The assembly horn blared across the battlefield, a sharp sound that echoed through the camp. All the shinobi exited their posts and began heading toward the designated assembly point.
Chōji and Shikamaru walked together. Chōji glanced around and sighed.
"I heard we're being divided into five companies. I thought they'd split us according to our villages!"
Shikamaru rolled his eyes and replied lazily, "How would that even work? This is war. If we divide by village, then there's no point in calling it a Shinobi Alliance. None of the individual village powers would be able to consolidate properly."
"You're right. Now's not the time to stick with our fellow villagers," Temari chimed in from behind them, agreeing with Shikamaru's assessment.
Chōji turned to Shikamaru. "So, do you know how the five units are divided?"
Shikamaru recalled the formation plans. "The Allied Shinobi Forces are divided into five specialized battle units. Each one has a specific combat focus.
The First Division is composed of ninja proficient in mid-range combat—those who specialize in weapons and projectile-based jutsu.
The Second Division is the close-combat unit, meant to engage enemies directly on the front lines.
The Third Division provides mid-range support—only shinobi who possess both speed and physical endurance are suitable for this unit.
I'm in the Fourth Division. That's the long-range unit. We provide support for both the frontline and the intelligence corps. We're also responsible for guarding the rear support teams.
Lastly, the Fifth Division is the Special Operations Unit. These are ninja who use unique ninjutsu and special combat methods."
"Special Operations Unit?" Chōji echoed with a puzzled expression.
Shikamaru nodded. "Yeah, Special Ops. Anything can happen on the battlefield. Even though we've been assigned specific divisions, we'll all need to adapt depending on how the situation unfolds. That's why ninja with specialized skills—like those with Kekkei Genkai or unique clan techniques—are placed in the fifth unit."
After hearing the explanation, Temari folded her arms and spoke with admiration. "It's impressive they managed to organize this kind of structure. Over 80,000 shinobi from different villages, gathered and distributed so quickly—and with such efficiency.
The only one capable of devising this level of battle intelligence is Konoha's Nara Shikaku."
Shikamaru smiled slightly at the praise for his father.
Temari gave him a meaningful look. "Once we step onto the battlefield, don't let your father down, Shikamaru."
Shikamaru rubbed his temple and groaned, "Man, what a drag…"
Chōji stood silently for a moment, his usual cheerful expression shadowed by concern. "I never thought… one day I'd actually step onto a battlefield like this. A real war—the kind only our dads talked about. I'm really worried… What if… What if someone I care about doesn't make it out of this?"
His voice trembled, and sadness flickered across his round face.
Shikamaru placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, Chōji. I'll protect you."
Temari scoffed slightly under her breath, not unkindly.
Just then, a commanding voice from the Allied Forces rang out.
"All captains—assemble!"
The gathered shinobi turned toward the high platform as five figures emerged into view, slowly stepping forward.
Chōji squinted into the distance. "Is that them?"
Shikamaru nodded. "Yeah. Those are the five captains of the main divisions. From left to right:
Darui from Kumogakure—captain of the First Division, and right-hand man to the Raikage.
Kitsuchi of Iwagakure—captain of the Second Division, and the son of the current Tsuchikage, Ōnoki.
Hatake Kakashi of Konoha—captain of the Third Division.
Mifune, general of the Land of Iron's samurai—captain of the Fifth Division.
And finally, the commander of the entire Allied Shinobi Forces' combat units and captain of the Fourth Division—the youngest Kazekage in history, Gaara of the Sand."
When Temari heard Shikamaru announce her younger brother's name, pride swelled in her chest. She crossed her arms and smiled fondly at Gaara.
"That's my little brother."
Below, the divisions murmured with awe as they took in the sight of the five captains. The crowd erupted into cheers and speculation.
First Division.
Tenten looked up at the high platform and tilted her head. "Um… Which one's our captain? I hope it's Kakashi-sensei!"
Akimichi Chōza chuckled and said, "It's not Kakashi. It's the one on the far left—the guy who looks kind of half-asleep."
On the platform, Darui stood listlessly, his expression as bored as ever.
Second Division.
Hinata clasped her hands together, silently praying.
Naruto-kun… Please take care of yourself.
Neji, standing beside her, noticed her tension. He offered a soft smile. "Don't worry, Hinata-sama. I'll protect you."
Hinata turned to him with a grateful expression. "Thank you, Brother Neji…"
But her voice trembled as she added, "I just… I feel so nervous. I'm scared that if something happens in this war… I might never see Naruto-kun again…"
Neji frowned. His feelings toward Naruto were complicated. The boy had defeated him during the Chūnin Exams—a loss that changed him. Over time, he came to respect Naruto.
Still, he gritted his teeth. Where the hell is that idiot now? The war's started, and my cousin's out here on the battlefield. What the hell is Naruto doing?!
Nearby, Karui of Kumogakure snorted. "Tch, don't worry. War's no big deal."
Kurotsuchi, standing among the same unit, folded her arms and complained, "Are you kidding me? My dad's the captain? I thought I'd finally get some independence on the battlefield… but now I'm still under surveillance."
Up on the platform, Kitsuchi was surveying his troops with pride and determination.
Finally. I've waited so long for this moment. I'll prove that my strength isn't just because I'm Tsuchikage Ōnoki's son. I'll protect Kurotsuchi—and earn my own military achievements.
Third Division.
Rock Lee was kneeling beside Might Guy, shaking his shoulder in panic. "Sensei! Are you alright? Wake up!"
Sakura crouched nearby, using medical ninjutsu on Guy. "Seriously… The war hasn't even started yet. What are you doing collapsing already?"
Fourth Division.
Chōji had already broken into his food stash and was chomping down loudly.
Shikamaru stared at him, exasperated. "What are you doing now?"
Chōji replied mid-chew, "Eating while I still can. If I die out there, I won't get another chance. Oh, and Shikamaru—if I really don't make it, make sure you visit my grave every year, okay?
And bring some bags of these potato chips. Don't bother with flowers—you can't eat those."
Shikamaru smacked him on the back of the head. "Stop talking like that, idiot."
Temari glanced over and said, "Technically, Gaara's the captain of our unit. But since he's the commander of the entire Allied Force, you're acting as our real captain.
So, Shikamaru—you're basically in charge of the Fourth Division. Our lives are in your hands."
Shikamaru frowned.
He thought back to the shōgi games he played over the years, the sacrifices, the strategy. He remembered what Asuma had told him before his death—the meaning of the 'king' in the game.
Suddenly, it all felt crushingly real. The burden of leadership, the weight of lives.
"…Man. What a drag."
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