2:30 p.m., Sunagakure.
The afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of the Kazekage Building, illuminating the elegant figure seated at the desk.
Pakura wore a sleeveless black leotard beneath her Kazekage robe, its cut accentuating the graceful lines of her body. The crisp white hat of the Kazekage rested neatly on her head as she reviewed a stack of mission reports with focused precision.
Then...
whoosh!
a swirl of chakra rippled through the air.
In the next instant, Uchiha Gen appeared in the middle of the office.
Sensing that familiar energy, Pakura looked up, surprise giving way to a bright smile.
"It's not even the scheduled day yet," she said, amused. "What brings you here all of a sudden?"
"I missed you," Gen replied, grinning. "And I brought you a gift."
He walked up to her desk and sat casually on its edge, reaching out to take her hand.
"Wait... the password," Pakura teased, pulling her hand back just in time.
Gen didn't miss a beat. "Flat chests don't represent justice, grandeur is justice!" he declared with mock solemnity.
Pakura burst into laughter. "You seriously made that the password?" She gave him a mock glare, then relented, slipping her hand into his. "Only you would come up with something that ridiculous."
"That's why it works," Gen said, smirking. "No enemy would ever guess it."
Their fingers interlaced.
"Still tracking the Akatsuki Organization?" Gen asked casually.
Pakura sighed. "I've had to set it aside for now. They're too elusive. Every team we send ends up hitting a dead end or worse."
Gen nodded. "Good. Don't waste manpower. That organization runs deep — it's best not to wade in without the strength to match them."
She tilted her head slightly. "Sounds like you've learned something."
"It's better if you don't know," he said simply. "I'll handle it."
Pakura's trust in him was absolute. She nodded once, not pressing further.
"So," she said, smiling again, "what's this gift you mentioned?"
Gen reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with a vivid green liquid. He set it down on the desk with a soft clink.
Pakura leaned forward, picking it up carefully. "What's this?"
"It's an anti-aging agent I had someone develop," Gen said with a small, satisfied grin. "That one will keep you in your prime for ten more years."
Her eyes lit up immediately. "Really?"
"Of course. The man who made it is a genius, one of the best minds in the shinobi world. He wouldn't dare trick me."
He smiled. "And under my direction, he's already working on a superior version, one that can permanently preserve appearance. He's making progress."
Pakura's expression melted into open delight. "Wow… Husband, I love you!"
Even the calmest woman couldn't stay composed after hearing that — especially one who, like Pakura, carried both the weight of leadership and the quiet worry of time's passage.
She stood abruptly, wrapped her arms around Gen's neck, and peppered his cheeks with affectionate kisses.
Gen chuckled. "That's it? That's how you thank me?"
Pakura flushed slightly. "Then… what do you want?"
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper against her ear.
"What? Here?" she blurted, eyes wide, her orange irises flashing. "That's too much! You can't be serious!"
Gen's tone was perfectly calm. "What's wrong with it? Just dismiss the Anbu stationed outside. Tell them you're taking a short rest and not to disturb you. Once that's done, I'll set up a barrier. No one will notice a thing."
He spoke with such conviction it almost sounded righteous.
Pakura hesitated, her cheeks flushed. "It's still too…"
But Gen wasn't one to back down easily. He coaxed her with soft words, gentle touches, and a disarming smile. Eventually, her resistance melted, her heartbeat keeping time with his.
An hour later, the office was quiet again.
Pakura stood beside her desk, face glowing red, her ceremonial robe slightly wrinkled and damp in spots. She glared fiercely at Gen, who, utterly unbothered, was using a small orange fireball in his hand to dry off the desk's water stains.
When he caught her glare, he just grinned.
"Alright," he said cheerfully, "finish your work early today. I'll go buy groceries, we'll have dinner together later."
Gen wasn't the kind of man who disappeared right after getting what he wanted. He always believed in tending to the aftermath.
Pakura's anger dissolved almost instantly. "Okay," she said softly, eyes warm. The idea of him cooking for her left no room for irritation.
At five that evening, after sharing an early dinner, Gen finally took his leave from Sunagakure. It wasn't one of his regular visiting days, and he had other plans — staying overnight wouldn't do.
Before returning to Konoha, Gen made a brief stop in the wilderness outside the village. He trained lightly, burning through the energy of the meal he'd just shared.
When the sun dipped low and the sky turned to molten gold, he finally made his way home. Villagers greeted him warmly along the way — part respect, part genuine affection.
He changed into his comfortable home clothes, washed up, and joined everyone in the dining room. Tonight, all three families were gathered, laughter and the clatter of dishes filled the air.
Gen had never been a stickler for stiff family rules. As long as no one spat food while talking, he saw no reason to silence lively conversation.
Dinner was warm, noisy, full of life.
Afterward, Itachi took Sasuke and the younger ones off to play, while the adults stayed behind with tea.
That's when Gen stood and took out six small vials — identical green liquids glimmering under the light and set them down on the table.
He handed one each to Mikoto, Kurenai, Anko, Yūgao, Kushina, and Anna.
Anna wasn't romantically involved with him, but she was close and possibly his future mother-in-law. Besides, it would've been rude to exclude her.
After all, who could resist a graceful woman in glasses and stockings?
As for Gen, age didn't concern him. He pursued eternal life, the cultivation path toward true immortality. Age was just another illusion to overcome.
And really, as the saying went: no girl stays eighteen forever, but there are always eighteen-year-old girls.
He wouldn't discriminate — that would hardly be fair.
The six women exchanged confused glances, turning their attention back to Gen.
"This," he said, gesturing at the vials, "is the same anti-aging potion I mentioned before, a recent breakthrough from Orochimaru-sensei's lab. It'll keep you in your best condition for ten extra years. Skin, appearance, everything."
The women stared, speechless.
"It's real," Gen assured them. "Would I give you something unreliable? Besides, there's already research underway for a permanent version. It's only a matter of time. You'll get that one too — if you butter me up enough."
He struck a triumphant pose, hands on hips, laughing proudly.
He expected them to rush over, maybe even fawn over him a little, especially Kushina, who'd been colder lately.
Instead, all six simply exchanged glances… then got up and left together to test the potion.
Gen stood there, momentarily deflated.
"…Hmph. Fine. You'll come around soon enough." He smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Once you see how well it works, let's see who resists then."
And sure enough, he was right.
That very night, Mikoto, who happened to be on duty, was unusually gentle — affectionate to the point of reverence, making Gen feel every bit the "king of kings."
In the following days, Kurenai, Yūgao, and Anko also grew softer and more attentive, while Kushina's attitude thawed considerably.
As for Anna, her position was different but even she sent a generous gift in return, using her own family's resources to express her gratitude.
Six days later, Shiroichi returned personally, delivering a new batch of stored souls. (T/N: remember Shiroichi is his first created white Zetsu)
With that, Uchiha Gen was finally ready to begin his long-awaited breakthrough, the ascension to the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan's highest realm.