Meanwhile, in Konoha.
At first light, the messenger from the Land of Fire rose in Konoha's guesthouse.
He dressed, fastened his belt, and straightened his clothes, then rehearsed his audience speech three times before a bronze mirror, weighing every word.
Then he stood by the window and waited for a summons from the Hokage Building.
But even when the sun climbed high, the Hokage Building remained silent.
Sweat slowly beaded on the brow of this veteran messenger, who had spent over a decade at the Daimyo's Mansion.
Konoha had always invited him in with the utmost respect. Since when did he have to stand around waiting on their pleasure?
Since when had he needed to "wait for a summons"?
Unfortunately, Konoha's rules showed no interest in his objections.
He looked out at Kage Rock. The Fifth Hokage's likeness was still freshly carved.
That boy...
What kind of place had he turned Konoha into?
At the Chen Hour.
Measured footsteps suddenly sounded outside the guesthouse, approaching from afar.
The messenger leaned out to look, and his heart tightened.
A squad of Hyuga shinobi in Clan Attire, their Byakugan faintly active and veins raised at their temples, was "escorting" another travel-worn party down the street.
Sunagakure Forehead Protectors. He recognized them at once.
A Sunagakure messenger had arrived in Konoha today too.
Sunagakure's messenger was a veteran Jonin in his forties, travel-worn and grave-faced.
From the moment he entered Konoha, his steps grew slower.
At the training ground near the village gate, the Five Great Forces were in the midst of morning drills.
Ranks stretched like a forest. Chants shook the air. Ninja Dogs snarled over the crash of shield walls, wave after wave of noise rolling across the grounds.
*Was this... a village that had just lost its Kage