test Iwagakure as much as we test you."
His gaze became more serious.
"But he also believes," he added slowly, "that if you ever do choose a land… you won't choose lightly. And if we are that land, then you won't betray it."
Kanna looked at me as if seeing something weighty in the air between us.
I said nothing for a while.
I let the silence stretch, using the time to consider the delicate situation I was in. The deal he was offering was almost too good, making it far more difficult to turn it down.
Because I would turn it down.
I never intended to join, only to give them the illusion that I might—buying myself free passage through the Land of Earth in the future.
Finally, I spoke.
"You offer stability," I said. "Protection. Resources. You ask for restraint… and willingness to act if your people face erasure."
"Yes," Kitsuchi said. "That is the core of it."
"And yet," I continued mildly, "you must know that what you offer sounds almost too good to be true, and while my companion might not see that, I do."
His lips twitched. "I had noticed."
Kitsuchi poured the last of the tea, settling back with the calm patience of someone who knew the real conversation was only just beginning.
"So," he said lightly, "is Iwagakure a place you could someday call home?"
Kanna looked at me nervously.
I didn't answer right away.
"I appreciate your village's hospitality," I finally said, "and I appreciate you, Kitsuchi-dono, for speaking openly with us."
Kitsuchi inclined his head. "Then allow me to be equally open. My father sees potential in you. Not simply as a shinobi—but as someone who can reshape the future."
"And that is precisely why I cannot rush this decision," I replied.
He raised a brow, not offended—curious. "Oh?"
"There are many considerations," I continued. "I know my value, and I know the difference between a powerful kunoichi and a kekkei genkai clan—more so two possible clans."
Kanna stiffened in her seat; while she might not have understood everything, this was something she understood all too well.
Kitsuchi sighed. "I guess we won't get around discussing this, will we?"
"We won't," I confirmed.
(End of chapter)
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