Mei Terumī knew Kirigakure was in a terrible state—truly terrible.
Compared to the other Great Shinobi Villages, the Hidden Mist was like a crumbling facade, held together only by cruelty and fear, pretending to still be a major power when in reality, it was hollow on the inside.
Even so, Mei still held hope.
Because no matter how twisted the Blood Mist had become, this was still her home.
And she wasn't alone.
Many in the village were trying—fighting—to make things better.
They had gone to war to secure resources, to stop being strangled by the other villages' influence.
They had believed that by gaining ground, Kirigakure could rise again.
Now, with back-to-back victories, they had finally seen a glimmer of that dream.
If things continued like this, maybe, just maybe, they could reshape this broken place into something closer to their ideals.
But Yoru's words tore through that illusion—ripping off the warm, idealistic mask and exposing the bloodstained truth underneath.
"...So what are you planning to do?" Mei asked softly.
"Overthrow Yagura? Seize command and lead us to victory… then return home and dismantle the corrupted regime? Rebuild the village from scratch?"
Yoru gave her a look like she'd just suggested writing fanfiction.
"You been watching too many stage plays?"
That one sentence deflated the emotion Mei had been building. She almost laughed from how absurdly dismissive it was.
"The further you go down the wrong road, the further you are from success," Yoru said flatly.
"Besides, I can't lead the Mist to victory. That's just not realistic."
"Minato Namikaze and the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki—those two together are practically unbeatable on the battlefield."
"The fact that we've managed to last this long against them isn't because I'm some genius, or because our forces are strong. It's because Konoha is too wrapped up in their own rules, friendships, and moral codes to fight at full capacity."
"But if those two ever decide to fight with no restraints…"
"Just those two alone could end the Third Great Ninja War."
Mei opened her mouth to argue.
But she couldn't find a single point to refute.
Space-time ninjutsu with unparalleled mobility.
Combined with the raw power of the strongest Tailed Beast.
That's not just a threat—that's a walking natural disaster.
"There's no countermeasure?" she asked quietly.
In theory, there were many ways to neutralize Flying Thunder God.
But in actual combat? Useless.
Minato's reaction time is too fast
Even during the Fourth Great Ninja War in the original timeline, he was able to instantly teleport five Truth-Seeking Balls away from Madara—while assisting Might Guy in Eight Gate form.
That kind of reaction speed? Even Yoru had to admit: the guy was a timing monster.
What about Genjutsu specialists like Itachi?
Maybe. A top-tier illusion like Tsukuyomi could hypothetically work.
But reality? Probably not.
You imagine a tense, careful duel—Minato wary of genjutsu, feinting, probing for an opening… but in reality? It might go like this:
Itachi sees a kunai land by his foot. Doesn't even finish lifting his eyes.
Minato's already behind him, blade through his neck.
After all…
Even Obito—empowered by Hashirama's cells and Mangekyō Sharingan—couldn't track Minato's movements.
What chance did anyone else have?
Sure, if it was just Yoru versus Minato one-on-one, he'd win—Hyōrinmaru's abilities were a natural counter to flashy speed tactics.
And once Minato teamed up with the Nine-Tails jinchūriki? Without full Bankai, even Yoru had to retreat.
It's simple: unless someone at the level of Madara or Hashirama showed up, no one could stop them.
And even those two
They'd have to catch them first.
"The best way to deal with space-time jutsu is sealing and barrier techniques," Yoru said. "But not just any—you'd need the most elite fuinjutsu and fūinjutsu specialists out there."
He shook his head. "But if the enemy travels with Kushina Uzumaki, then forget it. Her sealing skills—and the Nine-Tails itself—make traditional barriers basically useless."
"There's nothing we can do… except hope they keep holding back."
"That's why I shifted strategies," he continued. "Play to our strengths. Avoid direct confrontation. Build momentum elsewhere. Fighting them head-on is suicide."
"There's really no counter?" Mei murmured. "What about persuading Lord Yagura?"
Yoru gave her a look.
"Why do you think I'm this pissed?"
"No one can stop someone who's desperate to rise to power," he said coldly. "The Third Mizukage is old. Yagura's made a ton of mistakes during this war. If he doesn't cash in on the momentum now, he has no shot at becoming the Fourth."
"He knows the risks. But he believes in my strength. He believes Mist will win this war."
"And as long as he thinks we'll win, he's willing to risk any number of lives to get his promotion."
Yoru's lips curled into a bitter smirk.
"The problem is… I think we'll lose. Not because I'm throwing the fight. But because I'll go all-out… and still lose."
Mei stared at Yoru, his face cold and detached.
"There has to be something we can do," she said quietly. "We can't just sit and watch it happen."
"There's nothing," Yoru replied. "When an illness has rotted to the bone, the only cure is to scrape it clean. Burn it away. Tear it down and start over."
"If this war fails, many will die…"
Mei's lips trembled. "There's really nothing we can do?"
Yoru looked at the pale-faced girl and slowly shook his head.
"I know it's hard to accept. But that's the reality. That's what's coming."
"Of course, I hope I'm wrong. If Yagura somehow wins big after all this? I'll congratulate him myself."
"But if it goes the way I expect…"
"Then let blood and death wash away the cursed mist that's shrouded this village for too long"