"Since the Hokage has no further business, I'll take my leave."
"There are still many matters in the village awaiting my attention."
"I hope our two villages will enjoy a pleasant cooperation."
Sarutobi Hiruzen watched coldly as Yagura Karatachi exited the council chamber, his hands slowly clenching.
He'd been played.
The other side had tempted them with overwhelming benefits, leaving Konoha no choice but to accept—
then immediately turned around and made the alliance public, forcing the other three great nations to shift their attention squarely onto Konoha.
All to buy Kirigakure time to recover.
The scheme itself was crude, but the grasp of human psychology was frighteningly precise.
Anyone who could become a Kage was no soft persimmon.
Even Kirigakure, standing on the edge of ruin, could still produce someone like this.
And yet—Sarutobi had no choice but to walk the path Yagura laid out.
The moment he accepted that enormous "gift," the plot ceased to be a conspiracy and became an open strategy.
Fire and Water versus Wind, Earth, and Lightning?
Ridiculous.
What strength did the Land of Water even have left?!
Yet no matter how stifling it felt, Sarutobi had to admit the truth—
Konoha and Kirigakure were now grasshoppers tied to the same rope.
One prospers, both prosper. One falls, both fall.
Sarutobi stood there in silence for a long while.
Not a single ANBU dared disturb him.
Finally, he spoke.
"Bring me the latest intelligence on the Land of Rain."
If this situation was unavoidable, then Konoha had to seize every ounce of strength it could.
The Wind, Earth, and Lightning nations were out of the question—they'd love nothing more than to tear Konoha apart.
Among the smaller nations, only the Land of Rain still possessed real power.
In fact, it was already qualified to replace the Land of Water as the fifth great nation.
And within the Rain… there was a man.
Hanzō of the Salamander—the so-called Demigod of the Shinobi World.
But to Sarutobi, who had personally witnessed Senju Hashirama's power—
That title was pure self-aggrandizement.
A demigod?
Not even one-tenth of the God of Shinobi's strength.
Still, contempt aside, Konoha needed the Rain's power now.
—
Kyusei had no idea how much chaos his assault on Kirigakure had caused.
All he knew was that after lying in the hospital for a month, his whole body felt like it had rusted over.
And after not bathing properly for so long, he was pretty sure he smelled awful.
After a long, satisfying shower, Kyusei stepped into the living room wearing only a pair of shorts, towel draped over his shoulders as he dried his hair.
Someone was already sitting on the sofa.
kaoru glanced at Kyusei's bare upper body and immediately looked away, cheeks slightly flushed.
"Why aren't you wearing clothes…"
"I am though—look~"
Kyusei tugged at his shorts innocently.
"That's pants…"
"Not clothes…"
kaoru sneaked another glance at him, pretending he wasn't completely oblivious.
Kyusei smacked his lips.
Although kaoru had accepted Nao, she still blamed herself deeply for injuring him so badly.
And Kyusei himself was wracked with guilt for hurting her.
What should have been carefree intimacy now carried an invisible distance.
kaoru felt she owed Kyusei.
Kyusei felt he owed kaoru.
But he was trying—trying to restore what they once had.
As Hashirama had said:
A real man takes responsibility.
Everything began with him.
So everything should be borne by him.
"What do you want for dinner tonight? I'll cook for you."
A strand of crimson hair fell in front of kaoru's face.
She looked up instinctively—only to find Kyusei grinning inches from her.
Her gaze betrayed her, drifting to his well-defined muscles.
Under Hatake Sakumo's training, and given the nature of the shinobi profession, most ninja weren't overly bulky—
lean when clothed, powerful when bare.
Too large meant a bigger target.
Too small meant insufficient strength.
Balance was everything.
Kyusei's physique was honed to perfection—
one ounce more would be excessive, one ounce less insufficient.
But kaoru's eyes didn't linger long.
They moved instead to the bite mark on Kyusei's shoulder.
She had done that.
kaoru reached out gently, fingers brushing the mark.
"Does it… hurt?"
Kyusei blinked, then smiled.
"It hurts a lot."
"One kiss from kaoru and it won't hurt anymore."
"You're bullying me again."
Before Kyusei could respond—
She leaned in.
kaoru kissed the bite mark on his shoulder.
Kyusei felt a ticklish warmth, then something softer—
she wasn't just kissing.
"kaoru…"
He tried to lean closer, but a small hand caught his chin, stopping him.
Clearly, she wasn't going to let him have it that easily.
"I want tomato-and-egg stir-fry. And ribs."
"…Idiot."
kaoru turned her face away, refusing to look at him.
Her pink ears, however, gave her away.
Kyusei's spirit instantly soared.
He hurried off to put on clothes, calling out, "I'll be right back!" before sprinting out the door.
kaoru pouted slightly as she watched him leave.
Kyusei was hers.
No matter what happened with Nao.
He had always been hers.
Even if she was willing to share him—just a little—that didn't change the fact.
He was a hopeless womanizer.
But she loved him.
All of him.
Sharing him with Nao was her absolute limit.
Barefoot, kaoru curled up on the sofa, golden hair spilling freely as she stared at the small house filled with memories.
Everything here carried her presence.
The cat-shaped cushion.
The sunflowers by the window.
The scrolls in the study.
This place was full of her.
Even if Kyusei no longer belonged solely to her—
His first time…
Had to be hers.
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