Time passed unnoticed, and the weather had turned thoroughly cold.
All the leaves in Konoha had fallen, leaving only bare branches. A thin layer of white frost covered the grass in the morning, crunching beneath one's feet. The wind carried a dry chill that burrowed straight into people's collars.
It had snowed yesterday, draping Konoha in white. Rather than easing because of the change in weather, the atmosphere in the village grew increasingly heavy.
Reports from the border arrived intermittently, some good and some bad. No one could say when this conflict would end.
The atmosphere in the Hokage Office within the Hokage Building was somewhat gloomy.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, gripping a freshly delivered intelligence report. His eyes remained fixed on its contents, his brows knotted tightly.
Wisps of smoke rose from the pipe at his lips, curling before him and making his face seem somewhat blurred.
Mitokado Homura sat in a chair nearby, his hands folded before him and his eyes closed. He seemed to be resting, yet also deep in thought. His expression was calm, but at some point, his brows had furrowed.
The office was quiet. Only the faint crackle of tobacco burning in the pipe and the rustle of Mitokado Homura's clothes when he occasionally shifted positions could be heard.
Hiruzen Sarutobi set down the report and raised his head. "The intelligence arrived in time."
His voice was somewhat hoarse, as though he had smoked too much, but only he knew that it was caused by his concern over the war at the front.
He really was getting old. Hiruzen Sarutobi now felt that his energy was no longer what it had once been.
"From the looks of it, Kumogakure has no intention of launching a full-scale war against Konoha for the time