Night had fallen.

Inside the Allied Shinobi Forces' main camp, within the command tent of the Cloud contingent, a mournful tune drifted through the air.

"Morning drills at the training ground

The Raikage's voice calls us to gather

I'm five minutes late

And big bro's scolding me again…"

Ever since the tragedy that befell the Cloud days ago, Killer B hadn't rapped once.

Instead… he sang folk ballads.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached outside. The song cut off.

B took off his sunglasses and gently polished the lenses with his sleeve, as if wiping away the shimmer of moisture at the corners of his eyes.

"Lord B," Darui lifted the tent flap, his golden hair tousled by the night wind. He hesitated, looking at the Cloud commander before him.

B slid his sunglasses back on, hiding the tears. His voice was steady. "Darui. What is it?"

Darui took a deep breath. "Sir… don't you think your attitude toward the Hokage has been a bit too deferential? Even if the Cloud is in a weakened position now…"

Clearly, Darui had come to offer counsel.

B waved a hand, cutting him off, and said quietly but firmly, "Darui… when you're under someone else's roof, sometimes you have to bow your head."

The bitter truth silenced Darui, though in his heart he still hated the idea of the Cloud trailing after the Leaf like a shadow.

These days, even their temporary headquarters building was leased from the Leaf. They had less independence than even the Sand.

Could they really have a future like this?

At the very least… they should keep their dignity.

That thought darkened Darui's expression further.

B noticed, sighed, and spoke more softly. "The shinobi world needs to stay unstable, Darui. Only in chaos will the Cloud truly have a chance to rebuild."

His voice was low, but clear enough for Darui to hear every word.

Darui stared at him, eyes wide in shock. The man before him suddenly felt like a stranger.

So all that apparent deference… was really patience. And provocation.

The reckless, sometimes irresponsible "rap guy" Darui had always known was showing a new face.

"…So, this time…" Darui began, still uncertain.

"Preserve our strength," B said through gritted teeth. His voice dropped to a cold murmur. "For now, let go of the hatred. At least… don't throw everything we have into taking revenge on the Akatsuki."

"After this battle, the Mist and that old fossil Ōnoki won't stay quiet either."

As for the Sand, B thought, their back had been broken ever since that chunin exam. No need to worry about them.

"And… if we do take down the Akatsuki, and the chance comes…" B's voice sank even lower. "We try to claim as many Tailed Beasts as we can."

B's eyes glinted beneath the glasses. He would bide his time, swallowing humiliation, until the day came for vengeance and the Cloud's rebirth. Only then would he pick up rap again.

Darui nodded slowly, deep in thought.

For a moment, the figure of the Fourth Raikage seemed to overlap with Killer B's. The clownish sidekick of yesterday was becoming something else entirely something forged in the shadows.

"Get some rest, Darui," B said in a deep voice. "Tomorrow… the real fight begins."

Darui gave him a long, searching look, then bowed and left the tent. The night wind flung sand and grit against his face. He paused, glancing back.

Inside, the melancholy ballad had begun again.

"Thirty years of life this way

Until the Cloud came crashing down

The darkness deep in the clouds

Has swallowed the view inside my heart

Killer B still sings

The Raikage's far away

And when the storm has passed

Who will carry on this song… drip… drop-drop-drop…"

The sound stirred something heavy in Darui's chest.

He stood there a long time before letting out a long sigh and walking away. The night wind roared past, swirling fallen leaves into the dark.

…

Mist Village Command Tent

"Man, whose sad-sack singing is that? Even a dog would cry," Ao muttered, shaking his head at the Mizukage, Mei Terumi.

Lounging in her seat, Mei tapped a slender finger against the armrest in time with the mournful melody.

"Oh? I think it's rather nice," she said with a faint smile. "To keep one's artistic heart alive on the battlefield that's not easy."

"Hmph. Not a patch on traditional opera," Ao snorted, stepping over to the map table. "Mizukage-sama, this battle feels off."

Mei's gaze sharpened new to the title, she had to take her veterans' insights seriously.

Ao continued, "Both sides are holding back far too much. This isn't how shinobi fight. If they were really afraid of large-scale jutsu, they'd move the fight into the streets of Amegakure and crush the enemy with sheer numbers before surrounding their core."

He shifted the colored kunai on the map, frowning. "But what we've got now two armies facing off, trading formal challenges it's like we're back in the Warring States era… no, even earlier, the age of samurai."

Mei nodded thoughtfully.

"And the Leaf… something's off there too."

She had noticed it as well. "They brought far too few people. And aside from the Hokage's personal ANBU, every single Leaf ninja here is a named elite."

No genin. No chūnin. No disposable grunts.

In a drawn-out, messy war, fodder troops had their uses throwing lives at the front could yield valuable intel for the main force.

"And then…" Ao hesitated before speaking more quietly. "Kisame Hoshigaki has thrown in with the Leaf. I used the Byakugan to check their ANBU squad… and I saw him."

Mei's fingers tightened on her teacup. Porcelain cracked. Tea spilled across her skirt, unnoticed.

"I see," she said darkly. "No wonder the Leaf refused to return Samehada or Kisame to us."

Outside, the sorrowful singing still carried on.

Mei stared into the flicker of the candle, a mix of emotions crossing her eyes. She had once considered persuading Kisame to return to the Mist even offering a pardon. With the village in such need, they could ill afford to waste talent.

But now, that Mist defector had already pledged himself to the Leaf.

Ao shook his head. "No telling what the Leaf offered him. Mizukage-sama, when you visited the Leaf, he'd only just been captured."

A sneer curled his lip. "Maybe he just wanted to save his own skin."

Mei exhaled heavily. "We can't do much about it. Economically, we rely too much on the Leaf right now."

Rubbing her temple, she frowned.

The Land of Fire had the richest lands in the shinobi world, and its daimyō was famously supportive of the Leaf. But to this extent?

Rumor had it the Fire daimyō hadn't bought new clothes in ages, had cut his food budget again and again, and worked late into the night every day. Was he truly that devoted?

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