The cries of summoning beasts pierced Konoha's night sky.
Not one, but many.
They flew in from every direction, some soaring high on beating wings, others skimming close to the ground.
Most of these ninja beasts were wounded, their feathers charred, their scales shattered, their bodies stained with blood.
But they did not stop. They kept flying, kept crying out, their calls sharp and urgent, as though urging someone to hurry.
Tsunade woke to the noise.
First, she rolled over and pressed her pillow over her head, trying to shut out that damned birdsong.
But the hawk stood right on her bedroom windowsill, its head tilted, tapping the glass incessantly with its beak. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
"Shut up..."
Cursing under her breath, Tsunade sat up in bed, her hair a bird's nest, the sash of her sleeping robe half undone.
She rubbed her eyes and walked toward the window, still stumbling with sleep.
"Who let their bird loose... in the middle of the night..."
She drew back the curtains. A gray-brown hawk stood on the sill, a small bamboo tube tied to its leg.
When the hawk saw her, it cried out again, more softly this time, as though saying, "Finally awake."
Tsunade froze.
She recognized this hawk. It was a messenger ninja beast used exclusively by the Anbu, deployed only in emergencies.
Most of her drowsiness vanished instantly. She flung open the window, pulled the bamboo tube off the hawk's leg, and tipped out the letter inside.
At the same time, hurried footsteps and knocking sounded outside her door.
"Lady Tsunade! Lady Tsunade!"
It was an Anbu operative's voice.
"Urgent military intelligence! Please open the door immediately!"
Tsunade unfolded the letter while shouting toward the door.
"It's unlocked! Come in!"
Several Anbu operatives pushed through the