The Hidden Cloud Village was built high atop a mountain, its natural terrain serving as an imposing barrier. The main transportation routes were few and easy to guard, making infiltration nearly impossible.
Nearly impossible but not for Uchiha Gen.
After a moment's thought, he devised a simple solution. Using the Camouflage Concealment Technique, he slipped close to the supply caravans bound for the village and discreetly marked their transport wagons with the Flying Thunder God seal.
When those wagons eventually passed through the gates and stopped inside the village, Gen simply teleported in, bypassing every sensory perimeter as though it didn't exist. From there, he walked out under disguise, planting several more seals at key points.
In the future, entering the Hidden Cloud would be as easy as stepping across a threshold.
The Cloud's location atop barren peaks left no land for farming, so supplies had to be imported constantly. In truth, even Konoha relied heavily on shipments from both official channels and private merchants. Ninja were weapons, not farmers. Villages like these lived by violence, not production.
Gen hadn't expected the Raikage to personally go back for his fallen subordinates, so by the time he arrived, A and his retinue were still on the road.
With no target to confront, Gen resorted to amusement. Shifting his form with the Transformation Technique, he wandered the Hidden Cloud's streets. Unless he crossed paths with a sensory-type shinobi, there was little danger of exposure.
Still, there wasn't much to see. The village was sturdy, but hardly as lively or prosperous as Konoha. What truly stood out was the view: an endless sea of clouds rolling across jagged peaks like bamboo shoots piercing the heavens. Snow and wind tore at the skies, and the misty expanse transformed with every gust—majestic, wild, and strangely ethereal.
The scenery was pleasant, but boredom soon crept in. Then Gen's eyes fell on the Raikage Building.
A grin tugged at his lips. Why not stir things up?
Of course, infiltrating the heart of Kumogakure was dangerous. The Raikage's office would surely be guarded by ANBU, and among them, sensor-types.
But then inspiration struck.
He transformed himself into none other than the Fourth Raikage.
The Hidden Cloud had rarely suffered true invasions. No one expected an enemy to stroll into the Raikage Building itself. In such complacency, even ANBU vigilance dulled. And who would dare scan their Kage with sensory ninjutsu out of "respect"?
His gamble paid off.
From the gates to the office halls, no one questioned him. Shinobi he passed bowed or offered hurried greetings. Gen merely nodded curtly, keeping conversation minimal. His unfamiliarity with the layout forced him to wander a bit, but rather than raising suspicion, it gave the impression of a surprise inspection. Tension in the air grew, not suspicion of him, but nervousness of being evaluated by the Raikage himself.
Eventually he found the office. With no hesitation, Gen sank into the Raikage's throne, lounging back with a smirk.
Heh. I haven't worn the Hokage's hat yet, but it looks like I'll try on the Raikage's seat first.
The Transformation Technique truly was absurd. Used against civilians, it could throw entire nations into chaos.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A soft, measured knock drew him from his thoughts. Gen straightened his posture and rumbled in a deep imitation of A's voice. "Enter."
The door opened to reveal a striking woman. She had long white hair, smooth dark skin, and carried herself with elegance in a gray-and-black skirt suit over a fishnet-trimmed red bustier. Black leather shoes clicked softly on the floor as she entered, her figure poised and intellectual, yet undeniably alluring.
In this brutal winter, only the wealthy could afford proper footwear. She clearly belonged among the well-kept elite.
"Raikage-sama," she said gently, a faint smile on her lips, "I heard you'd returned. I have a document that needs your signature."
Gen nodded. "Bring it here."
She closed the door behind her and approached with calm grace, legs shifting smoothly beneath her skirt. When she leaned over the desk to hand him the papers, her blouse dipped, exposing a deep valley of cleavage framed by her dark skin—like an ivory canyon carved into obsidian stone.
Gen accepted the document, pretending to read. He picked up the pen, but froze just before signing.
Wait. This woman's the Raikage's secretary… Mabui. Of course she'd know A's handwriting inside and out. One wrong stroke, and I'm exposed.
"Raikage-sama?" she asked, tilting her head. "Is something the matter? Did you notice a problem?"
Gen lowered his voice. "A small issue. Come closer, I'll show you."
"I checked it several times. There shouldn't be any problem," she said, stepping around the desk without hesitation.
The moment she drew near, Gen's arm snaked around her waist. He pulled her into his lap, her soft body settling against him as a faint, delicate fragrance drifted upward.
"Ah—Raikage-sama! What are you doing?"
Her cheeks flushed as she gasped. Thankfully, the office was well soundproofed; otherwise, anyone outside might have heard.
"Mabui," Gen said smoothly, "I've never taken a wife. Would you be willing to be mine?"
He thought it was perfectly in character for the brash Raikage to be so blunt. In the manga, he'd always hated seeing A act like a thug around women from Konoha, Tsunade, Hinata, others. Now the tables had turned.
Mabui froze, stunned. The proposal came without preamble, crashing down like a thunderbolt.
What should she do? Accept? Refuse?
The Raikage was the strongest man in the Hidden Cloud, the symbol of their village, admired and feared alike. He was a noble of the Yotsuki clan, which had produced four consecutive Raikage—lords not only of Kumogakure, but nobles of the Land of Lightning itself.
Compared to him, what was she? A talented kunoichi, yes, but hardly remarkable beside his stature.
For the Raikage to notice her at all was an honor.
Gen, meanwhile, thought himself almost restrained. At least he hadn't gone for crude coercion. A straightforward confession seemed downright considerate by comparison.
When Mayumi faltered, he leaned in further, closing the distance. His lips pressed to hers.
Her eyes widened, body stiffening. But then, as if surrendering to inevitability, she relaxed, blushing furiously and responding with shy awkwardness.
Gen's hand began to wander—
"Big Brother! I came to see you!"
The office door banged open.
A tall, dark-skinned man strode in, hair pale yellow, black shades covering his eyes. Seven swords were strapped across his back in an odd arrangement, the kanji for "iron" tattooed on his right shoulder as part of the Iron Armor Seal. A bull-horn mark curved across his left cheek.
He planted his left foot, bent his right knee, tilted his head, and crossed his arms in a lazy rap pose. His slovenly swagger radiated wild freedom.
"Huh?"
Killer B froze, sunglasses sliding down his nose as his jaw dropped at the sight before him.
Behind the Raikage's desk, the "Raikage" himself was locked in a scandalous embrace with his secretary.
The scene was shocking, ridiculous and for B, oddly entertaining.