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081 - Dead Men​

Land of Mushrooms

We are the silent bones beneath the fields,

The unsung, the unnamed, who lie in the fields, faceless and forgotten.

We were told it was for freedom,

For symbols and borders, for peace.

But we know now, in this shadowed silence,

That it was for nothing, for no one, for dust.

There is no glory here, only the endless night.​

***​

Hashirama stood before a familiar sight: Fields of ashes all around as far as the eyes could see. It reminded him of his childhood, sad as that might sound. Involuntarily, memories best forgotten resurfaced.

Blood-soaked fields of red,

Silent cries beneath cold skies,

Ashes drift like snow.

Blinking away visions of his old enemies laying waste to swathes of territory, Hashirama returned his attention to the present. From horizon to horizon, the Kage sensed only ruin; a battlefield bereft of life. Even he had trouble discerning who the victor of the battle had been. The earth had long chilled, and the fires that once scorched them were deceased as well. He had been late by about three days, at least; more than enough time for the survivors of the battle to have moved on to die on another battlefield.

Alas, despite his immense strength and undying stamina, there were only so many places the Senju could be at once. Iwagakure's offensive was growing in intensity; with Konoha's forces spread as thinly as they were across its expansive borders were, in many battles, outnumbered twelve to one. Each passing hour saw more enemy troops pouring into the frontlines, complicating matters and making the task of containing the western front a much more impossible one.

Hashirama went down on one knee, pinching a handful of ashen dirt from the floor. He might have gotten late to the battle, but that didn't mean this swathe of territory was lost. Stalling the rate at which Konoha's borders shrank was just as important as destroying pockets of enemy forces as he stumbled upon them.

Defence in depth was the Leaf's current wartime strategy, with each successive layer proving more troublesome to overcome than the last. However, for that to work, they had to make the enemy bleed for every stretch of land gained. Hashirama's chakra churned and a great rumbling emanated from beneath the ground he stood. From the ashen soil, great trees sprouted into being. Taller and taller they grew until their crowns eventually blotted out the sky. Within this newly formed forest, twenty by twenty kilometres wide, no light touched the earth, and from the branches of the great trees, grand flowers blossomed, releasing yellow pollen into the now stale air.

Hashirama rose to his feet as scores of simple wood clones peeled off from his back to melt away into the forest. Now, anyone who attempted to penetrate this barrier would find themselves at great risk of dying a gruesome death.

However, the Senju knew his methods were not invincible. Eventually, this forest would be cut or burned or vaporized like the dozens before it. Such was the way of war. All he could hope for was that the hours spent clearing this blockade and the other like it would give his allies closer to the heartlands more time to entrench themselves deeper in preparation for a valiant defence.

***​

Shinobi wars were profoundly different from mundane ones. For one, rarely could a man, by his lonesome, decide the fate of an entire battle. In a conflict between ninjas, however, this was a common occurrence.

Despite their rarity, historical texts from before the time of the Rabbit Goddess still exist in some secluded monasteries across the five great nations. These scrolls narrated the state of the world when chakra had yet to be harnessed by men. A time when Samurai, bound by honour populated the realm and looked down on shinobi as honourless dogs that struck from the shadows. Castles were defences feared and coveted by all, rather than the less important logistics hubs they were today; seen by most as just marginally better positions to hold ground, revered more for their symbolism than anything else.

Yet, even then, peace was but a fleeting dream. A trifling lord with no personal strength greater than his fellow man could inspire hundreds to die and fight in his name; wielding the same influence as mighty the Kages.

Those days were long gone; numbers scarcely mattered in wars today. A man alone can halt the advance of an entire nation. Even children could wield seemingly deific powers capable of inflicting great horrors.

Ōnoki stared at the expansive forest of death that stood smack dab in the centre of one of his forces' main logistics routes. Like fat in an artery, it clogged the flow of supplies, impeding Iwagakure's war effort. The first Hokage was a pestiferous opponent, one he still had not dared meet in battle.

As much as he would like to face the Senju in battle, Ōnoki knew that would be an unwise decision. Not only because he would surely not survive the exchange, but also because it would severely harm Iwagakure's interests.

The only thing he could really do to challenge the undead Senju was undo his efforts on the battlefield.

His hands came together to weave hand signs and from his clasped palm a glowing, translucent sphere formed. It grew continuously until Ōnoki decided it was potent enough for the task at hand. Mentally, he formed a barrier in the shape of a rectangular prism to contain the fallout of his technique, funnelling it towards the deadly forest ahead.

Hebi!

塵遁・原界剥離の術

Jinton: Detachment of the Primitive World Technique!

For a moment, a blinding flash of white light filled the chakra barrier followed immediately by a potent cloud of grey dust that was contained within it. When the smog cleared, a perfectly level and straight path was cut cleanly through Hashirama's blockade. The pathway stretched all twenty kilometres across and was half a mile wide.

Like someone had taken an eraser and rubbed out pencil lines on a sheet of paper, the removed sections of forest and earth had ceased to exist entirely.

Ōnoki was slightly exhausted by the exertion, but he knew he could not rest. Dozens more similar blockades existed along the entire length of the border and before the sun went down, many more would follow.

Such was the way of Shinobi wars; a grotesque cycle of creation and destruction.

***​

Jinrui was expectant.

Spies had sent word days ago of an impending attack by the Leaf. Bold, one might assume the claim to be; surely Konoha had too much on its plate to bother meddling this far away from their shores.

Alas, the Leaf's desperation only grew, its stench disgraceful. The village needed assurances that Waves would not join in the fray to assault it. Assurances, Jinrui wasn't able or willing to provide. True, he had no intention of defying the Prime and initiating a direct attack on the Leaf with the forces at his disposal. But Konoha couldn't know that. So they panicked and made terrible decisions.

Their ballooning fears had surely led them to believe it was only a matter of time before Jinuri landed his forces on their shores. Perhaps by now, the Hokage had authorised a hunter-killer squad to neuter the perceived threat.

Jinrui wasn't certain what form Konoha's assault would take; the village was wizening up to his tactics faster than usual. Gathering information on them was growing evermore challenging. Regardless, he awaited their arrival patiently.

Hence, when he sensed the simultaneous attacks on his main ports, he wasn't particularly surprised. Slowly, his gaze panned to regard Inari who sat in meditation beside him.

"It's time," he said as he smiled at the boy. "Let's bloody that bland soul of yours, shall we? Give it some character!"

"...Yes, Father," the boy said after a moment of contemplation.

***

Tobirama hated this.

He stood with Mito-sama, Tsunade and Ibiki by his side as Guy undid the prisoner's bindings. Kage wore a faint smile as the straitjacket suppressing her came loose. The accursed Uchiha had sent another message warning Konoha of the consequences in store should they refuse to release his lackey. Tsunade panicked and now appears to be making another foolish decision.

Initially, Tobirama had been able to argue against the verdict to free the woman. But when the squads sent to the Land of Waves never returned or reported back, and the situation at the fronts continued to deteriorate, the prospect of inviting another attack on the village began to seem unwise. Yet, he could argue that such a show of weakness was even more unwise. Tsunade and Mito both feared the Uchiha would make good on his promise to hasten their destruction should they choose not to concede to his demands. Foolish, surely, but what could he do?

Kage began to stretch her limbs as she waited for the suppressive effects that hindered her chakra to wear off. Tobirama's scowl grew. The flailing of her arms annoyed him.

Suddenly, the woman focused her gaze on Ibiki. "Once the Senjus and their accomplices are dead," she said, "and Sasuke grows bored with this war of his, come work for me. I found many of your methods intriguing and would like to study them in more detail."

A vein popped on Tsunade's forehead whilst Ibiki's expression turned decidedly uncomfortable. Lady Mito however seemed unfazed. "I still believe we can return to the negotiation table," the old woman said. "This level of wanton destruction is very much unneeded. Surely, you must know this."

In response, the vile woman simply shrugged. "I will pass the message along," were her parting words as she turned to leave

"I am sure you are well aware by now that that's not my decision to make."

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