Naruto, Madara is my girl.

Danzo froze-her mouth slightly ajar, fingers stiff by her side.

"Pig, girl?"

Her brows pulled together as she tried to make sense of it. She understood each word individually, but together? It felt like some kind of code. Or insult. Given who she was talking to, probably both.

Akira's grin stretched wider. "Isn't it simple?" he said. "To put it plainly... it means 'pig farming pioneer.' And since you're a girl..." He dragged out the end with clear amusement. "You're 'Pig Girl.'"

Danzo exhaled sharply through her nose. "Great. Thanks for-acknowledging my gender, at least," she said flatly, lips barely moving as sarcasm slipped through.

She glanced away, trying to see the connection. Hokage and pigs? It didn't compute. She wasn't just some random villager, she was Shimura Danzo. She had pored over every historical record of Konoha's formation and infrastructure. She knew what running this village entailed at the deepest level. And in that depth, pig farming had come up-once or twice-but as footnotes to logistical challenges, not cornerstone strategies for leadership.

Filthy. Disease-ridden. Resource-heavy and inefficient for most clans below merchant status. The drawbacks were obvious.

And the benefits?

Nothing meaningful came to mind.

Akira watched her struggle and pressed on anyway.

"As the saying goes," he began smoothly, "if you want to be rich, build roads first. If you want to be richer, raise pigs."

Danzo turned back toward him with narrowed eyes.

Akira didn't give her the chance to protest. "Raising pigs is about food security. It's about optics," he said. "Picture it: each pig weighs close to 500 kilograms. You publish your breeding methods. People start following them because pigs become affordable across the Land of Fire."

He stepped closer and lowered his tone just slightly. "They start eating meat regularly," he said. "And every time they do... they remember you."

Danzo stiffened.

"One day, someone calls out your name in admiration," Akira continued, arms folded now. "They say, 'Shimura Danzo brings us pork and prosperity.' The crowd echoes it. You suggest- casually-maybe you'd make improvements easier if you had the Hokage authority..."

His smile held no warmth now. "Do you think they'd object?"

Danzo opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"Exactly."

She shut it again, stunned by the simplicity-and insanity-of the logic. Her dream had always been distant and layered with political complexity. Akira had taken that and cut it open with pig fat and peasant approval.

And somehow... it made sense.

"The God of War is indeed terrifying," she whispered under her breath.

Akira's gaze flicked up and down her body in the next breath.

Her spine bristled instantly.

"Um... Lord Akira? What are you doing?"

"Assessing eligibility," he replied without hesitation. "You'll have to change your image if you want this plan to work."

Danzo crossed her arms tight against her chest. "Fine. How?"

"Start smiling," Akira said first, then added with forced enthusiasm, "Your body type won't help either. Slim doesn't inspire food-based trust."

"Which body type does?"

"Akimichi."

Danzo paled instantly.

"Try their clan's diet," Akira offered sweetly. "Two and a half years should be enough."

Danzo's internal screaming was instant and overwhelming.

Go eat for two and half years? Become one of them?

No chance in hell.

Her clan excelled in stealth and speed-neither of which worked if she turned into a literal tank of fat and patience like the Akimichi elders. She wouldn't last weeks in the field if she did that-and survival was already dicey as it stood now.

And smiling?

Danzo had long since forgotten how that muscle group functioned voluntarily.

She stared at Akira through slitted eyes, torn between grudging admiration and outright disgust at being manipulated this thoroughly.

Finally, she inhaled deeply and forced herself to sound calm again.

"Lord Akira... thank you for the two suggestions," she said through clenched teeth. "Now I'd like to hear the third option."

"Oh?" Akira leaned back slightly, dramatically thoughtful. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Danzo said without hesitation this time. Her fists trembled faintly at her sides.

"It's complicated," Akira said with mock reluctance. "Takes time... sacrifice..."

Danzo bowed low this time without complaint. "Please explain it clearly."

Akira watched her for just long enough before sighing softly.

"In that case," he said smoothly, "Danzo, do you want to become the dark side of Konoha?"

His tone shifted from playful to weighty in moments-and it caught Danzo cold in her gut.

"The Darkness... of Konoha...?"

He nodded once. "Yes. Since Monkey is Hokage-the figurehead-you'll be the Queen of Darkness in his shadow," he said slowly, meaning every word now even as his tone stayed dry around the edges. "You'll cover what he cannot touch... clean what he defiles... protect what he exposes."

Danzo lifted her head again, posture stiffening unconsciously at the weight of it.

"Shadow Queen…?"

"Precisely," Akira confirmed easily. "Control operations that must stay off record, use tools others fear to touch."

He grinned again, but it wasn't kind now.

"And since you're on Monkey's dark side, you'll have to discipline him sometimes," he added smoothly. "With whips. Candles. Gloves. High heels…"

Danzo's eyebrows shot up violently.

"Wait-what?"

"You'll reward him when appropriate too," Akira continued without missing a single fucking step, "Like with 'ice x fire' sessions-or poison x dragon roleplay-"

"Stop-stop-STOP!" Danzo shouted suddenly and backed away from him two full steps, face flushing with disbelief and horror in quick succession.

"This is your third method?!"

Akira raised both hands innocently-and shrugged one shoulder with casual ease.

"Is it not doable?"

"If I say no about the... BDSM thing..." he added, sounding disturbingly sincere, "...we could try another theme."

Danzo bit down hard on her molars and stared at him for several long seconds before breathing again properly.

She had no idea if he'd just insulted her three layers deep or stumbled into genius by accident-but she was absolutely regretting asking him anything now.

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