Chojuro's words faltered halfway, leaving Mei's eyes to harden with annoyance. She already pictured the troublesome conversation awaiting her with that elder.
But when she turned to Yuto, intending to explain—
"You go deal with it. I'd like to see Kirigakure myself."
Yuto waved her off, voice casual.
Chojuro's eyes bulged. This was the second time he'd seen someone interrupt the Mizukage. The first fool was still bedridden for it.
He braced himself for the explosion… but instead, Mei's face softened with respect, even reverence. She had never looked at the elders like that. Never anyone, really.
"Shall I assign someone to guide you? And… what about your identity, should we—"
"No need. I'll learn the village on my own. As for who I am, notify the upper ranks. They'll be busy soon. But don't spread it to the common folk."
Yuto's tone was even.
Not because he wanted secrecy for its own sake. But in this world, even in peacetime, every village spied on the others. News of his return would ripple outward instantly.
With Kiri's current strength, discovery meant annihilation.
Orochimaru, however, wouldn't speak a word. He'd seen too much.
To unify the shinobi world required more than strength. It demanded manpower. Alone, no matter how many he crushed, he could never rule.
Troublesome indeed.
Hearing him, Mei's lips curved faintly, relief flashing in her eyes. She nodded and turned toward the village—
Only to freeze at the sound of his cough.
"…Could I borrow some money?"
Yuto's expression was oddly sheepish.
Mei blinked, then chuckled inwardly. Perhaps he wasn't as stern as the stories painted. Still, her face stayed composed as she drew a coin pouch from her robes and placed it reverently in his hand.
Chojuro's jaw slackened. Before he could recover, Mei had seized him and leapt into the village, calling for him to explain what had happened while she was gone.
Ao bowed to Yuto before hurrying after them.
Watching them go, Yuto smiled faintly. Their loyalty to her spoke well of her leadership.
He glanced at the pouch. Pink. Decorated with a chibi animal.
His lips twitched. So this "mature" Mizukage carried something fit for a schoolgirl.
—
Kirigakure streets bustled around him.
One hand held a skewer of fish balls, the other a steaming cup of tea. Yuto strolled, savoring each bite.
It wasn't as lively as Konoha, but there were still hawkers shouting, children darting, people living.
Buildings were taller now. New structures had risen. But the crowds were thinner than they should have been.
He didn't need to guess why. The era of Yagura. The Blood Mist.
His eyes chilled. If he ever crossed paths with Uchiha Obito again, he'd make him pay in full.
Kiri was dear to him. The comrades who had bled beside him, the villagers who endured war to keep them supplied—these bonds ran deep.
"Haruna, slow down! Don't bump into anyone!"
A weary voice cut through the noise.
A little girl of five or six came skipping through the crowd, sticking her tongue out at someone chasing her.
Then her foot caught on a stone. She pitched forward, arms flailing.
"Haruna!"
A panicked cry rose from behind. A teenage girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, shoved through the crowd with terror on her face.
But she was too far. Too slow.
The child squeezed her eyes shut—
And never hit the ground.
Cautiously, she peeked. She was lying safe in the arms of an older boy she'd never seen before.
Yuto smiled down at her.
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