The bell above the door chimed when I walked into the shop.
The tailor looked up from his workbench, squinting through his reading glasses at a piece of fabric stretched between his hands. When he saw me, his weathered face split into a grin.
"Shinji-kun! Back so soon? Don't tell me the jacket's already—" He stopped mid-sentence, eyes dropping to the tears along my sleeve and shoulder. "Ah. I see."
"Yeah, sorry about this." I shrugged off the black jacket and laid it on the counter. "My sensei has a pretty hands-on approach to education, I guess you could say."
"Hands-on, huh?" He picked up the jacket, turning it over to inspect the damage. "From the looks of this, I'd say she believes more in beating the lesson directly into you."
"That's pretty accurate, actually."
He chuckled, examining a particularly nasty tear along the back panel.
"Well, this is definitely fixable," he said after a moment. "The tears aren't actually as bad as they look, mostly just surface damage to the outer layer. But I've got a few other customers ahead of you, so it's going to take me some time to get to it."
I glanced around the shop. Three other people were waiting on benches along the wall, flipping through catalogs or just staring into space. Fewer than last time, but still enough to create a queue.
"So how long are we talking about?"
"Why don't you come back this afternoon? I should be able to have it done for you by then." He set the jacket aside on his work pile, waving me off with one hand. "Go on, shoo. Come back in a few hours and it'll be good as new."
I left the shop and headed toward the hospital. The outpost's main street was busier than usual today, construction crews hauling supplies, off-duty shinobi grabbing food, civilians going about their errands. The hammering from the expansion work echoed through the air like a constant heartbeat.
The hospital reception area smelled like antiseptic and medicinal herbs. A woman behind the desk looked up when I approached, her expression shifting to recognition.
"Oh, Shinji-kun. Are you here to see Tsunade-sama?"
"Yeah. Do you know where she is right now?"
"She's in the operating room. She's actually been in there for a while now, so it might be a bit before she's available."
I nodded my thanks and headed down the corridor toward the Observation room. I'd been here enough times to know the layout, second door on the left, overlooking the main Operating Theater.
The Observation room had a bench against one wall and a large window providing a clear view of the surgery floor below. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, cutting off the ambient noise from the hallway.
The observation window gave me a clear view. Tsunade was leading the surgery, her hands lit up with green as she cut into the patient. One of her assistants kept her hands on the patient's chest, monitoring vitals, using her own chakra to stabilize the heartbeat and breathing. The other assistant moved around the table, passing instruments, managing blood loss, keeping the whole area sterile.
The patient looked like hell. Even from here, I could see the damage, chakra network all kinds of messed up, something embedded in his torso that Tsunade was carefully extracting, and what looked like internal organ damage.
I settled in to watch, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed.
Three hours passed like that.
I'd be lying if I said I stayed completely focused the whole time. Around the two-hour mark, my mind drifted. What was the mess hall serving today? Hopefully something better than yesterday's mystery stew. I needed to remember to pick up that jacket this afternoon, too. My thoughts wandered, then snapped back when Tsunade adjusted her chakra output. She was responding to changes in the patient before anyone else noticed them, reading the body's signals faster than her team could report them.
At the two-hour-fifty mark, I slipped out of the observation room and headed to the staff lounge. Found the electric kettle, some mugicha, and set about making tea. The warm barley smell filled the small room, and I poured out enough for three cups.
By the time I got back, they were finishing up. The patient was alive and stable, but unconscious. They'd put him in medical stasis, deep enough that he wouldn't wake up while his body slowly pieced itself back together.
I waited outside the operating room. When Tsunade came out, she looked tired. Not exhausted, just worn down from hours of concentration. Her assistants trailed behind her, pulling off their surgical masks.
"Hey, sensei," I said, walking over. I flicked my wrist and the cup appeared in my hand. "I thought you could probably use this right about now."
Tsunade blinked, then smiled slightly. "You're too thoughtful sometimes, brat."
"Sometimes?" I raised an eyebrow. "Come on, sensei. Give me some credit. I'm at least thoughtful twice a day."
She took the tea and sipped it, and I could see some of the tension leave her shoulders. "How long were you watching?"
"Pretty much most of it." I gestured at the operating room behind them. "I actually learned a lot watching you work on that guy. The way you handled all that organ damage was really impressive."
The brown-haired assistant spoke up. "Shinji-kun's been progressing really well these past few days, Tsunade-sama. Are you thinking about letting him scrub in soon?"
"He seems ready," the other assistant added. "I mean, you two work well together during training sessions."
I grinned and pulled out the other two cups. "See? Finally, someone who gets it. Here, tea for the reasonable people in the room."
"Oh, thank you, Shinji-kun." The brown-haired assistant took her cup, wrapping both hands around it.
"But yeah, seriously, sensei," I said, looking at Tsunade with my best pleading expression. "When are you actually going to let me get my hands dirty? I promise I won't disappoint you." I glanced at the assistants. "Maybe you two could help convince her?" I flashed what I knew was probably an overly charming smile. "I mean, if sensei won't let me join her team yet, I definitely wouldn't complain about having two beautiful medical-nin as colleagues in the operating room instead."
They laughed. I noticed they checked Tsunade's expression before they actually said anything back.
"Well, that's very kind of you to say, Shinji-kun," the brown-haired one said lightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"He certainly knows what to say," the other murmured, glancing nervously at Tsunade.
Yeah, they'd picked up on the glare Tsunade was currently directing at the side of my head. Fair enough.
"You'll perform when you're ready," Tsunade said flatly. "Not when you try to sweet-talk my assistants into vouching for you. Come on, follow me. We need to talk."
"See you later," I said to the assistants, giving them a small wave before falling into step behind Tsunade.
"Good luck," one of them said quietly, the other one stifling a giggle behind her hand.
I caught up with Tsunade as she headed down the hallway. She seemed irritated about something. Did I say something wrong? I ran through the conversation in my head. Nothing came up. Maybe she was just tired from the surgery.
Her office was how I remembered it, neat, lived-in, stacks of patient charts piled on her desk. It smelled nice, actually. Something floral, maybe incense. She walked around her desk and sank into her chair with a sigh, setting her tea down.
I shut the door behind me. "Alright, what are we working on today? More cell regeneration practice? I'm pretty sure I've got the synchronization part down now." I tilted my head. "Unless you're finally going to let me—"
"Sit."
Her tone stopped me mid-sentence. Not angry, worse. The calm before the storm.
I sat down in the chair across from her desk. My brain was already running through possibilities. Did I miss training? Forget something important? Say something stupid to the hospital staff?
She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a folded letter. The paper looked official, the seal broken but still visible.
"So I received an interesting message today," she said, setting the letter on the desk between us. "It's from the Hokage, actually."
Oh.
Oh no.
This wasn't good.
My mind went through the list of things I'd done recently that could've reached the Hokage's ears. It was a longer list than I'd like to admit.
"Apparently, your clones were caught in Lightning Country," she continued, her voice still eerily calm. "They ran into Jiraiya of all people."
My stomach dropped through the floor.
Caught. The clones should've dispelled themselves the moment things went sideways. That was the whole point of using clones, if they got caught, they'd just poof and send me the memories. So why didn't they? What the hell were those clones doing?
Damn it. This was bad.
"Okay, so... caught doing what, exactly?" I tried to keep my voice neutral.
Her eye twitched. "Sabotaging Kumo's Bijuu resealing process."
Double damn it. Of course it was that.
"The Hokage has questions. A lot of them, actually. About why a Konoha chunin was interfering with another village's Tailed Beast containment procedures without any authorization."
"Look, in my defense—"
"There is no defense for this, Shinji." She looked at me, and I could see she was actually pissed now, not just annoyed. "You're not supposed to be on a mission in the Land of Lightning right now. You're supposed to be here, with me, training and learning, not running unauthorized operations in foreign country on your own. Do you even understand the chain of command? Or the concept of authorization? Or did you just decide to go rogue because it seemed fun?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it.
"And now Jiraiya has to clean up your mess," she continued, clearly not done yet. "Do you have any idea how much work it takes to keep something like this from escalating into an actual war? Kumo isn't stupid, they know shadow clones when they see them. They know that jutsu comes from Konoha. So now the Hokage have to deal with all the diplomatic fallout of your little adventure."
And so began the longest hour of my life.
Tsunade went through every possible consequence of my actions. War. Diplomatic incidents. The breakdown of treaties. How my little stunt could've gotten real shinobi killed.
She didn't yell. That would've been easier to handle. Instead, she just sounded disappointed, which somehow felt worse than screaming.
About fifteen minutes in, I realized I needed to do something before this went on for hours.
"Sensei," I interrupted during a brief pause when she took a breath. "Look, I'm really sorry. I mean it, I genuinely do. But can I make it up to you somehow? How about I massage your shoulders? You were operating for hours today, they must be pretty sore by now, right?"
She stopped mid-sentence and stared at me.
"You think a shoulder massage is going to fix this?"
"I mean, no, not really. But it might help you feel better while you continue explaining why I'm an idiot."
She just stared at me for a long moment. Didn't say yes, but she didn't say no either.
I decided that meant yes and got up, circling around to stand behind her. When I put my hands on her shoulders, I could feel how much worse the tension had gotten. Apparently yelling at your student for half an hour builds its own stress.
"This doesn't mean you're forgiven," she said after a moment.
"I know."
"And it doesn't mean I'm done talking about this."
"I figured as much."
She continued the lecture. I continued the massage. Her anger seemed to lessen, she didn't sound as pissed anymore, but that didn't stop her from spending another thirty minutes going over every single thing I'd done wrong and every possible way it could've ended in disaster.
My hands were getting tired. My ears were definitely tired. And I was starting to wonder if this was going to be a two-hour affair when—
Tap tap tap.
A small bird pecked at the window, its beak making sharp sounds against the glass.
Tsunade stopped talking. I stopped massaging. We both turned to look at the bird.
Thank you, I thought at the bird. Thank you so much. I'm getting you the biggest, fattest bug I can find later. Maybe a whole feast of bugs. You're a hero.
Tsunade stood and walked over to the window, opening it. The bird hopped inside, a small rolled paper tied to its leg. She untied it carefully and the bird immediately flew off, probably to go save some other poor soul from a lecture.
I watched her face as she read the message. Her expression shifted from annoyed to serious in about three seconds.
"Get ready," she said, already moving to remove her white doctor's coat. She hung it on the hook by the door and started adjusting her clothes. "We have a mission."
"A mission? What kind of mission?"
She grabbed her flak jacket from behind her desk. "Our sensors picked up movement about five minutes ago. Looks like Suna and River squads heading toward our territory. So we're going to intercept them."
I was already on my feet. "Okay. How many are we talking about?"
"Multiple squads." She headed for the door, then paused and looked back at me. "And Shinji? We're not done talking about this."
"I know. I get it."
"Good. Grab your equipment. North gate in five minutes."
I nodded and headed out. My jacket was still at the tailor's, but I could grab my flak jacket and weapons from my quarters.
Actually, wait.
I stopped and looked back at Tsunade's office. She was already gone, but I had an idea.
I flicked my wrist and books appeared in my hand. Medical texts, Senju Princess's collection. I set them on her desk and kept going, pulling out more until the stack threatened to topple over.
Had to be close to twenty books at this point.
I made a clone. It appeared next to the desk, already eyeing the book pile like it was a feast.
"Alright," I said, pointing at the books. "So you're going to help out at the hospital. You know, basic stuff—minor healing, whatever the staff needs you to do. Obviously no surgery since Tsunade won't let me anywhere near that, but just... try to make us look like we know what we're doing."
The clone's face fell. The eager look vanished. "Wait, hold on. I'm not reading those?"
"Nope. You're making a third-gen clone for that." I nodded at the pile. "Just reading, nothing else. Once it dispels, you should also dispel."
The clone frowned but didn't argue. He understood the logic—had to, since he was me.
Third-gen clone memories were weird. They didn't come straight to me, they went to the second-gen first. Only when the second-gen dispelled did I get everything.
I'd pieced together how it worked a while back, or at least how I thought it worked. Shadow clones aren't puppets or illusions, they're complete duplicates. Independent consciousness, their own chakra circulation, their own memory storage. Everything I am at the moment of creation gets copied over. Which means every clone is basically me, just with a different starting point and different experiences after that.
And here's where it gets interesting, when a clone dispels, its memories transfer back to whoever created it. Not to the original. To the creator.
So if I create a second-gen clone, that clone is tied to me. When it dispels, I get its memories. But if that second-gen creates a third-gen, that third-gen is tied to the second-gen, not me. The jutsu recognizes the second-gen as the third-gen's creator because, technically, it is.
Which means all those third-gen memories flow to the second-gen first. The second-gen collects them, stores them, and only when the second-gen itself dispels do I finally receive everything, both the second-gen's experiences and all the third-gen memories it accumulated.
The whole system creates a delay. A gap where a third-gen could do something monumentally stupid and I won't know about it until way after the fact, after the second-gen eventually dispels and dumps everything into my head.
That's why I'd been regularly creating fresh second-gen clones and sending them to Konoha, Lightning Country, and Tanzaku Quarters. Fresh stock meant they could replace the ones that dispel to send me updates. Otherwise, once a second-gen dispelled to give me information, there'd be no one left at that location to create new third-gens or continue operations.
Although, given the earful I just got from Tsunade, maybe I should stop supplying Lightning Country for a while. Let the situation cool down.
A quick gesture and four clones appeared beside me. They nodded, already knowing their assignments and vanished, two toward Konoha, two toward Tanzaku Quarters.
I turned to face the sulking clone. "Look, you probably already know this, but don't let the third-gen anywhere near patients, okay? Like, at all. Just keep it in here reading. Because if it gets bored and starts wandering around the hospital... I mean, who knows what kind of stupid thing it might decide to do. Last thing we need is a clone getting curious and trying to practice surgery on somebody when no one's watching."
The clone gave me a flat look. "You have that little faith in yourself?"
"In a third-gen clone that's been reading medical theory for hours and getting progressively more bored? Yeah. I have zero faith."
"Fair point."
"And if it's still around by the end of the day, just dispel it yourself. Don't let it sit there overnight getting ideas."
"Got it."
"Good. Get to work."
The clone formed another seal, and a second clone appeared. I pointed at the books. "Read. That's it. When you're done, dispel. Don't leave this room."
The third-gen clone looked at the stack of books, then at me, then back at the books. "This is going to take forever."
"Then you'd better start now."
I left before either of them could complain further.
The hospital corridor was busier than I expected. I'd barely made it three steps before nearly colliding with someone coming around the corner.
"Whoa—sorry," I said, stepping back.
Aya stopped, blinking at me in surprise. Then her face broke into a smile. "Oh, Shinji. Hey. Didn't expect to run into you here."
She looked good. Healthy. The jonin flak jacket fit her well, and she'd draped a black half-cloak over her left side where her arm used to be. The fabric fell naturally, covering the absence almost elegantly.
"So you're getting discharged today?" I asked.
"Yep, finally." She shifted the small bag in her hand. "Honestly, another day stuck in that bed and I was going to lose my mind. How's training with Tsunade-sama going?"
"It's pretty brutal, not gonna lie. She tried to kill me again this morning."
"I mean, that's just Tuesday for her, right?" Her smile widened. "But you're still alive, so you must be doing something right."
"Barely hanging in there. My survival instinct is working overtime these days."
She laughed, then glanced down the hallway in the direction Tsunade had gone. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be hurrying? I just saw Tsunade-sama leaving in a rush. She looked ready for something serious."
"Yeah, I know. I'm heading to grab my gear right now."
"Then what are you doing standing here talking to me?" She made a shooing motion with her hand. "Come on, go. Don't keep her waiting."
"Right. Good point." I grinned but didn't move. "But hey, congratulations on getting out of here, by the way. Freedom must feel pretty good."
"Oh, it feels amazing." She adjusted a strand of her hair. "But seriously, go before you end up being late."
"I'm going, I'm going." I stepped closer and leaned in, lowering my voice to a whisper near her ear. "By the way, you're being a lot more distant with me now than you were the last time we saw each other. What happened to the Aya who tried to eat my face off in that patient room?"
She jerked back, face going bright red. Her hand shot out and pinched my side hard. "Shinji!" she hissed, voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Not in public! People can hear you!"
"Okay, okay." I laughed, backing away while rubbing the spot she'd attacked. "I'm going, I'm going."
"You better be going," she whispered, her face still burning.
"Yes ma'am." I winked at her. Her eyes widened and she looked like she wanted to hit me again, but I was already moving toward the exit.
Once I cleared the hospital entrance and hit open air, I jumped to the nearest roof and started running. The barracks weren't too far off, but every second counted.
My quarters were exactly as I'd left them that morning, bed made, gear organized. I grabbed my grey flak jacket from the hook by the door and pulled it on, adjusting the straps until it sat right.
My tanto came next. I slid it horizontally across my lower back through the reinforced leather belt loop. Kept it secure and accessible without slapping against my legs when I ran.
Weapons pouch. Check.
Tanto. Check.
Everything else I might need was already in the pouches and the glove.
I gave my quarters one last glance, then headed for the door.
I hit the rooftops running, jumping from building to building. Then I caught my reflection in a second-floor window and stopped.
I stared at it.
Black shirt. Grey flak jacket. Standard issue pants.
I looked... generic. Completely, utterly generic.
Without my black jacket, I could've been any chunin or jonin in this outpost. Just another faceless soldier in the standard uniform. My entire aesthetic, my whole vibe—gone. Reduced to regulation grey and black that said absolutely nothing about who I was.
This wouldn't do.
I frowned at my reflection, thinking. The mission was important, sure. But showing up looking like everyone else? That felt wrong on a fundamental level.
I changed direction and headed for the tailor's shop.
The bell chimed as I pushed through the door. The old man looked up from his workbench, my black jacket spread out in front of him, needle and thread already in hand.
"Back already?" He raised an eyebrow. "I told you this afternoon—"
"I know, I know, I remember." I walked up to the counter. "But look, I've got a mission I need to go on. I need the jacket now. You can work on fixing it properly tomorrow when I get back, okay?"
He looked at me, then at the jacket, then back at me. "You're seriously going on a mission with a torn jacket?"
"I mean, it's better than going without it."
He studied my face for a moment, probably trying to figure out if I was joking. Then he sighed, set down his tools, and picked up the jacket. "You youngsters and your fashion priorities." He shook his head as he handed it over. "Good thing you're a paying customer, I suppose."
"The best kind of customer, right?"
I pulled the jacket on. Instantly felt better. My drip was back. The tears were still visible along the seams and sleeve, but at least I looked like myself again. Not just another grey vest in the crowd.
"Shinji?"
I turned.
Miyabi sat in one of the waiting chairs near the window with a bundle in her lap. She looked surprised to see me.
"Oh, hey Miyabi." I blinked. "I didn't expect to run into you here."
"Yeah, I could say the same thing." She gestured at my jacket. "You heading out on a mission?"
"Yeah, I am. Just came to grab this real quick before I head out." I adjusted the collar. "What about you? Getting something repaired?"
"Just getting some adjustments done. I figured it's better to fix things before they actually break on a mission."
I looked at her clothes. They seemed fine to me.
"That's smart. Good thinking."
She smiled slightly. "Well, good luck out there. Try not to get any more holes in that thing."
"Yeah, I'll try." I headed for the door, then paused and looked back. "See you around, Miyabi."
"Later." She gave me a pointed look. "And seriously, don't die out there."
"Wasn't planning on it."
The bell chimed again as I left.
The north gate had a decent crowd when I arrived. Chunin and jonin, all geared up. I counted fourteen shinobi total, give or take. Up front, a Senju was already deep into the briefing. Older guy, forties maybe.
"…multiple squads in our territory. Our objective is to intercept and eliminate the threat. Stay in formation, keep an eye on your flanks, and don't pursue anyone beyond our operational zone. Understood? Let's move out."
The group took off as one, launching into the trees. I fell in behind Tsunade, who immediately gave me a look, the universal sensei expression that translated roughly to "stay close and don't do anything stupid."
I rolled my eyes.
She saw it. Yep, still upset.
I gave her my most innocent smile.
She didn't buy it. Instead, she pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at me. Universal sign for "I'm watching you." Then back to watching the forest ahead.
We ran in formation. Fourteen shinobi through the trees. Nobody talked. Nobody needed to. Everyone here knew their job, knew how to move, knew when to shut up and focus.
Which was great and all, but looking around at all the serious faces, I couldn't help thinking these people really needed a drink. Maybe two drinks. Something to take the edge off that permanent scowl everyone seemed to be wearing.
Which reminded me of my clones in Tanzaku Quarters and our commerce empire project.
I'd gotten an update yesterday, and the news wasn't great. Turns out building the equipment to actually make whiskey took way longer than I'd anticipated. Stills, barrels, fermentation vessels, all of it required either money or time, and usually both. I had the money part covered, but time was the real bottleneck. My clones were working on it, but "working on it" apparently meant still weeks or even months away from producing anything drinkable.
So much for my grand plan of building a commerce empire.
Although, thinking about my clones in Tanzaku Quarters made me pout a little. Okay, a lot. Those bastards were living it up right now. Sake, gambling, women, basically everything I wanted to be doing instead of running through a forest toward a fight where I'd probably get punched by either Suna shinobi or Tsunade.
Why did I, the original, have it worse than my own clones? That didn't seem fair.
I wanted to be in Tanzaku Quarters. Drinking sake all day. Lounging on a couch with beautiful women around me. Maybe a few on the couch with me. Just... existing in comfort instead of whatever this was.
I sighed.
Seriously, I wanted to switch places with one of those clones. Just swap. Me there, them here. Done.
Wait.
I frowned slightly, the thought refusing to leave.
Could I actually do that? Switch places with a clone?
I thought about it. What jutsu would even make that possible? Nothing immediately came to mind. The Substitution Jutsu was close, but that was more about replacing yourself with a nearby object at the last second. Not the same thing.
Then it hit me.
Reverse Summoning.
That was a thing, right? A summon could summon the summoner. Bring them to wherever the summon was. I'd seen it in the anime. Was it Naruto who did it? Or Jiraiya? I couldn't remember exactly. One of them got pulled by their toads to Mount... something. Myo-something? The toad place, wherever that was.
So... could that work as a foundation? Take the concept of reverse summoning and adapt it? Make it so a clone could summon me, pull me to its location, and maybe I could push myself back to where the clone was standing?
Hmm.
The logistics were fuzzy. Would I need to set up some anchor point? A seal? Would the clone need to be holding something specific? And what happened to the clone when I arrived, did it dispel or would we just... swap positions in space?
I didn't have answers. Just questions stacking on top of more questions.
But the idea wasn't completely insane. Reverse summoning existed. I just needed to figure out how to make it work with shadow clones instead of summon animals.
I shook off the thought. Not the time. The forest blurred around us, green and brown and constant motion. We'd been running for maybe five minutes when I noticed figures ahead.
Another squad. Six of them.
Our taichou and their leader met in the middle, voices hushed and fast. Couldn't hear what they were saying, they were keeping it quiet on purpose. Short exchange. Then agreement.
They merged with us. Fourteen became twenty.
We kept moving.
"Taichou." The sensor suddenly tensed. "We've got contact. Our forces are engaged with the enemy."
The group came to a halt.
The old Senju didn't look surprised. "What are the numbers?"
"We're looking at forty to fifty hostiles per sector. They're hitting us from the south and the west." The sensor paused, probably double-checking. "Our teams are outnumbered in both sectors. They're taking heavy pressure."
Two separate fights. Both with bad odds.
The old Senju didn't hesitate. "Alright, we're splitting up. Tsunade, take ten people and head west. I'll take the rest and handle the south."
She gave him a quick nod.
Her eyes swept the group. That was it. Just that look. Ten shinobi moved immediately, falling in behind her. I was already moving too. The rest stayed with the Senju.
Tsunade picked up the pace. Faster now. A lot faster.
I kept position behind her left shoulder. Where she could see me.
Ground level running. Fast. Trees on both sides blurring together as we moved.
Ten minutes of that before—
"Shinji."
I looked at her. She looked back. That expression, I knew it. She wanted numbers. More bodies for the fight ahead.
Right.
I smiled and jumped sideways, hitting a nearby tree trunk and breaking away from the group. Caught a few surprised looks from the others as I peeled off. Guess they weren't expecting that.
But Tsunade was. She kept moving, didn't even glance back.
I pushed off the tree and started sprinting through the branches. The forest opened up around me. Just me now. My breathing, my footsteps on wood, nothing else.
A few more jumps through the trees, then I found a good spot and stopped. Branch was thick, solid beneath my feet.
Time to work.
.....
Meanwhile, in Tanzaku Quarters, the clone calling himself Kanzaki Ryouma was having the best time of his life.
He lounged in the Lotus House garden, stretched out on cushioned furniture like he owned the place. Which, given how much money he'd been throwing around, wasn't far from the truth. The sake was expensive. The company was better. Two women sat on either side of him, one running her fingers across his chest in lazy circles, the other refilling his sake cup the moment it got low.
This was the life.
While the original was probably sweating through some mission in the wilderness, getting lectured by Tsunade, or dodging exploding tags, he—the clone—was here. Drinking premium sake. Surrounded by beautiful women who laughed at his jokes and called him "young master" like he'd earned the title through something other than a transformation jutsu and a fat wallet.
The third-gen clones were out there somewhere, breaking their backs doing labor throughout the town. Construction work, cargo hauling, whatever paid decent money. They'd come back exhausted, dispel themselves, and he'd get their memories along with the coin they'd earned.
And what did he do with that money?
This. Exactly this.
He took another sip of sake and sighed contentedly. The afternoon sun filtered through the cherry tree overhead, casting pleasant shadows across the garden. A koi splashed in the pond. Someone laughed from inside the house. Life was good.
Then he sneezed.
"Oh, are you alright, young master?" The woman on his right paused in her gentle caressing, concern crossing her face.
He waved it off and downed more sake. "I'm fine. Someone out there must be thinking about me. Probably envying me, right?"
Both women giggled—light, musical sounds that rich men probably paid extra to hear.
"Well, of course people envy you, Kanzaki-sama," the one on his left said, refilling his cup with a warm smile. "I mean, you're so generous and handsome. Anyone would be jealous of what you have."
"Mm, that's right," the other one agreed, resuming her work on his chest. "Young master is honestly the best customer we've had in months. You're so kind, and so—"
"Rich?" he supplied with a grin, clearly enjoying this.
They laughed again, and he let himself bask in it.
Yeah. Someone was definitely envying him right now. Probably half the men in Tanzaku Quarters. The merchants who worked all month to afford one night here. The guards watching a pretty-boy half their age get treatment they'd never receive even if they saved for a year. The other customers stuck with cheaper sake and less attentive company, watching the women fawn over him like he was actually attractive and not just wealthy, which, to be fair, he was both.
Youth, looks, and money. He had the whole package, and everyone could see it.
He raised his cup in a silent toast to all of them.
Keep staring, gentlemen. This is what success looks like.
The woman on his left giggled and leaned closer. "Someone's in a very good mood today, I see."
"Can't imagine why," he said, his hand finding hers. "Oh wait, actually I know exactly why." He grinned at her. "It's definitely the company."
She blushed, looking pleased. "Young master is such a flatterer."
She leaned in just enough for him to feel it.
Yeah… neither of them would be sleeping tonight. He'd make sure of it.
...
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