After marveling at Saiki's unnatural power, Inoichi Yamanaka returned to his duties, organizing the exhausted soldiers.
"You and your team, start the body count. You three, follow me to the perimeter."
The Cloud had retreated, but Inoichi was too experienced to be careless. He needed eyes on the front to ensure the cleanup crews weren't ambushed.
A counter-attack was unlikely after such a beating, but "unlikely" wasn't "impossible."
Once they were a safe distance from the others, Shinku Yuhi couldn't help but lecture Saiki.
"Saiki, you need to show Commander Inoichi more respect. He's the leader of this entire operation."
Saiki's brow twitched. He was physically spent and his mood was in the gutter.
But since this was his future father-in-law, Saiki forced a long exhale.
"I know. I'm just tired. My head isn't in a good place right now."
Hearing that, Shinku went silent.
In this world, strength was the only currency. Given Saiki's contribution tonight, his "attitude" was actually quite mild compared to most arrogant elites.
Shinku realized he only felt comfortable lecturing Saiki because the boy was nominally his subordinate.
He was also trying to look out for Saiki's future.
He wanted the boy to be on good terms with the clan heads and the village elders so his career wouldn't be sabotaged.
Saiki understood the sentiment, but he had no intention of "climbing the ladder."
To him, raw power was more reliable than political favors.
But because Shinku's intentions were pure, Saiki gave him a respectful, if curt, nod.
They reached the camp. Saiki had no interest in meeting Jiraiya.
While Shinku went to deliver the tactical report to the Sannin, Saiki found a secluded corner of the woods near the perimeter.
He had checked the mess tent, but the front lines were low on supplies; the soldiers were living on flavorless soldier pills.
Fortunately, Saiki was a prepared man.
He unfurled a sealing scroll and pulled out a massive spread of food he'd prepared yesterday morning.
He built a small fire, used his chakra to flash-heat the meal, and began to eat with savage intensity.
He hadn't even had a drop of water all day; he was starving.
He had just ended a hundred lives, yet here he was, eating like he didn't have a care in the world.
Humanity's ability to adapt to horror was truly disgusting.
He had a massive bowl filled with seaweed-wrapped rice balls and a giant, roasted ham hock.
He was devouring them with a speed that suggested he could witness a decapitation and not miss a single chew.
The physical act of filling his stomach was the only thing keeping his irritable mood from boiling over.
Mid-bite, Saiki lifted his head. He sensed people approaching.
He identified the signatures and went back to his meal.
A tall man with wild white hair and Shinku Yuhi stepped into the firelight.
Shinku's brow immediately furrowed.
Even though the Cloud knew where the camp was, lighting a fire in the woods like this was technically a security breach.
Suppressing his annoyance, Shinku turned to Jiraiya. "Lord Jiraiya, he's right here."
Jiraiya had been desperate to see the "prodigy" who had broken the Cloud offensive.
He had already met the Uchiha and Hyuga captains, but the news that this new genius was the "younger brother" Tsunade had raised made Jiraiya's interest skyrocket.
Seeing the fire, Jiraiya initially questioned the boy's discipline.
But the reality was that Saiki's mood was so poor he simply didn't care about the rules.
"Saiki!" Shinku called out as they approached.
Saiki's cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel, his mouth packed with rice and ham.
He spared them a single, bored glance before looking back down at his bowl.
He ignored them completely.
Jiraiya, who had already puffed out his chest and prepared a grand speech of praise, stood there looking like an idiot.
Shinku was mortified. The boy was being beyond rude.
"Saiki! This is Lord Jiraiya, one of the Legendary Sannin! What is wrong with you? Show some respect and greet him!" Shinku barked, his face turning red with shame.
Saiki's hand paused as it reached for another rice ball. He slowly lifted his head.
He chewed methodically, swallowed with a heavy gulp, and took a long swig from his water flask.
Then, he turned a cold, detached gaze toward them.
Shinku was Kurenai's father, so Saiki had tolerated the nagging, but the constant lecturing was starting to piss him off.
From Saiki's perspective, he was a child who had been forced onto a battlefield for a village he didn't even like.
He had marched for two days without sleep and killed a hundred men before he'd even seen his bunk.
He owed the Leaf nothing. If anything, they owed him.
He was tired, he was hungry, and now these "authorities" were trying to pull rank on him while he was trying to have his first moment of peace.
Knowing he didn't need anything from the village elders, Saiki had no reason to suck up to them.
The frustration of Tsunade's departure finally found an outlet.
"Can't you see I'm busy eating?" his voice was like shards of ice.
Faced with Saiki's sudden, freezing aura, both Jiraiya and Shinku were stunned.
They didn't know how to respond.
Saiki usually kept his power tightly coiled, making him invisible to standard sensors.
But for a split second, he let his aura flare.
Shinku's legs nearly gave out, and even Jiraiya felt a cold sweat prickle his neck. The pressure was immense.
"Uh... sorry. I heard you were the MVP of tonight's battle. I just wanted to come by and personally thank you for your service," Jiraiya said, his boisterous tone replaced by a rare sincerity.
The boy was a hedgehog of needles. Since Jiraiya had lowered his head, Saiki let out a long, weary sigh.
"I'm in a bad state. My apologies. I'm tired and I'm hungry. I don't have anything else to say to you. If you want a meeting, come back tomorrow."
Jiraiya was surprisingly understanding. "Fair enough. Enjoy your meal. We'll leave you to it."
Saiki looked like a classic case of combat-induced stress.
He was so young, and despite his strength, the carnage of tonight must have been a lot to process.
Jiraiya and Shinku shared a look of realization.
Shinku felt a wave of guilt. He had been so focused on etiquette he hadn't noticed the boy was mentally at his limit.