Therre was no announcement. No declaration. Not any huge skirmish.

All there was the morning sun, piercing the cloud with rays of pink, violet, its golden rays illuminating a still barracks near the north-western borders of the Land of Fire.

The corpses of two jounin and six chunin lay motionless as sunlight crept upon them, wind ruffling the long grass which grew alongside Grass Country's borders.

The morning hawk flew back without a check-in from the stationed commander, and then Konoha knew.

The Third Shinobi War had begun.

"And it was such a fine day, perfect for writing." Jiraya lamented. He had travelled far and wide, and would explore further unchartered lands still, but autumn in Konoha was a marvel like no other.

The gold, orange and yellow leaves cluttered the streets as clouds drifted slowly, promising rains which would cool the land and usher in winter. The green hills surrounding the blue Naka river flowing through the village and its subsequent tributaries became heavenly picnic spots amidst the decreasing heat.

The Uchiha would paint their shrines anew in red and white, keeping their compound streets obsessively clean of leaves in a way no other clan, except perhaps the Hyuga, cared about. During fall would also be when their rival Dojutsu clan would brand seals to the branch family children. Not a bright thought, though Jiraya might make a pun about the fall of branch family coming around during fall.

Not that it would dislodge whatever golden stick was up their traditional asses.

Of the Inuzuka, there was a certain breed of theirs which went into heat only during this time of the year, once a year. Jiraya did not bother to learn exactly what, for a secret not known was a secret best kept. Same for the Aburame, who held some sort of ritual during this season, restricted to the clan members except the Hokage and his chief of staff for obvious reasons.

The Nara would cut down some trees to allow sunlight to filter through Nara Clan Forest, thinning as they called it, while some selected individuals, regardless of rank or civilian status may be given the privilege to visit the forest, as Jiraya knew Orochimaru had been years back for internships with the pharmaceutical branch for a month, enhancing their chances to get into Konoha's Research and Development Institute.

The Toad Sage had heard about the up and coming Yamanaka clan head, Inoichi, opening up a flower shop alongside his wife. And their clan symbol was a bush clover which bloomed only in Autumn, signifying "positive love".

The Akimichi would also begin ordering fish imports, and those delicacies the Sannin would also have to forgo, considering he'd be anywhere but in Konoha at the time in winter. Jiraya sighed, huge shoulders hunching. "Fate is cruel, is it not?"

And yet, amongst all this musing, about the scenery and food and development which captivated the Sage.

No, it was hope. Hope that spring was on its no matter how far.

The leaves fallen would nourish the roots and give sustenance to the tree, allowing it to weather the cold and the snow, paving the way for a new growth, the next generation. Much in the same way as a Shinobi of Konoha.

"Maybe I do have too many tree-related analogies..." Jiraya murmured to himself, the notebook in front of him abandoned quite some time before. He sensed the ANBU as he or she entered into his range, waited a couple of seconds for them to make their presence known with a rustle of feet.

"Tiger! Long time no see!" Jiraya announced without even looking and then turned around, striking a totally awesome pose. The ANBU was so struck by its magnificence that he was stilled. The Sannin laughed boisterously, folding his arms. "Sure you didn't think you'd get by the great Jiraya, Sage of Mount Myoboku! did you?"

"Jiraya-sama, it's time." The flat tone made Jiraya glad he'd never signed up to be an ANBU. No class, no flair.

He sighed dramatically. "Okay, okay, Imma coming." With a stealth and speed that belied his huge size – he had more than one foot on the ANBU agent, he noted, - the Sannin made his way to the Hokage office, sprinted up its side without anyone being the wiser and somersaulted towards the window behind the desk.

"The Great Jiraya has-" Arrived. He finished mentally, having smacked into the crystal clear glass window, sliding down with his face and hands squeaking against it. Sarutobi Hiruzen watched his student, nonplussed, before turning around as it there wasn't a six-foot tall shinobi pressed on the window behind him.

His other students walked into his office at that moment, catching sight of their teammate, before turning to each other as if to say 'Not my problem.'

"Oi, Sensei! SENSEI! OPEN THIS WINDOW!"

"Tsunade," The Sandaime stated in lieu of an answer and the blonde marched forward, vein throbbing on her forehead as she pushed the window open. There was a slight problem though; she had swung it outwards, smacking her teammate off the building.

Sarutobi's eye twitched as a dramatic wail followed.

Orochimaru moved without prompting and stuck his arm out, a brown boa constrictor appearing out of his sleeve, longer than it had any right to be. It caught his idiot of a teammate, before pulling up and depositing him on the office floor. The snake gave one last squeeze, as if relaying its master's irritation, before disappearing back up his sleeve.

"Children," Sandaime intoned before any of them broke out bickering. In a flash the three stood in front of him, as if the last few minutes had never happened, faces sober. "It has begun."

Hiruzen gestured towards the map on his desk. With a one-handed seal various thumb-tacks were revealed on it. "Somewhere between 0100 to 0300, the outposts NW15, NW18 have been destroyed, as well as SW1 and SW2, designated red. Various others were skirmished and harassed at various times, designated yellow. NW24 only remained intact due to your intel, Jiraya." North-West and South-West posts.

They knew it was coming, but even still Jiraya felt a lead weight in his stomach. Looking at the pins, he blinked. Three countries acted as a buffer between the Land of Fire and the Land of Stone, Rain to the left, Grass in the middle, and finally Waterfall to the right. In the West was The Land of Wind.

Just then a chunin burst in, juggling half a dozen scrolls. "Reports from the borders, Hokage-sama!"

"Orochimaru, Tsunade, your orders." The old man tossed two of the crimson scrolls from his desk to his students, both of which vanished at once. "Jiraya, help me with those reports. You, good work. Dismissed." The chunin bowed and left.

Jiraya pulled up a seat and began going through the freshly arrived scrolls with his teacher, mind whirring with the facts.

The Fence-Sitter was a wily old coot, but he couldn't have allied and coordinated a strike that covered left-hand side of Konoha, especially with the villages in between. According to his sources small battles and scuffles were breaking out with the smaller villages, escalating with time but none of those who had shown any friendliness towards the Five Great Nations.

Hanzo wanted out of this war, but the Sannin had reports that he was focused more on building a Hidden Village than a proper country. Rain had only four provinces, all with their own Daimyo. And all of them were under the Salamander Summoner's thumb. And so he had suspected that he would give Iwa passage to Konoha, for mineral trades such as marble and gypsum.

Grass was not a big surprise, but what was surprising was that the reports stated it was Kusa-nin themselves who attacked the outpost, some of their notable elite, referenced in the Bingo Book. The only one who had survived from there, NW18, and had written the report was Uchiha Naori.

"Chunin?" Jiraya muttered to himself, reading the details of the battle. Had eliminated two B-Rank enemies, escaped from an A-Rank one, and...

Unable to save any comrade. Destroyed all documents with oil and Fireball combination before retreating.

She was nineteen years old. Impressive for a chunin.

What was bothersome was Waterfall. Their own shinobi had raided the outpost NW15. They had the Seven-Tails, and he had sources saying it was leading the Daimyo, Mizuki, to have a jingoistic rhetoric. Even if they didn't know how to use it, it's mere presence was a catastrophe waiting to happen.

They couldn't face that outright.

"Sensei, about Takigakure-"

"Orochimaru."

"The Daimyo or their Jinchuuriki?"

"Both if he can manage it. We need that buffer against lightning."

Jiraya betrayed no emotion on his face. Relieved that he didn't have to be the one to assassinate a leader behind enemy lines and then escape, and sick that it had to be done in the first place. Tsunade was no doubt going to be needed against Suna, along with the platoon of their poison specialists. Their Puppet Corps had come up with some fucked up poisons in the last war only she could treat.

"I'll head towards Grass, and then Rain." Jiraya wrapped up the last of scrolls and stood. The weary Hokage tossed him crimson scroll, his objectives.

"In a week they should rendezvous with you at the marked location."

"Roger, Sensei. Oh, and I give my recommendation for Uchiha Naori to be promoted to jounin." Jiraya added. "Well, you know, places to be, people to meet, yada yada. See you, Sensei."

"Careful Jiraya, and good luck."

"Luck? The Sage of Mount-"

"Get out of my office." Hiruzen cut across his student's theatrics and lit his pipe.

Jiraya grinned, striking a pose, his hands pulling an imaginary bow taught. "Aha, your office, never mine! Enjoy yourself sensei!" He pulled down his eyes and blew a raspberry, disappearing in a puff of smoke.

Seconds later the Sannin could be heard sprinting down the sides of the tower.

The Sandaime reclined in his chair, cracking a small smile at the display. And the fact that paperwork had been low for him, since he'd restarted his training a month ago. You didn't let your best weapon lie and gather rust after all, admittedly a very old weapon.


Hoshi should not have expected a neutral country to be actually neutral. Neutral meant letting Iwagakure use your routes to invade into Konoha, in return for imports and access to their mineral reserves.

After settling their debts in the main village, they had followed Yahiko's and moved out from the village. Drifting away from the main land occupied by Amegakure, down the streams of the great river whose name Hoshi didn't know but just called it 'Fiver' due to the number of tributaries it had, were other small villages. They were small settlements with barely around fifty or so people to a population, and made the around two thousand people in the main village seem gigantic.

"Outside of this place are plenty of smaller villages that need our help and protection. I know of one, and its high time we go somewhere we can operate in the open." Yahiko had said.

"What's your long term plan?" Hoshi asked then, wondering as they ran along a river together.

"We'll work hard as hell and show people that poverty and pretty promises are not the destiny of this eternally weeping nation," Yahiko intoned. "We'll make them aware that lives led in continuously in fear are not worth living. We already have a small reputation as a handy bunch of kids during the day, and I've noticed quite a few rumors spread after we started our nightly operations. People are gaining hope, Hoshi. As much it grates my nerves though, they think of us as shinobi under Hanzo. And since it's beneficial to his reputation, I doubt we'd be removed.

"What we need is combat experience. We can gain that more easily by staying in another smaller village not very far from here. They experience a higher ratio of raids and attacks, from our own as well as foreign shinobi. Once we have enough power to level the playing field, alongside numbers, we can set up a negotiation with Hanzo."

"You're actually thinking about him?" Hoshi had paused.

"Well, you spend day and night worrying about how to rule Ame, how can I not?" Yahiko deadpanned. "Besides, I'm going to start assigning you missions from now on. That way you can't complain, much anyway."

Hoshi had smirked, and simply accepted the conditions. Yahiko's style was to lead from the front, and eventually he'd have to get used to idea of sending people forward on their own to complete objectives they might fail, or lose their lives trying to accomplish.

"Well, there's a war on the horizon. Why are you changing your mind now?" It was an old argument, Hoshi trying to run their small group like a tactical unit whereas Yahiko trying to pass them all off as his friends. Though he tried to lead them, he was young and would prefer to responsibilities be shared rather than clearly defined as the white-haired boy wanted.

Now though, it seemed that had changed.

"Gathering information about it is your first mission. We need to know what's happening with the rumors going around that we've allied with Iwa, we've allied with Kusa, that Konoha is going to help us with aid if we attack Iwa ourselves. I'll take the other two to the village I talked about. It's been marked on the map." The taller boy tossed a slim scroll to his friend, who unrolled their self-made map and glanced at it, memorizing the co-ordinates.

"Got it. Time limit? Any certain objectives?" Hoshi asked, counting the scrolls in the pouch strapped above his hips. All were accounted for.

"Konan got wind of some 'allies' coming along from the western side of the country, hearing the complaints from some merchants in Central about how a foreigner had hitched a ride with them to meet Hanzo and couldn't be persuaded to leave. You have three- no, five days. Konan also finished cooking those ration bars."

Hoshi blinked at that, before smirking. "She did? You're gonna be one lucky man someday."

"O-oi! What do you mean?!"

And Hoshi had not answered, instead getting a pack of self-made ration bars. Crushed white oats, mixed with powdered eggshells and plenty of sugar. Konan boiled water with gelatin, before adding the solid mixture to it. When it cooled off, it formed a solid, chewy mix that was packed with thousands of calories.

The less said about the taste the better. Hoshi grinned at her accomplishment, before sealing ten bars for his mission. Two a day would be enough, with a size of five by three inches and one-inch thick (Konan had measured).

"If not, you can have the feedback to improve their proportions. Good luck Hoshi-jiji." She had smiled, blinking innocently.

"Ha ha, you're so funny." Hoshi clipped.

And then she handed him her spyglass she'd stolen from God-knows-where, telling him to not get a scratch on it. Considering it had a hydrophobic lens, Hoshi was bound to agree.

Exchanging good boys and reaching up to pat Nagato's head, he gave them a thumbs up. "By your leave, Yahiko-taicho."

"Tch. Stay safe." Yahiko grumbled. Hoshi nodded as a fork came up the river.

He'd split off from them then and there, knowing that the target would be Konoha and factoring in the multiple routes that led into it. Since his task was finding shinobi, that meant the difficulty of passage was irrelevant, they'd pick the most efficient path. That meant heading east and camping there, setting up his own patrol while dodging the Rain patrols.

Grey fatigues helped camouflage him against the slate hills where nothing grew and he wore an Ame headband. His chakra was undetectable, except to Nagato, but Hoshi doubted any other shinobi could come as close as the possible-Uzumaki in his sensory abilities. He had also donned a wig of light brown hair. It was made from real hair, bought off a woman by paying her with much needed food at a discount, and then Konan had done her magic with crafts as she did and viola. With a breather masking most of his face, Hoshi was set.

Hoshi's own sensing allowed him range, meaning he picked up shinobi presences but couldn't deduce their levels or, like Nagato could, their primary elemental affinities. So while that meant he could camp just a mile away from Ame ninjas, close enough to make out their snorkel-like face-gear, he wouldn't be able to tell if they were foreigners or their skill.

He hours in the rain, dodging and hiding in caves when he could, lying flat on the cold ground to disappear blend in with his clothes, one time even jumping into a river and clinging to the edge of the bank with chakra. It took around three minutes for the enemy ninja to cross past him, and another two for them to reach a safe distance away from him.

It was like being behind enemy lines, this being his own country.

On his fourth night, he finally, finally achieved something.

Hoshi slowed, and then halted, sensing a whole platoon at the end of his range. Definitely more than ten. The boy took out his borrowed spyglass and began to observe when they came into view, communicating with hand-sings that were not used by Hanzo's soldiers. He'd know, he and Konan had prowled the nights and hid from their own share of ANBU to spy on their language.

His pulse quickened as the group stopped for a breather. Gotcha.

Iwa nin were sneaky, capitalizing on the distinct outfits of Ame ninjas. Just like he was blending into the surroundings, they were blending into the shinobi by copying their uniforms. Fifteen shinobi. Faces in indistinguishable but four females he could clearly spot due to the body-fitting wetsuits of Rain they were wearing.

More than a few seemed to be seething at the rain. Heh. Hoshi knew that feel. One day he'd try to understand just how high were their underground water levels.

Shifting his spyglass and mentally referencing the map, Hoshi deduced that they could get into Konoha in a day or two if they travelled non-stop. And with technically being granted cover by Rain, they could stop for rest before launching whatever plans they had. They were much too far from Amegakure, and were much more concerned with Konoha than Kusa, if he recalled the manga.

And then two of them turned his way directly, both of them tall and well-built. Enough to be jounin. The clouds were lighter, meaning his spyglass must have flashed in the lifting dawn. Cursing, he retreated.

"Stop there!" He stood directly in front of him although the voice came from behind. Coal-black eyes narrowed at the genjutsu. Hoshi turned around at once, and made a show of pretending to be confused. The chakra signature behind him inched closed as the voice continued. "What are you doing here? Identify yourself!"

"A-a-ah, sorry! I'm Otonashi, a genin." Hoshi bowed, coiling his muscles. There didn't seem to be anyone else around. Shit. This guy is definitely a jounin. Come on, walk closer.

"And why the fuck is a genin here? You lost?"

"Ah y-yes," Hoshi blabbed on. "My squad didn't like me much, and it was dark last night when they moved. I had the last watch but when I woke up everyone was gone."

"Tch." The man was just an arm's length behind him, his voice equidistant from the front. "Alright, give me your ID number, and I'll point you to the nearest check-post."

Well, shit.

"O-oh, it's-" He fumbled the sleeves of his black yukata, knowing the enemy couldn't had loosened his guard a bit. Within his roomy sleeves was a storage seal he had drawn himself. A small pulse released the unsheathed blade and the boy whirled quick as lightning, swinging his sword with a step so fast it could have been a body-flicker.

The ninja behind him was dressed a sleeveless black body suit, with dark grey vest and matching bracers for arms and legs. His green eyes were shocked behind his grimy black bangs, a slash on his neck. Blood gurgled in his throat, leaking through his grill of his oval mouthpiece.

He was surprisingly young, and had a delivery bag on his person. A courier chunin.

"H-How...no killing intent at all..." He slumped to the ground, blood pooling around him. He continued to mumble, but Hoshi was moving, shoving the tip of his sword into the top of his spine. He went limp, stopping all twitching.

Hoshi took it as a sign that he'd struck true and severed all his nerves, sparing him the pain. Next he turned to the bag, recognizing the lock as one he could pick. It was made of waterproof canvas cloth, sturdy but highly flammable.

Hoshi felt the two of the disguised Iwa shinobi reaching his location and hurriedly slung the bag over his own back. Both were male, features hidden as Hoshi's own due to the uniform.

"I was wondering why one of the signatures disappeared." One of the Iwa ninja remarked, voice rugged. It had a slight accent that did not fit this country.

"Sir, he tried to kill me. Can't have his falling into anyone's hand." Hoshi patted the bag he was wearing. "Don't know why the dumb shit tried. This thing is locked and secure. Only my captain can open it...er, jounin-sama?"

The other shinobi shrugged, deciding that he wasn't worth any delay and regrouped with their own men (and women), carrying onwards. Taking the bag with him, Hoshi ran to a small cave some two kilometers away, and then decided to pick the lock.

He had only a second's warning before he heard a fuse, and used a substitution as the thing exploded.

"Damn it!" Hoshi hurriedly spat a water bullet it but it continued to burn. "Shit, water-proof material can be highly flammable." He rushed forward and stuck his hands inside, ignoring the burns and tossing whatever he found away from the flames.

Burnt and useless ration bars, brand new kunai and shuriken albeit sooty, two blackened and flaking scrolls, which were obviously the target, a precious soldier pill bottle that he'd accidentally smashed when he threw it, and... an updated Bingo book.

Hoshi opened his storage scroll meant for his rations that were now down to just two, and filled the remaining space with as much new weapons as he could. He formed a neat tower of kunai in a square formation, piling the shuriken inside. Then he placed the black, hardcover Bingo book on it and sealed before it could fall.

As long as something fit the surface of the scroll and was up to one foot-tall, it could be sealed successfully without any harm. Hoshi had designed them to accommodate a height of fifteen inches, but kept the last three inches as a safety measure.

The seal inside his sleeve could hold many things, but was meant only for his sword. That one-hit kill movement had been practiced thousands of time for critical moments.

Now here he was, stuck in the basement of a warehouse used to store sacks of sand. A cement factory, in essence. Not as tightly guarded as grain silos or maintained as much as poultries, but secure. There was a bonus with it being uncanny enough that no one would expect a potential rebel to rest in there. Sneaking into a house for cover didn't sit well with him.

His hands were covered in a healing salve and bandages. He'd been quite reckless when retrieving things from fire. Sighing, he took a sip of water from his canteen, pondering over his life.

Two years since Jiraya had left, and the Third Shinobi World War had started. In a way, it came later than Hoshi expected, but all too soon.

Due to the onset of the war, the four orphans had taken to providing protection for these smaller villages as per the plan. Yahiko sucked at speeches, but radiated a charisma that eased people. Konan had taken her origami to a whole new level, and Nagato was beginning to learn fire, his last element.

Hoshi himself had obtained a katana, courtesy of Hana from the Red Lotus Inn. The woman had a history of being an apprentice to a healer, before she was sold by her parents to a 'client'. The act was horrific, but Hoshi had learned that man, kept anonymous by Hana, for all his faults was gentlemen and kept her as...well, whatever the heterosexual word for pederasty.

Hoshi cynically boiled it down the man being handsome enough for his auction of freedom to be tolerable. But that was just him and he didn't speak shite about it. The woman he had wanted access to, the "Aunty" passed away due to giving birth, but she had brought a baby boy into the world. The title of Aunty was now held by "Hana-nee" and Hoshi, who had been somewhat of a regular helper there requested and got a sword. A plain one, but it was sharp.

There was also the time he had landed all his friends into learning a dance the prostitutes did, some sort of bastardization of the Land of Fire's Geisha culture, but it required lots of flexibility and gave them ideas for new taijutsu forms.

All refused to forgive him, even Nagato got mad at him.

"Ah, good times." He whispered to himself, taking another sip from his canteen. The boy he had killed today wasn't his first, and it wouldn't be his last. Hoshi hugged his knees, wishing someone was here with him. He wanted Yahiko to give him some reassurance, Nagato to fuss over him, or Konan to try and annoy him, starting a petty fight. He wanted to feel Jiraya-sensei's large hand on his hand, telling him about the way the world was and just being there.

He hiccuped, clenching his fists. Took deep breaths, shuddering. And then reopened his eyes with a steeled heart. Whether in this world or the one before, he had hated death, no matter whose it was. He was a murderer, he would not lie to himself.

Hoshi operated was no stranger to operating alone, but he did not like being lonely. Loneliness meant he'd think of his life before, how he'd died, how he could have chosen countless different paths, then denying that he couldn't, and life wasn't fair. He'd taught the orphans Korean, called Nagato his little brother and meant it from his heart (even though the idiot was taller than him and had a deeper voice, baritone opposed his tenor), but he had not told them who he was.

It stabbed his heart, making breathing difficult at times. But then, neither of the other orphans had shared their own backgrounds. Did they feel like he did? With another sigh, he got up. It was time to meet his team again.