Konoha camp, on the border of the Land of Rain.
The glow of the Flying Thunder God formula faded from the mud outside the tent. Nawaki landed on one knee and took a ragged breath.
Crossing such long distances in quick succession had consumed a considerable amount of chakra.
Tsunade stood beside him, her hem fluttering in the rainy wind, a fine mist clinging to her long golden hair.
The tent flap was half-open, releasing a rush of damp, warm air tinged with the smell of medicine.
Jiraiya sat on a folding stool inside, his arms braced against his knees and his head bowed, white hair falling over half his face.
Orochimaru leaned against a support post on the other side, his hands tucked into his sleeves. His golden, slit-pupiled eyes stared at the ground, and he said nothing.
Tsunade lifted the flap and walked inside.
The sound of her footsteps made Jiraiya look up.
The instant he saw Tsunade, his expression froze, then turned slightly awkward.
"Tsunade... you're here."
Orochimaru turned his head slightly to glance at her as well, but said nothing.
He clearly hadn't expected Tsunade to come in person.
Tsunade surveyed the tent. A map lay spread across the table, several circles drawn on it in ink, with a few spots showing signs of repeated corrections.
Scrolls and medicine bottles were piled in a corner. The smell of disinfectant and antidotes still lingered in the air.
"What's the situation?" Tsunade asked.
Jiraiya rubbed his face and drew a deep breath. "We can't break through."
The words came out flat.
He raised his head, an unfamiliar look of defeat in his eyes.
"Since we got here, we've tried three frontal assaults. We were driven back every time."
Orochimaru finally spoke.
"Ibuse's poison gas covers a much larger