Kurenai, already tipsy, snapped awake at those words.
The entire village now knew Uchiha Kenya was dead. The baseless accusations against him would finally be laid to rest because of that incident.
But if she suddenly stood up now and said, "Uchiha Kenya is actually alive"—
not only would the suspicion against him not fade, it might even deepen under Konoha's ever-watchful elders.
She knew their nature all too well: men suspicious to the core, desperate to keep absolute power in their grasp. She had already seen it once.
With that bitter thought, Kurenai downed the last of her soju.
She reached for the bottle again, but the final drops had already run dry.
"Just live your life as it is. Don't be stubborn. With your abilities, you won't change anything. In two years, just marry someone. That's the life waiting for you."
Kenya's lips curved into a dark, teasing smile. Like Itachi playfully tapping Sasuke's forehead, he raised two fingers and pressed them against Kurenai's crimson brow.
"Hmph!"
Feeling mocked, Kurenai swatted his hand away with a scowl. She hated to admit it—but deep down, she knew he was right.
She was already twenty-two. For a shinobi, growth slowed sharply at this age. If a ninja hadn't shown signs of reaching the level of a Kage by now—or even becoming an elite Jōnin—then the chance would likely never come.
The thought weighed on her. Slumping onto the desk, Kurenai whispered to herself:
Maybe this really is my life… exactly as he said. In the end, I'll just marry, have children…
Still, she consoled herself with one thought—at least as a Konoha Jōnin, she could choose a decent man.
Someone like the late Asuma… a man of name and standing.
But then again, she didn't care about status. She only wanted to marry for love.
It was at that moment that Kenya leaned closer.
"Do you know… you look beautiful when you're drunk?"
"Huh?"
Her head was swimming, the alcohol clouding her thoughts. She barely registered the meaning of his words before she felt her arm pulled gently but firmly—drawn into the warmth of his chest.
Half-asleep, she jolted awake at the sudden closeness. A strange warmth spread through her body, both alien and… comforting.
"No… don't…" she muttered weakly. "This is… betrayal…"
Kenya's gaze lingered on her, and under that crimson stare, Kurenai felt her resistance melt away.
The next morning, when Kurenai finally stirred, the clock already pointed past noon.
As soon as she sat up, a splitting headache forced her back against the pillow.
"Ugh… my head… this hangover is killing me…"
Then memories of last night struck her. Her fingers brushed her lips, trembling.
Did I really…? No… it has to be a dream. A dream!
But when she staggered into the living room, she saw them—two empty wine glasses sitting on the table.
The truth stood before her. No matter how she lied to herself, there was no denying it.
Collapsing onto the sofa as if struck by lightning, Kurenai whispered in a daze:
What did I do…? Am I insane? With that man…?
Meanwhile, in the highest chamber of the Hokage building, negotiations between Sunagakure and Konoha had reached their peak.
Sarutobi Hiruzen spoke first:
"Lord Aizen, Konoha also desires peace. It is true that this incident was our fault, but your demands are beyond what we can accept. How about this—
we will provide twenty percent of our food supplies each year, for three years, and in addition, two A-rank ninjutsu scrolls."
He lowered the price significantly.
But Aizen, ever calm, replied without hesitation:
"We have no need for ninjutsu. What we require is food—thirty percent, for five years. This is the request of the Kazekage."
Sarutobi frowned. "Thirty percent for five years is far too much. Konoha cannot agree to this."
Aizen's faint smile never wavered.
"But Hokage-sama, with the Uchiha clan gone, your village consumes far less food, doesn't it? And unlike the Land of Rain or the Land of Tea—lands that struggle to produce crops—the Land of Fire is overflowing with fertile soil and water. Thirty percent is hardly unreasonable, don't you think?"
The Hokage's expression darkened. After a long silence, he spoke firmly:
"Five years. Twenty percent. That is Konoha's final offer."
Aizen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Five years. Twenty-five."
"Absolutely not." Hiruzen's tone cut like steel.
"Very well," Aizen said at last, smiling as if satisfied. "I only hope Kazekage-sama will accept these results."
At his side, Jinnarō and Ryūzō marveled at his skillful words. Even Pakura, standing behind him, could not hide the glimmer of admiration in her eyes.
To corner the Hokage so completely… as expected of Lord Aizen.