The Paper Butterflies' Warning and a Deathly Standoff

Baishi leaned back in the broad leather chair. The searing heat of Kushina's palm against his back had yet to fade completely. The Nine-Tails' fierce, pure vitality coursed through his meridians, replenishing what his precise control of Dust Release had drained. Eyes half-lidded, he idly rubbed the rough grain along the edge of his desk while staring at the Chakra Water Mirror floating in midair.

In the mirror, the light at the edge of the Forest of Death was as murky as stagnant water. Now that murk had been stirred into a frenzy.

Hundreds upon hundreds of pure white paper butterflies emerged from cracks in the soil, beneath dead leaves, and the shadows of tree trunks. Their wings had edges as sharp as blades, slicing through branches and leaves with a fine, shrill rustle. The sound passed through the mirror into the office, like countless tiny files scraping against eardrums.

"What are those?" Kushina frowned and twitched her nose. The faint, cool fragrance that had appeared with the paper butterflies seemed strangely familiar. Baishi had carried that scent when he came back last night.

Mikoto Uchiha stood quietly behind Baishi and to one side, watching the paper butterflies fill the mirror. Her intuition told her there was something unusual about that cool fragrance too. But she was far more discreet than Kushina. She buried her suspicions and silently replaced Baishi's tea with a fresh, steaming cup.

Baishi ignored Kushina's questioning look. He took a sip of tea. Its bitterness slid down his throat and sharpened his mind. Then he raised his right hand, pressed his index and middle fingers together beside his lips, and sent a drop of ink-dark Yin Release Chakra from his fingertips toward the mirror.

The sentries Konan left behind will make a convenient mouthpiece. He sneered