Naruto Birdcage

Amegakure, Leader's Residence.

Having received treatment, Yahiko was now able to move, though his body was still wrapped in bandages.

Full recovery would take time.

The torture he endured in that dark chamber had been relentless.

Even thinking about it sent chills down his spine—he had never imagined he would survive.

When he was returned to Amegakure, Hakumen had told him that the three captors had been executed.

Whether that was true or not remained uncertain, but Yahiko knew very well who the true mastermind was.

The problem was strength.

Neither he, nor the entire Akatsuki, nor all of Amegakure could stand against Konoha.

Right now, all he could do was endure.

The official story was that he had been ambushed by bandits who sought to rob and kill him, but Konoha had arrived just in time to save him.

That was the only acceptable truth—it gave Amegakure a way to save face.

"Konoha is planning to publicly execute Jiraiya-sensei in six days."

Konan brought the news.

Yahiko sat in his chair, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling.

Jiraiya had turned himself in to Konoha for his sake—offering his own life in exchange for Yahiko's.

He spoke: "It's bait. Konoha wants to lure Namikaze Minato out, to make him walk into their trap."

Nagato frowned. "So… the execution is fake?"

"…No. The execution is real, but their ultimate target is Minato."

Nagato clenched his fists, then turned to Yahiko and asked, "Yahiko, what should we do?"

Yahiko simply tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm thinking… I'm thinking."

His voice was calm, but he couldn't help repeating himself.

Konan could see the turmoil deep within Yahiko's heart.

She turned to Nagato and said, "Don't rush. We need a thorough and well-thought-out plan."

Yahiko remained silent.

Though Konan was speaking to Nagato, her meaning was clear—they had to save Jiraiya-sensei.

But how? Yahiko didn't know.

He didn't want to turn against Konoha.

And even if they attempted a rescue, there was no guarantee they could succeed.

This was Konoha they were talking about.

Even setting aside the Hokage's strength, the Seven Crown Guards alone were not opponents ordinary Jonin could handle.

How could they possibly break through such tight security and rescue Jiraiya?

It felt like an unwinnable battle, no matter how they approached it.

And if they chose not to act…?

As Jiraiya's student—the very one whose life had just been spared at the cost of his teacher's—how could Yahiko even think of doing nothing?

Yet, at the same time, he was the leader of Amegakure. The leader of Akatsuki.

He carried the hopes and expectations of so many people.

Could he really gamble all of that?

Yahiko knew that if he abandoned Jiraiya, he would live the rest of his life in regret.

His thoughts were a tangled mess.

Frustrated, he told Nagato and Konan that he needed time to think.

After leaving the leader's residence, Nagato spoke.

"Konan…"

"Hmm?"

"I feel like… Yahiko doesn't seem all that eager to save Jiraiya-sensei."

Konan paused for a moment, then reassured him, "Don't overthink it. Yahiko is the village's leader—he has a lot more to consider. And he's just come out of a life-threatening situation… his mind must still be shaken."

..............

Konoha.

Tsunade's entire morning was spent doing nothing more than serving tea and water.

Makoto had been busy with official duties and had paid her no attention at all.

This left Tsunade feeling unsatisfied.

Her time was limited—if her entire week was spent just doing the same assistant duties as before, how was she supposed to make Makoto change his mind?

She wanted to have some intimate interaction with him, just like how he was with Samui.

In Tsunade's eyes, her only advantage was her body.

It was the only thing she could use to gain any leverage over Makoto.

While Makoto napped, she remained by his side.

She could have gone to another lounge to rest, as long as she returned before he woke up.

But how could she possibly rest now?

Her mind was constantly searching for a way to take things further.

The room was eerily quiet—so silent that she could hear Makoto's steady breathing, as well as the soft rustling of paper outside, where Samui was organizing documents.

Tsunade's gaze remained fixed on Makoto's face.

The young Hokage was undeniably handsome, though his expression was always cold and indifferent.

He had the kind of face that exuded emotional detachment.

But in sleep, his features softened.

Tsunade knew just how cold and unfeeling this face could be when awake.

A sudden thought struck her—there was a huge age gap between them.

She was already in her early forties, no longer young.

Meanwhile, this Hokage, despite being married and already a father, was still far too young.

It was only his commanding presence that made people overlook his age.

Unbidden, Tsunade found herself imagining what it would be like if the two of them were in bed together.

But she couldn't picture the details—just a hazy, indistinct image.

Even so, just the idea of it made her blush with embarrassment.

If that moment really came…

How was she supposed to face it?

Time slipped by unnoticed, passing in the blink of an eye.

On the bed, Makoto suddenly shifted slightly, as if waking up.

Tsunade, barefoot on the wooden floor, walked over to the bedside and knelt down beside him, softly calling out, "Lord Hokage."

Makoto opened his eyes—his gaze was as deep as the ocean, surrounding a dazzling white core, almost otherworldly in its brilliance.

"What time is it?"

"Three in the afternoon."

Makoto let out a long breath and turned onto his back, resting an arm over his forehead.

He lay there for a while, unmoving, before finally sitting up.

His gaze shifted, and he noticed Tsunade quietly kneeling beside the bed, as if waiting for him.

Seeing no reaction from him, Tsunade hesitated, then looked up at him.

"Lord Hokage?"

"..."

Makoto had no particular thoughts at the moment—he simply hadn't fully woken up yet.

His mind was still hazy, and he sat motionless on the bed, lost in thought.

The murmuring voices outside pulled Makoto back from his thoughts—it seemed that someone had come to deliver more documents.

There was still official business waiting for him to handle.

Makoto sat on the edge of the bed, letting his legs dangle down.

But then, Tsunade did something that took him by surprise.

She reached up and unfastened a button on her shirt, then slipped her hand into her chest area, fumbling for something.

A moment later, she pulled out a sock—it was the one he had worn today.

Finding it amusing, Makoto asked, "What are you doing?"

Lowering her head slightly, Tsunade replied, "It's cold, and the sock is chilly. I wanted to warm it up for you."

Makoto hadn't expected such an idea from her.

It seemed as though Tsunade had completely figured things out since yesterday—ever since he had stepped on her face.

She was using everything she had to get what she wanted—her dignity, her body, even her chastity.

To her, they were nothing more than bargaining chips.

Makoto pressed his hands against the edge of the bed and lifted her chin with his foot.

Tsunade thought it would be the same as yesterday.

She immediately lowered her upper body as much as possible while still kneeling, tilting her head back to provide support—allowing him to use her face as leverage while putting on his socks.

She had become very proactive.

And in that proactiveness, Makoto could see just how desperate she was.

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