Main world.
Konoha Year 29, winter.
The Land of Grass, at the border.
The rain had stopped.
The sky was still overcast. The clouds were thick, and no sunlight could pierce them, leaving the land a murky gray. On a distant hill, Ōnoki stood with his hands behind his back, his short figure like an unremarkable stone beneath the gray sky.
Kitsuchi stood behind him, holding a newly delivered intelligence report. His face was grim, his brow furrowed deeply enough to crush a fly.
"Father, news from the Valley of the End. Kumogakure withdrew, but Konoha didn't win either. Both sides lost a lot of men."
Ōnoki did not turn around.
"How many did Konoha lose?"
"Twenty-two hundred dead. Eight hundred wounded."
"And Kumogakure?"
"About four thousand killed in action. No count of the wounded."
Ōnoki fell silent for a moment. Three thousand against twenty thousand, twenty-two hundred dead, and Kumogakure had withdrawn. This was not a "pyrrhic victory," but "not losing." With twenty-two hundred lives, Konoha had told the entire shinobi world: I'm not to be trifled with. With four thousand lives, Kinkaku had told the entire shinobi world: I dare to fight.
"Father, are we... still staying neutral?"
Ōnoki turned and looked at him.
"What do you think?"
Kitsuchi was silent for a long time.
"I don't know. Konoha seems capable of fighting, and so does Kumogakure. I can't tell who will win and who will lose."
"That's exactly right," Ōnoki said calmly. "Kinkaku wants Konoha dead. Konoha wants Kinkaku to lose. Who do we want to win?"
"We want Konoha to win?"
"No." Ōnoki shook his head. "We want Kumogakure to lose. Who wins doesn't matter. Who loses does. If Kumogakure loses, the Land of Lightning will weaken. If the Land of Lightning weakens, the Land of