SFF: 081 - Shinobi Wars

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

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 they were outnumbered, in many battles, twelve to one. Each passing hour saw more enemy troops pouring across the border, 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 completely. Stalling the rate at which Konoha’s borders shrank was just as important as destroying the pockets of enemy forces he stumbled upon.

Defence in depth was the Leaf’s current wartime strategy, with each successive layer aiming to prove more troublesome to overcome than the last. However, for that to work, Konoha 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; and 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.

Anyone who attempted to penetrate this barrier would find themselves at risk of dying painful deaths. 

However, the Senju knew his methods were not invincible. Eventually, this forest would be cut, burned down, or simply erased like the dozen before it. Such was the way of war. All he could hope for was that the days spent clearing this blockade and the other like it bestowed his allies closer to the heartlands more time to entrench themselves deeper in preparation for a valiant last 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 very common occurrence.

Despite their rarity, historical texts from before the time of the Rabbit Goddess still existed in some secluded monasteries scattered 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 and tradition populated the realm and looked down on shinobi as honourless dogs that struck from the shadows. Castles then 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 innate strength greater than his fellow man could inspire hundreds to die and fight in his name; wielding the same influence as the mighty, god-like Kages. 

Those days were long gone; numbers scarcely mattered in wars today. A single man alone can halt the advance of an entire nation.

Ōnoki stared at the expansive forest of death that stood smack dab in the centre of one of his forces’ main logistics routes. Like a clump of fat in an artery, it clogged the flow of supplies and impeded Iwagakure’s advance. 

The first Hokage was a pestiferous foe, one Ōnoki still dared not meet in battle. This game of cat and mouse they had been playing was starting to irk the Tsuchikage. Yet he knew it ultimately served Iwa’s interests on the battlefield.

As much as he would like to face the revered 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 his people. The only thing he could do to salve his ego was undo the Hokage’s efforts on the battlefield. 

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

蛇

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 the forest and was nearly 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 its shores.

Alas, the Leaf’s desperation only grew, its stench ever more 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. Truly, 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.

Their ballooning fears had surely led them to believe it was only a matter of time before the Ego landed his forces on their shores. 

Perhaps by now, A hunter-killer squad sent to neuter the perceived threat had bypassed the blockade and landed on one of Wave's beaches. 

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 country's 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!”

The boy nodded obediently.

“...Yes, Father.”

***

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. The choice to decide what to do with the criminal had simply been taken away from them.

Initially, Tobirama had been able to argue against the decision 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 very unwise.

If anything, the fact that the Uchiha had shown time and time again that he was willing to abide by his words gave Tobirama’s arguments significantly less weight. Tsunade and Mito both feared Sasuke would make good on his promise to hasten their destruction and believed it prudent to concede to the enemy. 

Tobirama’s scowl grew as Kage began to stretch her limbs as she waited for the suppressive effects that hindered her chakra to wear off. 

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

Might Guy frowned. A vein popped on Tsunade’s forehead whilst Ibiki’s expression turned decidedly uncomfortable. Lady Mito however seemed unfazed by the insinuation. 

“I believe we can still negotiate a peace,” the old woman said. “This level of wanton destruction and suffering is very much unneeded.”   

In response, the vile woman simply shrugged. “I will pass the message along,” were her parting words before she disappeared via Hiraishin, her words echoing in her wake. 

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