"Lord Makoto, Tsubaki Shizuku has arrived."
The announcement echoed through the Akatsuki Village administrative building. Uchiha Makoto looked up from the scrolls scattered across his desk just in time to see Vortex Tsubaki step inside, a small lacquered food box balanced neatly in her hands.
Ever since their engagement, she had personally prepared his meals each day. Makoto actually employed an entire team of elite chefs, so there was no need for Tsubaki to busy herself with such work. But she had explained more than once, "It's a wife's duty decreed by the Sage of Six Paths himself to cook for her husband."
Makoto had given up arguing.
The chef team had long since been reassigned to the village staff cafeteria. Each morning the Anbu delivered a basket of carefully inspected ingredients to Tsubaki's home, and she transformed them into aromatic, beautiful dishes that she then brought to Makoto's office. His duties left little time to dine at home.
"Tsubaki Shizuku, you've worked hard," Makoto said with a gentle smile.
"Lord Makoto is such a busy man," she replied, half teasing, half wistful. "The only way I can see you is by delivering your lunch."
The comment carried the cadence of a joke, but the truth behind it was plain.
The more investments Makoto made, the more responsibilities the growing village demanded, and the longer his hours became—a logical trap he entered willingly. He didn't resent it. In fact, he thought of it as a happy burden. If someone like the late Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, had possessed such abundant funds, he would probably have worked two full shifts: one in the laboratory and one in the office.
Makoto at least tried to keep evenings free. Still, Tsubaki remained only his fiancée. Moving her into his spacious villa before the wedding would invite endless gossip and tension. When the day finally came, it would be a different kind of battlefield—one he anticipated with a private smile.
They settled at a small table by the wide office window, sunlight spilling across the meal she had prepared. They ate slowly, sharing small talk that, bit by bit, deepened their familiarity and affection.
---
A sudden knock interrupted them.
"The young couple is having lunch, I see," came a dry, amused voice.
Vortex Shinji stepped inside without waiting for permission. He cast a glance at the two and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Honestly, young people today are too cautious. Already husband and wife in all but name—why not simply live together and start a family? Only then could I finally relax."
Makoto arched an eyebrow. This old fox is definitely thinking something indecent, he thought, but he didn't bother to dignify the remark with a response.
He was far more concerned with the village's ongoing security project. "How is the sealing barrier progressing?" he asked, shifting the conversation back to matters that truly required attention.
Shinji's expression sobered. "Quite well. Remember, the barrier protecting Konoha was originally designed jointly by the Uzumaki clan and their allies. The core procedures and technology are the same. The biggest challenge is simply the cost of materials. To cover the entire Akatsuki Ninja Village will require an enormous outlay."
Makoto waved a hand as if brushing aside a trivial inconvenience. "No problem. There's no upper limit on funding for this. Make it grand and flawless. Anything that money can solve is not a real problem."
Shinji blinked. Makoto's casual extravagance never failed to astonish him. Just how much money does this village have to burn? he wondered.
During his weeks in Akatsuki Village, Shinji had grown steadily more confident in its future. Merchants poured in every day. Construction sites expanded almost hourly. Teams of house-builders faced more orders than they could handle. Even earth-style ninjas now competed for low-rank D-class building missions—work they once would have scorned.
Konoha had never been this dynamic. In truth, it could not compare.
Where Konoha funneled most of its resources into its military, its internal economy remained a loose patchwork of individual merchants. During wartime any disruption sent prices skyrocketing and markets into paralysis. Akatsuki, on the other hand, was building a planned economy from the ground up: factories, trade routes, and a carefully nurtured industrial base.
Makoto aimed to seize the first wave of an industrial revolution and establish a thriving economic hub in the Land of Fire with Akatsuki Village as its beating heart.
---
Lunch ended quickly. In the afternoon Makoto invited Tsubaki and Shinji to accompany him to the Ninja Academy. Today was not an inspection but a celebration.
News of Makoto's upcoming marriage had spread through the village like wildfire. To honor the occasion, the students had prepared a series of performances and insisted he attend. He graciously accepted their invitation.
The moment he entered the academy's large auditorium, a wall of cheerful voices erupted. A sea of children leapt to their feet, waving small banners and shouting with unrestrained excitement.
"You came from Shandong, returning to me all white…"
A jaunty song burst from the speakers. Students clapped and chanted along, some even tearing up from sheer enthusiasm. The thunderous welcome made Shinji pause at the doorway, awed. He scanned the bright, eager faces—so fervent, so devoted.
He had never witnessed such a scene.
The academy currently held about three thousand students, and this was only the first generation. Soon there would be second and third intakes, then more beyond that. If all these young shinobi carried such loyalty to Uchiha Makoto, the strength of Akatsuki Village in five or ten years would be terrifying indeed.
Shinji found himself entertaining an almost heretical thought: Konoha's founder, Senju Hashirama, was an extraordinary genius, but such prodigies appear only once in centuries. Perhaps someday even mighty Konoha will have to rely on Akatsuki.
He shook his head at the audacity of the idea, yet the seed had been planted.
"Let's begin," Makoto said softly, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
The program started with an energetic flourish.
---
Several talented young performers took the stage first, singing and dancing with a passion that filled the hall.
"Lord Makoto is our radiant sun…" they cried in unison, voices bright and ringing.
Tsubaki, standing beside him, widened her eyes in surprise. She had always known Makoto commanded deep respect, but she hadn't imagined the sheer scale of his influence. Her earlier understanding now felt almost laughably small.
Makoto chuckled under his breath. The performances, though essentially elaborate praises of his leadership, warmed him nonetheless. Every cheer and lyric was proof that his tireless work—and the immense funds he had poured into the village—had not been in vain.
The hearts of the people can indeed be guided, he thought, feeling a spark of triumph. This is the true foundation of power.
For the first time in weeks, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the moment.
---
When the final curtain fell, the students erupted into another round of cheers, and Makoto rose to thank them personally. The sight of hundreds of eager faces looking to him with absolute trust filled him with quiet pride.
It was rare for him to have a day with so little official business. Rare—and precious.
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