The old man's fury showed no signs of abating. Despite attempts at reconciliation, he stubbornly refused to drop the matter. Seeing this, Uchiha Izumi had no choice but to summon the temporary workers to address the growing tension.
Word spread quickly through the neighborhood, and the residents—ever hungry for drama and spectacle—gathered eagerly, forming a dense crowd around the small office where Izumi sat. They whispered excitedly among themselves, eager to see what new tactic the young Uchiha woman would employ this time.
Clearing her throat twice, Izumi straightened her posture and addressed both the temporary workers and the gathered onlookers with a calm but authoritative tone.
"Although you temporary workers have only recently begun your duties, and naturally, there remain many imperfections and areas for improvement, I expect you to learn from your mistakes and grow stronger," she said firmly.
"But," Izumi continued, pausing to let her words sink in, "since you have made mistakes, mistakes must be punished. So, how shall we deal with this?"
Her gaze swept over the temporary workers, resting on their foreman with a sharp intensity.
After a brief moment of thought, she declared, "As the foreman, you bear the main responsibility for this failure. Therefore, you will be fined one month's salary and suspended from duty for one full week."
The foreman's eyes flickered with ill intent as he shot a resentful glance at the old man. The old man himself smirked, clearly pleased by what he perceived as a lenient punishment.
"What can you do to me?" the old man scoffed loudly. "Haven't they already been punished enough? Hmph."
But the nightmare that awaited him was far worse than any formal penalty.
---
From that day forward, a troubling scene unfolded outside the old man's shop.
A shifting parade of figures—hoodlums sporting wildly colored hair and strange clothes, as well as the temporary workers donning their uniforms—lingered constantly in front of his establishment.
Potential customers, upon seeing the unruly crowd, quickly changed their minds and left, unwilling to brave the hostile atmosphere.
Leading this motley group was none other than the suspended foreman himself, his face twisted into a triumphant grin as he surveyed the old man's growing distress.
Every time a hungry patron approached the old man's door, a group of colorful-haired hoodlums would light cigarettes, block the entrance, and puff clouds of smoke in the customers' faces, driving them away in disgust.
Hours passed in this tormenting pattern.
Unable to endure it any longer, the shop owner finally confronted the assembled crowd, grabbing the foreman's arm and shouting, "What do you think you're doing, standing here and disrupting my business?"
The foreman shrugged lazily. "What are you talking about? This is a public road, not your personal property. You want us to leave? Dream on! We're staying right here. What can you do about it, old man?"
The old man's face flushed with anger as he looked to the temporary workers for help.
"You're supposed to manage public order, aren't you? Why aren't you stopping this? Look, they haven't budged from my doorstep."
The temporary workers glanced at the hoodlums before speaking with a hint of impatience.
"Sir, we're responsible only for maintaining public order. These people aren't doing anything illegal. Look around—you'll see them lingering outside other shops, too. You're just being overly sensitive."
"Sensitive?" the old man growled. "They're ruining my business!"
The temporary workers sighed dramatically.
"Fine, we'll talk to them," one muttered.
---
Moments later, the old man watched in dismay as the temporary workers engaged the hoodlums in a loud conversation.
They talked endlessly about some "big brother," some woman, and—most disturbingly—money. But at no point did they discuss the old man's grievances or make any effort to clear the entrance.
Red-faced and furious, the old man stormed forward, broom in hand, shouting, "Get out of here! Leave my shop alone!"
The hoodlums scattered with exaggerated cries of distress.
"Ah! The old man's hitting people! Someone help!"
Seizing the moment, the temporary workers sprang into action, grabbing the old man and dragging him away towards the local jail.
"Hey! What are you doing? I'm a law-abiding citizen!" he yelled desperately. "Help! They're arresting me for no reason!"
---
The next morning, after his family bailed him out of jail, the old man's anger had only deepened.
He grumbled as he nursed his bruised body.
"We can't just keep complaining to that girl," his son said thoughtfully. "They punish the temporary workers for a few days, then everything goes right back to how it was. And those hoodlums? They're still running wild."
"We need a stronger solution," the old man said grimly. "Let's find a ninja to drive them off once and for all."
His eyes brightened with determination.
"Yes! Let's ask your cousin. He's a ninja, right? He can help us."
---
Meanwhile, as Izumi sat calmly drinking her tea inside the small office, she overheard the old man's conversation with the ninja cousin from a distance.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she continued sipping her tea, unconcerned.
---
The following day, the hoodlums loitering at the shop's entrance spotted the ninja walking toward them, his face clouded with displeasure.
The old man pointed and hissed, "It's them!"
The ninja cracked his knuckles and snorted coldly.
"Don't worry. Leave this to me."
Without hesitation, the ninja charged at the hoodlums.
"Ah! Ninja! Help! The ninja is attacking us!" they screamed as they scattered in panic.
But outrunning a ninja was impossible.
The ninja swiftly knocked down each hoodlum, leaving them sprawled on the ground.
He turned to the old man with a smile. "There. All taken care of."
The old man nodded in satisfaction.
"Not bad, not bad at all. Ninjas truly are amazing."
But then his eyes narrowed as he glanced toward the temporary workers nearby.
"Don't forget these guys, too. They're in on it."
The ninja faced the temporary workers, who shifted nervously.
"What are you waiting for? Get out of here," the ninja growled.
"We're temporary workers!" one protested.
"Hmph. Temporary workers? Never heard of them," the ninja sneered before lunging forward and delivering a swift, punishing beatdown.
"Help! The ninja is attacking us!" the temporary workers wailed loudly, hoping to draw Izumi's attention.
---
The crowd watching the scene erupted into cheers.
"Well done! They deserve it!"
"That ninja's got some real skill!"
"Finally, justice!"
The ninja raised his head proudly, basking in the praise.
---
Suddenly, Izumi's voice rang out, cold and sharp.
"Powerful? You call this power? In broad daylight, a ninja is bullying the villagers. This is unacceptable!"
The ninja turned toward her, eyes narrowing.
"Hmph. The Uchiha Clan truly has fallen. Sending a mere child like you to manage public order? No wonder this place has become a mess."
Izumi sneered in response. "You've broken the law. Come with me."
The ninja blinked, shocked.
"What law? Tell me, everyone—am I right or wrong?"
The crowd immediately shouted back, "You're right! You haven't broken any laws!"
The ninja smirked triumphantly.
"See? What more do you want?"
Izumi smiled slyly.
"Sir, whether you've broken the law or not doesn't matter. What matters is what I say."
Before he could react, Izumi vanished using Body Flicker Jutsu.
"Where did she go?" the ninja gasped.
Suddenly, a rapid flurry of strikes landed on him—"Bang! Whack! Crack!"—and he was quickly overwhelmed by Izumi's expert combos.
The ninja collapsed unconscious to the ground.
---
The crowd instinctively stepped back, startled by Izumi's boldness.
She clapped her hands with a sneer and grabbed the ninja by his hair, dragging him toward the local prison.
Meanwhile, a nearby ninja hurried off to report the incident to the Hokage.
---
Upon hearing the news, the Third Hokage smiled wryly.
"Hmph, let's see how she manages to escape this one," he muttered.
Soon after, senior officials arrived to summon Izumi and her father, Uchiha Fugaku, for questioning.
---
As the door to the office opened, Izumi strode in confidently.
The Third Hokage looked at her gravely.
"Fugaku, Izumi actually assaulted a Konoha ninja in broad daylight. What do you think we should do about this?"
Izumi smiled sweetly and replied, "Is Hokage-sama getting senile? I was clearly enforcing the law. How can you say I beat up a ninja?"
The assembled Konoha elders stared at her in stunned silence.
Could this young girl really be this arrogant
The Third Hokage leaned forward in his seat, pointing directly at himself with a raised eyebrow. "Are you speaking to me?" he asked, his tone sharp but tinged with curiosity.
Uchiha Izumi met his gaze calmly, a faint but confident smile playing on her lips. "Yes, Hokage-sama, I am indeed enforcing the law."
The Third Hokage's expression twisted into a bitter laugh, as if the very notion was absurd. "Enforcing the law? Do you even understand how outrageous those hoodlums were? They relentlessly harassed that family day and night. It was this ninja who stepped in, defeated those hoodlums, and protected the villagers. Everyone applauded him, showing just how desperate they were to be freed from those ruffians."
He glanced sharply at Izumi. "And you—Uchiha Izumi—are the public security officer in charge of that area. And yet, you condoned those hoodlums running wild, causing chaos. This does nothing but damage the reputation of the Konoha Ninja."
He paused, then added gravely, "Not only that, but you also beat a righteous ninja unconscious—right there in the street. Everyone witnessed it."
The room fell silent, heavy with the weight of his words.
The Third Hokage turned his gaze to Uchiha Fugaku, Izumi's father. "Fugaku, can your clan truly bear the responsibility of maintaining Konoha's public order if this is how your daughter conducts herself?"
Before Fugaku could respond, Izumi interrupted sharply.
"Old man, are you confused?"
The bluntness stunned everyone. Even Danzo Shimura, known for his iron will and composure, stared at Izumi in disbelief. No one dared speak to the Hokage so casually, let alone with such defiance. Was this truly the same obedient Uchiha Izumi they had known?
A ninja guard standing near the Third Hokage immediately barked, "Uchiha Izumi, how dare you disrespect Hokage-sama!"
But Izumi simply ignored the outburst, instead sneering quietly.
"Hehehe, Hokage-sama, you must realize that although these people are hoodlums by reputation, they didn't actually do anything illegal. Yet they were brutally beaten by that ninja. In my opinion, he is the one who committed the crime."
The ninja frowned, indignation flashing in his eyes. "Damn it! You…"
Before he could finish, the Third Hokage raised a hand, silencing him.
"This is a public order issue," the Hokage said, turning back to Izumi. "The Uchiha Police Force is responsible for public order in this matter, isn't it?"
Izumi smiled sweetly, her eyes sharp as daggers. "Oh? Hokage-sama, you say this is a police matter. That ninja beat up residents and law enforcement personnel in front of a shop, so naturally, I took action to restore order."
She leaned forward slightly, emphasizing her point. "Is there any law that states a ninja can go around hitting people gathered outside a shop? Does that mean anyone passing by can be attacked? That's absurd, Hokage-sama."
She glanced at the assembled crowd, then back at the Third Hokage. "You preach civilized law enforcement, yet my temporary workers tried to advise those hoodlums to go home and stop hindering business. But those diligent employees were inexplicably beaten by this ninja. This is a slap in the face to the Konoha Police Force—and by extension, a slap in your face!"
The Third Hokage opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. He was speechless.
Sensing his hesitation, Homura Mitokado stepped in smoothly.
"But how did you manage to recruit hoodlums into the police force?" he asked carefully. "Doesn't this severely damage our image?"
Izumi's smile deepened, calm and unbothered.
"That's something you'll have to ask our Hokage-sama," she said lightly.
All eyes shifted to the Third Hokage, who looked caught off guard. He gave a weak laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Me? You want me to answer that? No, you should be explaining yourself! How could you recruit hoodlums into the police force? What exactly are you trying to do?"
Izumi's smile turned teasing, almost playful.
"Isn't the presence of hoodlums in the village a direct result of poor management, Hokage-sama? If you had managed things better, would there even be hoodlums causing trouble?"
She paused and then added pointedly, "You should be thanking me. I recruited these hoodlums as temporary workers to help solve their employment problems. I'm your benefactor, Hokage-sama."
Her words stung like a whip.
"You—"
Homura Mitokado, Utatane Koharu, and even Danzo Shimura exchanged secret glances, their lips twitching with barely concealed amusement.
Uchiha Fugaku covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, though his expression remained unreadable.
The Third Hokage's eyes narrowed, dissatisfied with the scene unfolding before him.
They're laughing, he thought bitterly. And saying I'm managing poorly.
Izumi suddenly turned her gaze to Danzo Shimura and said with a sly grin, "I think if Danzo-sama became Hokage, there wouldn't be any hoodlums in the village."
Danzo was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected praise.
He quickly regained his composure and smiled confidently.
"That's right. If I were Hokage, there'd be no more hoodlums roaming Konoha."
The Third Hokage looked at Danzo silently, thinking, You'd no doubt deal with them harshly, yet you have the nerve to claim you'd do better than me.
Izumi laughed lightly and teased Danzo. "Hahaha, Danzo-sama, I'm only joking. You'll never become Hokage—you can just dream about it."
Danzo coughed awkwardly in response.
"Cough, cough."
Uchiha Fugaku also coughed several times, his eyes flicking between Danzo and Izumi. Everyone else stared at Danzo, whose face darkened with anger.
Izumi's smile remained unfazed.
"Danzo-sama, don't take a child like me seriously."
Danzo stood abruptly, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Uchiha Izumi, aren't you being far too presumptuous?" he growled.
Izumi sneered coldly.
"Old man, you're taking an inch because I gave you a mile. Why don't you unwrap the bandages on your eye and arm and let everyone see what's really inside?"
The room fell silent.
Everyone's eyes shifted toward Danzo.
Danzo sat back down slowly, his face calm but guarded.
"This is my secret jutsu," he said quietly. "I cannot reveal it to outsiders."
Izumi scoffed, "Hmph. So you'll always be an unpresentable coward, only able to mutter about 'for Konoha' from the shadows while sucking the lifeblood from this village and sacrificing other ninja to strengthen yourself."
Danzo's face twisted with rage, wanting to order her arrested.
But Izumi pressed on relentlessly.
"As long as Danzo-sama dares to unwrap his bandages, we'll let you apprehend us. Do you have that courage?"
Everyone's eyes bore into Danzo, waiting.
His face flushed a deep red and then paled, but he said nothing.
Izumi turned to Fugaku.
"Clan Head, shall we leave?"
Before walking away, she called back to the group with a warning.
"Oh, and don't keep bothering me when there's nothing important. I don't want to see you again unless that old man Danzo takes off his bandages."
With that, she slammed the door shut behind her.
The room fell into heavy silence, tension hanging thick in the air.
Finally, the Third Hokage sighed deeply.
"I thought you could help solve the Uchiha Izumi problem, Danzo, but it seems it's only gotten worse. Next time, don't bother coming. Your presence makes us passive."
Danzo said nothing, but his glare followed Izumi's retreating back like a dagger.
Uchiha Fugaku turned to the others, curiosity in his voice.
"What exactly is under Danzo's bandages?"
Izumi, from outside the door, answered without hesitation.
"Probably Sharingan—at least eight of them—but all sealed by a powerful jutsu. Even Sharingan can't see through it. That's why he never dares to remove the bandages."
Fugaku's eyes widened in shock.
"What! That many? Where did he get so many Sharingan?"
Izumi shrugged lightly.
"He probably started collecting them a long time ago, especially during the war."
"That man!" Fugaku growled. "How dare he! I will discuss this with the elders immediately."
Izumi gave a final nod.
"Alright then, Clan Head. Goodbye
Uchiha Izumi returned to the office with an air of calm triumph. She sank into her chair and continued sipping her tea as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The moment she settled, the Temporary Workers rushed over anxiously.
"Sir! You're alright! That's a relief!" the Temporary worker foreman exclaimed, his voice trembling with concern.
Izumi raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and asked with a sly smile, "What? Were you hoping something bad had happened to me?"
"No! No, no, no!" They hurriedly shook their heads in unison. "You are our benefactor! The one who saved us all! Hahaha!"
Without warning, Izumi's hand snapped out, delivering a sharp slap across the foreman's cheek. He clutched his face, a cry of pain escaping him.
"Stay away from me," she warned icily. "If you ever come this close again, I won't hesitate to kill you."
The entire group of Temporary Workers instinctively took a step back, their faces pale with fear.
The foreman knelt, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he bowed deeply. "Sir, I admit my mistake for dragging you into this mess."
Izumi's gaze hardened as she addressed the group coldly. "You all have been incompetent! That old man actually dared to call in a ninja to harass me—harass us! How could you let this happen?"
The foreman hesitated, his voice trembling, "Sir… what should we do now? How do we fix this?"
Izumi's palm rose once more, striking the foreman's other cheek.
"Ah! I was wrong! I was wrong!" he cried out, pressing both hands to his burning face.
She crossed her legs gracefully, exuding an aura of command. "You have to ask me that? Fine. Give them a taste of their own medicine. Deal with the troublemakers firmly, and everything else will fall into place."
The foreman's legs shook visibly as he struggled to keep his composure. "Sir, I'm too stupid. I don't know what to do. Please give us guidance. How exactly should we handle it?"
Izumi's patience wore thin. "Why are you so stupid? Isn't causing trouble your specialty? Do I need to spell it out?"
The Temporary Workers put on ingratiating smiles. "Sir, we're hopeless. We can't think of anything. Please, lead us."
Izumi smiled coldly, "What business does that old man's family run?"
"He owns a restaurant," one worker answered cautiously.
"Exactly." Izumi's smile widened. "Since they don't want you walking in front of their shop bothering them, then why don't you go inside their shop to eat?"
The workers blinked, exchanging confused looks.
"Huh?" one asked. "What do you mean?"
Izumi crossed her slender, fair legs once more, the faint shimmer of her graceful limbs drawing admiring, if somewhat envious, glances from the men nearby. They fantasized about holding those legs, playing with them endlessly — yet all understood that doing so would surely invite her wrath, ensuring they'd never see tomorrow's sun.
She sighed theatrically. "You guys…"
---
The very next day, the old man stormed into his restaurant, his face twisted with anger as he saw the hoodlums gathering inside.
"Why are you here again? I told you to stay away!" he shouted.
The hoodlums, sporting their trademark multicolored hair, laughed arrogantly.
"We're here to eat!" one declared boldly.
"Eat?" The old man squinted at them in disbelief. Tables were occupied by hoodlums in groups—some sitting at one table, others at another—filling more than half the restaurant.
His son chimed in, "Isn't it better they're here eating than causing trouble outside?"
The old man grumbled but nodded, instructing his son to take the orders while he went to prepare the dishes himself.
The son approached one table hesitantly.
"Customers, what would you like to eat?"
They flipped through the menu and one scoffed, "Hmm? Miso soup is free? Then we'll start with a bowl of miso soup."
"Okay," he jotted down the order. "Anything else?"
The hoodlum smiled slyly. "Bring the miso soup first. I want to taste how your house makes it. You know, the simpler the dish, the more it reflects the chef's skill. If it tastes good, we might decide to eat here."
The son nodded and quickly brought a steaming bowl of miso soup to each table.
He watched as they took sip after sip, closing their eyes to savor the flavor as if it were some rare delicacy.
Is it really that good? he wondered, puzzled.
The old man, growing impatient, came back out.
"What did they order? Why haven't they given me the rest of the menu yet?"
His son shrugged. "They haven't ordered anything else."
"Huh? I'll go see for myself."
The old man and his son walked through the restaurant once more.
They observed the room filled with colorful hair and loud laughter, the hoodlums chatting fiercely about street stories. When they paused, they would drink miso soup, then continue talking.
At that moment, two young women entered the restaurant. Their youthful and graceful figures caught the eyes of both the owner and his son. However, every hoodlum's eyes immediately snapped toward them, filled with lecherous smiles.
The women's expressions hardened as they took in the scene—so many hoodlums, the lewd looks—and without a word, they quickly fled out the door.
"Tsk!" The old man muttered bitterly.
"That's why your place can't attract customers!" the hoodlums laughed raucously.
The old man's face paled, realization dawning. They were here to cause trouble.
He confronted them. "Why do you only order miso soup? Don't you want anything else?"
One hoodlum arrogantly rested his foot on a stool. "What rule says we can't just drink miso soup? We want miso soup, and we want more!"
"Bring another bowl!"
"Our table wants one too!"
The owner shouted in frustration. "Fine! I'll make it, but you have to leave after you finish!"
"Deal. We'll be out after the soup."
Reluctantly, the owner resumed preparing bowl after bowl of miso soup.
Watching from the sidelines, the owner and his son glared resentfully, wishing they could chase the hoodlums out by force.
When the hoodlums finished and left, the owner sighed in relief.
But his joy was short-lived.
The next day, the hoodlums returned, sat back down, and yelled, "One bowl of miso soup per table! Hurry it up!"
The old man slumped in his chair, utterly defeated. His son looked equally dejected.
Nearby, a fellow restaurateur peeked in and chuckled. No wonder his own business was thriving today. Now he understood why their competitor was suffering. Their "main selling point" of free miso soup was a curse in disguise.
---
For several days, the old man's restaurant remained shuttered. He was at his wit's end.
Other local shop owners—some running stores, others pet shops—also suffered similarly.
The Temporary Workers and hoodlums constantly caused trouble: illegally placing items outside shops, blocking pedestrian paths, dogs barking incessantly, disturbing the peace, and even seizing pets never to be returned.
The constant punishments and the hoodlums' endless excuses made running a business unbearable.
Izumi understood the importance of balance, so she didn't push too hard. The troublemakers were forced to retreat, but they would inevitably stir chaos every few days.
However, those who complained often faced special "attention" from the Temporary Workers, causing a steady decline in complaints.
In the meantime, Izumi enjoyed her peaceful days. She lounged comfortably on a deck chair, reading books and sipping tea, living a life of rare leisure.
Picking up a freshly purchased book, she began reading.
"Pfft!"
She suddenly spat out her tea, then quickly closed the book, looking around cautiously.
Clearing her throat twice, she quietly reopened the volume.
"Jiraiya's Icha Icha Paradise is not a book to be devoured all at once by a Divine Ink user—it must be savored slowly, one page at a time!"
While Izumi was engrossed in her guilty pleasure, the villagers outside continued to suffer daily.
They glanced toward the young girl relaxing so effortlessly, their faces twisted with anger.
Yet no one dared provoke her again.
Crushed under the pressure from the hoodlums and Temporary Workers, they had finally given up.
In desperation, a respected village elder sought out Izumi, humbling himself to plead.
He hoped to persuade her to show leniency toward their shops and the Temporary Workers.
Izumi responded awkwardly, "Oh dear, I never thought they'd be so useful. They really are better than me working alone. I work myself to exhaustion and still get no appreciation. I envy them."
The elder smiled gently.
"That's exactly why they trust you, young lady. They see you're sincere and genuinely care for the people. They just want things to return to how they were before—the way when you alone handled security matters. They promise to cooperate fully."
Izumi hesitated. "That won't do. You know I paid a hefty price to hire them."
The elder reached into a box and pulled out some money.
"This is from all the businesses," he said, offering the cash. "Please accept it."
Izumi's fingers trembled as she hesitated, feeling conflicted.
"This doesn't feel right…" she murmured, but her hands closed tightly around the money.
The elder cursed inwardly but smiled politely.
"No, no, no, this is only right. You've taken so much trouble for this street. How could we let your security department bear the cost alone?"
---
Thus, amidst the chaos, compromises were made.
Though the hoodlums and Temporary Workers remained a disruptive presence, a fragile balance had been struck.
And Izumi continued to watch over her domain, sipping tea and reading her Icha Icha Paradise, ever the unlikely guardian of a troubled street
"Oh, if only everyone was like you, managing this street would be so much easier!" Izumi sighed deeply, a rare softness in her tone. "Then I wouldn't need to be so polite."
She stretched out her hand and snatched the money right from the elder's grasp, placing it firmly on the table with a sharp tap.
"Cough, cough… um…" Izumi cleared her throat and continued, "But you all have to understand—I'm finding this very difficult. Managing this street is already hard enough with so many Temporary Workers. If I were to do it all by myself, how much harder would it be? Sigh. The workload has increased suddenly and dramatically, and I don't see how my time and energy will ever be compensated. Sigh."
She paused, shaking her head. "And what if I suddenly need to dismiss these Temporary Workers? How could I even bring that up with you? Sigh…"
Though the merchants were inwardly indignant, a few even thinking, She's just sitting there playing every day, their faces remained carefully polite.
The old man glanced at the merchants behind him, noticing many of them closing their eyes and silently nodding in reluctant agreement, enduring the discomfort with patience.
Only then did he relax and say gently, "Don't worry. We will ensure these compensations are paid. Please, accept it."
He grabbed Izumi's hand and shook it firmly several times, his eyes full of genuine gratitude. "I beg you, Ninja-sama!"
Izumi's gaze softened, touched by the sincerity. "They always complain about me, and I feel powerless to stop it. If they keep complaining like this, I'll have no choice but to continue employing these Temporary Workers."
The old man shook his head immediately. "No, no. They will not complain about you anymore. In fact, they'll greet you with smiles from now on. If you personally enforce the law, you will be their great benefactor."
"Yes, yes! You are our great benefactor!" The merchants began echoing the sentiment with joyful smiles, voices rising in agreement.
Izumi covered her mouth and said, amused, "That's wonderful to hear. Wouldn't it have been better if we'd been honest with each other from the start? If everyone had been upfront, so many misunderstandings could have been avoided."
"Exactly!" a merchant nodded enthusiastically. "If only we had talked to you earlier, all these problems could have been prevented."
Izumi studied their sincere smiles. For the first time in a long while, her heart felt lighter, as if healed by their goodwill.
---
The very next day, Izumi handed half of the collected compensation money to the hoodlums. She also gave them an extended vacation from their duties.
Then, she resumed patrolling the street on her own.
Her presence surprised many.
She caught their startled eyes and smiled warmly, waving cheerfully. "Hi! Hello, everyone!"
At first, the people froze, unsure how to respond.
"Oh~ Oh, oh, good, good, good!" someone called out.
Realizing that it was Izumi herself, not the Temporary Workers, many began to cheer and clap enthusiastically.
Izumi felt their genuine longing and gratitude, a stark contrast to the hostility she had previously faced.
The clapping attracted the attention of passersby, who grew curious.
Why was this young Uchiha girl so beloved here? Why was her treatment so different from the reputation of the Uchiha Clan in other neighborhoods?
---
Meanwhile, at the Hokage's office, the Third Hokage and the high-ranking officials studied various reports on Uchiha Izumi's actions in Ohe Street.
Danzo Shimura's voice cut sharply through the room. "Hiruzen, we cannot allow Uchiha Izumi to continue acting so recklessly. It's clear that ever since her mother's death, she has become mentally unstable."
Danzo knew Izumi had found a key to peaceful coexistence between the villagers and the Uchiha—by redirecting the villagers' hatred onto the Temporary Workers.
If the Uchiha Clan began adopting Izumi's methods broadly, their collective resentment might diminish, and perhaps the infamous coup would never happen.
That was precisely what Danzo wanted to prevent.
The Third Hokage looked conflicted. "It's easier said than done. The Uchiha Clan now has many experts. How should we handle Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Fugaku? And now, there's Uchiha Izumi—who plays by no rules. It's impossible to predict her next move. This is very troublesome."
Danzo chuckled coldly. "Don't forget, Uchiha Itachi is easier to control than Izumi. We just need to apply subtle pressure, let him feel our desire for peace. Under the weight of his clan's expectations, he will lean towards our side."
"Have Itachi approach Izumi. They have a good relationship, though it's not officially confirmed. Let him gather intelligence on her for us."
The Third Hokage nodded slowly. "That's a reasonable plan. If this situation can be resolved peacefully, that would be best. Unfortunately, the Uchiha have already lost reason, especially this child, Izumi. Such a pity."
---
On her daily patrol, Izumi suddenly heard her name called.
She turned and smiled upon seeing Uchiha Itachi approach.
"Eh? Isn't that Itachi? Long time no see. Are you on vacation?" she asked warmly.
Itachi's face brightened at the sight of Izumi. He noticed not only how much taller she had grown but also how much more beautiful she had become.
"Yes," he replied. "I'm on vacation. The Hokage advised me not to work in Anbu all the time. Taking appropriate breaks is necessary to avoid mental strain."
Izumi smiled knowingly. "I didn't expect your superiors to be so humane. Heh heh heh…"
Itachi gazed at Izumi's radiant face and thought about the heavy burden he carried—the dark, unspeakable deeds performed in Anbu, the constant pressure from his clan. A heavy weight pressed down on his heart.
Seeing Izumi so happy and carefree, her laughter clear and pure, caused his heart to beat faster.
Without thinking, he suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace.
People nearby stopped to stare.
"Eh?" Izumi looked surprised at the sudden embrace in broad daylight.
Though she could have pulled away, she chose not to. Instead, she returned his gaze with a cold look before relaxing back into normal composure.
Itachi buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply, savoring her delicate scent.
His large hands rested firmly but gently on her slender waist and shoulders.
Izumi blushed and whispered shyly, "Hey! There are so many people around!"
Itachi's face flushed with embarrassment as he quickly let go.
"Heh heh, I got carried away," he said sheepishly.
Two girls nearby whispered excitedly, "Did you see that? They hugged in the street! So sweet!"
A shop owner chuckled. "Looks like this little girl has a boyfriend now!"
"A perfect match! The guy's handsome too. I'm jealous!"
"Wow, young people these days are bold!"
Feeling awkward under all the attention, Izumi and Itachi quickly left.
---
They went to a nearby restaurant, sitting opposite each other, both a little embarrassed about what had just happened.
Izumi smiled and teased, "I didn't expect you to be so forward now. Looks like you've learned from your Anbu seniors."
Itachi shrugged, looking shy. "I saw you and couldn't help myself."
"Annoying," Izumi said, narrowing her eyes, though her cheeks flushed. She gave him a light glare with her Byakugan. "Hugging me in public like that—it's embarrassing!"
"I'm sorry," Itachi said quietly, regretful. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Izumi's expression turned serious. "Honestly, your actions just make me more annoyed."
"Huh? Why?" Itachi asked, genuinely puzzled.
Izumi chuckled softly. "You."
She gave him a playful glare with her Byakugan and asked, "Have you eaten yet?"
"Itachi shook his head. "Not yet."
Izumi's eyes softened as she looked at him. Over time, he had grown more mature, more handsome, and every little gesture he made was filled with the charm of a young man coming into his own.
"You can eat here," she said, "but you have to treat me!"
Itachi smiled. "Of course."
---
Thus, a new chapter began for Uchiha Izumi and the street she protected.
Despite the hardships and turmoil, a brand new sense of community was budding—one where understanding and respect might finally take root