"Wha—?" Naruto's fox-like face went blank. He scrambled to make sense of Mei Terumi's expression, blinking at the Mizukage as if trying to wake from a dream. "So… this beautiful Mizukage lady is Ayato-sensei's girlfriend?"
What a mess. What a glorious, confusing mess.
If the Mizukage really was Ayato's girlfriend, that meant she was Team 7's figurative "sensei's wife." And she was supposedly stronger than the Third Hokage—how cool was that?
"Ayato-sensei is amazing!" Naruto's eyes lit up. The rest of the drama could wait; a girl like the Mizukage on Ayato's arm was all he needed to admire. He stole a glance at Sakura. One day, maybe she'd be his. If Ayato could snag someone that impressive, then Naruto had no excuse not to train his heart out.
"Stop fantasizing," Sakura snapped, glaring at him. She didn't bother hiding how obvious Naruto's daydream was.
Sakura's face softened, though, as she watched Kurenai. She was a woman—a kunoichi—and she could tell Kurenai liked Ayato. Knowing Mei was supposedly Ayato's girlfriend, Sakura worried Kurenai would be hurt. Even Sakura felt a tiny sting.
Mei Terumi was beautiful, and fierce. The girl in Sakura's mind—elegant features, dangerous grace, and a figure that made other women feel oddly inferior. Sakura couldn't help the pang of envy.
Sasuke, rubbing his bruised lip and leaning weakly against a wall, stared at Mei in disbelief. He'd felt that punch—Mei's fist had moved faster than his Sharingan could track. Ayato conquering someone that powerful? No small feat. Respect flickered through him, grudging and sharp.
Hidden among the crowd, many Anbu and elite jonin were stunned too. If Mei truly was Ayato's partner, then all of Kiri's diplomatic behavior made sense—the Mizukage's trip to Konoha wasn't simply policy, it was personal. Kakashi's lazy eyes narrowed with a sliver of respect for Ayato; the whole trip suddenly looked different.
If Mei had come to see her boyfriend, that explained a lot. Kiri sending teams to the Chūnin Exams, Mei visiting in person—none of it was a plot against Konoha. It was just a lovesick leader showing up.
"Cute," Might Guy boomed, giving the scene the wholehearted approval only he could. "Youth in bloom!"
Kurenai's voice trembled low. "Boyfriend…?" Her kunai hand shook; dreams and reality blurred beneath her bangs, and tears spilled down her cheeks.
Sakura touched Kurenai's arm in concern. "Kurenai-sensei…"
The Kirigakure squad stood there stunned too. The mood was heavier than any battle. This was a different kind of wound—one played out in the open, and everyone was watching.
Ayato, hands in his pockets, strolled over and patted Kurenai's head with amused detachment. "Don't cry. Rumors are rumors. When a guy as handsome as me goes steady, women all over will be upset."
He meant that jokingly, but the line hit deep. Ayato never did anything halfway; his casual attitude only stirred the pot more.
Mei's face had darkened. She looked at Ayato like someone betrayed, and for a moment heat flared in her eyes. Then, controlled rage: "You did what to me…? Aren't you going to take responsibility?"
The plaza froze. Wind seemed to stop. Every head turned.
"Take responsibility?" murmurs rippled—what did Mei mean by that? The implication was scandalous, and the crowd buzzed. Kiri's shinobi shot glances at each other, aghast. A single phrase had become a public bomb.
Kurenai's breath hitched. The phrase landed where it could: between the two women. "Take responsibility?" she echoed faintly.
Someone from Kiri's party, embarrassed and frantic, muttered a polite apology and scurried away. The air smelled like iron and humiliation.
Ayato smirked, unbothered. "Come on, I'm good at sharing," he said breezily. "Left hand here, right hand there—perfect harmony."
Kurenai's lips tightened and she stood up straighter, shame and anger warring across her face. She turned and fled, not wanting to be the center of such a spectacle. Her hurried steps were small, but deliberate.
Ayato glanced after her, then watched Mei. "Look, guys, can we not erupt into an apocalypse? One at a time."
Mei, fed up and painfully earnest, stepped forward. Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper intended only for him: "Three days. Decide. If you're going to be with me, then be with me properly. If not—then I will make you pay. Don't take me lightly."
She spun and left, flanked by her guards, leaving a line of breathless Kirigakure shinobi in her wake.
The onlookers melted away, awkward and cowed. Those who'd come to gawk or intervene vanished—no one wanted to tangle with a Mizukage in a mood like that. Soon the plaza was just Ayato and Team 7.
Ayato watched Mei's retreat, then Kurenai's direction, and grinned sheepishly. "What a hassle," he muttered. He liked the drama for exactly five seconds—then the reality set in. Managing one angry woman was annoying enough. Managing two? Exhausting.
He thought for a beat, and then his expression turned sly. "If I have to choose, I'll choose them all," he said to himself, half serious, half joking. He liked his freedom. Why bind himself to a single claim when he could… not?
Sakura blinked. "Sensei, what are you going to do?"
Ayato raised a finger, a lazy smile on his face. "I hate dealing with petty drama. How about we destroy the problem instead? Let's work together and tear the world down."
Sakura deadpanned. "Could you act like one adult for once? Kurenai's crying and the Mizukage is furious."
Ayato waved them off with practiced indifference. "Relax. Hungry dogs come home. Make the women come to you—that's what a real man does."
Sasuke's jaw tightened. Ayato's words struck a chord: power decided everything. Sasuke felt something harden in his chest—if he had enough strength, he could decide his own fate and take revenge on the men who'd hurt him.
Naruto snickered and then—predictably—got smacked by Ayato for his insolence, flying through the air in a spectacular arc before flopping unconscious. Sasuke scoffed, Sakura rushed over to heal him, and Ayato shrugged.
"All right," Ayato said, settling into teacher mode. "You three finished training. Be at the Chūnin Exam on time tomorrow."
Sasuke's eyes burned with resolve. "I'll be a Chūnin," he said, chin up.
A soft voice came from behind Ayato: "Ayato-oniichan?"
He turned to see Hinata Hyūga, cheeks pink. He ruffled her hair as she shyly told him she'd seen Kurenai cry and had been worried. Ayato explained the messy realities of women with a deadpan tone that somehow made Hinata's small, startled smile even sweeter.
Sakura shot Ayato a look. "Sensei—stop corrupting the kid."
Ayato laughed and patted Hinata's hand. Then his gaze sharpened slightly as he noticed a faint, small red mark on Hinata's hand—like a pinprick.
His voice dropped. "Someone hit you and drew blood?"
Hinata's soft admit came in a whisper: "I fell… and then my hand bled."
Ayato's eyes narrowed. Small things sometimes had big causes—he frowned, thinking of a certain scythe-wielder. "Hidan," he murmured under his breath.
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