Kaji was listening to the Jonins' ramblings at today's general meeting. They were discussing the state of missions—whether there had been many losses or strange nuances during execution.
Lost in his own world, Kaji was thinking about a name for his nutritional clinic. "Fitness? Hmm… Body Engineer…" He sighed. "Nothing good is coming to mind."
Meanwhile, the Uchiha were arguing about how they should be recognized and placed on the front lines.
But since this was a Jonin meeting, all the high-level Jonin were present—not just Fugaku. This wasn't a clan leaders' gathering.
Watching the debate unfold, Hiruzen noticed Kaji's silence and decided to throw him a conversational lifeline.
"Ah, Kaji-kun, what do you think of the Uchiha's proposal?"
Kaji muttered, "It's ugly. It should be better. After all, it needs to be a place to relax—where people feel at home. But how will they be treated? A consent agreement would be good..."
Realizing everyone was staring at him, Kaji smiled sheepishly. "Ahahaha… I was just rambling about something personal."
He then turned his attention to the matter at hand. "The Uchiha, huh? Sure, it's a given that you're a warrior people and all that. Fighting is fine, but you're behind the times—the war for Konoha ended long ago. I wonder where the Uchiha's military faction was during that time. I guarantee the Hokage would've been more than willing to send you to the front back then. I remember in the second year of the war, the Hyuga and Senju quickly mobilized elite shinobi to ensure operational effectiveness."
One Uchiha sputtered, "You! Who do you think you're talking to? How dare you—"
Kaji looked at the man, amused. Everyone else did too—even Fugaku seemed entertained.
The Uchiha grew self-conscious, wondering if he'd said something wrong. The man beside him elbowed him sharply and whispered, "That's the Monarch of Shadows."
"G-Gulp."
"Ah… Uh, my apologies! I was just thinking out loud. Pay me no mind—pretend I'm some lost clown."
Seizing the opportunity, Fugaku spoke up. "Lord Kaji is correct. At the time, a high-level meeting was held, and the majority decision was to 'wait for the right moment.' As the newly appointed clan head, I apologize for my clansmen's foolish impertinence."
Hiruzen grinned from ear to ear. "No need to worry, Fugaku-san. The Police Force has always served Konoha faithfully, ensuring our security. A few disgruntled voices at most… Sometimes Kaji-san can be harsh with his words—after all, alongside my disciples, he has personally slain over 5,000 Jonin."
The room filled with sharp inhales and held breaths. The implications were clear: Kaji's opinion carried weight, and if he said it, it was true. "You're free to seek justice, but the village will turn a blind eye to the outcome." And, of course: "Ah, yes—Kaji is my disciple and son. You all remember that, right?"
Though most Jonin present knew of Kaji, reality was cruel to those trapped in their own complexes. The village didn't publicize a ninja's true danger level, their identity, or their global renown—after all, it was best to avoid frightening the common villagers and letting emotions run wild.
Fugaku had long since dismantled the Uchiha's radical faction. Nowadays, very few remained—most were engaged in teaching at the dojos, where their Sharingan saw near-daily use, and they did what they loved: combat.
So he didn't pay much mind to the bluster of a few Uchiha.
Hiruzen spoke next. "The next topic is the Land of Earth's Daimyo's mission request."
Immediately, voices rose—some in favor, others neutral, and many against.
Kaji cut in, "While it would boost revenue, I'm not willing to go to the Land of Earth just to rescue teams ambushed by that shriveled old dwarf."
"It's no place for young shinobi. Frankly, my advice? Unless you're an elite Jonin, forget it."
Hiruzen nodded. "The situation is this: the Daimyo's decision ignores Ōnoki's intentions. After repeated defeats and no results, they're turning on each other. But Iwa, like Konoha, doesn't depend on the Daimyo for survival."
A vote was quickly held—and the decision was clear: Konoha would refuse the Land of Earth's request.
Kaji left once the meeting shifted to economic matters—he had tea plans with his mother, Biwako. After all, he was a devoted son.
A pot of green tea with mint and honey, paired with fat-free biscuits. Over the years, Biwako hadn't faded; if anything, her beauty had only deepened, her figure enough to make any man's jaw drop.
But to the young man she'd once bathed and carried around naked as a child, such things meant nothing.
They chatted about Asuma and Biwako's current interests. When she heard of her son's plans for a clinic, her eyes lit up. It would give her something to do beyond daytime training and household management—not that she couldn't delegate chores to the staff. Then came the delicate topic: touching female patients. Kaji would need to take measurements, and given his unfairly handsome face, misunderstandings were inevitable. (She'd lost count of the marriage proposals she'd intercepted in his youth.)
"Kaji-chan," she mused, "how about I work with you? My knowledge of nutrition and the body isn't any less than yours after all these years. And I could handle the… sensitive parts with the girls. What do you think?"
Kaji froze. He hadn't expected his mother to volunteer. "Of course, Mom—as long as it doesn't tire you out. You know I'm a ninja who never sits still, always tinkering with something new, hehe."
Biwako grabbed his cheeks and pinched.
Kaji pouted.
They laughed.
Soon, Asuma burst in from school, already launching into tales of his very eventful day.
"Big Bro!" Asuma said excitedly, "We're in final exams now, so the teacher called off the secret war games. What I wanted to ask is—how's my chakra? When can I learn some ninjutsu?"
Kaji smiled. "Your chakra's fine. Once your vacation starts, we'll see about ninjutsu. How's the chakra shield exercise I told you to train?"
Without hesitation, Asuma activated the technique. Every ten seconds, his body pulsed like a heartbeat, his skin briefly glowing with a translucent pattern.
Kaji nodded in approval—then suddenly slashed Asuma's arm with a kunai.
The blade failed to even scratch him at first. Applying more pressure, Kaji pushed harder, but the skin still resisted puncture.
"Good, Asuma-chan," Kaji said, ruffling his hair. "You've learned well. Keep training until even a full-force kunai can't pierce you."
Asuma grinned and nodded eagerly.