Chapter 88: Of Wives, Warlords, and Window Shopping
Zabuza's retreat was not a graceful one. He vanished into the forest with a choked-off curse and the clatter of dislodged stones, trailing blood and a palpable aura of thwarted rage. The crimson-tinged mist dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving behind the smell of ozone, burnt earth, and copper.
Kakashi watched the tree line for a long moment, his Sharingan slowly spinning down. He didn't pursue.
"He'll be back," Kakashi said, his voice flat. "But not today. With that injury, he needs treatment. We bought time."
Ren wiped a speck of soot from his cheek. "Time is money. And a crippled demon is less of an overhead."
Naruto bounced on the balls of his feet, a mix of adrenaline and frustration. "Aw, man! He got away! And Ren stole my thunder again! But… at least it wasn't Sasuke."
He shot a glance at his raven-haired rival, seeking solidarity in shared irrelevance.
Sasuke ignored him. His Sharingan was deactivated, but his gaze was fixed on the smoldering crater, his mind racing down labyrinthine paths of comparison. How? One month. From dead last to… this. A Jonin, maimed, without Ren even breaking a sweat. What did he do? What did he see that I didn't? The questions gnawed at him, more painful than any physical wound.
Sakura, meanwhile, had no room for such complex calculations. Her green eyes were wide, fixed on Ren's profile as he casually brushed dirt from his sleeve. In her mind, the sequence replayed: the calm assessment, the single word, the cataclysm. It wasn't just power. It was control. It was… cool. A flush crept up her neck. The earlier fear was gone, replaced by a fluttery, warm feeling she couldn't quite name, but it felt suspiciously like the start of every bad romance novel she'd ever hidden under her Academy textbooks.
The rest of the journey was uneventful, the forest path giving way to the soggy, salt-scrubbed outskirts of a coastal village. An hour later, they stood before a modest, weather-beaten house that seemed to lean into the sea wind for support. Poverty wasn't just present here; it was etched into the warped wood, the patched roof, the empty fish racks.
The door opened.
The woman who stood there was, in a word, striking. Her features were gentle yet resilient, her hair the color of dark honey tied back in a simple, practical style. She wore a faded but clean dress, and her smile, though tired, was genuine as she ushered them in. This was Tsunami, Tazuna's daughter-in-law, the "still-attractive" one he'd tearfully mentioned.
The interior was as sparse as expected. No tatami, just worn floorboards. Minimal furniture. Yet, the smell coming from the small hearth was rich and inviting—a fish stew with herbs, simple but crafted with care. Despite their obvious hardship, Tsunami had prepared a feast by their standards.
In the Pure Land, the commentary took a sharp turn from tactical analysis to… aesthetic appreciation.
[Tobirama Senju: Hm. The client is… visually unremarkable. His daughter-in-law, however, possesses a certain… sturdy comeliness.]
The chat paused.
[Uchiha Izuna: Tobirama! She's a married mother! Have you no shame?]
[Uchiha Madara: 'Sturdy comeliness'? The woman has a child old enough to wield a kunai! Control yourself!]
[Tobirama Senju: I was merely offering a sociological observation on phenotypic variance within familial units! Your minds are cesspools!]
Ren, helping to set the crude wooden bowls, decided to stir the pot. Tobirama, when a man comments on a woman's appearance unprompted, his first instinct is his truest. Admit it. What was your first, primal thought?
[Tobirama Senju: It was an academic assessment!]
Bullshit, Ren shot back, his mental voice grinning. Studies show—and by studies, I mean common sense—that when a man calls a woman 'comely,' his lizard brain is already three steps ahead, contemplating the… logistics.
[Tobirama Senju: I HAVE NO SUCH LIZARD BRAIN! …Anymore.]
[Minato Namikaze: You know… Ren might have a point. Not that I'm condoning it! But, scientifically speaking, initial attraction is often… visceral. When I first saw Kushina, there was definitely a… biological recognition.]
[Kushina Uzumaki: MINATO!]
[Pakura: You beast!]
[Uchiha Mikoto: The Fourth Hokage… I'm shocked.]
[Uchiha Izuna: Let me get this straight. You were seven. You saw a red-haired girl, and your 'biological recognition' fired up? You were a tiny, hormonal monster!]
[Minato Namikaze: It was pure! The heart and the… other stuff… can be separate!]
[Uchiha Fugaku: Clears throat On this… delicate subject… I must side with Minato. The initial impetus for my pursuit of Mikoto was not… entirely divorced from such base considerations.]
[Uchiha Mikoto: FUGUKU!]
[Uchiha Fugaku: My love, it's the truth! If not for that spark, why pursue at all? Friendship is for comrades. Romance requires… a foundation.]
Ren added fuel. See, Tobirama? Even the clan heads admit it. It's natural. We're all dead here. No reputations to uphold. Speak your truth. When you saw Tsunami, what was the first, unfiltered thought?
A long, digital sigh.
[Tobirama Senju: …Fine. Very well. The thought… crossed my mind. Briefly. A hypothetical, purely mechanical consideration. Satisfied?]
[Uchiha Izuna: HA! I knew it! You sanctimonious prig!]
[Hashirama Senju: Tobirama! I'm… disappointed!]
Don't be so hard on him, Dazhu, Ren interjected. People have types. Some like the untouched blossom. Some appreciate the… cultivated garden. And some… He let the implication hang. There was a legendary figure where I'm from, a warlord named Cao Cao. His particular… appreciation… was for the wives of other men. Collected them, they say. Dozens. A connoisseur.
The chat digested this.
[Tobirama Senju: This 'Cao Cao'… he had a refined, if unorthodox, palate. I… can respect the dedication to a niche.]
[Uchiha Izuna: Tobirama, you idiot! He's comparing you to him! Don't you remember? You had that whole weird tension with Mito-sama after my brother died!]
[Hashirama Senju: …]
The psychic record scratched. Hashirama' text was just a series of dots.
[Tobirama Senju: IZUNA! YOU SOWING-DISCORD, GRAVE-ROBBING, HAS-BEEN! THAT WAS PLATONIC ADMINISTRATIVE SUPPORT DURING A TIME OF GRIEF!]
[Uchiha Izuna: Sure, sure. 'Administrative support.' Is that what they're calling window-shopping these days?]
Ren held up a mental hand. Whoa, whoa. I never said that. Izuna's putting words in my mouth. I was just sharing an interesting historical anecdote about a man with specific tastes. Tobirama's tastes are his own business. Maybe he just… appreciates maturity. Stability. A partner who's already survived the initial marital skirmishes.
The conversation in the Pure Land devolved into a chaotic blend of outraged denials, historical gossip, and philosophical debates about posthumous ethics.
Back in the small, warm house in the Land of Waves, Ren accepted a bowl of stew from Tsunami with a polite smile. "Thank you. It smells wonderful."
Tsunami smiled back, a faint blush on her cheeks. "It's the least we can do. Thank you for protecting my father-in-law. And… for what you did out there. The explosion… we heard it."
"Just doing the job," Ren said, his eyes flicking to the window, where the mist was beginning to gather again as evening fell. The reprieve was temporary. Zabuza was wounded, but not gone. And his apprentice, the one with the heart of a true hunter and the power to freeze blood, was still out there, unseen.
The real danger hadn't left. It had just changed shape. And it was watching, waiting for the moment when the protectors let their guard down, distracted by full stomachs, a warm hearth, and the treacherous, comforting illusion of safety.