Land of Fire — Daimyō’s Palace Inside the grand reception room, two figures sat across from one another at a low table atop luxurious golden tatami mats.
Between them rested a brand-new shogi board.
At a glance, the outcome of the game was already apparent.
The side controlling the Jade General had been driven into a desperate corner.
Surrounded on every side…
The lone king stood on the brink of defeat.
It was clearly a match between players of unequal skill.
Their appearances and ages were equally mismatched.
According to long-standing custom…
When an elder played against a younger opponent, the younger player used the King General (Ōshō) and moved first, while the elder played with the Jade General (Gyokushō) and moved second.
Yet today…
The arrangement was completely reversed.
The player holding the Jade General was a gloomy middle-aged man.
The one commanding the King General…
Was a refined young noble.
The youth reclined comfortably on the tatami with his legs crossed.
His head rested upon the lap of a kneeling maid behind him.
One hand lazily drummed against his knee as he looked down upon the board with a relaxed smile.
Several beautiful attendants stood nearby, gently fanning him.
Across from him…
The other man’s back remained perfectly straight.
Like an ancient pine tree.
Expressionless.
His attention never left the board.
His concentration was so complete that even his breathing was nearly imperceptible.
Yet both players moved without hesitation.
Piece after piece shifted across the board.
Each knew every position by heart.
Within the room…
Only the quiet clicking of shogi pieces could be heard.
Defense.
Sacrifice.
Feints.
Entrapment.
Click.
The young noble placed his final piece.
“Will you keep making room for your Jade General to retreat?” “Or continue sacrificing pieces to delay the inevitable?” He partially covered his face with a folding fan.
His eyes curved into a smile.
“Elder Danzō.” “You’ve already lost.” Danzō showed no reaction.
His gaze remained fixed upon the board.
Only after a long silence did he slowly raise his head.
“The game isn’t over yet.” “Why does Your Highness believe I’ve already lost?” A flicker of dissatisfaction crossed the young Daimyō’s eyes.
It vanished almost immediately.
His smiling expression returned.
“During the middle game…” “You managed to establish two advanced pawns.” “They gave you tremendous control over the battlefield.” “So…” “You focused everything on those pawns.” “But if I were you…” “I would’ve used them as bait.” “Or abandoned one entirely.” “Leaving only a single pawn to break into enemy territory.” “Supported by the rest of my pieces…” “It would’ve forced checkmate.” Closing his fan, the young Daimyō spoke meaningfully.
“You couldn’t let go.” “You couldn’t sacrifice.” “That’s why you lost.” “Broaden your perspective, Elder Danzō.” “Only then will you see farther.” Danzō narrowed his eyes.
He was about to respond…
When the young noble interrupted him once more.
“You wanted to tear down one wall to patch another.” “Hoping to drag the game out until I made a mistake.” He slowly waved the folding fan.
“Sometimes…” “It’s better to admit defeat.” “Don’t become so obsessed with winning and losing.” Danzō naturally understood the hidden meaning behind those words.
A reminder.
And a warning.
In the end…
He swallowed the words he had intended to say.
“…Indeed.” Lowering his head once more…
He carefully memorized the final arrangement before returning every piece to its original position.
Then he sighed.
“Your Highness’s shogi has grown even more exquisite.” “My every move was within your expectations.” “Oh?” The young Daimyō laughed proudly.
“I fell in love with shogi when I was only three.” “At that age…” “My older brothers were still playing tea parties and make-believe.” “So…” “My only opponent was Father.” “And later…” “Well…” He shrugged playfully.
“…here we are.” Shogi…
Was one of the very few talents in which he took genuine pride.
Then…
His smile slowly faded.
“But…” “A game is only a game.” “As long as one excels at calculation…” “And understands human nature…” “Victory isn’t difficult.” “What a pity…” “The shinobi world isn’t a shogi board.” “If I had to command armies in real war…” “I would suffer a crushing defeat.” He made no attempt to hide his shortcomings.
There was no need in front of Danzō.
His strengths lay in politics.
Not combat.
He was better suited to moving pieces…
Than becoming one.
Danzō, on the other hand…
Was politically crude.
Yet he made for an exceptionally sharp blade.
One capable of piercing directly into an enemy’s heart.
For Konoha…
He would sacrifice everything.
Even if his own family betrayed the village…
He would show no mercy.
He regarded others as tools.
He regarded himself as a tool.
His own reputation meant nothing.
The young Daimyō of the Land of Fire understood Danzō rather well.
Perhaps…
Danzō still regretted that day.
The brief hesitation…
When Tobirama had asked who would act as decoy.
Only a single moment of hesitation…
Had cost him the position of Hokage forever.
The ruthless decisiveness Danzō displayed today…
Was his way of proving himself.
As though telling Tobirama— “You chose Hiruzen…” “But you chose wrong.” Because what Danzō treasured most…
Was never Tobirama himself.
Nor any individual.
It had always been…
Konoha.
He might hesitate before sacrificing himself for a comrade.
But if sacrificing everything—including himself—would protect the village…
He would never waver.
“So…” “What does Your Highness require of me today?” Danzō asked directly.
“Yes…” “And no.” The young Daimyō nodded.
Then shook his head.
After covering his face with his fan once more, he smiled.
“Because…” “It’s something you already intended to do.” “War is coming.” “I want you…” “…to ensure the battlefield remains outside the Land of Fire.” “You mean…” “The Land of Rain.” A coldness entirely unfitting his youthful appearance entered his eyes.
“If they’re arrogant enough to resist…” “Then drag the flames of war entirely into the Land of Rain.” “Cripple them.” “Break them.” Hanzo’s rise…
And the growing defiance of the Land of Rain…
Had begun making him uneasy.
Especially after hearing that even the Daimyō of the Land of Rain was gradually siding with Hanzo.
Among the nobility of the shinobi world…
An unspoken understanding had always existed.
When the number of shinobi grew too great…
Wars conveniently erupted.
Maintaining the balance…
Protected noble rule.
If not for its usefulness as a buffer state…
The Land of Rain would have ceased existing long ago.
How could one tolerate another sleeping peacefully beside one’s own bed?
The Land of Rain had become too restless.
It disturbed his sleep.
It had to be beaten down.
Reduced.
Weakened.
Just like the Land of Grass.
A nation that obediently bent whichever way the wind blew.
“I understand.” Danzō narrowed his eyes.
“I’ll make the Land of Rain…” “…the common enemy of every Great Nation.” “And regarding Kumogakure…” “Your Highness needn’t worry.” “Orochimaru has already departed.” “They’ll soon have problems of their own.” Orochimaru…
Could he truly keep Kumogakure occupied?
The young Daimyō briefly recalled the pale, snake-like shinobi.
He casually nodded.
After all…
How many lives would ultimately be lost because of one simple sentence from him…
Was of no concern.
In the shinobi world…
Human life was the cheapest commodity.
Even shinobi…
Were little more than expendable tools.
“Oh.” “That reminds me.” The young Daimyō casually waved his fan.
“A new organization has recently appeared in the Land of Rain.” “It seems to have been founded by a group of commoners.” “Hardly worth paying attention to…” “But I’ve already dispatched some of my people.” “You may—” Crash.
“Y-Your Highness!” Before he could finish…
A servant suddenly burst into the room.
His face was deathly pale.
His body trembled violently.
Clutched in his hands…
Was a brightly wrapped gift box tied with colorful ribbons.
“…” The interruption clearly displeased the young Daimyō.
He frowned.
His eyes moved from the box…
To the terrified servant.
“You’d better have an excellent explanation.” “Y-Your Highness…” “The people you sent…” The servant’s entire body shook.
His hands slipped.
The gift box fell to the floor.
Crack.
Something inside shifted with a nauseating sound.
Then came another.
A soft…
Wet…
Hissing noise.
Silence engulfed the room.
Thick black blood slowly seeped from the broken box.
It crept across the expensive carpet…
Until it reached Danzō’s feet.
The elegant fragrance that had once filled the chamber…
Was gradually replaced…
By the overwhelming stench of fresh blood.
Then…
A human head rolled slowly from the shattered box.
Its lifeless eyes remained wide open.
Reflecting only one thing— The young Daimyō’s face…
Frozen between horror…
And disbelief.
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