Chapter 89: The Mizukage's Domestic Affairs
The modest meal was a quiet affair, the scrape of wooden spoons against bowls and the crackle of the hearth the only sounds breaking the tense silence that had followed them from the forest. The warmth of the stew and the simple kindness in Tsunami's eyes offered a fragile illusion of normalcy.
It was shattered by the clatter of the door and the arrival of a small boy in a faded, oversized hat. His eyes, wide and wary, swept over the unfamiliar faces crowded around their meager table.
"Grandpa! You're back!" The boy, Inari, ran to Tazuna, who scooped him up with a tired but genuine smile, placing him on the bench.
"Inari, mind your manners. These are the shinobi who protected your grandfather. Show respect." Tsunami's voice was gentle but carried an undercurrent of something harder—a mother's protective steel, honed by hardship.
Inari clenched his small fists, glaring at the intruders in his home, but said nothing. The resentment in his young eyes was palpable.
[Uchiha Izuna: Interesting. The locals here seem to have a… complicated relationship with shinobi. Not fear, not welcome. Something else.]
[Uchiha Fugaku: It's because they have no village of their own, Second Grandfather. The Land of Waves is a client state in perpetuity. They hire protection. They see us as necessary, expensive tools. Sometimes saviors, sometimes a reminder of their own helplessness.]
[Uchiha Madara: A nation without its own warriors is a parasite. It should have been absorbed. Why waste resources on sentiment?]
[Uchiha Fugaku: Because, Grandfather, it's a buffer. And a poor one. Annexing it would cost more than it's worth and provoke the Land of Water.]
[Hyūga Hizashi: Precisely. It's a geopolitical tripwire. The Fourth Mizukage, in his… diminished capacity, would have understood that, at least in theory.]
The name was a trigger.
[Yagura Karatachi: I understood many things! I was not entirely without agency! …Some of the time.]
Ren took a slow sip of his broth, then decided to lob a conversational grenade into the metaphysical chat. It was too quiet. Speaking of the Fourth Mizukage… I've always been curious about one thing.
[Tobirama Senju: Oh? Do tell. My analytical processors are idle.]
Yagura-san, Ren began, his mental voice all innocent curiosity. You were, presumably, a married man?
A digital record scratch.
[Yagura Karatachi: …That is a deeply personal question. And yes. What of it?]
Before Yagura could elaborate, other voices from Kirigakure's ghostly ranks chimed in, their texts carrying the rough, jeering camaraderie of the dead who have nothing left to lose.
[Fuguki Suikazan: Oh, he was married alright! To a real beauty from the Terumi clan!]
[Hōzuki Mangetsu: Ahem. She was… very striking. A credit to the village.]
[Kushimaru Kuriarare: Fine figure of a woman. Excellent… posture.]
[Tobirama Senju: You vultures! Discussing your own Kage's wife with such… gusto! Have you no decorum?]
[Minato Namikaze: It's disgraceful! Show some respect for the office!]
[Fuguki Suikazan: Respect? For the puppet who let our village bleed? He gets the respect he earned. And besides, we're dead. What's he gonna do, drown us?]
[Kushimaru Kuriarare: Exactly. And if I'm being honest, if she hadn't been the Mizukage's wife… well. A man can appreciate art from a distance.]
[Yagura Karatachi: YOU TRAITOROUS, BACKSTABBING, FORMERLY-SUBORDINATE SWINE! I GAVE YOU THE MOST SENSITIVE MISSIONS!]
[Fuguki Suikazan: You gave us suicide missions with good pay. There's a difference.]
[Jūzō Biwa: To change the subject slightly… wasn't his wife's younger sister the one with the dual kekkei genkai? The Terumi girl? Quite powerful, from what I heard.]
Ren's interest, both feigned and genuine, spiked. Dual bloodline? Terumi? You don't mean… Mei Terumi?
[Jūzō Biwa: That's the one. Fiery temper, they say. And… talented.]
[Yagura Karatachi: …Yes. That's my sister-in-law. Why?]
Ren shrugged mentally. No reason. Just making connections. It's a small ninja world, even in the afterlife.
[Tobirama Senju: 'No reason' my left foot! You've got that scheming tone. You're thinking about the sister-in-law, aren't you?]
[Yagura Karatachi: …]
[Hyūga Hizashi: MONSTER! Stay away from my Hinata!]
[Yūhi Shinku: And my Kurenai! Have some mercy!]
Ren blinked, projecting an aura of wounded innocence. What? I was just asking a genealogical question! Tobirama, you're seeing conspiracies everywhere.
[Tobirama Senju: Conspiracies are my specialty. And your 'genealogical question' has a distinct odor of long-term planning. But fine. Let's follow your 'innocent' line of inquiry. You asked about the wife. Why?]
Well, Ren thought, adopting a lecturer's tone. Consider the parameters of the control. Yagura was under a complex, long-term genjutsu for years. To maintain that without detection, the controller would need to manage his entire life. His schedule, his decisions, his… personal interactions. The most likely point of failure? The people closest to him. Those who share his bed, his home.
He let the implication hang, oily and dark, in the psychic space.
[Tobirama Senju: …You vile, brilliant little fiend. You're suggesting that to maintain the illusion seamlessly, the controller would have to… impersonate Yagura for his wife. Intimately.]
[Uchiha Izuna: It's the only way it makes sense. You can't have a puppet Kage ignoring his spouse for years without raising alarms. So someone… provided spousal support. As part of the cover.]
[Yagura Karatachi: …WHAT.]
His text wasn't just words; it was a howl of dawning, apocalyptic rage and humiliation that seemed to vibrate through the stream itself.
[Hashirama Senju: I'm… confused. Paying what? Is someone collecting taxes from the Mizukage's house?]
[Uchiha Madara: You simpleton! They're talking about… you know. The marital duty. The thing you did with Mito to make children.]
[Hashirama Senju: OH! THAT! Why didn't you just say so? …OH. OH NO. That's… that's terrible!]
[Tobirama Senju: 'Terrible' is an understatement. It's a masterpiece of psychological warfare. Humiliate the Kage, control the narrative, and secure the loyalty of the Terumi clan through… continued diplomatic relations. Nefarious.]
[Third Raikage: I came for a juicy rumor, not a war crime seminar. This is dark.]
[Fū: I don't get it, but it sounds bad!]
[Chiyo: The depths men will sink to for power… it's almost artistic in its cruelty.]
Yagura's presence in the chat had gone silent, but a low, sub-audible thrum of pure, undiluted hatred began to bleed through the connection—a psychic pressure that made even the other dead shinobi uneasy.
Back in the small house, Ren finished his stew and set the bowl down with a soft clack. The sound echoed in the quiet room. Inari was staring at him, his young eyes now holding not just resentment, but a flicker of something else—confusion at the strange, faint smile on the older boy's face.
Tsunami began clearing the bowls, her movements efficient. "You must all be tired. We have little, but you are welcome to rest here. It's not safe outside after dark, with the mist and… and other things."
Kakashi nodded, his eye serious. "Thank you. We'll keep watch in shifts. Ren, Sasuke—first watch. Naruto, Sakura, get some rest. We move at dawn."
As they settled into the grim routine of a mission in hostile territory, the conversation in the Pure Land continued to boil, a stew of outrage, analysis, and profound embarrassment. But for Ren, the important work was done. A seed of doubt, of furious suspicion, had been planted in Yagura's mind. A mind that, once freed from genjutsu, would have been filled with confusion and guilt. Now, it would be filled with a new, clarifying rage.
And a vengeful former Mizukage in the Pure Land was a resource. A resource that might be very interested in donating certain Kirigakure techniques, or information, to the one who had… enlightened him.
Ren looked out the small window at the gathering night mist. Somewhere out there, Zabuza was licking his wounds. And Haku was watching.
But in the economy of the dead, Ren had just made a very lucrative investment. The dividends would come later. For now, he had a watch to keep, and a demon's apprentice to anticipate. The night in the Land of Waves was going to be long, cold, and far from over.