Inoichi screamed as he raced across the crashing waves.
This was the largest convoy they'd sent between Uzu and the mainland since the start of Kiri's attacks—in the interim the Ino-Shika-Cho heirs had been fortifying the island's defenses, but now that the island protections were in place, it was time for them to join the frontlines of the war.
Given that three of the most powerful jounin would be returning to the mainland, Uzu had taken the opportunity to send just under a dozen ships with them—supplies and people and all sorts of messages to bring back to the mainland after so many weeks of near-total blockades.
It wasn't a surprise, then, when they were attacked. Even the smaller convoys were attacked—not all made it, but Konoha's shinobi made absolutely sure that they never came away unscathed.
This time, though, Inoichi was here.
And it was time for him and Ino-Shika-Cho to leave their mark.
On either side of him Shikaku and Chouza dashed through the foam and water, the three of them headed for the most heavily armed of the Kiri ships just slightly too slowly.
Faster, Inoichi thought, Faster.
If they could just –
Almost imperceptibly, the three of them picked up speed.
They could see the damage on the back ships of the convoy already—they'd thought the ships would be attacked from the front, as they had with the previous attacks, but not this time.
Kiri had predicted their defenses would be frontloaded, and they were right.
Now it was up to Ino-Shika-Cho to make that victory meaningless.
Finally, they reached the ship.
Flew up the sides, even as Kiri's ninja began attacking them with ninjutsu and metal and even genjutsu.
They made it on the deck.
Chouza grinned, blood dripping down his smile from a slash on his forehead, and transformed.
It was time to make Kiri regret ever trying to attack Konoha.
.
Sakura hated meetings.
It seemed as if she'd only just left the last one when she had to go to the next.
In this case, actually, that was exactly what had happened—she'd spent the morning reviewing the plans for new rail lines, and the next meeting with the Hokage started less than two minutes after the rail meeting ended.
And now she had to sit and listen to Clan Head Shimura argue, again, about the need to bring children into active duty.
"I cannot emphasize this enough: We. Are. Losing!" Clan Head Shimura snapped. "Additional forces—"
"—will make little to no difference," the Hokage interjected. "As I've told you. Repeatedly." Minato sighed, leaning forward as he gestured across the map of Fire's east coast, "Right now, Kiri's far greater understanding of the sea means we are simply playing catchup.
"Throwing more people at the problem won't solve anything—we need new techniques."
"How do you know more people won't work?"
"Can you give me a single reason why it might?"
Sakura, well aware that Clan Head Shimura had dozens of reasons that Minato had already rejected, and dozens more the Clan Head thought wasn't enough of a deterrent to try, decided it was her turn to interrupt.
"I was thinking about that, actually."
The Old Powers—as the Utatane, Shimura, Mitokado, Sarutobi clans were beginning to become known as—all cut her looks.
She ignored them.
"It builds on the Commander's suggestion from yesterday—about setting up ambushes at some of the ports?"
The Commander sat up, interested. The suggestion had been taken up immediately, but the Commander had made it clear that he didn't think it would be nearly enough. Any suggestion to build on his, then, was automatically something he was interested in.
"I was talking to Researcher Uchiha Hijri, and he suggested creating hidden tracking tags to stash in Kiri's ships. While Kiri is usually watching for us too much to get away with it, during an ambush we might."
"That sounds… incredibly useful, actually."
"There are downsides. Based on discussions with the Researchers and other shinobi who have studied tracking seals, we might be able to come up with a workable prototype within a week or two. That said, given that it's most important for these seals to go unnoticed for as long as possible, we will have to cut some corners."
"How many?"
"The tracking seals will likely only last a few weeks, before crumbling. In addition, the beacon picking up the tracking seal signal would have to be very close. Not as close as the ones we have working now—our ongoing work already identified several mechanisms to increase range—but our best bet is that we'll need beacons all along the shoreline."
"And how far out into the ocean can we track the ships?"
"I don't know; that sort of information won't be available until we have a working prototype."
"Which you're saying will take one to two weeks?"
"Yes, so long as we pull five Researchers off their current project and onto this one. That will delay several other projects, but—"
"It may very well be worth it," the Hokage finished. He sighed, rubbing his head. "Do it, of course. We need to get on the offensive somehow, but tracking them in the meantime will be very helpful for preventing the same rate of losses, even if it's just a few more minutes warning."
"Hai."
Minato turned to the Utilities Head, "Head Maeda, how are we doing on food rationing?"
"Everyone's doing their part, of course," Head Maeda said, "and the weather's been kind; we don't have to worry about drought or anything like that."
"Good, good," Minato said, "good. Yes, okay. So—we're good on food, good on water, good on… we're just bad on labor. And, obviously, a navy."
"How about the Land of Snow?" Commerce Head Mitokado interjected.
"The country above Ishi-ka Bay?"
"Yes; we're on good terms now, because we gave them tips about how to set up their railroad after they came up with their own design, and—importantly—they are an island nation whose only trade is through the most tumultuous waters in the world."
"They don't have a Navy like Kiri's," the Commander slowly drew a line beginning at Snow and going southeast, around Lightning and toward Water, "but all of their ships are built to last, and they do have a large number of them for their size."
"Even their merchant ships are built like a more southern warship," the Commerce Head pointed out. "If we can find some sort of deal to bring them in…"
"What do you think, Head Sarutobi?" The Diplomacy Head frowned, but the frown was thoughtful, not discouraging.
"It's… possible. Tricky, because obviously the Land of Fire does have a Navy so we'll have to tread carefully to avoid unsightly questions. But I do know the Land of Snow has been looking for a chance to flex their muscles, so to speak, to dissuade Iwa aggression."
"Well, we can certainly provide that. Alright, Research will be working on the trackers, Commerce will be planning out how to distribute trade opportunities for the cut-off ports, Infrastructure will expand the rail network… Commander, you'll lead the ambush planning. Education will continue as is, and the other Departments will continue with wartime footing."
"Hai, Hokage."
"Dismissed."
.
Ibiki shuffled nervously, glancing up and down the corridor as he kept his nose plugged with tissues..
After a couple seconds, his Uncle Juro appeared from around a corner, and Ibiki winced.
Uncle Juro had clearly already been filled in.
"Alright," Uncle Juro said. He crouched in front of Ibiki, brushing the tissue away to grab his nose.
The bleeding stopped.
The pit in Ibiki's stomach remained.
"You and I both know I've already gotten a rundown, so there's no point lying, but I want you to explain what happened in your own words."
"I mean, I'm sure you're busy—the war and all—maybe this can wait—"
"Ibiki."
Ibiki's mouth snapped shut.
He knew he'd made a mistake.
Obviously he knew that.
But couldn't he just be grounded or something and get it over with?
"Ibiki."
"It was Asuma's idea!" That was a good start. Uncle Juro didn't seem to agree. "It was, really! And Genma did it too! Even Kurenai did, after the first time!"
"Ibiki."
Ibiki slumped. In a lower voice, but not enough that Uncle Juro would tell him to speak up—his uncle would wait until the story was already over, and then Ibiki would have to go over all of it again—he began.
"I was just complaining, you know, because Asuma and Genma and Kurenai are genin now but I have to wait for the summer, because my birthday's not until March, and I know they delayed a whole semester—well, Asuma didn't do that willingly, his dad made him, but still—but it still felt unfair, you know, because I do just as well as any of them and I have to stay behind because I wasn't ten in January.
"And I was complaining, and Asuma… Asuma suggested, you know, they find a way to get me to do some genin stuff."
"So you carried groceries for the elderly? Swept the streets? Volunteered as an extra set of eyes at a daycare?"
"That's the boring stuff!" Ibiki whined, "Obviously Asuma didn't suggest that."
"So…"
Uncle Juro knew the story.
It wasn't fair that Ibiki had to explain.
"You know, fighting. Combat practice. That's the fun stuff."
"You get that at the Academy."
"Yeah, but not… you know… not…"
His uncle wouldn't just say it for him.
Ibiki lowered his voice even more. "Not real."
"Real?"
"You know, in the Academy there's always an instructor watching, and stuff."
"…"
"And, and, um…"
"Who is Asuma's Sensei?" Uncle Juro asked.
Ibiki's eyes snapped up, confused. He answered anyway, "um, Sensei Inuzuka."
"And do I need to file a report that Sensei Inuzuka does not monitor his students' training sessions?"
Ibiki's whole body reacted, pushing forward away from the wall in his rush to disagree, "No! No, that's not—he does monitor. He does."
"So…"
"Well, you know, genin used to—they used to like, battle bandits and stuff. Without monitoring. So we were, I guess, more trying to do that."
"Where you were all bandits."
"Yeah."
Uncle Juro sighed.
"I don't even—okay, first. There was never any 'going after bandits without monitoring.' Ever."
"But you—"
"When I fought bandits, when any of my peers fought bandits as genin, we did it under the close supervision of our Senseis, who were ready to—and did—step in whenever we were in over our heads."
"Oh."
"Also, a nick, a misplaced chakra-enforced punch, a jutsu not properly controlled—all of it can kill you immediately."
Ibiki looked down.
"You can run for help as quickly as you can—just as you did today—but a bit of bad luck could have meant that wasn't enough."
Ibiki flushed. "Will Asuma be okay?"
"Yes," Uncle Juro sighed, "he'll be fine. Physically. His career, though, yours, Genma's, Kurenai's—this will be a mark that will affect how you're treated for years.
"Sparring is one thing, Ibiki. Sparring is—you can get hurt, but the chance of irreversible injury is less. It's still discouraged during wartime, because of the limited medical resources, but it's… fine.
"Especially when you're sparring in a known training ground, with at least some adults knowing where you are and what you're doing.
"That's not what you four did.
"You lied to those charged with keeping you safe.
"You deliberately found a location that minimized the chance of anybody seeing you, knowing where you are.
"You didn't just use your body—you used chakra, you used genjutsu, you used sharp weapons… Asuma's surgery—burns like that, it'll take three surgeons over an hour to fix it up.
"He'll be healing for weeks.
"All of that is time, resources, which we can't afford to waste."
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are, Ibiki, but you're nearly ten. You need to do better."
"I know."
Uncle Juro sighed. "I need to get back to work."
Ibiki stayed silent.
"You—just—just go back to school, okay? I'll talk to your Aunt Sakura, and we'll decide… we'll decide what to do."
"Okay. I'm sorry."
"I know. We'll talk later. I'll be off at eight, so I'll see you then."
"Okay."
"We'll get past this, okay? This is a mistake—a mistake you shouldn't be making, at your age—but it's not the worst mistake to make. We'll get past this."
"Okay. Love you."
"Love you too."
Throughout the corridor a warning beep sounded—the next train of injured had just arrived.
"Bye," Ibiki choked out.
Uncle Juro hugged him. "I'll see you tonight."