"Akamaru says your scent has changed," Kiba suddenly said.
Chisen opened his eyes.
"What scent?"
"Less blood. Less medicine, too." Kiba looked down at Akamaru. "He says there's another scent. He can't say what it is. Like the first snow of winter."
Chisen looked at Akamaru.
Akamaru tilted his head at him, his eyes dark and gleaming, like two black beans soaking in water.
Chisen reached out and patted Akamaru's head.
Akamaru stuck out his tongue and licked his finger.
"Salty," Kiba translated for Akamaru.
The corner of Chisen's mouth twitched.
The Hokage Building. That night.
Tsunade summoned Shikamaru to her office. Three letters lay spread across her desk, one each from the Lands of Lightning, Wind, and Earth. They had arrived together, and their contents were almost identical: agreement to peace talks, acceptance of the terms, and a request to sign in person.
Shikamaru read all three letters and put them down.
"Too fast."
Tsunade nodded.
"Unnaturally fast."
"What are they afraid of?" Shikamaru asked.
Tsunade arranged the three letters in a row and studied their nearly identical wording.
"They're afraid Chisen will recover," she said. "If they sign now, the terms may be harsh, but at least they're signing of their own accord. Once Chisen recovers, they won't be signing voluntarily. They'll be dragged there and forced to sign."
Shikamaru leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.
"Should we tighten our terms a little more, then?"
Tsunade considered it.
"No. The current terms are just right. Any harsher, and they'll go back on their word even after signing. Any softer, and we might as well not sign at all. The equipment of three hundred thousand troops, melted down into farming tools and distributed to farmers-that clause stays."
"Chisen's idea?"
"Chisen's idea."
Shikamaru gave a faint