Mei Terumi stared out her office window, the weight of the Mizukage's seat pressing down on her shoulders. Another endless day of paperwork, another endless night of problems only she could solve.
The Hidden Mist was a mess. Not like Konoha—that place practically ran itself these days. Here, everything required her personal attention. Everything.
She set down her pen and allowed herself one moment of quiet.
I wonder how that idiot is doing.
The thought came unbidden, as it often did lately. She hadn't seen him in... how long? Long enough that she'd started to wonder if he'd forgotten about her entirely.
The tightness in her chest returned.
A flicker of movement caught her eye. Mei blinked, certain she'd imagined it.
Then Hanekawa was there, leaning casually against her desk like he owned the place.
"Lady Mizukage," he said with infuriating cheerfulness, "I'm wounded. You look like you've seen a ghost."
Mei's eye twitched. "How did you—" She stopped herself. Flying Thunder God. Of course. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting my favorite Mizukage." He grinned at her expression. "Don't tell me you're not happy to see me?"
"Get off my desk."
"Why? Your Mizukage chair is right there." Hanekawa settled back, completely unbothered by her glare. "Seems fair to me."
"That's not—" Mei bit back her frustration. "This is the Mizukage's office, not your personal lounge."
"Exactly. And you're my little maid." He said it with such absolute conviction that for a moment, she couldn't even respond. "So really, I should be sitting here while you sit in that chair."
"You're using strength to justify unreasonableness!" Mei's chest heaved with indignation.
Hanekawa's eyes flickered downward.
"Don't look!" She crossed her arms immediately, face burning.
"Why not?" He didn't even have the decency to look away. "You're beautiful. It would be a waste not to appreciate the view."
"You're a pervert!"
"Is that an insult or a compliment?" He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Because I'm taking it as a compliment."
Despite herself, Mei felt her anger deflate slightly. She'd missed this—his shameless teasing, the way he could make her furious and flustered in equal measure.
Fine. She dropped her arms. "Look all you want."
Hanekawa's eyebrows rose. "As expected of you, Lady Mizukage. You really do understand people."
"Don't patronize me!" But even as she said it, she could feel the heat creeping up her neck. The neckline of her dress shifted as she moved, and she caught the exact moment his gaze sharpened.
"Your figure really is top-notch," he said conversationally.
"Stop looking!" She reached out without thinking and bit his hand.
He pulled back with a yelp. "Are you a dog?"
"No." Mei wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, oddly satisfied. "I just wanted to teach you a lesson, you pervert."
Hanekawa examined his hand with exaggerated disgust. "All spit."
Despite everything, Mei found herself smiling. She grabbed a tissue from her desk and handed it to him. "Here."
"Now that's more like a proper maid." He wiped his hand carefully, watching her the entire time.
"I'm the Mizukage," she said firmly. "Not your maid."
"Is that so?" He leaned forward, and suddenly he was very close. "Do you remember how much maid time you still owe me?"
Mei's breath caught. She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I... that was..."
He glanced down, and she felt her face ignite. Pervert, she thought, but without any real heat behind it.
"Abnormal!" she snapped, leaning back.
"So what's your answer?" He didn't seem bothered by her outburst at all.
"I forgot," she said stubbornly.
"Are you defaulting on your debt, Lady Mizukage?" His eyes narrowed in mock seriousness. "That's not very honorable."
"I didn't say that." Mei crossed her arms. "I'll pay you back. Later."
"Why not now?"
"Because it's work hours." She lifted her chin, ignoring the real reason—that she was terrified of what might happen if they were alone together for too long. "I have responsibilities."
Hanekawa straightened, and for a moment, disappointment flickered across his face. "I see. Well, I suppose I should go then. Can't keep the Mizukage from her duties."
"Wait!" The word escaped before she could stop it. Mei felt her face burn as he turned back with that infuriating smirk. "I... when I get off work, I could... I mean, if you wanted to..."
"Yes?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her struggle.
"I could wear the maid outfit," she finished in a rush. "If you wanted to see it."
Hanekawa's expression softened. "It's only morning. That's a long time to wait."
"Then what do you want?" Mei's heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. "Do you want me to just... leave work early?"
"Would you?" He stepped closer, and she found herself frozen, caught between the urge to run and the urge to stay.
"No," she said, but her voice wavered. "I can't. People depend on me."
He reached out and pinched her cheek gently. "So you're saying I have to wait until tonight?"
"Yes." Mei felt her whole face warming under his touch. "And don't... don't be late."
"When have I ever broken a promise to you?" He withdrew his hand, and she immediately missed the contact. "I'll be here when you finish."
He took two steps toward the window before she grabbed his wrist. "You... you can't lie to me about this."
"I won't." He squeezed her hand gently. "I promise."
She let him go, watching as he disappeared in a shimmer of space-time jutsu.
Mei sank back into her chair, pressing her palms to her burning cheeks. Outside, the sky darkened with sudden storm clouds. Rain began to fall.
She looked down at the documents on her desk, then back at the window where he'd vanished.
Tonight, she thought, a small smile playing at her lips. He promised.
---
The Hidden Rain was exactly as Hanekawa remembered—perpetually shrouded in downpour, the kind of place where the sky itself seemed to weep. He materialized in the rain without a sound, his presence masked by the S-rank entry "Second Generation Danzo," which amplified his concealment jutsu by 200%.
Even Nagato's Rain Tiger Free Technique couldn't detect him.
He entered Sage Mode, and the world transformed. The Mind's Eye of the Heart expanded his perception across the entire village. He could sense Konan in her workshop, Nagato meditating in the central tower, and...
No Black Zetsu.
Interesting. Either it had some way to mask itself from Sage Mode, or it was simply absent. Given that Black Zetsu had hidden for thousands of years, the former seemed more likely.
Hanekawa dispelled Sage Mode and used Flying Thunder God to appear directly in Konan's workshop.
"Who—" Konan spun around, hands already forming seals before she recognized him. Her shoulders relaxed. "Hanekawa. You could announce yourself."
"I could," he agreed, glancing at the materials spread across her workbench. "Making detonating tags?"
"Yes. My paper control technique allows me to create them more efficiently than buying them." She returned to her work with practiced efficiency. "It saves resources."
Hanekawa nodded, understanding dawning. In the original timeline, Konan had deployed 600 billion detonating tags against Obito. Even at a fraction of a ryō each, that would be impossible to purchase. She had to have made them herself.
"Has Madara made any moves?" he asked.
"Not yet." Konan shaped another tag with precise folds. "But it won't be long."
"Then I'm staying." Hanekawa moved to the window, watching the rain. "I need an identity—a member of the Akatsuki organization. Someone who can move freely through the village without raising suspicion."
Konan's eyes brightened. "That would help protect Nagato significantly."
"What about the other Rain Village ninja?" Hanekawa turned back to her. "Won't they question a new Akatsuki member?"
"Not if we're careful." Konan set down her work and stood. "There was a chunin team that had an accident on a mission recently. You'll be the sole survivor—a young man named Raiyu. Introverted, no close friends. No one will question his sudden reappearance."
She raised her hand, and paper swirled through the air, forming the image of a lean young man with dark eyes and unremarkable features.
"Perfect," Hanekawa said, already forming the seals. His body shifted, bones restructuring, features rearranging until he was Raiyu—ordinary, forgettable, invisible.
"Come. I'll show you his home."
The house was small and sparse, exactly what an orphan's quarters would look like. Hanekawa approved immediately.
"How will you contact me?" he asked.
Konan produced a single sheet of paper. "When you burn this, I'll know. I can reach you anywhere in the village."
"Efficient." Hanekawa pocketed the paper. "Go. Don't let my presence distract you from your work."
After Konan left, Hanekawa settled onto the worn sofa and pulled out a scroll. The Immortal Technique: Wood Style, True Thousand Hands.
Hashirama's masterpiece. A technique so powerful it could summon a wooden deity the size of the Ten-Tails itself. The Buddha statue that crowned it could punch with a thousand arms simultaneously, each strike carrying the force of a sage.
In the original timeline, it had shattered Madara's Susanoo and carved the Valley of the End into existence.
Hanekawa had the Sage Body now. Learning this technique was theoretically possible, though it would require every ounce of his focus.
He had two other Wood Style techniques he hadn't mastered yet—Ranking Technique and All-Bag Technique—but time was running short. Madara would move soon. When he did, Hanekawa needed to be ready.
He opened the scroll and began to study.
---
Night fell over Hidden Mist.
Hanekawa dismissed his shadow clone—the memories of an uneventful day flowing back into him—and used Flying Thunder God to appear at Mei's residence.
She was waiting for him.
The maid outfit was... a choice. White stockings, cat ears, a cat tail, and a dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Mei stood in her living room looking like she wanted to murder him, which only made the whole thing more entertaining.
"Master," she said through gritted teeth, the word dripping with barely restrained fury.
"You changed your tune quickly," Hanekawa observed, settling onto her sofa.
Mei's eye twitched. "Don't push your luck."
"I'm thirsty," he announced.
She glared at him, then stalked to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. She held it out without a word.
"Is that how a proper maid serves her master?" he asked mildly.
Mei's jaw clenched. She set down the glass, dropped into a squat with obvious reluctance, and offered it again with both hands. "Master, please drink some water," she said, each word a small act of violence.
He took a sip and handed it back.
"Are you teasing me?" Her voice was dangerously quiet.
"Isn't this what a maid should do?" He watched as she drank the entire glass in one angry gulp, her eyes never leaving his. "What's wrong? Regretting your outfit choice?"
"Not at all," she said coldly. "I'm regretting you."
But when he reached for her hand, she didn't pull away.
---