His left arm steadily cradled Hii Ren, letting the child rest comfortably in the crook of his elbow. Ren's small hand clutched the fabric of his father's chest, while his other hand held a bottle, noisily drinking warm milk.
Hii Kōri's right hand gently supported the bottom of the bottle, ensuring the angle was correct so his son wouldn't choke.
In the kitchen area nearby, various pots, pans, and knives floated in the air, cooking on their own.
Tsunade rubbed her still-drowsy eyes. As her vision gradually focused, she realized it was Hii Kōri's Spirit Thread Nerves manipulating the kitchenware. Then she remembered that Hii Kōri didn't sleep, and the words to scold him for being completely inconsiderate of his son wouldn't come out.
She had a not-so-secret little habit not counting when she was instinctively on alert during wartime in relatively relaxed environments, for about fifteen minutes after waking up, she would be in a "semiconscious" state.
Her reactions were slower than usual, and her thinking was dull.
In a sense, this was also proof that she had completely accepted Hii Kōri on another level.
"Awake?"
Hearing the noise, Hii Kōri turned his head and gave her a calm smile. "Go wash up. Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes."
His tone, his expression, his movements... everything was as steady as an ordinary husband's, as if the bastard who had joined Akane in tormenting her until midnight last night was a different person.
Tsunade opened her mouth, about to say something, but saw that after greeting her, Hii Kōri had already lowered his head to play with Hii Ren again. The words died in her throat.
Although Hii Kōri had only been there for Ren's first month after birth, Ren showed no signs of stranger anxiety.
Whether when he woke up in the morning and saw Hii Kōri, or now being held in his arms, he was very close to him. At this moment, the little guy seemed to have spotted his mother, releasing the bottle nipple and flashing a dazzlingly bright smile.
Although Hii Kōri thought it was probably because he still carried the scent of Tsunade and Akane on him, it might be more romantic to regard it as a blood connection.
Life always needs a bit of romance.
Kōri lowered his head and gently touched his son's face with the tip of his nose. Ren immediately burst into giggles, waving his small hands and trying to grab his father's face.
The scene was so heartwarming that Tsunade's feelings of resentment and fatigue seemed to disappear.
'This is nice, too,' she thought.
With this thought, Tsunade groggily walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. In the mirror, she saw her messy golden hair and the lingering red marks on her neck and collarbone from last night.
She stared at the marks for a few seconds, then sighed and resignedly began to wash.
Forget it. Quarreling with that bastard over this would just be making trouble for myself.
A few minutes later, when Tsunade emerged from the bathroom drying her damp hair, she was already seventy to eighty percent awake. Her long hair, not tied into her signature twin-tails or high ponytail as usual, was casually gathered at the back with a hair tie. A few stray strands fell by her cheeks, making her look much softer than usual.
Hii Kōri was playing a childish game of "airplane" with Ren, making the little guy wildly wave his limbs and laugh joyfully.
Tsunade watched the father and son for a moment, then looked at the bustling kitchen, walked to the sofa, and sat down beside Hii Kōri, hugging her knees. A moment later, she tilted her body and leaned toward him, resting her head on his thigh.
Hii Kōri looked down, said nothing, simply placed Ren in the empty space in front of her, and then naturally ran his free hand through her hair, gently combing the still-damp golden strands.
Tsunade closed her eyes, nuzzled against his thigh to find the most comfortable position, and settled in.
Ren babbled beside her, playing with his toys, occasionally reaching out a small hand to try to grab his mother's fallen hair strands.
No one spoke.
As if, at this moment, all the world's conflicts, calculations, responsibilities, and past grievances were isolated outside this sun-drenched room. They were just ordinary parents, sharing a quiet morning with a child who had only recently arrived in this world.
"Mmm—"
After a while, Tsunade let out a vague nasal sound.
"What is it?" Hii Kōri pulled his thoughts back, gently tapping her forehead with his finger.
"...Hungry." Tsunade answered honestly.
Hii Kōri couldn't help but chuckled softly. He patted her shoulder. "Get up. We really did wear you out yesterday."
Breakfast was already laid out on the table. Beverages included soy milk, pumpkin porridge, and milk, accompanied by omelets and perfectly cooked sunny-side-up eggs, golden-brown crispy whole wheat toast, and vegetable salad to cleanse the palate.
Besides these, there were also hamburger patties, bacon, pork
chops, and other things that wouldn't normally appear at breakfast.
And all the portions were large.
But both Tsunade, whose primary combat method was taijutsu, and Hii Kōri, an even bigger energy consumer, needed more energy in the morning.
Hii Kōri had already sat down at the table, and Ren was settled in a baby seat, happily playing with his toys.
Tsunade tucked her stray hair behind her ears, picked up a slice of bread, and took a big bite.
This was an ordinary morning in the Hii household.
A week passed in preparations that could hardly be called busy.
Since the various production lines needed for the Defense Section had not yet been completed, and most of the subsidiary smaller departments would be established according to subsequent development plans, the handover work between Akane and Sasori mostly consisted of personnel transfers and document reorganization.
Although she had heard from Hii Kōri about Sasori's abilities, the composure the child displayed still drew silent praise from Akane.
Come to think of it, while Hii Kōri did have a habit of nepotism, he placed even more emphasis on ability.
After this, the group prepared to depart.
There was no specific meeting place. Hii Kōri simply stuffed everyone into Rashōmon one by one.
After all, with Ren along, he couldn't very well make the baby endure a bumpy desert ride in Hii Kōri's off-road vehicle.
But departing from the guild even earlier than them was the intelligence sent from within the guild to various organizations.
As the guild grew larger and larger, it was only natural that spies from various places would blend into the ranks. Hii Kōri was well aware of this and simply strengthened internal censorship mechanisms.
Such things were unavoidable.
The guild had expanded too quickly; there was never enough personnel. Even with strict censorship mechanisms, it was inevitable that spies from various factions would infiltrate the lower and middle ranks.
Hii Kōri was naturally aware of this, and his chosen solution was to leave them alone.
Such things were unavoidable. As long as he strengthened review at the core level to prevent infiltration of the upper echelons, and occasionally leaked some not-so-critical—or even misleading—information at appropriate times.
Sometimes, appropriate information leaks were themselves a strategy.
For example, this time—although these spies generally couldn't reach high positions and had difficulty accessing high-level intelligence, something like the establishment of the Ninth Department was still easy to overhear.
"The Ninth Department, the Defense Section... huh..."
The diminutive Third Potato... ah, no, the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki, held a newly arrived letter from his intelligence division in his hand, clicking his tongue with interest.
"An eleven-year-old acting department director... the Red Hot Sand certainly isn't afraid to take risks." Ōnoki muttered to himself, then shook his head, denying his own statement. "No, the key isn't the age. The key is this department's function—"
The world was never lacking in examples of young people in high positions. Though there were certainly nepotistic figureheads, cases of individuals with sufficient ability were also common.
He set down the scroll and pinched his garlic-bulb nose.
"Consolidating security forces from all regions into an independent department... who would believe the 'Defense Section' is only for defense..."
The Land of Earth had a large population. Due to the continuous mountain ranges along its borders, external transportation was very inconvenient. One thing better than the Land of Wind was that the land was more fertile, allowing for a greater variety of producible goods.
But even so, the Land of Earth couldn't avoid external procurement—in fact, aside from the Lands of Lightning, Fire, and Water, almost no country could completely achieve self-sufficiency and self-circulation.
As a veteran ninja who had experienced two Shinobi World Wars and had led Iwagakure for decades, his sense for "power" and "intent" was extremely sharp.
Currently, over sixty percent of external procurement across various countries was dominated by the Red Hot Sand.
Providing jobs, improving livelihoods, introducing technology—the Red Hot Sand's tentacles had long spread across the entire ninja world. Countless civilians, even lower-ranking ninjas, depended on this guild to make a living.
Ōnoki was naturally well aware of the Red Hot Sand's productive capacity.
Previously, the guild's military force relied more on employing local ninjas and missing-nin, as well as cooperative relationships with some hidden villages. But with the establishment of the "Defense Section," Ōnoki didn't believe they would focus solely on self-protection.
It marked the guild beginning to "internalize" military force.
If allowed to develop unchecked, what would the future look like? Would the influence of hidden villages be gradually eroded by the guild? Would the traditional mission commission system be overturned? What impact would the loss of ninjas, drawn away by the guild's higher pay and better treatment, have on each village?
Once this department was truly established and operational, the Red Hot Sand would become a behemoth integrating economic, technological, intelligence, and military power. At that point, it would no longer be a mere "guild," but a force capable of influencing—even subverting—the existing pattern of the ninja world.
No, in fact, it already was.
"Tch... pulling a move like this at a time like this..."
Ōnoki tapped the desk irritably, a pained expression on his face.
The Red Hot Sand had risen on the heels of the Second Shinobi World War. Now, less than three years after that war, no country had the energy to stir things up again.
Konoha had lost a huge amount of money and several thousand ninjas. The former could be dealt with—if necessary, they could pressure the daimyō—but the latter, the loss of personnel, was an extremely heavy blow for a hidden village.
No matter how powerful jōnin were, they couldn't handle everything. Whether executing various missions or on the battlefield, the backbone was still the most numerous chūnin.
As for Kirigakure, although they had teamed up with Uzushiogakure, those damp, gloomy folk still didn't like operating on the continent. According to escaped former Kirigakure ninjas, that place had become the "Bloody Mist," obsessed with internal strife.
Sunagakure... he hadn't realized it before, but looking back, their provocation of the ninja war seemed entirely aimed at diverting attention from their domestic land improvement projects, while consuming excess population they couldn't support.
They had profited immensely, but probably had no interest in stirring things up now either.
These three had no desire to act, but given Ōnoki's personality, he wouldn't be the one to stick his neck out first, let alone go after the "golden goose" of the nations.
If they insisted the "Defense Section" was just for increased security, what could anyone say?
Sabotaging secretly was a different matter—in fact, the five great villages had been doing that all along, then letting other villages take the blame, using it to improve performance and gather intelligence.
"...But isn't there one village that came out unscathed..."
Thinking this, Ōnoki's expression gradually turned sinister.
Kumogakure.
Although they had lost a Second Raikage, a bunch of elite jōnin, and the Gold and Silver Brothers, they had also been absent from the Second War. Moreover, Kumogakure and the Land of Lightning's daimyō had the closest relationship among the five great villages and nations—arguably the hidden village that had best maintained its strength.
On the other hand, the fact that Kumogakure was a bunch of bandits was not unfounded—it was common knowledge. Those guys caused trouble without thinking about the consequences.
Most importantly, Iwagakure and Kumogakure were sworn enemies.
"I need to find a way to let those Cloud bastards test the waters first..."