Hinata: Byakurenden
The Gokage Summit Commences
Following Hinata and Itachi's meeting with the Raikage, they were granted one day of much-needed rest before Gaara arrived, escorted by Neji's team, with Naruto and Sasuke joining them.
The room they all gathered in was the largest and most luxurious tatami room the inn had to offer, its polished wooden floors gleaming under the soft light of hanging lanterns. Tatami mats covered the majority of the floor, and a low, lacquered table sat in the center of the room, surrounded by neatly arranged cushions. Despite its size, the room felt uncomfortably cramped with the sheer number of people now present, even without Akamaru, who was waiting in a stable outside due to the inn's strict policies, the space was starting to feel stifling.
Hinata sat closest to Itachi near one corner of the table, her posture poised but visibly tired. Tayuya leaned back on her cushion beside Hinata, arms crossed, visibly unimpressed by the growing crowd. Itachi, as calm as ever, occupied the seat at the head of the table, Yugao and Anko positioned behind him like silent sentinels, their eyes scanning the room out of habit.
Across from them sat Gaara, his expression impassive as always, though the faint tension in his shoulders hinted at the weight he carried as Kazekage. Neji and Shino flanked him, both seated with quiet dignity, observing the room with their characteristic attentiveness. Kiba, by contrast, was sprawled casually on his cushion, his relaxed demeanor offset by the occasional glance toward the door, no doubt thinking about Akamaru.
Naruto, true to form, sat cross-legged beside Sasuke, his loud energy a stark contrast to Sasuke's brooding silence. While Naruto had already helped himself to a cup of tea from the table, Sasuke remained rigid and distant, his sharp gaze flicking to each person in turn as if assessing the situation.
Despite the luxury of their surroundings, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. The air seemed heavy, the tightly packed room amplifying the sense of urgency as the conversation turned to the harrowing events of Akatsukigakure. Naturally, the newcomers were eager for details, and Hinata and Tayuya once again found themselves recounting their experiences. The tension built as each word brought them closer to the weighty matter at hand: the imminent Gokage Summit.
"You shits can't seriously just keep expecting me to go along with whatever you want!" Hidan's disembodied head ranted furiously, his voice loud and full of rage despite his lack of lungs. Positioned in the center of the table, his severed head faced Itachi, the awkward centerpiece of their impromptu gathering.
The sight was grotesque and absurd in equal measure. Hidan's expression, twisted with indignation, made the surreal nature of the scene even more unsettling. His pale, scarred face was scuffed with dirt from being tossed around carelessly, and his bloodshot eyes darted between the gathered shinobi, glaring at each of them in turn. It was hard to look at him without feeling a twinge of discomfort—or, in some cases, grim amusement.
"We have a common enemy, Hidan." Itachi's calm voice cut through the tirade as his Sharingan flared, locking onto Hidan's agitated gaze. "You were deep in the enemy's stronghold when Amaterasu first arrived. If you testify at the Gokage Summit, we have a better chance at convincing the other villages to help us. That means we will have a force strong enough to march on Akatsukigakure, where your body is being kept."
"What's left of your body, anyway," Tayuya muttered under her breath. She had seen the horrifying state of his dismembered remains in Orochimaru's lab—scattered limbs, shattered bones, and vital organs suspended in grotesque preservation jars. It would take a miracle—or a particularly sadistic genius—to put him back together again.
"You better keep your word, Itachi," Hidan growled, somehow managing to flop his head over to face Sasuke instead. The movement was jerky and grotesque, his neck stump grinding awkwardly against the table. "'Cause your little brother is a damn liar!"
Sasuke sighed, the barest hint of exasperation flickering across his otherwise stoic face. "I never lied," he said, his voice calm but firm. He had clearly been through this argument before. "We told you from the beginning we would only go after your body if it was in a location we could viably mount a rescue mission. The middle of the enemy stronghold isn't exactly a place we could infiltrate on our own and hope to return alive. It would have just gotten us all captured—or killed—in the process."
"And besides, it was exactly as Naruto predicted!" Kiba declared, grinning as he leaned across the crowded tatami room to drape an arm over Tayuya's shoulders. The effort was exaggerated, requiring him to half-crawl over Hinata's futon, nearly toppling a teacup in the process. He had barely managed to touch her shoulder when she drove a sharp elbow into his ribs with pinpoint accuracy.
"Touch me again, and you're going to need Akamaru to carry you home." Tayuya growled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I'm not one of your damn dogs."
"Noted," Kiba wheezed, rubbing his side tenderly.
Naruto beamed at them, crossing his arms smugly. "I told you they'd find their way out! I believed in you two the whole time!" His blue eyes sparkled with genuine pride as he leaned forward, looking between Hinata and Tayuya. "You didn't need us charging in like idiots."
"Charging in like an idiot is your specialty," Sasuke muttered from where he sat, arms folded, his tone dry but not entirely unkind. His gaze remained fixed on Hidan's head as if it were more deserving of his attention than Naruto's theatrics.
"I wouldn't have minded if someone had bothered," Tayuya shot back, though there was a flicker of grudging respect in her tone. She wasn't about to admit it, but she appreciated Naruto's unwavering faith in them.
"I feel ashamed to admit it," Shino interjected, his voice calm but tinged with quiet regret, "but Sasuke's decision was logically correct at the moment." He inclined his head slightly toward Hinata and Tayuya. Although his goggles obscured his eyes and his expression was as unreadable as ever, Hinata could feel the weight of his disappointment. "I should have trusted my instincts, but the risk to everyone's safety seemed too great. It was… a challenging moral dilemma."
"It's fine, Shino-kun," Hinata said gently, her voice warm and reassuring. She leaned forward slightly, catching his hidden gaze. "I'm just glad you all made it here safely. And I don't hold it against you. I trust your judgment—just as you trusted us to figure things out." Her natural smile made her sincerity unmistakable, and for a moment, she felt the tension in the room ease.
Shino gave a slight nod, the lines of his shoulders relaxing. "Thank you, Hinata," he murmured. Though his expression was hidden, there was a subtle shift in his tone—a quiet gratitude for her forgiveness.
The room, cramped as it was, buzzed with the energy of shared relief and rekindled camaraderie, each of them finding a moment of connection amidst the chaos of the mission ahead.
"So how's this exactly supposed to work then?" Anko asked, her sharp eyes darting around the room as she leaned lazily against a pillar, chewing on yet another dango stick. The stick swayed in her hand as she gestured toward the group. "Are all of us making the climb up the Sanrō?"
The Sanrō—otherwise known as the Three Wolves—was a trio of imposing mountain peaks in the heart of the Land of Iron, veiled in mist and snow, its jagged cliffs towering over the surrounding landscape. It was here that the Gokage Summit would be held, a sacred and neutral ground chosen for its defensibility and isolation.
"We already discussed this, Anko," Yugao interjected, her tone clipped as she folded her arms. She stood near the door, her stance prim and formal in contrast to Anko's casual posture. "Only the Gokage and a maximum of two escorts each are allowed near the summit grounds. While they attend the meeting, the rest of us will remain on standby here at the inn."
Anko shrugged, not particularly moved by Yugao's scolding. She popped the last piece of dango into her mouth and mumbled, "Figures. Just making sure the plan hasn't changed."
"In regards to that," Gaara raised his hand to speak, and though he spoke softly, there was an inherent weight to his words that commanded attention. "I did not bring any of my own guards. My brother Kankuro and the remaining Shinobi of my village stayed behind to gather our former citizens and relocate them to a secure area. However, we've devised an alternative plan for the Summit."
Naruto couldn't contain himself, practically bouncing to his feet with a triumphant grin. "This right here!" he announced, pulling a couple of sand-colored robes and matching cowls out from his backpack and holding them up like a prize. The rough but durable fabric bore subtle embroidery patterns unique to Sunagakure, clearly purchased from a merchant familiar with the region. "We picked these up in a little market on our way here. We can pretend to be Shinobi from the Sand Village and act as Gaara's bodyguards. Genius, right? Right?" He thrust the robes toward Itachi, his blue eyes pleading for approval.
Itachi regarded the robes for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It'll have to do," he said, though his tone carried a hint of reluctant resignation. "To ensure no complications, both you and Sasuke will use the transformation jutsu while wearing the robes. Disguising your identities will prevent unnecessary questions."
"Yes!" Naruto pumped a fist into the air, already draping one of the robes over his shoulder. Sasuke, seated beside him, merely rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
Itachi turned toward Hinata and Tayuya, who were sitting side by side. "Meanwhile, Hyūga Hinata and Uzumaki Tayuya will attend as my escorts. Both of you have firsthand knowledge of Akatsukigakure and its operations, which makes your presence at the Summit essential."
Hinata nodded firmly, though her heart skipped slightly at the responsibility. She glanced at Tayuya, who looked equally resolute but couldn't resist muttering under her breath, "No pressure or anything."
Itachi continued, "I will be attending as the Godaime Hokage, and Gaara as the Godaime Kazekage. Naruto and Sasuke will act as Sunagakure Shinobi and guard the Kazekage. Hinata and Tayuya will serve as my representatives. Hidan, of course, will come along not as a guard, but as a witness. His testimony will support our case."
The room fell silent for a beat as everyone processed their assigned roles. The rest of the group—Yugao, Anko, Neji, Kiba, and Shino—would remain at the inn as backup. Despite knowing they had crucial roles to play, there was a collective feeling of tension, as if the air itself were weighted with the importance of what was to come.
Itachi straightened his posture, his gaze sweeping across the room. "We have one hour before we depart for the Sanrō. If there are any final preparations to be made, now is the time."
The room erupted into movement as everyone began to prepare, the charged atmosphere tempered only slightly by Naruto's enthusiastic energy. The summit was no longer a distant event on the horizon—it was now imminent, and every decision from here on out would shape the future of the Shinobi world.
Naruto and Sasuke departed with Gaara, the Kazekage leading them with quiet authority. Their task was simple in theory but challenging in practice: mastering the subtle nuances of Sunagakure's demeanor, gait, and bearing. Gaara had only an hour to mold them into convincing Sunanin, and their focused expressions showed they understood the importance of this fleeting time. Hinata watched them go, a small pang of disappointment tugging at her chest. She had hoped to spend what little time she had left with Naruto, but it seemed fate had other plans.
Kiba bounded out of the room next, muttering something about checking on Akamaru. Tayuya trailed behind him reluctantly, her usual grumbling softening whenever the large ninken was mentioned. Despite her rough demeanor, she had a clear fondness for Akamaru. Perhaps it was the way his loyal energy mirrored the bond she had once shared with her Doki, though she would never admit it aloud.
Shino followed in their wake, his focus already on his notebook as he muttered observations about the local insect population. The Land of Iron's shifting climate had caused unexpected developments in its fauna, and Shino's fascination with this new environment was evident. Whether anyone else cared about the region's beetles and moths was another matter entirely.
Meanwhile, Itachi remained seated, his posture composed as ever, speaking calmly with Hidan. The severed head rested on the table, its constant raving interspersed with reluctant fragments of information. Itachi's Sharingan glowed faintly as he listened, every detail absorbed and cataloged. Yugao and Anko flanked him, standing at attention with the quiet discipline of seasoned shinobi, though Anko's idle chewing on yet another dango stick betrayed her impatience.
This left Hinata alone in the spacious tatami room—alone, that is, until Neji approached her. His steps were measured, his gaze steady but carrying an edge of something unspoken.
"Hinata-sama," Neji said, inclining his head respectfully. "Would you care to join me for a walk?"
Hinata hesitated, her stomach tightening at the formal tone of his request. She had been avoiding this moment, though she couldn't fully articulate why. It wasn't that she disliked Neji; far from it. If anything, she was disappointed in herself, afraid of what he might want to say.
The Moonfire Elixir had been her gift to the Hyūga clan, her attempt to burn away the curse of the caged-bird seal that had oppressed the branch family for generations. Yet its liberation had come at a steep cost. Without the seal, the Hyūga had become targets. Kabuto had been the first to slaughter her clansmen for their Byakugan, but Hinata feared he wouldn't be the last. The reality of her actions weighed heavily on her, and she dreaded what Neji might think or feel about the burden they now carried.
Still, she couldn't run forever. If Neji had gone so far as to approach her directly, she owed him at least the courtesy of listening.
"A walk sounds refreshing," Hinata said at last, though her voice came out stilted and overly formal. She cursed herself inwardly for the awkwardness of her reply, but Neji didn't seem to mind. He simply turned toward the door, his expression unreadable, and waited for her to join him.
The atmosphere between them was thick with unspoken words, a fragile tension that hung in the air as the two of them left the inn, their steps slow and unhurried as they strolled along the quiet road. The chill of the late afternoon air brushed against Hinata's face, and her eyes wandered to the distant snow-dusted peaks of the Sanrō. Even with the warming effects of Amaterasu's influence, the icy heights of the Three Wolves remained untouched, a natural fortress against her reach. The sight brought an odd sense of relief to Hinata, as though the enduring cold represented a shred of resistance the world still had left to offer. Yet she quickly shook the thought away, knowing she was using it to distract herself from what truly weighed on her mind.
She stole a glance at Neji, walking a step ahead of her, his posture straight and his gaze forward. They hadn't spoken yet, but the air between them felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Hinata clenched her hands at her sides, the familiar weight of guilt settling in her chest. If he had brought her out here to speak privately, it could only mean one thing—he wanted to reprimand her for the consequences of the Moonfire Elixir.
It was a possibility she couldn't blame him for. She had meddled in clan matters she was no longer technically part of, and while her intentions had been good, the results were undeniable. The removal of the caged bird seal had freed the branch family, but it had also made them vulnerable, hunted for their Byakugan by forces across the world. She had expected anger from Neji, maybe even resentment. But when he finally broke the silence, his words startled her completely.
"Hinata-sama…" Neji's voice was soft, but it carried a weight that made her stomach tighten. He came to a stop, his head lowered slightly as if gathering his courage. Then, with a sudden motion, he turned to face her and bowed deeply, his long hair falling forward. "Over the past few days, I have done nothing but fail you. I should have been by your side when that man came to take you away. I was too focused on the mission and failed to protect you when it mattered most. And after you were taken, I couldn't even mount a rescue. For all of this, I am deeply sorry."
Hinata blinked, caught entirely off guard by his words and gesture. "N-Neji-nii-san!" she stammered, glancing around nervously. The road was sparsely populated, but the few passersby turned curious glances their way, their interest piqued by the sight of such a formal bow. "You didn't let me down! No one could have possibly stopped what happened back then." She waved her hands frantically, her voice pleading as she tried to make him stand up straight.
The memory of their capture played vividly in her mind. Kabuto had erupted in black flames, creating chaos that allowed Obito to act in an instant. His space-time jutsu had been too fast, too precise, leaving even Sasuke's Amenotejikara unable to intercept him in time. It wasn't a failure on Neji's part—or anyone's. It had been a coordinated move, perfectly executed. Yet Neji remained bowed, his expression unreadable.
"I understand, deep down, that it likely couldn't have been prevented, even if I'd been by your side," he admitted after a pause. "But that doesn't change how I feel. I want to make it up to you—not as a member of the branch family, but because you freed me from my curse. I owe you that much."
"Your curse…" Hinata echoed the words, feeling a bitter laugh rise in her chest. "Neji-nii-san, you should hate me for what I've done. I interfered in our clan's affairs, even though I'm no longer the heiress. Because of me, you and the other branch members are being hunted. The one who should be apologizing here is me." She bowed deeply in return, her voice trembling with emotion.
Neji's head lifted in surprise, his sharp gaze softening as he regarded her. "Meddling? Hinata-sama, neither I nor anyone in the branch family sees it that way." He straightened, his stance now gentle but firm. "You freed us. We all understood the risks that might come with that freedom. Many villages have wanted the Byakugan for generations. Yet, we accepted the Moonfire Elixir willingly. We would rather be hunted and killed as free people than live as caged birds, destined to sacrifice ourselves for the main family."
Hinata felt her chest tighten, but this time it wasn't from guilt. Neji's words carried a conviction that filled her with a sense of unexpected relief. She raised her head, her lavender eyes meeting his. "Neji-nii-san…" she whispered, her voice soft. Despite the years that had passed, she still had to look up at him, and the gentle smile on his face only made her feel smaller.
"It seems," Neji said, his smile turning faintly amused, "that we've both been carrying around guilt that the other doesn't feel is warranted." He extended a hand toward her. "So how about this? I'll forgive you for the Moonfire Elixir if you forgive me for not being able to save you when the Akatsuki took you."
Hinata stared at his outstretched hand, her lips parting in surprise. It seemed like such a simple, almost childish gesture, yet she understood the deeper meaning behind it. It wasn't about forgiveness, not really. It was about letting go of the burdens they had placed on themselves. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached out and took his, shaking it firmly.
"Okay," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I forgive you for not being able to do the impossible."
Neji let out a quiet chuckle, his smile widening. "And I forgive you for freeing me from a cursed destiny."
The tension between them melted away, replaced by something lighter, almost cathartic. They resumed their walk, their pace relaxed and unhurried as they drifted into easier topics. Hinata spoke about her cousins in the Hinoshita clan and the shrine maiden duties she had learned during her travels. Neji recounted his frustrations as the Jōnin Captain of a team that included Kiba, Shino, and Tayuya, his tone exasperated but warm.
By the time their designated hour was up, the air between them had transformed entirely. The weight of unspoken guilt was gone, leaving behind only the bond of family—a bond strengthened by their shared struggles and the mutual understanding they had reached.
The group gathered at the edge of the village, where the road to the Sanrō began to slope upward toward the imposing peaks of the Three Wolves. A chill hung in the air despite the warming influence of Amaterasu, and the crisp mountain breeze carried the faint scent of pine and earth. The atmosphere was thick with both anticipation and nervous energy as final preparations were made.
"How do we look?" Naruto asked, spinning in an excited circle. His desert-brown robe swished around him, and his white cowl concealed all but his eyes. Red tufts of hair poked out from beneath the hood, completing the transformation. Next to him, Sasuke was similarly dressed, though his demeanor was much cooler, his hands tucked into the folds of his robe.
"If you can stay quiet, no one should know it's you," Itachi remarked, his tone calm but with a faint edge of amusement. Naruto's exaggerated gestures were a dead giveaway, and it was clear who was who. To anyone less familiar with them, though, the disguises were convincing enough.
"That should be fine," Gaara said, though his expression betrayed his doubt. "To someone from Suna, they'd stand out. But for the summit, it should suffice."
Sasuke pulled his cowl lower and spoke in a gruffer, raspy voice, almost unrecognizable. "Us guards are supposed to stay out of sight unless called upon, so it shouldn't matter much as long as no one gets too close."
"Called upon, or if it's time to kick some ass," Tayuya said, cracking her knuckles with a feral grin.
"Right. Because nothing says stealth like a brawl," Neji said dryly, crossing his arms as he gave her a pointed look. He had become used to countering Tayuya's logic—or lack thereof—over the course of their missions together.
"Come back soon, you two!" Kiba exclaimed, pulling Hinata into a tight hug that caught her off guard. She returned it gently, smiling warmly despite his unrestrained energy.
"We'll be waiting," Shino added, lingering closer than usual. He didn't go for a hug, but his presence spoke volumes, and Hinata appreciated the sentiment just as much.
At Gaara's side, Hidan's head swung back and forth in the makeshift sand carrier, glaring at everyone present. "Can we just hurry up already!?" he bellowed, his voice loud and indignant.
"Please, be quiet," Gaara said, his voice calm but firm as he manipulated the sand around the Sadōdama he had brought with him, forming a gag to seal Hidan's mouth. After days of hearing the disembodied head's ceaseless complaints, he was more than ready to pass him off at the summit.
Itachi stood slightly apart, nodding to Yugao and Anko, who had escorted him this far. "Thank you for your service. The rest is in our hands now."
The two kunoichi bowed slightly in acknowledgment, their gazes sharp as they watched the group prepare to leave. "Good luck, Hokage-sama," Yugao said. Anko gave them a grin and a mock salute, though her eyes betrayed her seriousness.
With everything in place, Itachi and Gaara took the lead, their postures straight and purposeful. Behind them, Hinata, Naruto, Sasuke, and Tayuya followed, their footsteps steady as they ascended the winding pathway toward the peaks.
The Sanrō loomed ahead, snow-capped and majestic, its jagged edges cutting into the sky like ancient sentinels. The summit awaited them, a place where alliances would be forged—or broken—and where the future of the shinobi world would be decided.
As the group climbed higher along the winding path, the sheer majesty of the Sanrō came into view. The three towering peaks rose like sentinels, their jagged edges capped with shimmering snow that glinted in the cold, clear light. The slopes curved inward at certain angles, giving the illusion of three enormous wolf maws gaping toward the sky. Hanging beneath the overhangs of each peak were massive icicles, their dagger-like shapes resembling rows of fangs, lending a primal and foreboding aura to the mountains. This was the origin of the name "Sanrō," or "Three Wolves."
At the heart of these formidable peaks lay their destination: a grand pyramid-shaped temple nestled in a wide, snow-laden valley. The temple's sharp, geometric lines contrasted starkly against the rugged curves of the mountains, yet it seemed to belong to this landscape, as though it had been hewn from the very rock and snow around it. A thick layer of white frost clung to its steep sides, softening its edges and giving it an almost ethereal glow. Encircling the pyramid were multiple layers of tall, fortified walls, each tier slightly higher than the last, creating an intricate labyrinth of defense. Between these walls, squads of samurai patrolled diligently, their movements disciplined and deliberate.
As the group neared the outermost gate, two samurai emerged to meet them. They were imposing figures, clad in heavy, segmented plate armor that shimmered faintly in the cold light. The overlapping plates protected their shoulders, torsos, and thighs, while their gauntlets and shin guards bore intricate designs resembling coiled dragons and storm clouds. Horned helmets framed their masked faces, the lower halves obscured by respirators that gave them an almost otherworldly presence. These precautions, likely designed for protection against the poisons and tricks common among shinobi, added an extra layer of menace to their already imposing appearance.
The six travelers halted just before the gate, each cutting a striking figure in their own way:
Naruto stood slightly behind Gaara, bouncing on his heels despite the severity of the environment. His desert-brown robe swished lightly in the wind, and his cowl and transformation jutsu had done their work well. The tufts of red hair peeking out from beneath his hood and the darkened irises gave him the air of a seasoned Sunanin. Even so, his characteristic energy was unmistakable to anyone who knew him.
Beside him, Sasuke radiated quiet intensity. His cowl was pulled low, the shadow obscuring his face but for his dark, transformed eyes. Every movement he made was deliberate and measured, his posture taut with focus. Even in disguise, Sasuke's presence felt sharp, like the blade of a drawn katana.
Gaara, walking slightly ahead, moved with the calm authority of a leader. His golden eyes, unwavering and reflective, seemed to take in every detail around him. The flowing sand-colored robe he wore blended seamlessly into the snowy backdrop, save for the distinctive blue kanji for "love" on his forehead. Despite his smaller stature compared to the Raikage or even Naruto, Gaara's aura commanded respect.
Itachi was the epitome of poise and elegance. His ceremonial Hokage robes—a striking white and crimson—shimmered faintly under the sunlight, their fabric rippling lightly with each step. His Sharingan eyes, calm yet calculating, glowed faintly as they scanned the terrain and the samurai ahead. With his formal hat removed, his long black hair fell neatly across his back, adding to the air of quiet regality he carried.
Walking just behind him, Hinata appeared serene, though her violet aura betrayed a quiet intensity. Her shrine maiden robes, pristine and flowing, contrasted against the stark whites and grays of the environment. Her Byakugan eyes, soft yet sharp, took in every angle of their surroundings. Despite her calm exterior, she remained acutely aware of the weight of her role, standing behind Itachi as his chosen protector.
Tayuya, in stark contrast to Hinata's composed demeanor, exuded a rugged confidence. Her deep crimson hair spilled messily from beneath her hat, and her slightly loose, modified kunoichi attire gave her a roguish charm. She walked with a swagger, her eyes darting to the samurai with an air of mischief, as if daring them to comment on her presence. Yet, she remained in formation, her posture ready for anything.
The samurai stepped forward, their hands resting lightly on the hilts of their katana. Despite their unreadable expressions behind the masks, there was no mistaking the intensity of their scrutiny.
"Halt," one of the samurai commanded, his voice echoing through the respirator. "State your identities and purpose here."
Itachi stepped forward, his robes swaying lightly with his movement. "I am Uchiha Itachi, Godaime Hokage of Konohagakure," he said, his tone steady and authoritative. "With me are my guard and the Kazekage of Sunagakure, here to attend the Gokage Summit as summoned by the Shogun of the Land of Iron."
The samurai exchanged brief glances before nodding. "Welcome to the Sanrō," the second guard replied, his voice carrying an edge of formality. "Proceed to the inner gate. You will be escorted further from there."
With that, the gates creaked open, revealing the next stretch of the pathway toward the summit. The group moved forward in silence, the towering walls and distant echoes of samurai footsteps lending an air of gravity to the journey. Ahead of them, the pyramid temple glistened like a beacon, its snow-covered façade standing as a symbol of the decisions that would shape the future of the shinobi world.
The two groups were separated at the gates, the samurai leading Naruto, Sasuke, and Gaara toward a pathway on the left while Hinata, Tayuya, and Itachi were escorted to the right. Though they were ultimately heading to the same destination, this division seemed symbolic, a nod to the rigid formalities and traditions that defined the Land of Iron. The steady rhythm of the samurai's armored boots against the stone floors echoed through the fortress, a sound that underscored the gravity of their purpose here.
The interior of the fortress was no less impressive than its exterior. The hallways were wide and flanked by towering stone walls, each block carved with intricate patterns of waves and clouds that symbolized the harmony between strength and tranquility. Lanterns hung from the ceiling at evenly spaced intervals, their warm glow casting long shadows across the stone. Interspersed along the walls were alcoves housing suits of ceremonial armor and katana displayed with reverence, their polished blades catching the flickering light.
The deeper they went, the more the air seemed to shift, carrying a chill that hinted at the frozen peaks above. The fortress wasn't just a place of tradition; it was a bastion of discipline, every corner meticulously maintained. Samurai patrolled the halls in perfect synchronicity, their presence a silent reminder of the strength that safeguarded the neutrality of the Land of Iron.
After several minutes of walking, they were led into the heart of the pyramid-shaped temple. The summit chamber was a marvel in its own right. A vast, circular room with high, vaulted ceilings that seemed to stretch toward the heavens. Above, the pyramid's vaulted ceiling stretched upward, adorned with intricate carvings of wolves in motion, their forms intertwining with swirling clouds and cascading streams. The entire chamber was lit by an enormous circular skylight, allowing natural light to filter through, refracting slightly against the frosty edges of the glass to cast a faintly prismatic glow. The walls were lined with thick wooden beams, polished to a dark sheen, while the floors were covered in soft tatami mats that muted their footsteps.
A semicircular table, crafted from dark, polished wood, was set against the backdrop of the five great nations' symbols. Behind each seat, five enormous curtains hung equidistant around the perimeter of the room, each bearing the symbol of one of the great shinobi nations. The embroidery was immaculate, the symbols standing out in bold relief against their respective backgrounds: a red flame for the Land of Fire, an emerald sunburst for the Land of Wind, a brown mountain for the Land of Earth, a cobalt wave for the Land of Water, and a golden lightning bolt for the Land of Lightning. The curtains divided the room into distinct sections, allowing each Kage and their entourage a semblance of privacy before the proceedings began.
Hinata and Tayuya were directed toward the curtain emblazoned with the fire emblem. The thick fabric was heavy as the samurai held it aside to allow them entry. Inside their section, a low table was set with tea, and cushions were arranged neatly around it. The space was modest but functional, clearly designed to accommodate the needs of the Hokage and his guard without extravagance.
"Hokage-dono, please proceed to the center," one of the samurai instructed, bowing respectfully. Itachi gave a small nod and stepped forward, his Hokage robes flowing elegantly as he moved toward the center of the chamber.
Hinata and Tayuya remained behind the curtain, their role now one of quiet observation. The air was heavy with anticipation, the unspoken tension of so many powerful figures converging in one place palpable.
Hinata resisted the urge to activate her Nichiren Byakugan. While her natural instinct was to assess her surroundings, she knew such an action might be perceived as a provocation. The Land of Iron prided itself on neutrality and formality, and the last thing they needed was for any nation to misinterpret their actions.
Tayuya leaned casually against the edge of the curtain, her arms crossed, though her sharp eyes betrayed her feigned nonchalance. "This place is too damn quiet," she muttered under her breath. Hinata didn't respond, her focus fixed on maintaining her composure. The chamber was steeped in an atmosphere of both history and tension, a reminder that the decisions made here could shape the future of the shinobi world.
As the five Kage took their places, their movements deliberate and heavy with purpose, Hinata stood behind the fire curtain alongside Tayuya. Her heart raced, her eyes fixed on the proceedings.
This was the first time in decades that all the leaders of the great nations had come together, and she was here—standing on the precipice of history. Yet, despite the monumental significance of the moment, a growing sense of unease began to creep over her, a chill that had nothing to do with the icy air that lingered in the room.
The Gokage presented a stark contrast to one another, their personalities almost tangible even in silence. Itachi, seated in the center, exuded calm authority, his Hokage robes concealing most of his form save for his lower face. He sat with perfect posture, his movements measured, the scarlet glow of his Sharingan faintly visible under the brim of his ceremonial hat.
To his left, the Raikage was impossible to ignore. His sheer size dwarfed the others, his muscles threatening to burst through the seams of his robes. He had an aura of controlled power, his dark-skinned jaw clenched as he surveyed the room like a hawk circling for prey. At the farthest left, Gaara, the youngest of them all, sat with quiet dignity. His single visible eye beneath his hat betrayed a wisdom and resolve beyond his years, though the simplicity of his recovered attire reminded everyone of Sunagakure's recent tragedy.
On Itachi's right, the Tsuchikage's robes hung slightly loose, yet giving an impression of latent strength. Beside him, the Mizukage sat quietly, his frame draped in robes that concealed much of his identity, offering no hints about his thoughts or allegiances. Both figures exuded an enigmatic air, their silence more unnerving than any spoken word.
At the table in front of them sat the Shogun of the Land of Iron. He radiated a composed strength, his gray hair and weathered features a testament to years of experience. His simple, purple attire spoke to his neutral authority, and the sharpness of his gaze was a reminder that he was not a man to be underestimated. Behind him, the six samurai stood like sentinels, their gleaming armor catching the light. Two of them stood out, their faces uncovered—one with a deep scar above his brow and the other bearing a striking dragon tattoo that wound its way across his bald head.
The Shogun's voice, steady and commanding, broke the tense silence. "I am Mifune, Shogun of the Land of Iron. I will preside over these proceedings." He gestured with a hand, his words calm but firm. "Now then, place your ceremonial headpieces upon the table, and the Gokage Summit shall commence."
The five Kage moved in unison, removing their ceremonial hats and placing them on the table in front of them. The markings of Fire, Wind, Lightning, Earth, and Water stood together, a rare and symbolic union that represented the fragile balance of their world.
Yet, as the hats were lifted, Hinata's breath caught in her throat. Her attention snapped to the Mizukage, who had been the most enigmatic figure among them until this moment. The man removed his hat with a calm, deliberate motion, and when his face was revealed, it was as if the air had been sucked from the room.
The scars were unmistakable. The right side of his face was marred by deep ridges and a sunken eye socket with the unmistakable crimson glow of the Sharingan. His mismatched eyes swept the room before stopping as though drawn to her gasp, piercing through the fire curtain with a calculated intensity.
Hinata's stomach churned. The figure seated as the Mizukage wasn't a stranger. It was Uchiha Obito, the man who had orchestrated so much of the chaos they now sought to mend.
Obito's lips curled into the faintest semblance of a smirk as if he were savoring her shock. Her body froze, her mind scrambling to reconcile what she was seeing. He had promised her they would meet again, but this—this was beyond anything she could have anticipated.
Beside her, Tayuya stiffened, sensing the shift in Hinata's demeanor. "What's wrong?" she hissed, her voice low and edged with concern.
Hinata couldn't answer. The significance of the moment was overwhelming. This wasn't just the start of a historic summit—it was a battlefield disguised as diplomacy. And Obito was already two steps ahead.