Kirigakure Gamer : Rise of the mist-Chapter 45: War of choices

[Island of Steel, Kirigakure War Council Tent]

The room was dimly lit, the flickering light of oil lamps casting shadows across the faces of the six jonins and, of course, Elder Otuka, who used to be one of the seven legendary swordsmen of Kiri.

Maps and reports lay scattered across the table. The scent of old parchment was mingling with the salty air unique to the island of steeling, giving an eerie, lost sense of self.

Otuka stood at the head of the table, his hands gripping its edges as he stared down at the grim report.

A younger jonin, Hisao, broke the heavy silence. "Otuka-sensei...Operation Hydra was leaked. Our spies in Kumogakure just conveyed us the deployment of ambush squads from Kumogakure. They tricked us. The survivors from another patrol reported seeing the Two-Tails"

Otuka's jaw tightened, his scarred face unreadable. He said nothing, his eyes boring into the table as if willing the report to change.

Hisao hesitated, then added, "The tailed beast was sighted on coordinates 188, 287. Commander, what are your orders? Will we—"

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"No," Otuka cut him off sharply, his voice cold and unyielding. "We will not waste time chasing that beast. The Kumogakure most likely never expected the jinchuriki to lose control, and unless an S-class shinobi comes down to the Island of Steel, we have no means of confronting it without suffering casualties"

The room erupted into murmurs of disbelief. Another jonin, a woman named Kaede Funato, spoke up. "Commander, these are the coordinates of Takeshi Ryu's squad. Takeshi is a genius, and your student—"

"Is dead," Otuka snapped, his gaze sweeping the room like a blade. "Dead, like the rest of those who sacrificed themselves in the Operation Hydra. Mourning them won't win this war, Kaede."

Kaede's expression hardened. "You trained them. You taught them loyalty. Are we now to discard our own like broken weapons? If the Kumogakure jinchuriki transformed, it means they are fighting right this instant!"

"Broken weapons," Otuka echoed, his voice low and venomous. "Yes. That is exactly what they are. This isn't about loyalty or sentiment. This is about Kirigakure. The mission. Do you think Kumo will hesitate to exploit even a moment of weakness because we're weeping over a handful of lost shinobi?"

Hisao frowned. "But the Two-Tails is still out there, Otuka-sensei, just like your students. If it isn't dealt with—"

"Let it roam," Otuka interrupted. "It's not our problem. Yugito Nii and her beast are too dangerous to engage without careful preparation. My student is dead. His team too—" He paused, correcting himself, "—their sacrifice gave us something valuable. The ambush thinned the Kumo settlement's defense. As for the rest of their forces, they are going to escape the North Coast. As previously said, they are likely helpless against a jinchuriki who lost herself"

Kaede's eyes narrowed. "You're saying we exploit their deaths?"

"I'm saying we strike Kumogakure where it hurts," Otuka said firmly. "Immediately. The rest of the platoon will mobilize. We'll hit their outpost on the eastern shore tonight. No hesitation, no mercy. Let them believe we're reeling from this loss—they'll never see it coming. Tonight, we hunt. Sensors will scan through the island and kill all kumo deserters."

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Otuka's words hung heavy, cutting through whatever remnants of protest lingered. He straightened, folding his arms behind his back.

"Takeshi and Naya were good shinobi," he said after a moment, his voice softer but no less resolute. "Good, but not irreplaceable. None of us are. The Third Mizukage didn't send us here to weep over graves. He sent us to win. If any of you doubt that, speak now."

No one did. The jonin exchanged wary glances, then nodded reluctantly. Kaede's lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing more.

"Good," Otuka said. "Prepare your squads. I'll draft the plan for the assault. We move at sundown."

He turned away, dismissing the others with a sharp gesture. As they filed out of the room, Otuka remained at the table, staring down at the map and the hastily scribbled report. His grip on the table's edge tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"Forgive me, Takeshi," he muttered under his breath, so low no one could hear. "But the dead don't win wars. The living do."