Naruto: Mixed Heritage(Rewrite)

A lone figure clad in a deep earth-toned cloak stepped into the Kazekage's office. Her entrance stirred the tension again, like someone brushing the dust off an old, loaded weapon.

Gani dipped her head respectfully. Her posture was measured, poised—formal, but not stiff.

"Kazekage-dono," she said with a voice like gravel smoothed by water. "I bring greetings from the Land of Stone."

Satetsu stood behind his desk like a weathered monument, unmoving and unreadable. His dark eyes, sharp as obsidian, traced her form before he gave a slow nod of acknowledgement.

"I hope," he began, lips curled in the ghost of a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "that you come bearing good news from your father. Or is this another declaration of war—only this time, you're just the messenger?"

The room stilled at that, the weight of his words, hidden behind a bad joke, sinking into the air like a kunai buried in flesh.

Gani raised her head, catching the unspoken tension with an ease that belied her youth. Her dark eyes—wide and keen, with faint creases at the edges that hinted at sleepless nights—met the Kazekage's without flinching.

"Don't worry, Lord Kazekage," she replied smoothly. "I assure you, The Tsuchikage wishes to remain on amicable terms with Sunagakure—and the Land of Wind in general."

Her smile mirrored his—tight, restrained, and curiously lacking warmth. The one where their eyes were not smiling. It was a diplomatic dance, this exchange. And both dancers were well-trained.

Rasa, silent until now, narrowed his eyes. 'Why is the Tsuchikage's daughter in Sunagakure? Do we have a private alliance that I've been kept in the dark about? No… If that were the case, Lord Satetsu wouldn't allow her presence while I'm here.'

His gaze travelled to Gani, and he studied her more closely. There was no mistaking the resemblance. The same slanted brow and sharp cheekbones as Onoki. Her frame was wiry and compact, like a kunai wrapped in silk—dangerous yet composed.

She wore no formal insignias of Iwa, save for her forehead protector, which hung loosely around her neck, half-concealed by the fold of her cloak. Even that seemed intentional as if to maintain the thinnest veil of deniability.

Ebizo folded his arms, watching the girl with a mixture of interest and scepticism. "A long way to travel just to exchange pleasantries, don't you think?"

"Hardly just pleasantries," Gani answered, offering a faint nod to both Ebizo and Chiyo. "But allow me a moment for civility. Lady Chiyo… Master Ebizo… It's an honour to be in your presence. The stories of your exploits reach even the highest peaks of the Stone."

Chiyo raised a brow but said nothing. Ebizo allowed himself a grunted "Hmph."

Gani turned her attention to Rasa. "And you must be Rasa. The prodigy of Suna's new generation." Her tone was light, but her eyes probed. "The desert winds whisper your name. It's said even the sand obeys you."

"I've never known sand to obey anyone," Rasa replied coolly. "But I can make it listen."

That earned a smirk from Chiyo, who for a brief moment seemed genuinely amused. Gani simply nodded again, unbothered.

Satetsu leaned forward slightly, the faint creak of his chair the only sound before he spoke again. "Now that the air is sufficiently thick with flattery, let's not waste more of it. Why are you here, Gani?"

She chuckled softly. "Straight to the point. Just like my father said you would be." She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small scroll, wrapped in faded brown leather and sealed with a symbol that shimmered faintly in the candlelight.

"This is a token of appreciation," The leather casing was worn but elegant, marked with the subtle, stylized symbol of the Land of Earth—an intricate triangle carved into the seal that shimmered faintly in the candlelight. "A gesture from Iwagakure, in light of our… renewed understanding. We believe peace, even in times like these, is worth nurturing."

She held it out with both hands, the gesture ceremonial in its slowness, like a priestess offering incense at an altar. The room felt like it had been sucked of breath, the scroll hovering between outstretched fingers like a bridge across a battlefield.

No one moved to take it.

Then, with the suddenness of a desert viper striking from the sand, Chiyo stepped forward.

The older kunoichi's age did nothing to dull her speed. One moment she was watching silently from the side, the next her hand had shot forward and snatched the scroll from Gani's hands.

There was a faint hum, followed by a dull thrum that passed through the air like the vibration of a distant drum. Everyone in the room felt it—the confirmation of active sealing chakra.

Chiyo's expression shifted. Her eyes narrowed into slits, jaw tightening slightly.

"…Weapons and food rations," she said quietly, voice edged with disdain. "Crates of them. Tagged for transport through the Tanbo Route. One marked 'urgent relief.'"

Silence dropped like a slab of stone.

Even the wind outside seemed to go still, as though the desert itself was holding its breath.

Gani's practiced smile wavered. Only for an instant—but for those watching closely, it was enough. A flicker of genuine discomfort flashed behind her eyes, quickly buried beneath diplomatic poise.

"Iwa understands the toll conflict takes," she said, voice calm but slightly lower, more measured. "Especially on nations stretched thin by two enemies. My father only wanted to provide support. That is all. No ulterior motive."

Chiyo turned her head slightly, just enough to look back at the younger woman. Her gaze was flat, unreadable.

"Is that why he didn't send word through official channels?" she asked. "Or is that part of the new diplomacy—covert generosity?"

G'ani's lips parted slightly. "The delivery was meant to avoid interception," she explained. "There are rumours of Kunoha's intelligence operatives scouting Suna's trade routes. This was for your protection."

Satetsu finally spoke again, his voice low and deliberate. "You sent weapons and supplies to a village you don't trust… to protect us?"

His tone wasn't incredulous. It was surgical—cutting, probing for the weak point in her logic like a shinobi prodding a hidden trap.

Gani didn't blink. "I understand your suspicion. But Iwa has no interest in prolonging this war unnecessarily. Supporting Suna ensures balance. Stability."

Sensing the rising tensions, she then took her leave.

Chiyo handed the scroll to the Kazekage without a word, her fingers lingering just a moment longer than needed—as if to warn him of what it truly was. Satetsu didn't hesitate.

He pressed his chakra into the scroll with one hand, brow furrowing as he felt the confirmation ripple through the seals: high-grade weapons, chakra-supplemented rations, and some minor medical supplies.

The seal's chakra signature bore Iwa's unmistakable fingerprints. The scroll was authentic.

His hand dropped slowly, expression hardening like cooled iron. Then, in a fluid motion, he tossed it through the air toward Rasa.

"Burn it."

Rasa blinked in confusion, catching it reflexively. "Lord Kazekage—"

"Burn it," Satetsu repeated, not even turning around. His voice was cold, final. "I won't have Iwa's scraps stinking up this office."

He didn't wait for an answer. With the rustle of his cloak and the sharp click of his sandals against stone, the Kazekage turned and walked toward the far exit. His back was straight, each step measured and slow, like a man who had walked this path before—like a man carrying the weight of a village on his shoulders.

The door shut behind him with a low, echoing thud that rang through the chamber like a closing gate.

Rasa stared after him, scroll still clutched in his hands. His face was a storm of confusion, frustration, and dawning realization. "But… food and weapons… We're at war. Why would he—?"

"Because that scroll was poison, Rasa," Chiyo said, not unkindly, but firmly. "Not literally. But politically. Strategically."

Ebizo stepped beside her, arms folded tightly across his chest. "He's right to be wary. Iwagakure is playing a long game. They want Konoha and Kumo weakened, but they don't want to dirty their hands. So they give us just enough bait to keep us fighting."

Chiyo nodded grimly. "And when we're too bloodied to stand, they'll march in with clean blades and call it liberation."

Rasa's grip tightened around the scroll. He could feel the chakra seal still pulsing faintly beneath his fingers. "Then why don't we strike first?"

Ebizo gave a short, dry laugh. "Oh, we'd love to. But the moment we do, they'll show the world this scroll and scream betrayal. Peaceful Iwa, stabbed in the back after extending a hand."

"They'll use the gesture as a shield," Chiyo added. "And the other nations—especially those sitting on the fence—will believe them. Our funding, our trade routes, even our standing in the neutral territories—it'll all vanish. We'll be painted as warmongers."

Rasa's jaw clenched. "And in the meantime, they whisper in Kumo's ear, let them take more ground."

Ebizo's eyes gleamed darkly. "Who says they're whispering? For all we know, they're arming both sides. A prolonged war suits Iwa just fine."

Rasa looked down again at the scroll in his hands. The symbol of Iwagakure seemed to sneer at him now, glowing faintly in the firelight. It wasn't a gift. It was a leash.

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