"Master! Master, wait for me!"
the immature voice of a seven or eight-year-old girl suddenly rang out across the bustling, noisy street.
Pakura, who was walking ahead, sighed and turned around.
She looked down at Maki, who was clutching a heavy bag of fish in both hands, struggling to take each step.
Seeing the girl's stubborn effort, Pakura felt a twinge of heat between her own thighs.
The Wood of Purity—that cursed yet pleasurable redwood plug Rasa had forced into her—shifted slightly with her movement, rubbing against the sensitive walls of her rectum.
Pakura quickly walked back toward her, her voice a mix of frustration and doting affection.
"I told you that you didn't need to carry that, but you just wouldn't listen. Look at you now, all worn out."
Maki, whose cute face was marked with two playful purple triangles, was barely half as tall as Pakura.
She looked up, her small face drenched in sweat, but her expression remained defiant.
"I'm your apprentice! How can I call myself a student if I don't help my Master share the burden?"
Pakura, who was already carrying several heavy bags, shook her head helplessly and turned to lead the way again.
However, this time she deliberately slowed her pace, making sure to wait for the little girl.
Maki gripped the bags of fish—each weighing five or six pounds—and followed closely.
While ninjas generally possessed superior physical constitutions, Maki was still very young and a girl; her stamina couldn't yet match that of a boy her age.
Carrying over ten pounds of dead weight while walking continuously was clearly pushing her limits.
Pakura, walking in front, carefully controlled her gait.
Every time she stepped too wide, the redwood plug inside her would thrust deeper, making her pussy leak a bit of slick moisture into her panties.
She glanced back at her student occasionally.
Seeing Maki's struggle made her heart ache, but she knew the girl's temperament.
Maki was incredibly sharp, and her talent for Ninjutsu was well above average, satisfying Pakura in almost every way.
But that streak of competitive pride—that refusal to back down—was a constant source of headaches for her.
The fish Maki carried had been slaughtered only minutes ago, and the pungent, iron-like scent of fresh blood wafted from the bags.
Yet, as Maki inhaled that unique smell, her face showed no disgust; instead, she looked ecstatic.
In Sunagakure, a village surrounded by nothing but endless dunes, fish was a luxury beyond measure.
In the old days, even the Kazekage or Elder Chiyo struggled to have fresh fish on their table.
For ordinary ninjas and civilians, it was an impossible dream.
Only elite ninjas capable of taking high-ranking international missions could taste such delicacies while abroad.
The middle and lower-class ninjas, along with the common folk, only knew of "fish" through legends and stories.
But all of that had changed six months ago.
Ever since the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, took the throne, the world had been turned upside down.
He hadn't just killed the Third Raikage and his son; he had miraculously ended the Third Great Ninja War in a landslide victory.
For the first time in history, the Sand Village enjoyed the status of a victor, capable of demanding brutal reparations from the defeated nations.
Thinking of Rasa, Maki felt a sudden surge of strength.
The man was a god in her eyes—the savior who had transformed their lives.
She straightened her back and hurried to catch up with Pakura.
Lord Rasa had achieved what no other Kage before him could even imagine.
With minimal cost, he had secured vast water rights from the Land of Rain and the Land of Water.
Sunagakure had lived in a state of permanent thirst for generations, where a single cup of water was reused ten times for different chores.
Now, they finally knew the simple, carnal joy of having enough water to actually wash their bodies properly.
Even though each civilian family was still limited to a hundred liters and had to be careful, the situation was a thousand times better than before.
Fruits and fresh seafood were now traded openly in the village markets at prices the common man could actually afford.
In Maki's eyes, every bit of this progress was a gift from the Fourth Kazekage; everything was credited to his dominance.
And she wasn't alone; every student and instructor at the Ninja Academy felt the same fanatical devotion toward Rasa.
Pakura, watching her student from the corner of her eye, noticed Maki suddenly perk up and smile for no reason.
Despite the sweat on her brow, the girl was practically skipping now.
Pakura's lips curved into a slight smile, though she was inwardly confused.
What was that little brat so happy about all of a sudden?
Seeing her student speed up, Pakura also increased her pace, eager to return to Rasa's mansion.
Rasa was away in that mysterious "New World," and Karura's pregnancy was entering its final stages.
The women Rasa had claimed as his own in the Sand Village had a tacit agreement.
Whenever they weren't occupied with urgent village affairs, they would gather at Rasa's house to keep Karura company and share a warm meal.
Deep down, Pakura felt a bit of resentment that her own womb remained empty despite Rasa's frequent and aggressive seed-planting.
But it was a hollow bitterness, never turning into true jealousy toward the others.
At the landing pad on the outskirts of the village, several Swifts were preparing for another flight.
They had just finished unloading crates of fresh sea bass and shellfish.
These flying machines had been permanently assigned to a supply route.
Every single day, they flew back and forth between the island bases in the Land of Fire and the Sand Village.
They provided a never-ending stream of resources that kept the village thriving.
The mission was repetitive and boring, but the pay was legendary for a C-rank task.
More importantly, there was almost zero risk of death—just the cost of a few weeks of travel time.
For Genin and newly promoted Chunin without powerful clan backing, it was the most sought-after job in the village.
Sunagakure was no longer the broke, dilapidated shithole it had been six months ago.
Victory in the Third War had catapulted the village's reputation to the top of the ninja world.
The Kazekage Building was flooded with hundreds of mission requests daily, and the rewards were far higher than they used to be.
Every Sand ninja who walked through those doors could find a mission that suited them perfectly.
The days of ninjas waking up at dawn to fight over scraps—dangerous missions with pathetic pay—were long gone.
The civilians felt it too.
As long as they were willing to work hard, they could find high-paying labor in the industrial zones a hundred miles outside the village.
And if they preferred to stay within the walls, there were plenty of comfortable service jobs to be had.
Sunagakure was on a meteoric rise, a golden age where opportunity was everywhere.
"Sister Pakura! Little Maki! You're back?"
The heavy front door of the mansion slid open slowly.
A quiet, gentle girl poked her head out, her large, watery eyes blinking at them with curiosity.
"Sister Yashamaru!" Maki chirped, greeting her with a respectful bow.
Yashamaru stepped out and immediately noticed the heavy bags Maki was hauling.
She rushed forward and snatched them from the girl's hands, giving Pakura a look of mild reproach.
"Sister Pakura, how could you let a child like Maki carry something so heavy?"
"What if the strain stunts her growth? Rasa would be furious if his little favorite didn't grow up right."
Pakura gave a weary, wry smile.
"She insisted on it. I care about my student more than anyone, you know that. I tried to take them, but she wouldn't let go."
Maki tugged at Yashamaru's skirt, her eyes wide and innocent.
"Sister Yashamaru, it was my choice! I wanted to prove I'm strong!"
Yashamaru shook her head and turned back toward the house.
"Honestly, being 'strong' shouldn't involve breaking your back before you hit puberty. Come on, get inside."
Pakura followed behind, closing the door and locking it securely.
She watched the tall and short silhouettes of the two girls walking ahead of her, chatting away.
A genuine smile finally touched her face.
Though she and Yashamaru had experienced some friction when Rasa first "collected" them, those petty grudges had vanished over the last six months of living as a family.
Maki walked into the grand hall and saw the woman sitting on the sofa, her belly massive and round.
Beside her was Kagerō, the devastatingly beautiful woman in a shimmering white kimono, exuding an aura of pure, concentrated lust.
Maki, who was a frequent guest at these "family" dinners, knew them both well.
"Aunt Karura! Aunt Kagerō!" she greeted them cheerfully.
Karura, nearly seven months pregnant, had a face radiating maternal warmth.
The child she carried was Rasa's first legitimate heir, and the village treated her like royalty.
She tried to push herself up from the sofa, but her heavy, swollen belly made the movement difficult.
She winced slightly as her sensitive, milk-heavy breasts shifted under her dress.
She sat back down with a soft sigh. "Maki, come here, sweetie. Sit next to me."
Kagerō spoke up before Maki could even offer to help in the kitchen.
"Don't worry about the chores, Maki. Let your Master handle the fish."
"Your Aunt Karura has been glowing with so much maternal instinct lately that she's obsessed with little girls. She just wants to gossip."
Maki looked at Pakura for permission.
Pakura nodded, her smile soft. "Aunt Kagerō is right. Karura has a soft spot for little girls these days."
With her teacher's blessing, Maki happily scurried over and sat close to Karura, resting her head near the woman's giant stomach.
"Hehe, I really hope the little one in here is as cute as you, Maki," Karura whispered.
Maki hesitated for a second before looking up with curious eyes.
"Aunt Karura... why do you like girls so much?"
In the Sand Village, the traditional preference for boys was still deeply ingrained.
Men were seen as the primary warriors, the ones who would carry the village's strength forward.
It was rare for a mother to openly pray for a daughter as her firstborn.
Karura's smile widened, her eyes full of a secret, deviant warmth.
She reached out and stroked Maki's hair with a hand that was as soft as silk.
"Because of him... because Rasa likes girls. And whatever he craves, I want to give him."