Hanekawa set down the intelligence report on Hōzuki Castle and leaned back in his chair, processing what he'd just read.
The prison was built in the Land of Grass—a neutral facility shared by all five major villages. Its lord, a man named Mui from the so-called Hōzuki Clan, maintained decent relations with Konoha. According to the file, Mui had once attempted to resurrect his dead son using something called the Box of Bliss. The resurrection had failed spectacularly, creating a monster instead.
Hanekawa's eyes narrowed as he reviewed the details. Interesting. Muku isn't dead yet.
The timeline made sense if he thought about it. Muku was older than Naruto—probably a teenager when he died in the original timeline. But that was years away. Right now, the kid was still alive, which meant the Box of Bliss hadn't been opened yet.
And that's a problem, Hanekawa thought, drumming his fingers on the desk. Because I need that box.
Opening the Mangekyō Sharingan required a specific catalyst—massive amounts of chakra. In the original story, Naruto's Nine-Tails chakra had done the trick. But Hanekawa couldn't exactly drag a pregnant Kushina to Hōzuki Castle without raising questions.
He needed another source of power. His mind immediately went to Kazuma.
One of the Twelve Guardian Ninjas of the Land of Fire, Kazuma harbored a dangerous philosophy: the Land of Fire needed only a Daimyo, not a Hokage. That ideology had made him an enemy of Konoha. In the original timeline, he'd collected Nine-Tails chakra during the rebellion and sealed it into his son Sora, creating a pseudo-jinchūriki.
If he has that chakra now, I can use it. If he doesn't, I'll find another way.
A knock interrupted his thoughts. Aoi entered with her usual efficient bow.
"Lord Hanekawa, the Fourth Raikage and his delegation have been collected by Mabui and Samui. No incidents."
"Good. They're leaving this afternoon?"
"Yes, sir. They seem... eager to depart."
Hanekawa almost laughed. Can't blame them. Getting captured by a kid probably isn't great for morale.
"Let them go. And Aoi—send someone to investigate Kazuma's current whereabouts and activities. Discreetly."
"Understood."
After she left, Hanekawa stood and headed for the ANBU training grounds. He'd been working through different elemental releases—Lightning, Wind, Fire. Today he planned to focus on Ice Release, copied from one of the ANBU operatives.
The afternoon found him back at Shikkotsu Forest, attempting Sage Mode again. No breakthrough yet, but he wasn't discouraged. Patience. The system will handle it eventually.
---
Samui woke early the next morning with a decision already made.
She opened her closet and pulled out the red cheongsam she'd purchased—the one with the daring slit up the thigh. Her fingers hesitated on the fabric for several seconds before she set it aside.
Not today. Mabui needs help with the mission hall.
"You seem distracted," Mabui observed over breakfast, noticing Samui's wandering attention for the third time.
"I'm fine," Samui said automatically.
"You're sure?"
"Just tired. I think I'll rest this afternoon."
Mabui nodded approvingly. "Your health comes first."
Samui returned to her room and found Hanekawa already there, reading through a scroll on ninjutsu techniques.
"Lord Hanekawa," she said, bowing deeply. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting."
"I just arrived." He glanced up, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before returning to the scroll. "Go ahead and change."
Samui moved toward the closet, then froze. How am I supposed to change with him in the room?
"I won't look," Hanekawa said without turning around, moving to the window and facing away from her.
She hesitated only briefly before pulling out the cheongsam. Her hands moved quickly, removing her clothes and sliding into the red silk. The fabric hugged her curves perfectly, the high slit revealing long, pale legs with each movement.
"Done," she said softly, her face warm.
Hanekawa turned, and his expression shifted—a flicker of genuine appreciation crossing his features.
The cheongsam was stunning. Red silk with black and gold suspenders that crossed at her neck, supporting the generous neckline. The waist was cinched tight, the thigh slit revealing smooth, white skin. Samui stood with practiced composure, though her shy expression undermined the cool facade she was attempting.
"Beautiful," he said simply.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Though it's a shame to waste this view on the village." Hanekawa smiled. "I know somewhere more private."
Samui's heart jumped. "Where?"
"Behind the Hokage Rock. No one goes there anymore—it's restricted since my teacher became Hokage." He extended his hand. "Can you leave now?"
"I told Mabui I needed rest."
"Then let's go."
She took his hand, and the world blurred. The Flying Thunder God technique deposited them on a hillside behind the massive stone faces, surrounded by dense forest. The area was completely isolated.
"After Tsunade became Hokage, this entire zone became off-limits," Hanekawa explained, leading her deeper into the woods. "Only the craftsmen working on the monument are allowed here."
Samui followed, acutely aware of his hand holding hers. "It's very quiet."
"Are you nervous?" he asked, glancing at her.
"A little," she admitted, surprising herself with her honesty.
"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
They reached a small cliff overlooking a river—only five or six meters high, but the view was spectacular. Hanekawa spread out a carpet and sat, pulling her down beside him.
Samui kept her legs together, maintaining some semblance of propriety, but when Hanekawa took her hand, she didn't pull away. Her fingers were trembling slightly.
"You're thinking about something," he observed, playing with her hand. It was soft, delicate—like jade.
Samui's breath hitched. "I... I don't want to rotate back to the Hidden Cloud."
Hanekawa paused, studying her face. She's serious.
"Have you eaten?" he asked instead of responding.
"No."
He retrieved a bento box—still warm, the food clearly prepared recently. Samui opened it and found perfectly made sushi, chicken steak, and vegetables arranged with care.
"Did you make this?" she asked, surprised.
"Just something I threw together."
Just something? The sushi was the best she'd ever tasted. The chicken was perfectly seasoned. Everything was exceptional.
They ate in comfortable silence, sitting at the cliff's edge overlooking the river. Samui found herself thinking about their first meeting—how he'd defeated her in combat, then taught her swordsmanship anyway. She'd heard stories about him ever since. The prodigy. The spy. The one who'd conquered the Hidden Cloud.
And now she was here, in a cheongsam, eating food he'd prepared, and she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
"Try this," Hanekawa said, offering her a piece of chicken on his chopsticks.
She leaned forward and took it from his hand, their eyes meeting briefly. The intimacy of the gesture made her pulse quicken.
When the meal was finished, Hanekawa reached out and gently touched her face. "You forgot something."
"What?" Samui's voice was barely a whisper.
He withdrew his hand and reached for her ankle instead, sliding off her shoe to reveal her bare foot. "Black stockings. They were supposed to go with the cheongsam."
Samui's breathing hitched. I did forget them. I was in such a rush when he was in the room...
"Where are they?" he asked, already caressing her foot.
She retrieved the black stockings from her bag with shaking hands. Hanekawa took them and began sliding them up her leg with deliberate slowness—over her toes, along her calf, up her thigh. His fingers traced the fabric as it settled against her skin.
Samui's body tensed, but she didn't resist. When he reached for the second stocking, she watched as he repeated the process, his hand lingering on her thigh afterward.
"How does it feel?" he asked, stroking the black silk.
"G-good," she managed.
"Black stockings with a cheongsam..." Hanekawa tilted his head thoughtfully. "Actually, I think you'd look better in a secretary uniform. When I become Raikage, you can be my secretary."
"Raikage?" Samui's eyes widened. "Don't you want to be Hokage?"
"Why limit myself to one?" He smiled, his hand moving along her thigh. "I could be both."
Samui's breathing quickened as she instinctively pressed her legs together, trapping his hand between her black silk-covered thighs.
"Do you want that?" he asked softly.
"Y-yes," she breathed, her face flushed crimson.
---