Chapter 277: The Weight of Leadership
Shisui woke up to the soft glow of morning filtering through the luxurious curtains of her and Malik's big, empty bed. The sheets on his side were still cool, untouched—he hadn't returned.
Again.
She hated waking up alone.
Not because she was fragile, not because she couldn't handle it, but because she and Malik had promised each other—promised—that they would never let work steal them completely. But life had a way of getting in the way of even the best intentions.
She took a slow breath, pushing herself up in bed, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders.
"Think about the good parts," she murmured to herself. "Not the fact that we both spend too much damn time buried in work."
It didn't make her feel better.
Still, she had things to do.
Dwelling on her marriage wasn't the best way to start an exhausting day, so she shoved those thoughts aside and focused on getting ready. As The Leader of The Root, her duties came at odd hours and demanded far more time than she would like. The organization required precision, oversight, and, most importantly, a leader that was willing to carry the burden of making decisions most wouldn't dare to make.
Shisui sat on the edge of the bed, rolling her shoulders as she reached for her gear. Black tactical armor, reinforced for stealth and swift movement—practical, durable, efficient.
Except…
She frowned as she struggled to fasten the chest plate correctly.
Her large bosom had gotten bigger—again.
"Damn. Not again," she muttered under her breath, adjusting the straps with mild irritation.
One of the attendants hovering nearby heard her and cleared their throat awkwardly before quickly looking away, pretending they hadn't.
Shisui sighed dramatically. Of course, someone overheard her complaining about that.
It took a few more minutes of adjusting, tightening, and rearranging before she finally got the armor to sit correctly. She wasn't happy about it, but at least she was ready for the day. Despite her high rank, Shisui had never been the type to ignore the people who kept things running.
Malik's magic mansion was filled with a large staff, all trained to manage various aspects of the estate—some magical, some physical, and some purely logistical. They rushed to assist her as she left, offering to adjust her armor, bring her last-minute reports, and double-check her supplies.
"I'm fine," she assured them, though she appreciated their diligence.
Still, she thanked them anyway, because she respected hard work.
With everything finally in order, she stepped out into the morning air, the crisp scent of early autumn sharpening her focus as she made her way toward The Root's hidden base.
Shisui didn't take the obvious paths out of the Hidden Leaf. No, her destination required something less traditional—a strange entrance buried beyond the walls, hidden beneath a twisting network of stone corridors and old structures that had been repurposed for secrecy and efficiency.
She descended the steps carefully, moving with practiced grace.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, she was greeted by the watchful eyes of Root operatives.
Root did not bow the way traditional ANBU operatives did.
No, their greeting was subtle, respectful but sharp—each operative stiffening slightly as Shisui passed, their posture straightening, their presence unwavering.
Shisui did not need grand gestures. She needed efficiency. Precision. Results.
The moment she entered the primary command chamber, she was greeted with a series of mission reports—paperwork, verbal briefings, and even live updates from the field.
A scout team had successfully infiltrated an underground smuggling ring, retrieving classified documents detailing illegal chakra experimentation. A stealth team had eliminated a rogue faction attempting to sell Leaf secrets to the Land of Secrets.
Then there was Ongoing Operations:
Surveillance of potential threats in border villages. Maintenance of internal security networks, ensuring Root bases remained undetected.
Then Unexpected Complications:
A splinter group had gone missing—either captured or killed. Investigation pending. A sudden shift in Akatsuki movements had disrupted planned operations.
Shisui listened to every report carefully, her mind absorbing information with relentless focus. The morning moved quickly—a relentless whirlwind of decisions, strategic adjustments, and fine-tuning operations to ensure the safety of the Leaf.
Shisui rarely allowed herself to pause during moments like this, but once the first round of briefings ended, she leaned back slightly, exhaling as she considered everything.
Being Leader of The Root was more than just managing missions and operatives.
It was responsibility.
It was making choices no one else wanted to make.
It was doing what had to be done for the sake of the Leaf—even when it felt suffocating, even when the sacrifices weighed heavier than they should.
She loved her village.
That was why she did it.
That was why she kept going.
Because if not her, then who?
Shisui straightened, shaking off the exhaustion trying to settle into her limbs.
There was still so much left to do, and there was no time to waste.
She stood, adjusting her armor one last time before preparing for the next stage of her day.
Despite the weight she carried, she did not falter.
Because she never would.
= a few hours later =
Shisui sat at her desk, her sharp smooth black eyes scanning the latest Root mission reports with precision. The neatly organized pages covered everything from border intelligence updates to rogue operative monitoring, and each detail carried a heavy weight.
She had barely reached the halfway point of her morning tasks when a Root ninja appeared at her doorway, hesitating at the threshold.
Shisui immediately noticed the pause.
There were very few reasons why a trained Root operative—someone conditioned for complete control and efficiency—would hesitate before delivering information.
And there was only one person in Konoha who consistently caused that hesitation.
Shisui exhaled sharply, setting the papers down and fixing the ninja with an unimpressed stare.
"Danzō Shimura," she said flatly.
The operative nodded once, confirming what she already knew.
Shisui resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose as the Root ninja delivered the full message: Danzō had information—classified records that Root had needed for months. Documents that she had deliberately held onto, refusing to hand them over after the Lady Fifth had placed her under house arrest.
But now, conveniently, Danzō was willing to share.
Over a cup of tea.
Shisui's annoyance spiked instantly.
"Of course she would drag this out," Shisui muttered under her breath, already rising to her feet, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Danzō lived in the Shimura Clan compound, located deep in the woods just beyond the Hidden Leaf's walls.
The estate itself was old but well-kept, its architecture speaking to a time when the Shimura name had carried more weight in Konoha's political sphere. Now, only Danzō remained—her and her unborn child, the last of her bloodline.
Shisui moved swiftly through the morning-lit forest, her steps measured, her breath steady. The scent of damp earth and autumn leaves lingered in the air as she navigated the winding path toward the compound.
Despite being a prisoner of circumstance, Danzō had kept a loyal staff—all women, all former Root operatives who had chosen to remain by her side despite her exile.
Shisui had never fully understood their loyalty, but she didn't need to—she simply needed to get what she came for and leave.
When she arrived, the guards acknowledged her immediately, their expressions carefully neutral as they let her through without hesitation.
The interior of the estate was quiet, its halls meticulously maintained yet eerily still.
Shisui was led straight to Danzō's office—the only room in the compound where Danzō held court, where she continued manipulating the world even in isolation.
Danzō was already seated, her long black hair neatly tied back, her pregnant form draped in luxurious but practical robes.
Despite her age, she looked remarkably youthful—a direct result of Malik's magic, though she retained a mature, dignified presence, never fully embracing the unnatural vitality Malik had gifted her.
She looked up as Shisui entered, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Ah, Shisui, how lovely of you to come so quickly."
Shisui did not sit. She did not entertain pleasantries.
"You have the information," she said bluntly, cutting straight to the point.
Danzō chuckled softly, tilting her head.
"You're so impatient," she remarked, reaching for the teapot on her desk and pouring herself a cup with deliberate grace.
"And you're so manipulative," Shisui replied smoothly, her arms crossing over her chest.
Danzō took a slow sip of tea, her black eyes gleaming faintly with amusement.
"Compliments already?" she mused, setting her cup down lightly.
Shisui's expression did not change.
"This could have been sent through a sealed message. You could have handed it over weeks ago."
Danzō sighed theatrically, placing a hand over her stomach as if exhausted by the conversation.
"Shisui, Shisui," she murmured. "I must remind you that carrying Malik's child is no simple thing. It takes energy, effort—"
"Spare me the dramatics," Shisui interrupted coldly.
Danzō smirked, but finally reached for the classified documents, sliding them across the desk.
Shisui snatched them up immediately, barely glancing at her as she scanned the contents.
It was exactly what she had come for—critical intelligence Danzō had deliberately withheld, forcing Shisui to come in person.
"Satisfied?" Danzō asked, arching a brow.
Shisui gave her a long look, her fingers tightening slightly over the pages.
"You think this makes you clever," she said, her tone carrying a hint of warning.
Danzō smiled, but it was not friendly.
"I don't think I'm clever, dear," she replied smoothly. "I know I am."
Shisui exhaled sharply, tucking the documents under her arm.
"I'm leaving."
Danzō laughed quietly, watching as Shisui turned toward the door.
"Do send my regards to Malik," Danzō called lightly.
Shisui paused briefly, her jaw tightening, but she did not respond.
She simply walked out, leaving Danzō's knowing smirk behind as she disappeared down the hallway. As Shisui stepped back into the morning-lit forest, her boots pressing against the soft ground, she inhaled deeply—steadying herself.
She hated Danzō.
Not because Danzō was dangerous—though she was.
Not because Danzō was a master manipulator—though she was.
Not because Danzō was Malik's second wife—though that certainly didn't help.
She Hated her busecuse she knew what that woman, could, would and has done.
She hated Danzō because Malik thought they were starting to get along.
And they weren't.
They were only good at lying to him, at pretending.
And for once, it seemed they could agree on something.
Shisui tightened her grip on the papers and picked up her pace, ready to return to The Root and drown herself in something more productive than dealing with Danzō Shimura.
= Dashing Through the Treetops =
Shisui moved swiftly, her footsteps silent as she darted across the tree branches, her black eyes focused on the path ahead. The wind rushed past her, carrying the uniqe scent of the forest and the faint hum of activity below—young academy students practicing basic ninja drills.
She didn't stop. Normally, she wouldn't even spare the time to look.
But then she caught sight of Ino and Sakura, standing near the clearing, watching over the group with their arms crossed as Shikamaru led the drills.
Shisui paused mid-stride, the sight of the two strong, capable women pulling her attention away from her own relentless schedule. Talking to them always seemed to cheer her up, and honestly, after the morning she had dealing with Danzō, she could use a little camaraderie.
She landed gracefully, her boots pressing lightly against the soft grass as she emerged from the treetops.
Ino and Sakura turned at the sound, immediately recognizing her. Their surprised expressions quickly softened into smiles as they approached her, leaving Shikamaru behind to deal with the academy students.
"Shisui?!" Sakura exclaimed, her tone a mix of surprise and delight. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought you'd be buried under Root missions," Ino added, her tone equally cheerful.
Shisui considered telling them about her meeting with Danzō, but quickly discarded the idea. The less people thought about Danzō Shimura, the better.
She offered them a soft smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nothing important. Just passing through."
Sakura and Ino shrugged, accepting the answer easily enough.
"What about you two?" Shisui asked, gesturing toward the group of academy students.
"We were free today," Sakura explained, her tone light. "So we volunteered to help out with the kids' training."
"I wasn't free," Shikamaru shouted over from where he stood, a handful of young students mimicking his movements as he instructed them. "They dragged me here against my will!"
Shisui raised an eyebrow as Shikamaru continued to grumble, throwing out a string of complaints about being forced to work on his day off.
"Poor guy," Shisui remarked dryly, watching him with faint amusement.
Ino turned back to Shisui, her expression softening slightly.
"Is Malik still away?" she asked casually.
Shisui hesitated for a fraction of a second, and despite all her training, both women noticed the subtle change in her demeanor—the way her face fell just slightly, the way her smile dimmed.
Ino immediately apologized, waving her hands as though trying to erase the question entirely.
"Sorry! Forget I asked," she said quickly. "We don't need to talk about that idiot anyway."
Shisui shook her head, her voice calm but tinged with faint melancholy. "It's fine. He wasn't in bed this morning, and knowing him, he'll be away for a few more days."
Ino pouted in mock sadness, crossing her arms dramatically. "Must be nice," she muttered, "having Malik sleep in your bed almost every night. I can count on two hands the number of times he's stayed over at my place."
"Liar," Sakura said immediately, her voice sharp as she shot Ino a pointed look.
Ino stuck her tongue out at her, grinning mischievously.
The conversation drifted into lighter territory, the three women sharing stories and teasing each other as Shikamaru continued working with the kids.
"You know," Ino remarked at one point, "Malik's magic mansion is nice and all, but I don't think I could live there full-time. It's too… fancy. I'd feel weird walking into a place like that every day."
Sakura snorted, shaking her head. "You say that now, but wait until you visit more often. You'll get used to it."
"That sounds like a trap," Ino muttered, earning a laugh from both Shisui and Sakura.
After a while, Shikamaru finally walked over, his expression a mix of irritation and exhaustion.
"Are you two actually going to help," he asked, gesturing toward the kids, "or spend all day talking about Malik again?"
Sakura and Ino both gave him the Look—a sharp, pointed glare that immediately made Shikamaru regret speaking at all.
"Please don't hurt me," he said quickly, raising his hands defensively.
Shisui, smiling faintly, stepped in to save him.
"Leave the poor boy alone," she said, placing a gentle hand on Ino's shoulder. "He has a point."
Sakura and Ino exchanged glances before relenting, though Shikamaru still looked visibly relieved.
Shisui turned to the younger ninja, nodding briefly. "Thanks for reminding them, Shikamaru. Keep up the good work."
With that, Shisui flickered away, disappearing into the treetops as quickly as she had arrived.
Shikamaru sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her go.
"She's too calm," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know how she deals with all that Root nonsense."
Ino shrugged, her tone casual. "She's tough. You have to be, to lead something like that."
"Tough doesn't even begin to cover it," Sakura added, crossing her arms. "She's one of the strongest people I know—mentally, emotionally, everything."
Shikamaru nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"And she's stuck dealing with Malik," Ino said, grinning mischievously. "Honestly, that's probably harder than leading the Root."
"Definitely," Sakura agreed, laughing lightly.
Shikamaru groaned, clearly done with the conversation. "You two are impossible. Just… please try to focus on the kids for a little while."
Ino and Sakura exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter, leaving Shikamaru to sigh in defeat as he turned back toward the young academy students.
=== One fast and easy Teleportation later ===
Malik and Kakashi materialized in a swirl of glowing pink light, the warmth of Malik's magic lingering briefly in the air before fading into the atmosphere. They stood in the grand entrance hall of Malik's mansion, the sheer size of the room alone enough to leave most people in awe. The floors gleamed with polished marble, intricate designs etched into every corner, while ornate chandeliers hung above, casting a warm glow over the expansive space.
Before Malik could take a single step forward, his staff reacted with trained precision, moving into formation as they all bowed deeply, their voices ringing out in perfect unison:
"Welcome back, Master Malik."
Malik froze for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression shifting into an awkward grin.
"You guys have got to stop doing that," he said, his tone light but sincere. "It makes me feel all… fluttery inside."
Kakashi, standing beside him, raised an eyebrow, his visible eye glinting with amusement.
"Fluttery?" Kakashi repeated, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Malik turned to look at him, catching the expression and sighing lightly.
"Don't start," he warned, but Kakashi had no intention of stopping.
"Do you make them announce your presence every time you come back?" Kakashi asked, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Malik groaned, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "I don't! I promise, they just started doing it on their own."
Kakashi hummed thoughtfully, clearly unconvinced.
"Oh, sure. Because that's completely normal."
"You're impossible," Malik muttered, shaking his head as they began walking through the main hall together, their footsteps echoing faintly against the polished floors.
As they moved deeper into the hall, Malik's head butler, Mitsukihime, appeared, her commanding presence instantly drawing attention.
The other staff stepped aside as she approached, their movements seamless, allowing her to take center stage.
Mitsukihime was the picture of elegance, her silver-and-green hair flowing behind her, her tailored butler's uniform impeccably neat. Her piercing green eyes locked onto Malik as she stopped before him.
She performed the Traditional Butler's Kiss with practiced grace:
First, she bent slightly, kissing the back of Malik's hand—a gesture of respect and devotion.
Then, with controlled precision, she leaned forward and placed a quick, chaste kiss on his lips, her demeanor remaining formal and professional.
"Welcome home, Master," Mitsukihime said, her voice smooth and composed, her expression neutral but warm. "I trust your journey was safe and comfortable?"
Malik smiled, the earlier awkwardness fading slightly. "Safe, yes. Comfortable? Eh, depends on who you ask."
Mitsukihime's eyes flicked briefly to Kakashi, who stood silently beside Malik, observing the interaction with mild curiosity.
Without missing a beat, Mitsukihime began listing Malik's upcoming responsibilities:
"You have several business meetings scheduled this week, including one with the advisory council regarding estate expansions," she began, her tone crisp.
"You need to sign off on the proposed renovations to the guest wing—design blueprints are waiting in your office."
"There's also a matter regarding the shipment delays from your overseas suppliers. I've prepared a report with possible solutions."
She continued smoothly, her delivery efficient yet thorough, ensuring Malik was aware of every detail.
Kakashi watched as Malik's expression shifted gradually into mild boredom.
Once Mitsukihime found a natural stopping point, Malik smiled warmly at her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Thanks, Mitsukihime," he said, his tone lighter now. "Wait for me in my ground-floor office—I'll go over everything there."
He paused, his expression turning playful.
"Oh, and switch to shorts. I'd enjoy seeing your nice legs."
Mitsukihime nodded, her demeanor unchanging despite the request. "As you wish, Master."
She turned, immediately stepping into action as she began directing the other staff, who had been standing by, quietly observing the interaction.
As Mitsukihime walked away, Kakashi finally spoke, his tone dry but amused:
"Do you kiss all your staff?"
Malik waved him off casually, laughing softly. "Nope. They wish. Mitsukihime is my boo and my head butler."
Kakashi raised an eyebrow again, clearly skeptical.
Malik ignored him, clapping his hands loudly to draw Kakashi's attention.
"Alright, my friend," Malik began, his tone cheerful. "You're free to report to Lady Fifth now. I'll come up later—I've got a few things to handle first."
Kakashi frowned slightly, his visible eye narrowing. "I'm not thrilled about giving a complicated report all by myself."
Malik waved him off again, grinning. "You'll be fine. Just give her your field report or whatever you ninjas do. I'll talk to her soon enough."
Kakashi sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You're unbelievable."
Malik chuckled, patting Kakashi on the back. "And yet you like me anyway. Safe travels, buddy!"
With that, Malik turned toward the grand staircase, ready to head to his office and deal with the mountain of responsibilities awaiting him, while Kakashi reluctantly made his way out of the mansion, already mentally preparing for his report to Lady Fifth.