"Good day, Lord Juno. This is matatabi brew — please try it, meow."
"Good day, Lord Juno. Freshly roasted fish — please have a bite, meow."
"Meow — work hard, one day you'll tame the Uchiha's Mangekyō and become the top cat, meow!"
The Ruins Ward lived up to its name: abandoned, lawless, outside any nation's protection — perfect territory for the Nekomata Clan, the shinobi cats.
Waddling through the alleyway like a pompous little daimyo, a plump orange-and-white cat strutted forward—belly swaying, paws clicking with theatrical self-importance. His snug crimson outfit strained around his middle, and emblazoned across his back in gaudy gold stitching was a single word, bold and unapologetic: MARTIAL.
Every ninja-cat turned to stare, eyes full of envy, awe… and abject flattery.
Ever since Uchiha Soren awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan, Juno — once a lazy, round-bellied stray on the outskirts — had become a celebrity. Where he once scrounged for scraps, now every young cat scrambled to curry favor with him.
"I used to think Soren would die as a missing-nin…"
"Now look — we're practically feeding a fat cat from a silver bowl."
Juno ignored the murmurs. His tail flicked triumphantly.
He had big dreams, after all — dreams of food, naps, and eternal luxury.
(Tomorrow I'll go rub my status in Taiga's face. That fool said their dried fish was better than Soren's hand-fed treats — ridiculous.)
The plump cat strutted deeper into the ruined settlement until he reached the holiest chamber in the Nekomata domain — the Chieftain's Den.
The Nekomata Chieftain, scarred and massive, lounged on a stone dais. Even Juno, newly proud, felt a prickle of respect.
"Meow! Lord Nekomata — you summoned me?" he asked, already bracing for something important.
The air was thick with the rich scent of matatabi. The chieftain poured a cup of the spicy brew, sipped, then leaned forward with a conspiratorial purr.
"I have news for Lord Soren, meow."
Juno's ears perked.
"What's up, meow?"
The chieftain's whiskers twitched with amusement.
"The Fire Country's daimyo has sent an envoy to Konoha: his heir, Prince Minamoto Ichihiko, and the princess, Minamoto Kaori. Word is the daimyo intends to offer Princess Kaori's hand in marriage to Uchiha Soren… and to name Senju Tsunade as an adopted princess."
Juno's jaw dropped. His whiskers trembled violently.
"Why would someone so high and mighty offer his daughter to Lord Soren?"
The chieftain let out a knowing hum.
"Politics, meow. People bow to strength. The daimyo fears the Uchiha — so he seeks closeness through marriage. A leash of silk is still a leash."
He tapped Juno's forehead gently.
"You, Juno, are blessed. Stay close to Lord Soren — your future will be soft cushions and fish feasts."
Juno's eyes shone with pride. Whether he grasped the politics or not hardly mattered — he knew his duty, and he had delivered countless critical messages before. Without him, Soren might have died on a battlefield long ago.
Hours later, droplets of bathwater still clinging to his fur, Uchiha Soren sensed a ripple in the air — a summoning flare.
A round orange blur shot out of the void, landed on Soren's chest, and clung there like a wet dumpling.
Soren caught him with a sighing laugh.
"Juno, how many times must I tell you — be calm?"
Juno puffed his chest out like a proud rooster.
"Meow! Juno is very calm! Juno only comes bearing good news! Lord Soren will have a wife soon, meow!"
Soren froze.
Then he pinched the cat's cheeks.
"Where did you hear that?"
"From Lord Nekomata, meow!"
Soren stilled.
This was no ordinary rumor.
A marriage proposal from the daimyo's house was a political maneuver — not a romance. A princess was leverage, not a prize. If Soren were naïve, he would accept and tie the Uchiha to the daimyo's leash.
But Soren's ambitions reached far beyond the Hokage's seat — far beyond Konoha, even.
The daimyo wanted influence.
Soren wanted power.
And power didn't kneel.
"Juno — keep watch on the daimyo's envoy. Especially Princess Kaori."
Juno saluted with both paws.
"Meow! Juno will monitor everything — every breath, every crumb of food, every… hairpin!"
Soren laughed, then hugged the cat close.
"Good. Information is power. If the daimyo wants to offer gifts, we will accept them…"
His smile sharpened.
"…but we won't let anyone hold the reins."
The cat purred fiercely — a tiny orange lord in the embrace of a rising king.
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