Natsuhiko did have a certain curiosity about the internal affairs of the Senju clan—but in truth, he did not care all that much.
In the past, when his rank within the ANBU had been low and scrutiny constant, Senju Shoma had deliberately kept many things from him. It was a precaution, a way to avoid unnecessary attention that might arise from an ANBU operative knowing too much.
As a result, Natsuhiko had remained largely ignorant of the clan's inner workings. Back then, he had wanted to understand—to piece together the dynamics that shaped the family he belonged to.
But now…
Now that he possessed both power and status, that curiosity had faded.
Because he understood something far more important.
The clan would inevitably seek to make use of him.
Or, to put it more plainly—they would begin sending people to him. Useful people. Necessary pieces placed directly into his hands.
If that was the case, why should he waste effort untangling the clan's internal disputes?
He respected Senju Shoma, and he was willing to lend the Senju a hand.
But respect did not mean submission.
Anyone who thought they could control him… would be mistaken.
Even Shoma no longer dared to try.
And if others reached out with the same intent, Natsuhiko would not hesitate to cut them off.
That said, he had no intention of acting recklessly. Actions like these, if mishandled, could fracture the so-called unity of the clan—and worse, damage his own standing.
He had reached a point where he needed to guard his reputation carefully.
The last thing he wanted was to seize control of the clan only to find himself constantly purging it—killing here, silencing there—until nothing remained.
The Senju were already few in number.
Push too far, and they might truly be driven into extinction.
And beyond that, excessive bloodshed always came with consequences. As an ANBU, Natsuhiko understood that better than most. Violence was a tool—necessary at times, but never something to rely on as a default solution.
As for Senju Renge's answer…
He simply watched her in silence. He had already said enough.
There was no need to press further.
Gradually, the color returned to her face, though her expression remained far from composed. She clenched her teeth, meeting his gaze at last before slowly shaking her head.
"…I'm sorry. I can't make that choice."
"Is that so?"
Natsuhiko let out a quiet sigh, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"I thought you were someone who understood reason. It seems I was mistaken."
"From where you stand, Natsuhiko-sama," she replied after drawing a steady breath, her expression settling back into its usual cold clarity—if anything, even sharper than before, "it's only natural that you cannot see how people like us survive."
There was a pause.
"I've heard that you were raised by Elder Shoma since childhood," she continued, her voice calm but edged with something deeper. "May I ask… what does he mean to you?"
Natsuhiko's brow lifted slightly.
In that instant, he understood what she was implying.
Was she like him—someone raised under the care of a particular elder? Or perhaps her family was still in someone else's hands, bound by circumstances she could not escape?
If it was the former, then there was little left to consider.
He had already made his stance clear, and he would not hesitate to follow through. After all, keeping one's word was, in its own way, a form of ninja creed.
And a decisive act here would serve as a warning—one that others would not easily forget.
But if it was the latter…
Then things became more complicated.
And perhaps, more interesting.
That situation was easier to resolve in one sense, yet carried its own inconveniences. Calling in a favor from Senju Shoma might settle it quickly—but favors were debts, and debts were things Natsuhiko had never liked to owe.
If the balance of benefit was right, then even something as troublesome as a favor could be considered a fair exchange.
Earlier, in that fleeting moment when her defenses had cracked, Natsuhiko had seen two things in her eyes—reluctance, and something that resembled relief.
Reluctance, perhaps, at dying in such a manner. Or perhaps it stemmed from unfinished wishes, ambitions left unrealized—dreams cut short before they had ever been fulfilled.
And that hint of relief…
It spoke of dissatisfaction. With her circumstances. With the role forced upon her. Perhaps even with the fact that her own family had become leverage in someone else's hands.
Emotions like those were not meaningless.
If this woman possessed sufficient talent—if she was worth the investment—then Natsuhiko would not mind lending her a hand.
Killing was something he bore no burden over.
But turning his hand against his own… that required a moment's pause.
So he decided to test her first.
"Tell me your situation," he said, his gaze steady as it rested on her. His voice softened, almost gentle. "And don't lie. You understand, don't you? With my position, anything I want to know—I can find out eventually."
"My mother."
Senju Renge lifted her head, her tone flat and unadorned.
"My father died before I was even born. I was raised by my mother alone. Senju Ryōta-sama was responsible for overseeing and protecting the members of our branch… and from a young age, I was already assigned to be paired with 'Senju Natsuhiko.'"
She paused briefly.
"I didn't know who you were. But I understood that this was my fate."
Her voice remained steady, though the weight behind it was unmistakable.
"The arrangement kept being delayed. It wasn't until this year that I was allowed to come here—to clean, to serve, to gradually build familiarity."
"I don't know what you do, or why things were arranged this way."
"But recently… something changed."
Her fingers tightened slightly.
"My mother was taken under Ryōta-sama control. And the order he gave me was clear—no matter what, I had to ensure that Natsuhiko-sama—"
Natsuhiko raised a hand slightly, cutting her off with a faint nod.
That was enough.
He understood.
The timing aligned perfectly—his recent promotion to ANBU division commander had clearly spread through the clan faster than expected. It seemed his status was no longer a secret within the Senju.
And with that rise in position had come new ambitions from others.
People like this "Senju Ryōta."
The name meant nothing to him personally, but from her account, it was easy enough to infer—someone with authority over a regional branch of the clan. Not at Shoma's level, perhaps, but still a figure with real power.
"…Should I make an example of him?"
Natsuhiko stroked his chin thoughtfully.
A moment later, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
No—direct action would be excessive.
But a lesson?
That was another matter entirely.
After all, if he wanted the clan to understand one thing, it was this—
He was not someone to be manipulated.
And this… was a perfect opportunity.
As that thought settled into place, the way he looked at Renge changed ever so slightly.
His expression remained warm, like sunlight—but where before that warmth had been laced with cold indifference, now there was a trace of genuine heat behind it.
"I understand your situation now," he said with a small smile. "And I also know what I need to do."
"To kill me, and establish your authority?"
The question caught him slightly off guard.
Renge looked up at him, her voice quiet but unwavering.
"For someone like you, Natsuhiko-sama… I don't think you would tolerate such intentions from others."
"Oh?"
He raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his gaze.
"And what makes you think that?"
"…Because I saw it."
Her eyes met his directly now.
"For a moment earlier… you truly intended to kill me."
Senju Renge's voice remained cool, detached, as if the matters she spoke of had nothing to do with her personally.
"Indeed," she said softly, "although I only recently learned of it, I already know that you are part of the ANBU, and not just any member—but an important one. Someone who has reached your level would hardly allow themselves to be controlled by others, as Elder Shoma also warned me.
If I'm not mistaken, you and Elder Shoma must have had a fair amount of contact—perhaps even conflict. So now, with someone like me in the picture, if there's no need for retaliation against those behind me, then killing me would be the clearest warning.
After all, I am just a small player. If my death can serve as a lesson, then nothing could be better. Am I correct, Natsuhiko-sama?"
Natsuhiko regarded her quietly, and a trace of amusement flickered across his expression. This woman's mind… it really did work quickly.
With only scattered fragments of information, she had pieced together his intentions and deduced his motives. That alone was impressive.
Yet, her attitude remained a thorny problem. He shook his head slightly—her coldness was intoxicating, certainly, and stirred a desire to conquer, yet too much of it was… uncomfortable.
The reluctance he had glimpsed in her eyes earlier, he realized, must have encompassed more than resentment at her fate, more than unwillingness to die like this—it was also frustration that her talents had yet to be fully realized.
Clap, clap, clap.
Natsuhiko lightly applauded, looking at her with a grin.
"Excellent analysis. Truly excellent. You've already anticipated everything I was thinking."
"Should I thank you for your praise… or beg for mercy?" Senju Renge met his gaze, a small, ironic smile forming on her lips. "Perhaps… this is my fate."
"Actually," Natsuhiko replied, his voice amused, "aren't you already begging, in a way?"
He watched her intently, shaking his head with mild exasperation.
"Of course, this is just my own interpretation. What you're doing now is displaying your intelligence, your cleverness. You're using your ability to prove your value to me, to show that you are worth helping. Perhaps, then, I might decide to assist you. Of course, that's just my perspective—if I'm wrong, you'll forgive me."
"Perhaps," she replied softly, shaking her head. "But there is one thing I wish to tell you, Natsuhiko-sama… human hearts are not so dark. Perhaps my understanding of the world is still insufficient."
"Is that so?" Natsuhiko shook his head casually, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Then I suppose I must apologize. But you are correct—your understanding of the world is not yet complete. And whether or not it is, frankly, I do not mind."
He let the topic drop there. There was no need to push further. For now, he had no intention of harming her; at least, not at this moment.
Rising from the sofa, Natsuhiko settled back into a more relaxed posture, and Renge silently began tidying up the shattered pieces of the tea set scattered across the floor.
She did not yet know his final intentions, but she understood her duty and the role her position demanded. That was something she would not forget.
"These can wait to be cleaned later," Natsuhiko said, patting the sofa once more. "Come, sit down."
Senju Renge stiffened slightly, a flicker of hesitation and worry crossing her features, yet after a brief pause, she rose and walked over, settling slowly beside Natsuhiko.
"Good," Natsuhiko said with a light chuckle. "You're starting to get into the right mindset, though your performance still leaves something to be desired. I'll ask you a question: if you give me a satisfactory answer, I'll return the favor in kind."
"Yes, Natsuhiko-sama," Renge replied, lowering her gaze, her voice steadying as she spoke.
"There is something I hesitate over. If I involve myself, I can reap immediate benefits."
Natsuhiko leaned back into the sofa, his voice calm but drawn out, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as if arranging his words before speaking.
"But for the future, for my ultimate goals, it may not be wise. It may even require more time to accomplish what I truly seek. If I refrain from acting, the future may remain within my control, and I might gain more over the coming years.
Yet I would lose much in the process, perhaps even jeopardize my goals entirely. I could lose everything. So tell me, what should I do? How should I take control of this?"
He finished speaking, maintaining a gentle, patient smile as he regarded her. Renge fell silent, contemplating his words. She understood that this moment could determine the course of her own fate. After careful reflection, she lifted her head slowly.
"This is a difficult choice," she said, her voice cool and composed once more.
"But if you, Natsuhiko-sama, have the strength and the means to control how far this matter progresses, then engaging allows you to secure immediate benefits while managing the scale of involvement, ensuring future gains and the realization of your goals.
If not, then avoidance is your only option. Though you may lose much, it seems you already know what will be lost. Prepare in advance to minimize damage.
If you truly lack the strength and means, then participating may still be preferable. After all, taking longer to achieve your goal is better than never achieving it at all."
Natsuhiko listened, intrigued, before asking his second question. "Very well, assuming I have the strength and the means, and I choose to intervene, to what extent should I act?"
"Balance," Renge replied firmly, her voice unwavering. "Strike a middle path between involvement and non-involvement. Secure the present benefits, safeguard future gains, and ultimately achieve your objective."
Natsuhiko smiled, pleased. In his heart, he already had an answer, and Renge's words only reinforced his resolve. The situation was complex, but with the power and the means now at his disposal, why shouldn't he try?
"It seems," he said, his gaze fixed on her, "you've given me the answer I was seeking. From now on, there's no need to call me 'Natsuhiko-sama.' Just call me Natsuhiko. Consider it either a command or a request—your choice."
"Yes, Natsuhiko-kun," Renge said, her hesitation lighter this time, though her eyes still carried a trace of other emotions.
"This room is large," he continued, standing and stretching slowly. "You might as well tidy up one more. In a few days, someone else will come to keep you company."