In the newly cleaned great hall of the Uchiha compound, Hinata's production crew had reconvened. Half a month off, and everyone was back in good spirits—everyone except Shikamaru.
"Given Shikamaru's deplorable conduct in the previous session—deceiving Sakura and Ino, trifling with the sincere feelings of two pure-hearted girls, wounding fellow crew members, and damaging the friendship between classmates—after careful deliberation by the crew, a final penalty has been determined."
Hinata sat at the head position, voice level, bearing impeccable, projecting the particular gravity of a judge delivering a sentence. Given the current power structure of this operation, "the crew's careful deliberation" was more or less synonymous with "Hinata's careful deliberation."
"Heh, deceiving your own comrades really is going a bit too far~"
Kakashi smiled pleasantly at the girl presiding from the top seat. He was completely in support of this ruling.
"Tch. Save it. You had this in mind from the start, didn't you?"
Shikamaru propped his chin on one hand and looked at Hinata without much energy. For the record, he had no objection to the penalty itself.
"Accordingly: Shikamaru will be taking on the new role of 'Lady Higan.' Possibility of future role changes remains open—but before that, you'll be learning the Sexy Technique from Naruto."
Hinata delivered her ruling at a leisurely pace. Beside her, Naruto scratched his cheek without enthusiasm. "I've got company now, so why am I still not happy about this..."
"Please wait—why do the boys always have to transform into girls to play female roles?!"
Ino, who had been holding herself back with visible effort, looked at Hinata with open indignation. "Sakura and I are normal female cast members, aren't we?!"
"Exactly~! Putting boys in female roles always has this gross, perverted feeling to it~!!"
Sakura seconded immediately. The two of them—bonded now by a shared first kiss they would both prefer never to think about—had clearly formed an alliance and were making a joint bid for the female lead.
"I—Sakura, why me?! I'm not—(T_T)..."
Naruto, caught in the crossfire and labeled a pervert, gnawed piteously on his sleeve. Hinata pressed her fingers to her forehead.
Pop! The corn kernel in her right hand exploded into carbon. She reached back into the dish for another.
"What you say has some logic to it," she admitted, unhurried. "But even as female cast members, you'd both still be using Transformation Technique for your roles—which is no different in practice from what the boys do. The obvious criterion, then, is simple: whoever produces the best performance wins the part. Nothing else."
"Agreed. In acting, the best execution determines the best fit. Nothing else."
Shino, now a reliable vice-manager and resident voice of reason, adjusted his sunglasses with precision, then added diplomatically: "That said, verbal claims of fitness are insufficient. If you have no objection, I would propose a simple audition process—this would determine the optimal cast while also keeping the group's morale intact."
Pop!
Hinata's kernel detonated again. She retrieved another without comment. This was, personally, a profound waste of her time—but they were a group, and groups required buy-in. Fine.
"We'll proceed. But Sakura, Ino—if you don't place in the audition, I don't want to hear any more complaints about role allocation afterward. Understood?"
Bang!!
This time the kernel went off with triple the usual force. Ino and Sakura both flinched. "Y-yes, understood."
Hmm. That actually worked rather well, Kakashi noted privately. He glanced discreetly at Sakura—twelve years old, build like a plank—then at Ino beside her—equally flat, honestly—then reviewed, from memory, the female Naruto's perfect double-S curves.
His preference had already formed.
"First up: Shikamaru versus Ino, competing for the role of Lady Higan. Character profile: black oiran dress, long straight black hair, tall with an hourglass figure, smokes, languid, elegant. Judges: Choji, Shino, and our production photographer—maximum score per judge is ten points. Both candidates will be scored on appearance, then on a character question-and-answer. Is the format clear?"
Hinata leaned back and displayed the photograph from Shikamaru's previous transformation. "Reference image. Understood?"
"Such a drag."
"I absolutely will not lose!"
"Understood. We will judge fairly."
Crew members scrambled to put together scoring paddles—folded cardboard was fine, since Transformation Technique made costumes and makeup unnecessary.
Before long, Shikamaru and Ino stood at the center of the great hall. The three judges—Choji, Shino, and Kakashi—sat behind a low table in a row. Hinata, serving as host and question-setter, surveyed both candidates and gave a small nod.
"First: external appearance. Both of you—transform into Lady Higan."
"Hmph. The day I lose to you on femininity will be the day my tea ceremony and ikebana training amounted to nothing."
Ino, riding high, looked sidelong at the sulking Shikamaru beside her and formed her seals briskly. "Transformation Technique!"
"What a drag. But if I quit now I'll never hear the end of it—"
Shikamaru sighed and followed. "Transformation Technique."
Two clouds of smoke dispersed. Two nearly identical figures appeared in the great hall—Lady Higan as specified: a striking woman in black, the oiran dress trimmed in gold and threaded with silver, elaborate hair ornaments piled high, a figure that could stop foot traffic.
"Both transformations are genuinely impressive~"
Hinata gave an approving nod, then turned to the judges. "Please score. Starting with Ino."
Proud of herself, Ino drew herself up and held her bearing—confident, immaculate.
"Clothing detail, natural expression, accuracy of the ornaments—nothing to fault. Excellent technique across the board. I give both candidates a ten."
Kakashi was being entirely sincere. He raised his ten-paddle.
"Hmm—Ino looks really beautiful, but..." Choji, one hand in his chip bag, sounded unexpectedly conflicted. "Kind of... too stiff? Like a temple idol or something..."
"Excuse me?!"
Ino nearly broke character. Shino, unmoved, adjusted his sunglasses and said evenly: "Choji's assessment is accurate. Ino's transformation is technically flawless—which may, in fact, be the problem. Every element, every accessory, every line of her posture is so precisely correct that it reads as a lacquered mannequin. What she projects is not the presence of a woman who has lived inside the pleasure quarters. It is a gilded statue placed in one."
The observation settled over the room. Hinata's brow furrowed in quiet agreement. Ino's Lady Higan was impeccable. That was the problem. Every detail sat perfectly in place, the expression was composed—and all of it felt like a very expensive, very immobile display piece. No life behind the finish.
"What a drag..."
Across from her, Shikamaru muttered it to the floor, expression somewhere between aggrieved and vacant. In contrast to Ino's perfection, his Lady Higan had let certain things slip: the collar gaped slightly to one side, the hairpins were a shade askew, and the expression he was wearing was one of profound, absolute reluctance. But somehow—that slight dishevelment combined with that heavy-lidded irritation—
Choji and Shino exchanged a look, then wordlessly produced their paddles.
Both judges: Ino, nine. Shikamaru, ten.
"So Shikamaru leads on appearance." Hinata popped another kernel—which promptly exploded. She grabbed another. "Next, we probe character. For fairness, you'll respond to my question simultaneously. Ready."
She composed herself, then let her voice slide into a languid register.
"Lady Higan—we haven't met in years. Will you share a drink with me tonight?"
The question was unmistakably forward. Ino and Shikamaru glanced at each other, then answered simultaneously.
"Please conduct yourself with some decorum."
"What a bother."
"....."
Several seconds of silence from the entire great hall.
Three paddles came up without deliberation.
All three judges: Ino, nine. Shikamaru, ten.
"A languid, world-weary oiran—naturally, Shikamaru carries that energy better. Agreed?"
Hinata shook her head, mildly disappointed in Ino. An oiran whose first response to a flirtation was "please conduct yourself with some decorum" was simply doing it wrong. The entire character relied on a bored, half-contemptuous kind of pull—playing hard to get while drawing people in. Shikamaru's "What a bother"—in that form, with that delivery—somehow carried exactly that weight. Ino's propriety couldn't compete.
Ino dissolved her transformation and sat down, expression gray. It was, objectively, a difficult thing to absorb—losing a femininity contest to a boy was the sort of thing that left marks.
"Next—for the role of the Fox Immortal Ahri—yes, that's her name—female lead: Naruto versus Sakura. Please come to the center."
Without addressing Shikamaru's and Ino's mutual expressions of profound existential despair, Hinata named the next pair. Naruto and Sakura moved forward without much preamble—no need to explain the format twice—and each performed their transformation in turn. Two identical Fox Immortal figures appeared, and this time—
"Hmm. Both appearances are beyond reproach. Since there's no separating them on looks, it seems we'll have to judge on temperament instead. One decisive question."
Hinata appraised them and cut straight to it. "Both of you—cry for me. I want to see who cries more beautifully."
"Agreed. The capacity for beautiful grief is central to a character defined by tragic love. The better performance wins the role."
Shino concurred. Sakura set her jaw, glanced at Naruto, and began working herself up: Ino's already out. If I can just beat this dead-last on femininity, the female lead spot—the role beside Sasuke—is mine. Just cry—simple. Think of something that actually hurt. When those kids called me billboard brow. Yes. That burning behind the nose—
Naruto looked sideways at Sakura, then thought: she really, really likes Sasuke. Fine. If that's the situation, I'll give her the lead. She can have it. As long as she's—and why is my nose stinging now? Stop it. Think of something funny. What's funny—that time I drank expired milk and was sick for three whole days? That time I wanted to buy a mask and half the crowd shouted me down—ah—why am I feeling even worse the more I think about it—
Both of them gritted their teeth. Neither cried.
The audience was starting to feel the wait.
"This isn't working—ah—"
Kakashi spoke up, glanced at Hinata, received a small nod of permission, and continued gently: "Why don't you think about the people who matter most to you? Imagine them getting sick, maybe. Family—like your parents—"
"Well, my parents can be such a handful sometimes—"
Sakura had started to object when something made her stop.
A single tear slid down Naruto's face.
There was no expression. No heaving shoulders, no catching breath. Just the tear—moving quietly down a face that hadn't changed at all.
"I'm sorry—I think that was a little—I mean, I don't—I don't have parents, so—ah ha, ahahaha—"
She tried to tilt her head up. Tried to put a smile over it. It didn't hold. The tear reached the corner of her smile and continued down, past the whisker marks, all the way to her chin—while she was still making herself grin.
The great hall went quiet.
This time, the judges didn't even score Sakura. Three paddles came up for Naruto—all perfect scores. Sakura dissolved her transformation without a word and retreated to sit beside Ino.
"The audition results are final."
Hinata settled back into her position, voice unhurried.
"Take a moment to collect yourselves. We'll begin filming Fox Tales, Act Four: Lady Higan—immediately."