Tomoe began her sales pitch in earnest.
"Shinobi tend to live, work, and die alone, but having backers changes everything," she said, her voice taking on the practiced cadence of someone who'd spent decades negotiating. "Right now, you're alone. Decently strong with powerful potential, yes—but isolated. When the political winds shift, when fingers start pointing, who stands beside you?" She paused, letting the question hang. "With allies, you become more than yourself. Your successes reflect on them. Your failures threaten them. That shared stake creates protection you can't achieve alone. They defend you not out of charity, but necessity."
I do like that, charity tends to be fickle and rather not to my tastes.
I turned that over in my mind. She wasn't wrong. Having backers meant I wasn't just some orphan who could be disappeared without consequences. It meant my survival became intertwined with theirs. Good protection, on paper.
But it also meant I'd be used. A weapon they could point at their problems. My actions would reflect on them, sure, but their decisions would constrain me. I'd trade independence for security, and knowing the Uchiha's current trajectory, that security might come with a ticking clock.
Still, she wasn't exaggerating the benefits. Just carefully omitting the costs.
"And not just any backers," she continued, leaning forward with intensity. "The Uchiha. One of the two founding clans of this village. We have history, prestige, and power that run deeper than most shinobi can comprehend. Our name carries weight—in the council chambers, in negotiations, even among our enemies." Her eyes gleamed. "When a Uchiha speaks, people listen. When a Uchiha makes a promise, it's honored. When a Uchiha declares someone family, that protection extends like a shield. You killed a Kage alone. Imagine what you could accomplish with the full weight of the Uchiha clan behind you."
I had to admit that was compelling.
The Uchiha did have weight. Political capital, even if it was currently being undermined. Resources. Knowledge. A reputation that made people think twice. If I were going to weather the storm coming my way, having them at my back would be massive.
But again still, she was glossing over their current predicament. The Uchiha weren't just powerful. They were isolated. Increasingly viewed with suspicion. With all the thievery and public disturbances. Danzo was actively working to marginalize them, and the village leadership wasn't pushing back hard enough. Tying myself to them now was tying myself to a sinking ship.
Unless I could stop it from sinking. Which brought its own complications.
And beneath her words, I could hear what she wasn't saying. The Uchiha needed me too. They needed allies outside the clan. Someone with recent fame, proven strength, and no existing political baggage tying them to other factions. I was valuable to them. This wasn't charity — it was a trade.
Fair enough. I could work with that, if I chose to.
"And then there's Izumi-chan herself," Tomoe said, her voice softening into something almost maternal. "A beautiful young woman from an excellent bloodline. She's kind, capable, and level-headed. Qualities rare even among our clan. She would make a wonderful wife, and you already know her. There's history there, familiarity. You wouldn't be marrying a stranger." She smiled knowingly. "And the children you'd have together... imagine combining your talents with Uchiha blood. A legacy worth building."
My chest tightened involuntarily.
She was right about Izumi. Beautiful didn't even cover it. And I did know her—or at least, I'd known the girl she'd been. Training together, her patient corrections when I fucked up a kata, the way she'd smiled when I finally got something right. She'd been kind to the weird orphan kid when she had no reason to be.
But Tomoe was absolutely laying it on thin about the "wonderful wife" angle. Izumi would make a perfect, marvelous, fabulous, amazing, and every sugary adjective, every compliment in the book, that was Izumi as a wife.
But of course, that was just my opinion, which should be subjective but supremely objective in this case.
And the bloodline talk was pure Uchiha pragmatism. She wanted my proven combat ability mixed into their gene pool. Wanted to tie a Kage-killer to the clan through children who'd inherit the Sharingan and whatever the hell made me dangerous.
I was breeding stock. A stud to strengthen the herd.
Some would have been offended by that, but the world never lacked an idiot.
"Does…." I shufled the thought around, "Izumi knows about this?"
Tomoe's smile lessened. She turned her teacup slowly, and I noticed it was empty.
"Izumi is a brave girl," she said carefully. "Strong-willed, but she understands duty. She knows what's best for the clan." A pause. "She'll do what needs to be done."
I hummed noncommittally and reached for the teapot, refilling her cup in silence.
So that was a no. Or at least, Izumi hadn't been asked.
Did I want to get involved in the Uchiha's clusterfuck? The brewing tension between them and the village, the political maneuvering, and Danzo's schemes?
The answer, frustratingly, wasn't clear-cut.
From a selfish, self-preservation standpoint, fuck no. The Uchiha were a powder keg waiting to explode, and I had enough problems without strapping myself to an active bomb. Getting tangled up in their shit meant inheriting their enemies, their paranoia, their increasingly desperate political position. It meant painting a target on my back that said "Uchiha sympathizer" for Danzo and anyone else looking for an excuse to eliminate threats. It meant my life—and Shiho's, our child's and soon Tsunami and her kid too—became infinitely more complicated and dangerous.
Smart move? Stay the hell away.
But.
But I didn't want things to go like they had in the original timeline. I didn't want the massacre.
Once, years ago, I'd made peace with non-interference. Told myself I was too weak to matter, that getting involved would just mean dying alongside them. Easier to keep my head down and survive.
I couldn't use that excuse anymore.
I'd fought a jinchuuriki Kage and won. I wasn't weak. I wasn't the strongest, but by no means was I helpless. And if I stood by and let the Uchiha get slaughtered—men, women, children, the whole fucking clan erased in a single night—I didn't think I'd forgive myself.
I might be a bastard. A manipulative, self-serving piece of shit who carried stolen panties in his pocket and fingered his best friend's mother under the guise of a massage. I might be a lot of awful things.
But I still had some semblance of humanity buried under all the garbage. However small, however tarnished, it was there.
And that part of me, the part that still gave a damn, couldn't just let genocide happen. Not when I might be able to do something.
There was a pragmatic angle to it, too.
The Uchiha were strong. Sharingan users, elite jonin, the fucking Military Police Force. They were trained, organized, and experienced. In the war that was coming—and it was coming, I could feel it in my bones, Madara and Obito were still out there—having the Uchiha as allies instead of corpses would be a massive strategic advantage. They were a card I couldn't afford to leave on the table.
If they sided with Konoha when shit hit the fan, they could turn the tide of battles. Their dojutsu alone was worth entire squads of regular shinobi. Their reputation could shake enemy morale. Their presence could force other villages to recalculate their strategies.
Of course, that only mattered if they didn't flip the board and fuck everything sideways. After all, the masterminds of the coming war were Uchiha themselves.
Tomoe didn't interrupt my internal debate. She sipped her tea quietly, giving me all the time I needed.
Eventually, I came to a conclusion, or at least, the shape of one.
"I, to be fully honest with you, didn't expect this when I got your invitation," I said slowly. "A marriage proposal wasn't... yeah. That wasn't on the list."
"What did you expect, then?" she asked, head tilted with genuine curiosity.
"Konpeitoo?" I smiled despite myself. "Maybe some of those senbei crackers you used to sneak me."
She laughed, a genuine, delighted sound. "I should have been more prepared! Next time, I promise." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Though I'd say Izumi is sweeter than any candy I could offer."
what…. I blinked. I was starting to doubt my hearing.
She laughed harder. "Oh, don't look at me like that! Those were your own words, you know. You used them on one of my customers once."
I had absolutely no memory of that.
"Your…" I coughed and shifted in my seat, "Your offer is good," I said, shaking my head. "Enticing, even. I can see how it would help. The protection, the resources, the political backing. It's truly…. all valuable."
Tomoe's smile turned knowing. "I've run a shop for forty years, dear. When someone starts a sentence like that, it usually ends in 'but.'"
I sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, yeah."
She nodded, unsurprised. "If it were anyone else, I'd assume you were being greedy. Or cowardly."
"Those are labels people who know me well would probably agree with," I said with a self-deprecating grin.
She shook her head. "Your tendency to tear yourself down hasn't changed, I see."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said smoothly. "I only speak the truth."
We exchanged a smile.
Now it was her turn to sigh. "Is it because of Izumi?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."
"Arranged marriages are normal, Ei-chan," she said gently. "Common among shinobi clans, and civilians alike. Two people learning to care for each other, building something together even if they don't start with passion—there's honor in that."
"I know," I said, and I meant it.
But knowing didn't change how it felt.
Truthfully, I didn't fully understand why I was refusing.
Izumi had been my crush long before I met Anko. Before I'd learned to throw a kunai properly—hell, Izumi might've been the one who taught me that; it was her kunai I used to train with. And from how my chest had tightened when I'd heard her voice earlier, those feelings were still there. Stronger than ever, actually. This wasn't just a childhood crush anymore.
So why did this feel wrong?
I was a bastard. I rarely cared what felt "right." I had Kushina's soaked panties in my pocket right now; the Hokage's wife, my best friend's mother, a woman I fucked and fully intended to fuck again. I didn't have moral high ground to stand on.
What was so different about Izumi?
Izumi didn't like me that way. She loved someone else.
It was such a naive and stupid answer. But it was the answer.
And as much as it hurt, I didn't want to get in her way. Or maybe I just wanted to stay away from her. For my sake as much as hers.
Besides, even if I seduced her—and I could, probably, given enough time and effort—it would be unfair to my other girls. I'd show preference. I knew I would. Izumi would get the best of me, and everyone else would get scraps.
I'd loathe myself for that.
For their happiness, for Shiho's, for Anko's, for whoever else I dragged into my orbit, I had to keep away from Izumi.
I just needed to find a way to keep her alive so she could be happy with—
I cut that thought off before it could finish. Didn't need to ruin my mood further.
"You seem to have made up your mind," Tomoe said quietly. "Youth and hard heads, always a troublesome combination."
I nodded, offering a charming smile. "Stubborn's gotten me this far."
Tomoe folded her hands, that polite little smile settling back in place. "Would another arrangement be more to your liking?" She asked, voice taking on that practiced negotiator's tone again. "Perhaps with a different young woman from the clan?"
"I'd consider it," I said carefully. "But to my knowledge, the Uchiha don't exactly have a surplus of unmarried women."
"Oh, we have several suitable candidates—"
"Of marriageable age," I interrupted, leaning back slightly. I know how these old folks think. "And, if we're being honest about preferences, older would be ideal."
Tomoe's hand flew to her cheek, and she let out a delighted laugh that sounded far too youthful for her years. "Oh my! What a charming young man you've become!" Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she fanned herself theatrically. "Flattering this old woman so passionately. But it's a no-no, I'm afraid. Why, if I were two years younger, I might think—"
"I was referring to women in their prime," I deadpanned. "Not old bones one foot in the grave."
"How rude, Ei-chan! How cruel..." She clutched her chest like I'd struck her. "Ahh, how my poor heart withstands this brutality."
I scoffed, not buying the act for a second.
"It's really such a shame." The laughter died down, and her voice softened. "I do regret that the marriage won't work out. But you can still come to me if you need help, you know. I'm just a useless old woman — can't do much." She laughed. "But I can twist a few ears. Old women are very good at that."
"I'll think about it," I said. "Thank you."
"Think all you like," she said knowingly. "But I know you, Eishin. You've always been terrible at accepting help."
I hummed, not confirming or denying. People offering help were either setting a trap or too decent to wich their help was utterly wasted on someone like me.
But most of the time, they only offer help when they want something. That's what I learned early in my previous life. Sometimes it was money, sometimes it was the feeling of being the "good one." Either way, you end up paying for it. I'd rather owe myself than owe someone who smiles while keeping score.
And when they did it out of kindness… That was worse. Makes me feel like I'd tricked them somehow, like they'd realize I wasn't worth the trouble. Easier to refuse. Easier to let them think I didn't need anyone than wait for the moment they see what I really was.
I shook my head and stood. "I should get going. It was good seeing you in good health, Tomoe-san. I am sorry about the proposal."
"As am I," she said warmly. "But be careful, dear. Just because you trust someone doesn't mean they're worthy of it."
"I know," I said.
I made my way toward the door, offering a final goodbye over my shoulder.
"Don't count the deal as finished just yet," she called after me with a sly smile.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Who knows?" she continued. "I may yet find a mature lady just the way you like them."
Heat crept up my neck. "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, hurrying down the stairs.
I'd expected her grandson to be waiting at the door to give me a parting Uchiha scoff; a ;ast show of pride, but he was still perched on the roof above.
Outside, I heaved a sigh and stared up at the sky.
The sunset painted everything in shades of blue-red, clouds streaked with dying light. Electrical poles cut black lines across the horizon, and a few crows perched there.
Hm….
My hand went to my pocket, fingers brushing the warm, damp fabric of Kushina's panties.
They were comforting, somehow. Grounding. Really effective stress relief, I thought absently. I haven't been lying.
I glanced around. Tomoe's candy shop was closed for the day, but next door was a dango stand still open. Reminded me of Anko. I wondered how she and Tsunami were doing.
It also reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything the whole day since the ramen with Guy-sensei.
Five minutes later, I walked out with a paper plate holding three dango sticks. I bit into one—sweet, perfectly chewy—and nodded approvingly.
I walked over to the electrical pole and set one stick down at its base.
"For you guys," I told the crows, it was an investment. People say they remember faces. Some folks even train them to find money and shit.
I didn't wait to see if they'd take it. Just turned and started strolling through the empty streets.
The Uchiha district was quiet at this hour. And completely empty, I only passed a single person, nondescript, barely worth noticing, and continued on.
Two turns later, I came to a halt.
A shinobi stood facing me in the middle of the street.
My frown tugged upward and upward till it was a grin with all teeth.
I raised my dango stick in greeting.
"Hey," I called out. "It's been a while, Itachi."
Because of course, the moment you start planning against the devil's work, the devil's favorite son appears right in front of you.
— — — — — — — — —
You can read up to 8 chapters ahead at patreon.com/vizem