The office was a study in controlled chaos; scrolls, reports, sealing diagrams, and unfinished administrative work covered every available surface. Stacks of paper rose from the desk like miniature towers, their edges curling with age, their surfaces covered in dense script and intricate diagrams. Renjiro sat at the center of it all, his brush moving with mechanical precision, his eyes fixed on the document before him. He looked genuinely busy; his movements were efficient, his focus absolute. But the efficiency was a mask, a deliberate attempt to keep his mind occupied.
He could finish everything much faster with Shadow Clones. He knew this. The technique was second nature to him, as natural as breathing. But he deliberately chose not to use it. Shadow Clones would let him finish the work quickly, but finishing quickly would leave him alone with his thoughts again. Right now, he needed something tedious and complicated enough to keep his mind occupied. His thoughts kept drifting back toward Minato knowing about Sora, Hiruzen's distrust, the Uzumaki survivor operation, Kushina knowing, Danzō knowing. He consciously forced himself back into the scrolls.
Work is easier than thinking, he thought, his internal voice carrying the weight of his exhaustion. At least scrolls don't lie to my face.
A knock came from the office door, sharp and insistent. Renjiro didn't look up, his brush continuing its steady rhythm across the page.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Saki entered, her posture carrying the particular tension of someone who had been given an unpleasant task. She hesitated at the threshold, her expression carefully neutral.
"Commander," she said, her voice professional. "You have a guest."
Without looking up, Renjiro immediately told her, his voice flat: "Send them away. I'm busy. I'm in no condition to entertain anyone."
Saki hesitated. Renjiro noticed the hesitation without looking up, his brush pausing mid-stroke.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of impatience.
"I can't simply send this particular guest away," Saki explained carefully.
Renjiro finally looked up, his annoyance building. He started guessing who could possibly have enough authority to override his instructions. "Is it the Daimyō?"
Saki shook her head.
Renjiro realised from her expression that he had actually become unusually serious. "The Hokage?"
Again, Saki shook her head.
Renjiro's irritation grew. "Why can't you simply do your job and send the person away?"
Before the exchange could escalate, the door suddenly opened.
Kushina walked straight into the office, her voice carrying a cheerful note that seemed almost deliberately out of place in the tense atmosphere.
"It's me!"
Renjiro immediately recognised the voice. He sighed, turned his head away, and rubbed his temples. His reaction communicated a single, clear thought: Of course it is.
"Kushina," he said, his voice flat. "I'm extremely busy and already behind on my work."
Kushina completely ignored his attempt to end the conversation. She walked over and took a seat across from his desk, her pregnancy noticeable as she settled into the chair. The growing baby bump made the movement slightly more difficult than usual, a small visual reminder that her life was changing rapidly even while Renjiro's problems were escalating.
"I don't care how busy you are," she said, her voice carrying the particular warmth of someone who had known him long enough to recognise when he was hiding. "How are you doing?"
Renjiro gave short, deliberately unhelpful answers: "Fine. Good. Busy. Tired."
Kushina kept trying to draw him out, her questions gentle but persistent. Renjiro refused to volunteer anything, his answers clipped, his attention returning to his work.
Kushina eventually stopped pretending this was a casual visit. "Are you still mad at Minato?" she asked directly.
Renjiro's immediate internal reaction was sharp: Of course. He sent her. He kept his expression completely neutral, his voice flat.
"Why would I possibly be mad at the Hokage?"
Kushina immediately saw through the performance. "Don't play that game with me," she said. "Are you angry about being excluded from the Sora and Uzumaki survivor plan?"
Renjiro stopped working. The conversation finally became serious. He leaned back, setting down his brush before answering.
"You may no longer currently be an active shinobi," Renjiro said calmly, "but I am. More importantly, I'm the Jōnin Commander of Konoha. My position means I serve at the pleasure of the Hokage and, by extension, the Daimyō."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"If the Daimyō ordered secrecy, if Minato agreed, if Hiruzen was involved, then I ultimately have no authority to overturn their decision. If they genuinely believed it was better for me not to know, then there's not much I can do about it."
His delivery remained calm and professional. The subtext, however, was unmistakable: he was hurt.
Kushina's expression shifted, her frustration becoming visible. "The passive-aggressive routine is getting boring," she said. "I don't want you hiding behind your position or pretending that the decision didn't affect you. I want you to actually say what you feel."
Renjiro asked her bluntly, his voice flat: "What do you want from me?" He challenged the premise of the conversation. "Do you want me to admit I'm angry? Do you want an apology? Do you want me to forgive Minato?"
Before Kushina could answer, Renjiro answered the question himself. He openly admitted, his voice carrying the weight of his honesty: "Yes, I'm angry."
He then turned the question back onto her, his voice cold: "What are you going to do about it?"
The bluntness caught Kushina off guard. For once, she didn't immediately have a response. Renjiro wasn't shouting; he wasn't threatening Minato. He was simply forcing Kushina to acknowledge that his anger was real.
After a pause, Kushina gave what she believed was the obvious answer: "You and Minato need to make up." She framed it as something that could be resolved between friends.
Renjiro chuckled, the sound dry and humourless. "There is nothing to 'make up' from," he said. "We never actually had a falling out. Minato made a decision. I disagree with that decision. Now I have to live with it."
He paused, his voice dropping.
"This isn't a childish argument. I'm not refusing to speak to Minato. I simply don't intend to pretend the decision didn't change how I see our relationship."
Kushina asked why he was being so stubborn. Renjiro responded with a slight smile, the expression carrying the particular edge of someone who was about to deliver an uncomfortable truth.
"You don't actually know what stubborn means," he said.
The line initially sounded like another joke. Then he delivered the emotional blow underneath it.
"Minato trusted me enough to ask me to become the godfather of his future child," Renjiro said, his voice quiet, controlled. "Yet he apparently didn't trust me enough to include me in a plan involving surviving members of my own clan."
He pointed out the contradiction without raising his voice. The implication was devastating: You trust me with your child. You trust me with Konoha's barrier. You trust me with the village's most dangerous missions. But apparently not with this.
An uncomfortable silence filled the office. Kushina's expression changed; the defensive attitude disappeared, replaced by something more thoughtful. She realised Renjiro wasn't angry because he believed he was entitled to classified information. He was hurt because the people closest to him apparently made a judgment about his emotional maturity without giving him the opportunity to prove otherwise.
"I…" Kushina began, but before she could formulate a response, the office door suddenly opened.
Saki rushed inside. This time, she didn't knock. Her urgency immediately told both of them that something serious had happened. Renjiro looked toward her, his irritation replaced by focused attention.
"Commander," Saki said, her voice carrying the weight of her message. "An emergency Jōnin Council has been called. You're needed immediately."
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