In the Land of Whirlpools, at the eastern coastal marketplace, night fell and lanterns flickered to life one by one along the streets.
Inside an izakaya with the sign “Flowers in the Mist,” what should have been the liveliest hour of the evening felt strangely hollow—only a single room was occupied, the rest cleared out.
Representatives of the Shinobi Clan Alliance sat around a long table, sake bottles and small dishes laid out before them.
“Have you heard?”
A middle-aged man with flushed cheeks lowered his voice.
“The Fourth Mizukage has sent people.”
“Who?” someone asked.
“Kisame Hoshigaki.
And he’s carrying Samehada.”
“What’s he here for?”
“Officially?
They’re saying there are doubts about whether Leader Terumi Mei’s eye is Kotoamatsukami.
Until it’s confirmed, for the safety of the Hidden Mist, she’s not allowed to return to the Land of Water.
Kisame’s here to ‘supervise.’ If she tries to force her way back… she’ll be executed on the spot.
The order even has the Daimyō’s approval.
After all, Samehada is the ultimate counter to chakra users—its ability is practically comparable to a Mangekyō Sharingan.”
“Hmph.
Sounds nice when you put it that way.”
A thin man sitting in the corner curled his lip.
“That’s not all I’ve heard.”
All eyes turned toward him.
He took a sip of sake before continuing.
“On the surface, they sent Kisame.
But in the shadows?
Zabuza Momochi, Raiga Kurosuki, and even the Mizukage’s personal ANBU are here too.”
“Seriously?”
“Of course.
Mangekyō Sharingan… who wouldn’t want it?
Think about it—being able to make someone serve you forever…”
His gaze swept across the room, carrying a meaning no one could ignore.
“Look at our Leader Mei.
When has she ever shown anyone special favor?
And now?
She practically lives at Uchiha Fugaku’s place, attending to him day and night…”
The room fell silent.
Only the bubbling of the hot pot over the stove broke the stillness.
Everyone exchanged subtle glances, but no one spoke.
“…Then what does Mangetsu Hozuki think?” someone finally asked in a low voice.
“What else?
Same as always.
He doesn’t believe it—says someone’s stirring trouble, trying to break the alliance.”
“Still too young… too idealistic.”
“The Hōzuki clan only has the two brothers left.
The younger one’s just a kid.
We can’t rely on them…”
“Oh, right.
I heard that over in Konoha, the negotiator Homura Mitokado summoned troops the moment he reached the west coast.”
“What?
Konoha wants war?”
“Not exactly.
The troops haven’t landed.
He claims it’s just to ‘maintain order’ given the chaos on the island.
But let’s be honest—they’re scared of Kotoamatsukami.
Wouldn’t you be?
Being controlled without even realizing it… living your whole life as someone else’s puppet…”
“…Who wouldn’t be afraid?”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone…”
“Enough.”
A cool, clear female voice cut through the noise.
All eyes turned.
It was the clan leader of the Yuki clan, Mizuki Yuki—her pale skin almost translucent under the lantern light as she sat by the window.
“Let’s return to the real issue,” she said calmly.
“Leader Mei has summoned us for tomorrow to address the rumors.
What do you all think?”
Silence.
No one answered.
Who would dare go?
What if the rumors were true?
What if they were controlled?
After a long while, the room emptied.
Only she remained.
Sitting alone, she poured herself a cup of sake—but didn’t drink.
Instead, she stared at the rippling surface.
The Yuki clan had always been small.
Even at its peak, it barely had more than twenty members.
During the harshest years of the Blood Mist policy, her younger sister, overwhelmed by fear and despair, fled the village.
She had never been heard from again.
The clan withered, teetering on the brink of disappearing entirely.
Then came Terumi Mei.
Like a beam of sunlight cutting through dense fog.
She rose with unstoppable force, united the clans, and stood against the Mizukage’s tyranny—giving small clans like theirs a chance to breathe… even a chance to survive.
The Yuki clan still existed today because of her.
And now?
That same woman—her benefactor, the future hope of the Hidden Mist—was trapped in rumors of being controlled.
Mangetsu Hozuki didn’t believe it, yes—but belief alone meant nothing.
He hadn’t taken any real action to clarify the truth or protect her.
And the so-called allies…
Some didn’t care whether Mei was controlled or not—as long as their own interests remained intact, or better yet, if they could profit from it.
Some were already tempted—secretly wondering how they might get their hands on that Mangekyō Sharingan.
And the rest?
They were waiting.
Waiting to see which way the wind would blow.
Then they’d follow.
Because in the end—
Whoever wins… they follow.
Some people didn’t care in the slightest whether Terumi Mei was being controlled.
As long as their own clan interests remained intact—or better yet, if they could profit from it—they couldn’t care less who the leader was, or whether that leader was nothing more than a puppet.
Others had already been tempted.
In the shadows, they were likely plotting how to get a piece of the prize—how to join the scramble for that so-called Mangekyō Sharingan.
And the rest weren’t any better.
They simply stayed silent, watching from the sidelines, waiting for the situation to become clear before deciding which side to stand on.
Wallflowers.
Opportunists.
They had all forgotten.
Forgotten who it was that allowed their clans to survive—who made it possible for them to sit here, drinking and discussing利益 like this.
A cold fury, mixed with deep sorrow, burned within Mizuki Yuki’s chest.
And then—
A thought took shape.
Assassinate Uchiha Fugaku.
She knew it was impulsive.
The idea had come to her in a flash.
But that was the tragedy of a small clan.
She only had one card to play.
So the question was—
Play it… or not?
Besides, if the caster died, then even if the genjutsu couldn’t be directly undone, Terumi Mei would lose the one she was “loyal” to.
In a sense… she would be free.
As for how to kill him—
A direct confrontation was impossible.
With her strength, she probably couldn’t even touch the hem of his clothes.
But…
She lowered her head and glanced at herself.
Good.
She couldn’t even see the sake cup.
That meant—
Her body was more than enough.
It was said that Uchiha Fugaku was extremely lustful.
If so, seduction—combined with the Yuki clan’s bloodline technique—might be the simplest…
…and only way to get close.
…
The same abandoned courtyard.
The same underground basement.
Ever since overhearing the secret of “Kotoamatsukami” a few days ago, Obito had barely left this place, monitoring Fugaku’s residence day and night.
With half his body composed of White Zetsu cells, he didn’t need sleep like ordinary people.
But mental fatigue—and a constant, nagging irritation—refused to go away.
Especially at night.
The rhythmic creaking of tatami mats transmitted through White Zetsu’s spore surveillance made his skin crawl with inexplicable annoyance.
Still, he didn’t curse.
Because from the fragments of overheard conversation, he had learned that this… seemed to be some bizarre process of “charging” Kotoamatsukami—a fusion of Fugaku’s life force and Mei’s immense chakra.
“The Uchiha clan really does have all kinds of absurd abilities…”
Just then—
The White Zetsu lying flat against the ground suddenly stirred.
Knock, knock, knock.
A voice followed—cool, pleasant, but carrying a faint trace of tension.
“Excuse me… is Clan Head Fugaku home?”
Obito’s eyes sharpened instantly.
He recognized the voice.
The Yuki clan leader—Mizuki Yuki.
A woman whose beauty and presence rivaled even Mei’s.
After all, the Yuki clan was famous in the Hidden Mist for their looks.
The door opened.
Soft footsteps in slippers.
“Clan Head Yuki?
It’s quite late.
What brings you here?”
That was Uchiha Mikoto’s gentle voice.
“My apologies, Lady Mikoto.
I have something confidential to discuss with Lord Fugaku—alone.
It’s urgent.”
Her voice was low.
“He’s in the basement organizing information.
I’ll take you there.”
Footsteps again.
Descending.
Then the old wooden door creaked open.
A brief silence.
Then—
The faint sound of fabric sliding against skin.
Obito: “???”
And then—
Mizuki’s voice, once cold, now softened—deliberately so, even trembling slightly.
“Lord Fugaku… I wish to stay by your side… like Leader Mei… to serve you…”
Her voice grew quieter and quieter, until it was almost inaudible.
“Have all these women lost their minds?”
Obito tilted his head, feeling his worldview take a direct hit.
Was one Mei not enough?
What kind of charm did this man even have?
“Mm—!”
A muffled grunt suddenly came through White Zetsu.
Not Fugaku’s.
More like Mizuki’s.
“Ah—!!”
A cry of pain.
A dull thud—like a body hitting a wall.
A fight!
But it ended almost instantly.
“What happened, Fugaku?”
“I sensed killing intent.”
Fugaku’s voice turned cold.
“Seems she intended to use a close-range bloodline technique.
Call Mei.”
Footsteps rushed away.
Soon, another set of hurried steps approached.
“Fugaku?
Mizuki?”
Mei sounded surprised.
“She tried to kill me,” Fugaku said flatly.
“A bloodline technique, it seems.”
“The Yuki clan’s secret art—Ice Release: Blood Freeze Technique,” Mei explained.
“A technique Mizuki developed.
If she grabs both of the opponent’s hands, she can instantly freeze their blood.”
“Impressive…”
Fugaku’s praise was indifferent.
“Perfect.
Use ‘Kotoamatsukami’ on her.
Let’s test your current control and consumption.
It’ll save us future trouble.”
A brief pause.
Then—
“Mizuki.
Look into my eyes…”
Mei’s voice rang out.
“Kotoamatsukami.
From this moment on, you will be eternally loyal to Fugaku—serve him as your master, until death.”
Silence.
A few seconds later—
Mizuki’s voice returned.
But it was completely different.
Obedient.
Devout.
“Yes… I will forever be loyal to Lord Fugaku.
My life, my will… all belong to you.”
“How does it feel?” Fugaku asked.
“The consumption is lower than expected,” Mei replied, her voice tinged with relief—and excitement.
“Combining my chakra with your life force… I can use it about once per hour.
But no more than four times a day, or it will strain me—and possibly damage the eye.”
“Once per hour, four times a day… more than enough.”
Fugaku’s tone carried satisfaction.
“If we stall negotiations with Konoha for three or four days… that’s enough time to turn every wavering or scheming member of the clan alliance into our people.”
He paused.
Then laughed.
Loud, arrogant, brimming with ambition.
“Hahahahaha!
By then… every ninja clan in the Hidden Mist will be under my control!!”
In the shadows, Obito Uchiha and Black Zetsu’s expressions turned grim.
“What do we do?
Once per hour… this rate is insane.
If this continues, in just a few days, the entire Hidden Mist alliance will belong to the Uchiha!”
Black Zetsu fell silent for a moment before slowly sinking into the ground.
“Tomorrow, during negotiations, we strike.
Interrupt his control.”
“I’ll inform the clan alliance—ignite their fear and hostility, make them unite.”
“You notify the Fourth Mizukage’s forces—Kisame Hoshigaki, Zabuza Momochi, the rest.
Tell them Fugaku is using Kotoamatsukami to seize control.”
“Have them act tomorrow.
Under the pretext of eliminating a threat, seize the eye.”
“And you—cause chaos.
Kill a few people at the right moment.
Once fighting starts… once blood is spilled…”
“No one will be able to stop it.”
Black Zetsu’s tone was filled with confidence.
After all—
In its thousand years of existence, it had seen it countless times.
Humans…
Rarely stay rational.
Back in Fugaku’s basement, the laughter stopped.
He set aside the notebook in his hand.
Every page was filled with dense writing.
[Surveillance ongoing.]
[Next dialogue: Mei asks about condition.
You reply: once per hour, no more than four times a day.]
[You state: sufficient, delay negotiations, control the clans…]
And much more.
Page after page.
Clearly, this wasn’t their first time.
“They’ve left.”
“The surveillance ended?”
“Mm.
They took the bait.
They’re preparing to act.”
Fugaku nodded, then looked at Mizuki.
“Thank you for your hard work, Clan Head Mizuki.”
She let out a long breath, her cold demeanor returning—tinged now with a hint of charm.
Then she turned to Mei.
“There was no control… no Sharingan… those are still your own eyes.
The eyepatch these past days… was all fake?”
“Fufufu, Mizuki… I’m glad you came.
But trying to steal my husband?
That I don’t like.”
“Leader Mei!”
“Haha…”
Mei pulled her into a hug.
Truthfully, she had expected the others to waver.
Most were opportunists—whoever won, they’d follow.
But it still hurt.
Thankfully—
There was at least one-Mizuki.
“Long story short,” Mei said, her tone turning serious, “the one controlling the Fourth Mizukage is on this island.
He’s been spying on Fugaku.
Even the rumors about me… were spread by him.”
“So Fugaku played along—used a nonexistent ‘Kotoamatsukami’ as bait…”
“…to lure him out.”
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