Naruto: I Became a Sword Saint in Konoha

If he just nudged Hoshiyomi's blade upward by one centimeter, he could rupture his own poison sac—and take down these four dangerous young Konoha shinobi, along with a large portion of the Leaf's forces.

Was that the choice he was going to make?

As he wavered, Hoshiyomi suddenly smiled and looked up at him.

"Hanzō, did you ever think this war would go this far? Or do you regret accepting our challenge?"

Hanzō froze, glancing down at the blade still lodged in his gut, then raising his eyes to the battlefield strewn with the dead and dying on both sides.

He couldn't deny it—regret was beginning to take root in his heart.

Hoshiyomi continued calmly:

"At the start, both sides had nearly five hundred shinobi each. But now? There aren't even two hundred left between us. Did you ever picture this outcome?"

Hanzō opened his mouth but couldn't speak. Inwardly, though, he knew the answer.

No. He never imagined it would become like this.

He had thought that with himself and Ibuse on the field, the Hidden Rain couldn't possibly lose too badly. But things hadn't gone as planned. Ibuse had barely contributed before being defeated, and he had vastly underestimated the difference in combat skill between his own troops and the Konoha shinobi.

Most of all, he never imagined that he—Hanzō of the Salamander—would be bested by a mere youngster.

If he could go back in time, he would have never accepted this battle.

Even if it meant disgrace, he would have refused. The casualties were already beyond anything he could stomach.

Though both sides had lost about the same number of shinobi, that didn't mean they were in balance.

Konoha could bear the loss of 300 shinobi—it would sting, but it wasn't fatal. But for Hanzō, losing 300 of his men was like losing half his life.

With these troops gone, what would happen after the war?

Konoha wasn't the only one pressuring the Hidden Rain. Iwagakure and Sunagakure were still watching from the shadows, waiting to pounce. Without his forces, how would he defend his borders? How would he feed the refugees in Amegakure—people with no food stores left at all?

These thoughts weighed on him like a mountain pressing against his spine.

He found he couldn't even muster the strength to move the blade inside him.

Hanzō was afraid.

Not just for his life, but for his country. For the desperate souls who believed he could protect them.

He carried too many burdens. Too many hopes. He couldn't just die here and drag everyone else down with him.

If he died… what would happen to this crying nation? What about the starving children?

What about the wrath of the Three Great Shinobi Villages, now that he'd made enemies of all of them?

He couldn't afford to think about it. His legendary confidence shattered—just like his broken sickle.

In that moment, Hanzō seemed to age ten years. His once hawk-like eyes dimmed.

Far away, Madara, who was secretly observing all of this through his slight connection with the Rinnegan, chuckled softly.

"Hoshiyomi Gekkō… now this one is interesting. A decent little brat. If only he were Hashirama's grandson—then perhaps he might've one day been a worthy opponent to me. But alas… life offers no such what-ifs."

With that, Madara closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the illusory overlay of the Rinnegan had vanished.

Back on the battlefield, Hoshiyomi stared at the visibly aged Hanzō and said, almost like a devil whispering in his ear:

"How about a deal with Konoha?"

The suggestion made Hanzō instinctively want to reject it—but when he looked at the battered remnants of his forces in the distance, the words that came out were different:

"What do you mean?"

"There was never any deep-rooted conflict between Konoha and the Hidden Rain," Hoshiyomi said gently. "This war wasn't something either of us truly wanted. And I'm sure you've heard how Konoha treats the citizens of the Land of Rain."

Hanzō nodded reflexively. Indeed, Konoha's treatment of Rain Country refugees had been far better than that of Iwagakure or Sunagakure.

But then he caught himself—he was negotiating. How could he afford to show weakness?

He straightened up, doing his best to regain some of that legendary "Demi-God" aura.

"Enough with the spin. Just say what you mean."

Hoshiyomi's smile didn't fade. He turned to the Konoha shinobi and called out:

"All forces, cease attack. Tsunade, come here for a moment."

Understanding his intent, Tsunade approached. First, she used medical ninjutsu to heal Hoshiyomi's wounds, and then she began patching up Hanzō with some basic emergency treatment.

She was cautious—healing just enough to keep him stable, but not enough to remove the threat. If Hanzō tried to lash out again, the wounds would reopen immediately.

After a long silence, Hanzō finally ordered:

"Everyone, drop your weapons."

Then he looked at Hoshiyomi and said, "Tell me what your plan is."

Hoshiyomi extended a hand to help him up.

"It's simple. We have a common enemy, don't we?"

Hanzō's body stiffened.

This kid wanted him—and the Hidden Rain—to serve Konoha?

The very idea made his blood boil. He spat out without thinking:

"Absolutely not!"

Hearing his refusal, Orochimaru and Jiraiya stepped forward, chakra flaring. The Konoha shinobi behind them were already preparing for a second round.

"Don't be so quick to refuse," Hoshiyomi said lightly, stopping them with a raised hand.

"This is a negotiation. At least hear the terms first."

People were strange like that. Sometimes, the same idea—rephrased—sounded far more acceptable.

"I'm not asking you to serve Konoha," Hoshiyomi said. "I'm proposing a cooperation."

That one word changed everything.

Hanzō's fury eased. His face still looked stern, but his tone softened:

"Speak."

Hoshiyomi outlined the deal:

"First—Konoha will no longer target the people or shinobi of the Hidden Rain. We will not seize your land, either.

Second—as allies, we will provide food rations for your combat forces. And any spoils of war your ninja collect are yours alone—Konoha will take nothing.

Third—we're willing to open a wartime trade route to supply food to Amegakure. Of course, pricing and terms will be negotiated separately.

Lastly—Konoha will not publicize that the Hidden Rain was defeated. You will remain… 'the undefeated Hanzō, the Demi-God.'"

Hanzō's gaze locked onto Hoshiyomi. He couldn't look away.

Every condition hit the bullseye—strategically, politically, personally. Hoshiyomi hadn't just considered Amegakure's external threats and internal instability; he'd even accounted for Hanzō's pride.

If it weren't for his pride, Hanzō might've grabbed the kid's hand and shouted:

"Brother—I'm in!"

Author's Note:

I think I may have fumbled the ending a bit here. Honestly, I hesitated too long. I spent the whole chapter building up the tension, and now that it's time to close it with a negotiation, it feels slightly awkward. Still, I'll stick with this version for now. There won't be much Hanzō screen time in the rest of the Second Great Ninja War arc anyway, so this will do. I'll revisit if readers feel it doesn't land.