In the end, the Third Hokage still failed to completely seize the Nara clan's share.
The optics were simply too ugly.
So, in an act of calculated generosity, Hiruzen Sarutobi granted the Nara clan ten percent of the profits.
When Nara Shikaku learned of it, he felt as though a cake had smashed directly into his face—dizzy, overwhelmed, exhilarated.
Ten percent.
That was no small figure.
He had heard Kanzuki mention it casually over drinks—
Ten percent meant one hundred million ryō per year.
And so, the moment Shikaku returned home, he urgently summoned an emergency meeting of the Ino–Shika–Chō alliance.
At present, the leaders of the three clans were:
Nara Clan — Nara Shikaku.Yamanaka Clan — Yamanaka Inoichi.Akimichi Clan — Akimichi Chōza.
Traditionally, the three clans rose and fell together. Even their shinobi teams were permanently structured as trios—one from each clan.
Among them, the Nara served as the brain, formulating strategies and operational doctrine.
At this moment, Shikaku was still visibly excited.
"Gentlemen," he began, eyes gleaming, "you're aware of the situation, yes?"
"Aware of what?" Chōza asked vaguely, chewing on cheap snacks.
Inoichi, however, leaned forward with interest. He knew the Nara clan had been up to something recently. And it was apparently connected to the Hokage.
Shikaku dispensed with suspense and laid the contract on the table.
He pointed directly at the ten percent allocation.
"One hundred million per year."
Silence.
Inoichi let out a stunned "Ah," mouth hanging open.
Chōza's snack slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.
They stared at Shikaku.
Then at the contract.
Then back at him.
"O-One hundred million?"
"Yes."
"Every year?"
"Yes."
Chōza reflexively looked down at his patched clothing. Old fabric. Repaired lining. Even his snacks were the cheap, low-grade kind.
Of course, there was nothing shameful about that.
Everyone in Konoha was tightening their belts.
Other villages had it even worse.
And yet—
One hundred million.
Inoichi and Chōza simultaneously grabbed Shikaku's hands.
"Brother!"
"Real brother!"
"You can't eat alone!"
Shikaku nearly choked.
"I'm not eating alone!"
—
Meanwhile, in Kanzuki's residence—
"I'm not eating alone," Yukino's mother said coldly, clearly dissatisfied with Haruno's implication.
"Mind your tone."
Haruno crossed her arms defiantly.
"I'm the head wife now."
"What?"
"You're my mother, so what? Being my mother gives you the right to question the head wife?"
Yukino's mother's lips twitched.
"Wipe the 'milk' off your mouth before you talk."
Haruno froze—then quickly ran her tongue over her lips, erasing the evidence.
She had heard from her man that chakra nourishment had certain… benefits.
So lately, she had grown rather fond of "drinking milk."
Faced with this rebellious daughter—who had once been meek but now repaid everything double—Yukino's mother felt a deep headache forming.
Haruno had always been sharp, calculating, and vengeful.
But this bold?
She hadn't anticipated it.
Still—
Haruno was nothing if not bold.
In front of her man, she never hesitated to "expand her horizons."
She would arch obediently without prompting.
And with the clothing business booming, she had gradually uncovered Kanzuki's subtle preferences.
Black stockings. White stockings. Suspender stockings.
She had mastered them all.
This made her particularly favored.
Even her own mother—technically the married woman of the house—had been eclipsed.
Yukino's mother had never imagined that one day, she would be competing with her own daughter for affection.
—
Kanzuki stepped out of the bedroom just in time to see Yukino's mother smacking Haruno upside the head.
He couldn't help but chuckle.
With one smooth motion, he pulled Yukino's mother onto his lap and held her close.
Her legs were smooth and supple beneath his hand.
He appreciated the refinement the Yukinoshita household had instilled.
"N-Not now… Haruno's still here…"
Her face flushed crimson as she pushed at his wandering hand.
"Drink your tea first."
Drink?
Of course he would drink.
She had ground it herself.
He kissed her deeply first—tasting her tongue—before reaching for the cup.
"The clothing business—you both did very well."
Haruno leaned in eagerly.
"Is there a reward?"
"There is."
After all, they had helped him secure enormous prestige with the Third Hokage.
He would not be stingy.
"I'll teach you chakra refinement."
Both women brightened instantly.
So soon?
They would step into the extraordinary already?
It seemed their contributions were valued more highly than they'd expected.
And the fact that Kanzuki was willing to teach them personally meant they held genuine weight in his heart.
That was what mattered most.
They both understood perfectly—
In this world, their footing depended on him.
Haruno raised her hand dramatically.
"Leave it to me tonight!"
"I'll help push Mother's hips myself!"
"Even if she cries, I won't stop!"
"I'll make sure you're satisfied!"
Yukino's mother's face darkened instantly.
In these matters, her daughter was always the most enthusiastic.
"Not so fast. Let's talk first."
"But I'm wearing black stockings today."
Haruno lifted the hem of her pleated skirt slightly.
Just enough.
Teasing.
Infuriating.
She truly understood men.
With a sly smile, she slid her pale hand downward, brushing his abdomen intentionally.
She guided his hand toward the delicate string at her hip.
One gentle tug—
And the scenery would unfold.
He inhaled sharply.
She really was skilled.
Fine.
If it meant daylight indulgence, so be it.
He would fill her completely first.
And afterward?
If she was too full—
He'd simply make her swallow.
Yukino's mother slapped Haruno's hand aside, expression dark.
"Shameless girl."
Kanzuki lifted both of them effortlessly—one in each arm—and carried them toward the bedroom.
He was a man loyal to desire.
A pure carnivore.
And so the two women suffered.
The bedroom. The kitchen. The windowsill. The tatami mats. The bed. The sofa. The table.
Traces of battle marked them all.
After all, as the hidden hand behind the clothing empire, Kanzuki had no shortage of garments.
Tear them.
Play with them.
It didn't matter.
Later, Yukino's mother quietly picked up three adhesive bandages, her cheeks burning.
This wouldn't do.
Absolutely not…