As spring deepened into summer, the shinobi world remained trapped in an illusion of peace. Just as commodity prices were beginning to stabilize, a single event struck the world like a boulder dropped into a still lake, sending ripples of chaos across the five nations.
The son and daughter-in-law of Chiyo, the venerable consultant of Sunagakure, had been murdered near the border. Witnesses reported a flash of brilliant white light that tore through the night sky at the junction of the Land of Wind and the Land of Fire, illuminating the world as bright as day before vanishing into the shadows.
Technically, the incident occurred at the border between the Land of Rivers and the Land of Rain—both of which served as buffer states between the two superpowers—but in the eyes of the great villages, these small nations were little more than geographical footnotes.
Despite Sunagakure mobilizing dozens of elites to hunt the culprit across a thousand miles, they ultimately only managed to uncover his identity:
A member of the Konohagakure Anbu and a personal guard to the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi—Hatake Sakumo.
In the blink of an eye, Sunagakure fired off three consecutive diplomatic protests, condemning the act and demanding the surrender of the killer. But before Konoha could even formulate a response, more protests came flooding in.
The Cloud Village of the Land of Lightning, the Mist Village of the Land of Water, and the Rock Village of the Land of Earth all joined the chorus. They accused Konoha of sending a shinobi to assassinate their respective village elites, and the culprit was always the same man.
Overnight, Hatake Sakumo became the most talked-about ninja in the world. Due to the strange phenomenon on the night he killed Chiyo's children, he was given a moniker that would soon strike fear into the hearts of all: Konoha's White Fang.
While the world condemned the "White Fang" for senseless slaughter and accused the Third Hokage of instigating a world war, Konoha issued its own diplomatic response.
The village sent the dossiers and intelligence gathered by Sakumo, Jiraiya, and other Jonin over the past year regarding the truth of the Land of Whirlpools' destruction directly to the Daimyos and Kage of the other four great nations. The men Sakumo had assassinated were the very individuals responsible for the genocide of the Uzumaki clan.
As soon as this document was released, the Cloud, Mist, and Rock villages—who had been shouting the loudest alongside Suna—suddenly went quiet. It was as if they had never spoken at all.
Technically, Konoha's justification wasn't much of a legal defense. The Land of Whirlpools had already been destroyed; although the Land of Fire was its ally, that alliance had effectively expired the moment the nation fell. Konoha's actions were unilateral, and the "investigation" into Uzushiogakure wasn't a valid legal pretext for assassination.
However, the reason the three villages stopped responding was simple: the truth was unsightly. One wrong move in the diplomatic arena could severely damage their national interests.
A hidden village's economy relies on two pillars: funding from the Daimyo and mission commissions. These commissions come from individuals, lords, and—crucially—other nations. Smaller countries without the military might to sustain their own hidden villages spent massive portions of their budgets hiring the Great Five for protection.
If the scandal of them conspiring to wipe out a small nation like the Land of Whirlpools became public, they would lose the trust of these "client states," costing them millions in annual revenue.
Konoha had played its hand perfectly. By sending the diplomatic notes only to the leadership of the Great Five, they had kept the scandal quiet—for now. It was a veiled threat: If you keep making a scene, we'll take this public.
The wisest move for the three villages was to shut up, let the matter slide, and keep making money from the smaller nations. None of them were so short on elites that they would risk a global financial crisis over one or two dead men.
Thus, a tacit understanding was reached. They chose to "forget" the incident, trading a few dead shinobi for the spoils they had already looted from Uzushiogakure. It was a bargain.
Only Sunagakure refused to let go. Chiyo's status in Suna was simply too high. Though she had intentionally receded into the background in recent years to clear the path for the Third Kazekage, no one in the village dared to ignore her.
Ignoring Konoha's hints, Sunagakure kept its elite pursuit teams stationed right at the border of the Land of Fire. News broke that Chiyo had finally come out of retirement, and the Third Kazekage was continuously funneling reinforcements to the border. Clearly, Suna had no intention of letting this end quietly.
Inside the Hokage Building, the Third Hokage was locked in a meeting with the village consultants. Meanwhile, the man praised by many as a hero, Hatake Sakumo, was slumped in a chair outside the Mission Hall, looking half-dead.
He had sprinted a thousand miles to strike down Suna's elites, then fled another thousand miles while being hounded by their pursuit teams. To be honest... all he wanted to do was sleep.
Unfortunately, the world wasn't that kind. He had reported for his debriefing the moment he hit the village gates. Now, Hiruzen and the elders were conferring, and a Jonin Council meeting was likely to follow. He couldn't afford to be absent. He could only huddle in a corner and try to catch a few winks so he wouldn't pass out mid-meeting.
At the same time, Tatsuma arrived at the Mission Hall. He was there to hand in a report; usually, this was Tsunade's job, but as soon as they entered the village, his master had been summoned elsewhere.
The mission desk ninjas weren't sticklers for bureaucracy and allowed Tatsuma, a Genin, to complete the paperwork. A few minutes later, clutching the mission completion receipt and the pay, Tatsuma turned to leave.
As he walked out of the hall, he spotted the slumped figure of Hatake Sakumo nearby. He walked over slowly and spoke in a quiet voice. "Sakumo-sama?"
"Gah!"
Sakumo's body jerked. His right hand instinctively flew to the short sword strapped to his back. Only when he realized it was Tatsuma did he exhale, his hand dropping as he forced a weary smile. He looked the boy over. "Just finished a mission?"
"Yeah. A C-rank escort. Nothing too crazy."
"Same here," Sakumo said, running a hand through his hair and yawning. "Nothing too crazy."
Tatsuma smiled. "Sakumo-sama, I've heard the rumors. You probably don't even know you've been given a nickname, do you? 'Konoha's White Fang.'"
"White Fang?" Sakumo looked genuinely confused. He hadn't stopped for breath on the way back; he'd had no time to check his own "trending" status.
Tatsuma nodded and sat down next to him. "That's right. They say that on the night you finished the mission, you swung your chakra blade and unleashed a white flash that lit up the entire night sky—like a white fang piercing the darkness."
"Ah..." Sakumo opened his mouth, unsure how to respond.
Tatsuma leaned in a bit closer and whispered, "Between you and me, Sakumo-sama... were you just having trouble controlling the output on that new chakra blade? With your skills, there's no way you'd make that much noise during an assassination on purpose, right?"
"Ahem... well... you see... the thing is... yeah. Basically... that."
Sakumo's hand seemed unable to stay still; he scratched his head, rubbed his nose, and wiped his face in rapid succession. His explanation was barely coherent.
Tatsuma let out a bright grin. He knew he had hit the nail on the head. But when he saw Sakumo's eyes narrow with a slightly threatening (and embarrassed) glint, he immediately smoothed his expression.
"Sakumo-sama," Tatsuma said solemnly, "using a brilliant flash of light as a signal of the mission's end—to declare that the matter of the Land of Whirlpools is finished, while simultaneously displaying Konoha's might to deter the rest of the world... it truly is an admirable strategy!"
"Huh?" Sakumo's eyes widened. He looked at Tatsuma's sudden "revelation," and then began to mull over the excuse the boy had just handed him on a silver platter. A moment later, a smile returned to his face, and he clapped Tatsuma on the back of the neck.
"Haha! I knew you were a genius among the new generation. I'm glad someone understands my deeper intentions!"
Tatsuma could only smile along. But then, his tone shifted. "Though, Sakumo-senpai, I'm afraid I won't have much of a chance to use that short sword you gave me."
"Why not?" Sakumo blinked, his sleep-deprived brain struggling to keep up with the conversation.
Tatsuma looked wistful. "You've made such a massive name for yourself. If I use your blade and do a poor job, wouldn't I be dragging your reputation through the mud? Besides, I don't know the first thing about Kenjutsu. If I go around waving a gift from the White Fang without knowing what I'm doing, I'll just attract unwanted attention. If I get killed, it'll be a stain on your legendary name."
Sakumo pursed his lips. "I... suppose I didn't think that through. However, I don't want you to treat my blade like a museum piece. Tell you what—I'll compile my personal techniques and experience into a set of notes for you. Study them well. If you have questions, come find me. No need to be a stranger."
"Really, Sakumo-sama?!"
"Would I lie to you?"