Breakfast was on Kakashi.
Two taijutsu bottomless pits, Guy and Konome, ate like a storm and looked very pleased about it.
Konome did not freeload for nothing. She handed Kakashi a lead.
Take a Shadow Clone scroll to Ningu Mantendō (Ninja Tool Emporium) and sell it. You can get up to five hundred thousand in cash. If it is the Multi Shadow Clone Technique, you might fetch a million.
Kakashi was tempted on the spot.
He knew both techniques, one B-rank and one A-rank, both widely taught across the villages. The theory and seals were near identical. Multi Shadow Clone just burned a lot more chakra and scaled far higher. Because the training cost and side effects were steep, it had been filed as a forbidden technique.
Forbidden never meant unusable. It meant train with care. In a world at war, any technique that killed cleanly was a good technique.
Normally a Shadow Clone scroll might sell for a few ten-thousands at best. Water Clone, Earth Clone and their cousins were not exactly shabby either. Shadow Clone's main draw was its lack of nature affinity and its flexibility, which made it… fine.
A million was no small number. An A-rank job paid about that on paper. Those missions were lethal and often needed a full team. By the time Konoha's ten percent was skimmed, taxes took their bite, and travel, lodging, medical and gear chewed through the rest, a jonin was lucky to clear a hundred thousand after busting their back.
If Konome's tip was solid, this one sale could equal ten A-rank missions.
Kakashi filed it away, no questions asked. Konome had floored Kazama Etsu first, then casually popped four Gates this morning. His view of her had shifted from looking down, to level, to something like looking up. Respect for power and talent had become trust. With her strength, she had no reason to lie over pocket change. That was how he saw it now.
Kakashi would make out well. Konome would not lose either. She was never seeing the ten-thousand deposit again, and she could not pay the balance any time soon. Once a man owed you, you could ask for favors. If Kakashi made a tidy profit off her tip, it would not be hard for her to learn Shadow Clone from him for free. Ten thousand to learn a core technique and boost Kakashi's goodwill, then perhaps tap his library for elemental jutsu down the line. That was a bargain.
The shopkeeper would do fine as well. On the walk to breakfast they had already passed Mantendō plastered with flyers about a five-nature chakra test. A crowd had gathered. Doubters were shushed by shinobi who had been there and seen it with their own eyes. Business was booming.
Konome had managed a tidy three-way win.
After breakfast they split up. Kakashi, now intrigued, headed to Mantendō to sniff around and sell. Konome slung on her little bear backpack and went to school. Guy, provider and debtor, went to the Third's office to report what he knew about Konome and collect a fee.
He wanted to turn it into a four-way win.
It did not go as smoothly as he imagined.
Konoha Administrative Tower, Hokage's office.
Clack. Clack.
The deep-brown kiseru knocked ash against the desk. Black grit spilled out in pinches. Behind the long worktable, Sarutobi Hiruzen cleaned his pipe while he read. The lines on his brow looked ready to pinch a fly to death.
The Uchiha grew more restless by the day. Missions were canceled and clan shinobi recalled. Meetings in the compound ran every few days. Itachi was out of favor and could no longer feed him detail. The report in his hand came from Root's constant watch on the Uchiha.
Five days ago a mysterious wealthy buyer had purchased a large stock of weapons and supplies in the Land of Iron and shipped them in batches toward the eastern Land of Fire. He had ordered Root to unmask the buyer and the final cache.
At dawn the answers arrived. The buyer was the ninja cat clan that kept close ties with the Uchiha. The weapons were sealed into scrolls and ferried home piece by piece on the bodies of recalled clan shinobi.
Uchiha rebellion no longer needed guessing.
Knock knock knock.
A rap at the door, and Might Guy in full green strode in. He held up a freshly scrawled report, letters crooked as bent nails, and got to the point. "Lord Third, the intel you asked me to gather on Konome is complete. Please review."
Hiruzen's frown deepened at the interruption. This was supposed to be a long-term assignment. Today? Done? In a single day even Root's worst methods could not dig much up. Root had needed five days to trace a live arms pipeline. And this brawny simpleton expected him to believe he had peeled secrets off that sharp little girl in one night?
Was the boy here to rob the treasury?
Hiruzen looked at Guy's straight back and honest face and ran through a dozen calculations in the space of a breath. He did not show it. The wrinkles eased and a neighborly smile softened his cheeks.
"Oh, Guy. All done already? Might it be a bit thin? Only bring me what is critical and concrete. If it is just daily fluff, organize it yourself in private."
He sounded kindly, neither lofty nor dismissive, as if he were a grandfather chatting on a porch.
Guy missed the subtext entirely. His house had burned last night. He owed Konome ten billion. He had had to borrow breakfast money from Kakashi. Poverty had his eyes going red. Private organizing would not pay a ryo.
"Lord Hokage, I am certain the intel is important."
He swore it up and down.
Hiruzen let the smile fade. The Uchiha crisis already strained him. Guy's insistence grated. Even an old hand in politics could let it show.
"Forget the document. Keep it short and read it out."
He leaned back, tamped the bowl full, set a coal glowing, and turned his mind back toward the Uchiha problem. Guy's so-called intel barely registered.
Guy wanted the money. He did not care where the Third's thoughts had gone.
He launched in.
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