Tensions had already reached a boiling point long before the Second Great Ninja War officially began. The balance between the great shinobi nations had shattered—peace was no longer anything more than a fading memory.
Each hidden village had begun quietly deploying its shinobi to the borders of neighboring countries. Patrols clashed under the cover of night. Ambushes were sprung in the rain-drenched forests of the Land of Grass. Though no nation had declared war outright, blood had already been spilled, and it was clear to every Kage that the inevitable could no longer be delayed.
Among those preparing for the coming conflict was the First Tsuchikage, Ishiguro, a stern and calculating leader. Within the stone-clad chambers of the Tsuchikage's Mansion, he and his closest advisors had spent countless hours arguing over strategy—particularly about how to deal with Konoha, the Hidden Leaf.
One faction pushed for a direct assault: cut through the Land of Rain quickly, and strike into the heart of the Fire Country before Konoha could properly respond. But others argued for a more strategic approach—occupy the Land of Rain first and use its terrain as a natural advantage in the war. That plan, however, meant the conflict would unfold not in Konoha's homeland, but on neutral ground, dragging the Rain Country into a war it had not asked for.
Their deliberations continued deep into the night. A frontal assault risked heavy casualties and would stretch supply lines too far into enemy territory. After much heated debate, a grim consensus was reached: Iwagakure would use the Land of Rain as the battlefield.
The Rain Country's unpredictable storms, treacherous ravines, and dense forests would serve as natural defenses and camouflage. It would favor Iwa's earth-style specialists while forcing enemy shinobi into terrain they could not fully control. Still, some among the advisors voiced concern over the impact on civilians. Strategies were proposed to minimize collateral damage—but everyone present knew the truth. Innocent lives would be lost. The war demanded sacrifices.
Meanwhile, Iwagakure's border forces worked tirelessly to prepare. Their temporary outposts had become miniature fortresses, built with stone walls and hardened resolve. At that time, they were manned by a formidable force: 30 Jōnin, 200 Chūnin, and 450 Genin—a potent combination of leadership, skill, and youthful zeal. And reinforcements were on the way—25 more Jōnin, 130 Chūnin, and 330 Genin, all scheduled to arrive within days.
The Jōnin were to lead and strategize. The Chūnin, experts in tracking, healing, and sabotage, would support the frontlines. The Genin, though young, had been trained for this moment. War would harden them—or consume them.
But amidst this careful preparation, political schemes were brewing in the heart of the village.
Onoki, the ambitious apprentice of the Tsuchikage, had approached his master with a bold request. He wanted his student—Arano, a highly skilled Jōnin—to be granted full operational freedom during the war. Onoki proposed forming a special unit, handpicked by Arano himself, that would operate outside the usual chain of command. They would carry out independent missions critical to Iwa's victory.
The Tsuchikage initially refused. Granting that kind of autonomy during wartime was dangerous. But Onoki was relentless. He reminded the old Kage of the political reality: if the Tsuchikage lost Onoki's support, he risked dividing the village at the worst possible moment.
Reluctantly, the Tsuchikage gave in.
With his request granted, Onoki wasted no time. Arano began assembling his squad—elite Jōnin loyal to him alone. It was a power move, but more than that, it was a gamble to cement Arano's future.
Onoki's true goal was to raise Arano's reputation during the war. He wanted Arano to be remembered—not just as a skilled shinobi, but as a hero of Iwagakure. Arano would face powerful enemies, win impossible battles, and lead with fearlessness and cunning. He had to become a name whispered with reverence by both shinobi and civilians alike. Someone who would never retreat, who could read the battlefield like a book and outsmart his foes at every turn.
If all went according to plan, the war would be Arano's proving ground—and his rise to legend.
But that was the official version of events.
The truth… was something darker.
It was on the night of the first offensive that everything changed.
Inside a dimly lit command tent near the border, a war council had been called. The elder Jōnin in charge had demanded the presence of all ranking shinobi. Arano hadn't been required to attend, but he came anyway. He wanted to see the faces of those about to shape the war.
The plan was revealed with cold precision. The assault would begin that very night. Their objective: to advance deep into the Rain Country and cripple its defenses before Konoha could react.
If Konoha sent reinforcements to stop them, the Iwa shinobi were to plant traps, sabotage supply lines, and seize key terrain before the enemy could entrench themselves.
Orders were distributed, and the Jōnin present received the details in stoic silence. They knew the weight of what was coming.
As the signal to attack was given, Iwagakure's elite vanished into the shadows, their chakra suppressed, their blades sharpened. They moved like ghosts through the cold rain, splitting into smaller units as they neared enemy checkpoints.
By dawn, every outpost along the Rain Country's eastern border had fallen. The initial push was a success.
But Arano had his own mission.
While most Iwagakure forces were engaging Amegakure's defenders, Arano led a separate team—composed entirely of elite Jōnin. Among them was Han, the feared Jinchūriki of the Five-Tails, a Kamizuru clan member , and Arano's long-time comrade. These shinobi were loyal to Arano, not to the Tsuchikage.
Thanks to Onoki, they had been granted total autonomy—and they would use it to secure their future.
Their objective was not to destroy Amegakure's forces… but to plunder its wealth.
War, after all, created opportunity. Merchants, nobles, black market dealers—many rich targets lived within the Rain Country's borders. With Onoki's help, Arano had obtained intelligence on their locations.
Their plan was simple: infiltrate, steal, and disappear.
Wearing all-black uniforms and masks that concealed their identities, the unit moved like phantoms. While they intended to avoid harming civilians, Arano had made one thing clear—if anyone resisted, they would be eliminated, along with their families. No mercy. No witnesses.
To Arano, these actions weren't war crimes—they were strategy. Weakening the enemy, destabilizing its economy, and funding their own cause was, in his mind, a necessary evil.
A portion of the stolen funds would be used to place bounties on Konoha's high-value shinobi. Another portion would go toward post-war initiatives in Iwagakure. The rest would be split among Arano's team. This was more than war—it was business.
Meanwhile, in Konohagakure…
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, sat in silence as ANBU knelt before him, reporting grim news.
"Iwagakure has invaded the Land of Rain," the masked agent said.
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed. It had begun.
The Hokage leaned back, letting out a deep sigh. War would come whether he wanted it or not. The invasion of the Rain Country was more than a border conflict—it was a declaration. Konoha could not sit idly by while Iwa expanded unchecked.
With a heavy heart, he gave the order: dispatch the shinobi stationed along the border. Reinforce the Rain Country. Halt the Stone Village's advance.
A war was coming. One that would reshape the shinobi world.
And deep in the shadows of that war, men like Arano would carve their legacy in blood and fire.