Like most grandchildren of Kage in the Ninja World, Kurotsuchi had been working toward her grandfather's position ever since she first started training.
So when she was chosen for the list of exchange students going to Konoha, she didn't feel the usual curiosity or excitement an ordinary student might have about life in a foreign school.
In her eyes, this was essentially a long-term undercover mission.
Current allies would not remain allies forever. The history of the Ninja World had proven that countless times.
Gathering intelligence was her real objective on this trip.
With that in mind, Kurotsuchi had come thoroughly prepared.
After a journey that was anything but short, the twenty-five boys and girls from Iwagakure were temporarily settled into the Iwagakure residence in the Venue District.
Roshi, who had escorted them there, had already departed. Taking his place in the residence hall was Fūga, a Jonin who had been working at the Joint Bureau for nearly a year.
He stood before them, expression even more severe than back in the village.
"Konoha is preparing dedicated school buildings and dormitories for you. The handover will be completed within this week. Until then, you will stay here temporarily."
"The Venue District is divided into two main parts: the Tourist Area, which is open to everyone, and the Residence Area, which is allocated to each Ninja Village."
"Before you officially enter Konoha Village proper, if you leave the residence area, you must report to the duty ninja in this building. It is strictly forbidden to wander into the Tourist Area without authorization. Likewise, you are not allowed to enter the Residence Areas of other Ninja Villages without permission."
"This is Konoha, not Iwagakure. Your every move represents the village's image and will affect the relationship between Iwagakure and Konoha. I don't want to see any undignified behavior—understood?"
"Yes!"
The Iwagakure youths responded in unison.
All except Deidara. He neither answered Fūga nor showed the irritation one might expect from someone stripped of his ninja status and sent back to school for remedial study. Instead, there was only a barely contained excitement on his face.
Catching sight of that expression made the Jonin uneasy. He really didn't understand what Ōnoki was thinking.
If Kurotsuchi's presence was proof that Iwagakure took this exchange seriously—she was, after all, Ōnoki's granddaughter—
Then sending Deidara, a guy who couldn't keep his hands to himself even in his own country and randomly blew things up, to Konoha…
Was this meant to test Konoha's security system or to test Fūga's capacity for stress?
Here in the Venue District, it was still manageable. But once they entered Konoha proper, this exchange would last an entire academic year. If Deidara ever found a loophole and decided to put on a display of his "art" inside Konoha Village… would Fūga end up surrounded by Konoha Anbu one day while still on duty?
"Deidara," Fūga called out.
The blond kid lifted his head with obvious reluctance. "Hm?"
"Did you hear clearly what I just said?"
"I heard, I heard," Deidara said, waving a hand carelessly. "No running around, no causing trouble, hm?"
The perfunctory tone was enough to make anyone's blood boil.
Fūga drew in a long breath and forced himself to let it go. At the very least, in public, he had to maintain the dignity of an Iwagakure jōnin.
"Dismissed. Go to your rooms and sort out your luggage. Specific class assignments and course schedules will wait for Konoha's notification."
—
While Fūga didn't dare indulge in too many hopeful fantasies, Iruka-sensei's heart was just as heavy.
He had already heard about the new exchange students and had a rough idea of the scale.
Even if their numbers were only equal to those from Kumogakure, if they were all crammed into his class, that meant over a dozen more students.
Taking into account the differences between the children, the different educational systems they came from, and the trouble the Kumogakure Exchange Students had caused at the beginning…
It wasn't hard to picture the chaos that would follow.
So when he saw Roshi and Ebisu in the office, he had already mentally prepared himself.
'Naruto, I probably won't be able to stay with you until graduation.'
Just as Iruka braced himself to hear his "sentence," Ebisu's first line set him free.
"Iruka-sensei, based on our discussions, the new Exchange Students will be distributed among different classes."
Iruka blinked in surprise.
"However, there is one task we need you to take responsibility for," Ebisu said, pushing up his sunglasses. "Please compile a summary of your experience managing the Kumogakure and Sunagakure exchange students over the past year—common problems and corresponding solutions. At next week's Academy meeting, you'll be one of the presenters to share this with the other teachers."
That was it?
He didn't have to take in all of the exchange students?
Iruka nodded so hard his ponytail almost bounced, his voice rising with relief. "No problem! I'll prepare the plan!"
His enthusiasm was so intense that even Ebisu raised an eyebrow.
"Then I'll send you the specific format and requirements later," Ebisu said, turning to Roshi. "Does Lord Roshi have anything to add?"
Roshi shook his head.
Iruka let out a long breath, feeling as though the world had suddenly become much brighter.
Only then did Roshi speak: "The Kumogakure Exchange Students will be returning at the end of July. A new group will arrive at that time."
Having already held a farewell in his heart, Iruka confirmed, "Omoi and the others will be going back?"
"Of course. They're Kumogakure ninja, after all. A year of exchange is sufficient."
So the crisis of an overstuffed class was averted. He would still be responsible for a new batch of Kumogakure Exchange Students, but at least it wouldn't be a sudden flood of students with completely unknown styles and backgrounds.
Iruka felt like he could see the future again.
After watching Iruka ride that emotional roller coaster from despair to rebirth—and using a bit of concern for his junior to steady his own mood—Roshi made his way to Samui's office at the Ninja Academy.
"Roshi."
Samui looked up from behind her desk. Today she wore dark, casual clothes in the Kumogakure style, her coat draped over the back of her chair. Her short, pale blonde hair was neatly tucked behind her ears, framing an expressionless yet striking face.
"Samui."
As Roshi stepped inside, Samui rose. Instead of jumping straight into business, she walked over to the door and quietly closed the gap he'd left, then turned back to him.
"I've finished organizing the list and basic information for the new batch of exchange students," Samui said as she returned to the desk and picked up a folder. "According to procedure, it can be formally submitted to the Ninja Academy next week."
Roshi took the folder and flipped through a few pages.
"I'll hand the materials over to Ebisu," he said, closing it. "Thank you for your hard work."
"Also," Samui pulled out a chair and sat down beside him, "the Raikage has responded to the suggestions you put forward."
Roshi straightened slightly, indicating she should go on.
"He's inclined to agree," Samui said. "Kumogakure is clearly the village most affected by the illegal arenas. From every angle—whether it's stopping the Land of Snow from strengthening itself through this industry or preventing losses in tournament revenue—the Raikage believes it's necessary to push this forward."
"He'll go negotiate with Daimyo-sama."
With that, another village was on board. Only Sunagakure and the Hidden Mist remained.
Those two had long had strained relationships with their respective Daimyos, which, in a way, made them the easiest to deal with.
At that moment, Samui leaned in a little closer.
The movement was casual, but the distance between them slipped past the usual bounds of politeness. Roshi caught a faint, clean scent from her.
"Roshi."
Her shoulder almost brushed his, her pale blonde hair swaying slightly as she moved.
"I've thought it over," Samui said, turning her head so her blue eyes met his directly. "I don't intend to address you with honorifics anymore."
Roshi blinked, then smiled. "That's fine, but why the sudden change…?"
"The competition is too fierce, Roshi."
"From a tactical point of view, staying polite puts me at a disadvantage."
"So," Samui went on, shifting just a fraction closer until their arms were actually touching, "I'm going to be less reserved."
"Captain."
The young voice snapped Roshi out of the memory. He looked up from the documents he hadn't managed to advance at all.
Itachi stood before his desk, back straight, posture perfectly respectful.
"Ah, sorry, Itachi." Roshi set down his pen and leaned back in his chair with a quiet sigh. "I drifted off for a moment."
"Yes."
As always, the reply was brief, stripped of any unnecessary emotion.
He had joined the man's team at eight years old and later entered the ANBU, and five years had passed since then.
In that time, Itachi had seen with his own eyes how Roshi had earned everything he now held—dragging the Uchiha Clan out of desperation, stabilizing the village's situation, and even securing the current alliance.
So after giving his usual response, Itachi did something uncharacteristic and asked an extra question.
"Captain, is there something bothering you?"
He ventured a specific guess, even though he thought it unlikely. "Is it because of that Deidara? His identity and personality might cause unexpected trouble for managing the exchange students. Are you thinking about how to handle him?"
"Him?" Roshi needed half a heartbeat to pull the name Deidara out of his cluttered thoughts. "He's not a problem. You and Shisui should take turns visiting him a few times; Deidara should calm down for a while after that."
"If that still doesn't work, just have a match with him. Report it in advance and treat it as a special performance for tourists during the off-season."
"Understood." Itachi accepted the order but didn't move.
The office fell into a brief silence.
Sunlight inched across the wooden floor, the edge of the light slowly creeping along the seam of the first floorboard.
Roshi suddenly spoke again, as if to himself.
"Itachi."
"Yes."
"I'm probably…" Roshi's gaze drifted toward the window, his eyes out of focus. "…a rather terrible person."
Itachi didn't respond. He simply waited.
"In order to handle official duties more easily, I don't hesitate to use private interactions," Roshi went on, each word slow and careful, as if he were rolling them on his tongue and dissecting what lay beneath. "Exploiting goodwill, exploiting trust, even exploiting certain… vague expectations."
"If it were only exploitation—with clear goals and clear boundaries—and I could calmly accept any backlash or distance that followed… then maybe it would be simpler."
"The problem is, I don't seem to see them purely as tools. While I'm using these private interactions to pave the way, I'm also unconsciously… indulging in them."
"Enjoying the relaxed moments in conversation, feeling the responses that come from genuine goodwill, not just interest, and even taking pleasure in trust or closeness that goes beyond official ties."
He looked up and met Itachi's eyes.
"Itachi, someone who folds personal emotions and social connections into their calculations, feeds off them, and takes pleasure in that… at the root, there has to be something very twisted about that, doesn't there?"
Itachi remained where he stood. The sunlight shifted slowly, the bright patch crawling from his feet up to his calves.
He didn't reply right away. He thought for a long time.
"Captain, right now… the fact that you're saying these things to me—are you also using this method to seek some kind of comfort or validation?"
Roshi froze for a heartbeat, then burst out laughing.
"Yes," he admitted openly, without a trace of hesitation. "You could put it in that category too. The reason I confide in you is because I trust you far more than most people—and that trust itself might be the result of long-term cultivation."
"I anticipate your reaction and expect your understanding. That, in itself, is a kind of calculation and exploitation."
Even faced with this barefaced answer, Itachi remained standing straight. He neither felt insulted by Roshi's admission of using him, nor was he in any rush to offer easy forgiveness.
"I cannot bring myself to criticize you, Captain."
"It's not because you outrank me and not because I lack the courage."
The eyes he'd inherited from the Uchiha clan were unusually clear in that moment.
"When I was at my most lost, you appeared and taught me that solving a problem isn't about choosing between two options but about changing the question itself."
By now, the sunlight had slid down to Itachi's waist. He stood on the boundary between light and shadow, his figure half in brightness, half in darkness.
"So, regarding the issue you just raised," he continued, "I think it might be possible to look at it from another angle."
Roshi's eyebrow lifted slightly. "What angle?"
"Captain, you believe you're using personal relationships to advance official duties and taking pleasure in it," Itachi said. "But if you turn it around—"
He paused, choosing his words with care.
"Is there a possibility..."
"...that you're using the necessity of official duties to give yourself an excuse to form the personal bonds you actually long for in your heart?"
The office fell completely silent.
Roshi stared at Itachi for a long while without speaking. Then, slowly, he smiled.
"Thank you, Itachi."
"I suppose I've just been looking for an excuse to let myself do the things I simply want to do."
The atmosphere eased.
Roshi straightened in his chair again, fingertips tapping lightly on the desk as he shifted the topic in a natural, almost casual way.
"How's Sasuke doing lately? Does he have a plan to beat Naruto?"
"If Captain permits him to use ninja tools and traps," Itachi replied, his tone instantly returning to a cool, professional cadence, "then in theory, defeating the current Naruto would be very quick."
He analyzed calmly, "Right now, Naruto's advantage lies in the numerical suppression and confusion created by his Multi-Shadow Clone Technique."
"However, Sasuke's shurikenjutsu and wire traps are enough to wipe out large numbers of clones efficiently in the early stages of the fight, disrupting Naruto's tactical rhythm."
"And once they close the distance, with the dynamic vision and reaction speed granted by the Sharingan, Naruto's current level of taijutsu won't be able to keep up with Sasuke's movement rhythm or his variations."
"I see..." he murmured, eyes drifting to the training grounds outside the window. "Has that kid gotten a bit too full of himself lately? He beats Sasuke once and suddenly thinks he can come to me for a new jutsu..."
Itachi remained silent, standing motionless before the desk.
"Then let's set up a match," Roshi said, his tone settling back into its usual calm. "Tell Sasuke the leave-of-absence test is back on. Since he thinks regular classes are a waste of time, he can use an actual battle to prove he's worth any special training."
"It just so happens Naruto wants to learn a new ninjutsu. We'll use this as his test."
"Understood." Itachi dipped his head slightly. "I'll inform Sasuke and make the necessary arrangements."
"Go on." Roshi waved him off, picking up his pen again and turning back to the stack of documents. "And remind him he's allowed to be fully armed this time."
"Yes."
When the door closed behind Itachi, Roshi was alone in the office once more. The sunlight had shifted, its angle now spilling across the papers spread out before him.
He paused mid-stroke, then lifted his gaze to the window again.
"Some boundaries, once blurred, can never go back to cold, clean calculation."
"And some excuses, once dragged into the light and admitted to oneself, can never be ignored again."