---
Dawn crept over the horizon in quiet shades of blue and gray as Akari stood once again on the ridge overlooking the rebel encampment. The forest below stirred faintly, but the camp itself remained motionless—an uneasy stillness that reminded him of a held breath before a storm.
His cloak fluttered behind him, black silk trimmed with silver. This time, he wore no forehead protector. No emblem of allegiance.
Only the sword at his back—and the words he hadn't yet decided how to say.
He descended slowly, hands in clear view. Shinobi eyes watched him from the trees, but none attacked. A silent signal passed between them.
He had been expected.
---
Inside the encampment, Kuroyama sat cross-legged by a low fire. Around him, his captains stood like stone figures, each face unreadable. Yet it was the leader's expression that mattered most.
And Kuroyama looked… calm.
"You returned," he said without emotion.
"I said I would," Akari replied.
The fire crackled between them. No guards moved. No blades were drawn. It felt more like a shrine than a battlefield.
Akari sat down opposite him.
"I'm not here to bring an ultimatum," he said. "I'm here because this can't end with fire."
Kuroyama raised a brow. "It began with fire."
"I know. And you think Konoha's peace is a lie built on ash. But if it burns… we'll lose everything—again."
"Then change the fire," Kuroyama said simply. "You stand at the side of men who speak of unity while planting flags on graves."
"I've stood beside them," Akari admitted. "And I've questioned them. But Konoha isn't just Madara. It's not even just Hashirama's dream. It's the children training in the square. The old merchants on the street. The orphans who finally sleep without fearing the next raid."
He looked Kuroyama in the eyes.
"I won't let that burn. But I won't let it rot, either."
There was silence. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
One of Kuroyama's lieutenants scoffed. "Pretty words. Will they stop steel?"
Akari didn't flinch. "I carry steel, too. And I'll use it if I must. But not today."
Kuroyama studied him for a long time.
"You want to offer peace?"
"I want to offer a path that doesn't end in more graves."
"And what would that look like?"
"Talks," Akari said. "Under guard, but without tricks. Not in the shadows. You and the Hokage. Face to face."
Kuroyama's eyes narrowed. "You think Madara will speak?"
Akari nodded. "He respects strength. And he knows power without stability is fleeting. He's not the same man from the war."
Kuroyama looked down at the fire, the flames reflected in his eyes.
"Then I'll meet him," he said quietly. "But only once."
Akari stood.
"That's all we need."
---
As he left the camp, the sun finally broke through the clouds, lighting the forest in soft gold. Behind him, a hundred pairs of eyes watched him go.
Ahead, Konoha waited.
And between them—he walked the path of a bridge, not yet broken.