Deep down, she'd been telling herself the same thing all day—that maybe the Third Kazekage had just gone off the grid. Maybe he wanted a break. Maybe he'd show up any moment, tired but fine.
But when Kozuki said it out loud, that thin thread of denial snapped.
The Third Kazekage was gone.
Really gone.
Kozuki flipped through the report, set it aside, and said quietly, "Rakuman. Notify all search teams. Tell them to return to the village and wait for further orders."
Rakuman gave a stiff nod, her body reacting before her brain could catch up. So it's true, she thought. He's dead.
And now what?
To people like her, the Kazekage wasn't just a leader. He was the one constant in a brutal place. The one person you thought might actually be unshakable.
Now he was gone.
Behind her desk, Kozuki watched Rakuman walk out like someone in a daze, but said nothing.
This was how the shinobi world worked. Sudden. Harsh. Unfair.
She turned back to her work—but paused.
Something felt… off.
There was no chakra spike, no sound, no presence. Just a strange feeling creeping in. And then, without really meaning to, she muttered:
"…If Rasa became the Fourth Kazekage… I think I'd be okay with that."
Rakuman, halfway out the door, froze.
She heard that. And it clicked.
Her steps, once heavy, picked up again.
Yeah, she thought. Maybe this isn't the end. Maybe we're not as screwed as we thought.
Back inside, Kozuki stared at her gloved hands, a little stunned she'd said that out loud.
"I barely even know him," she mumbled. "Never even talked to the guy properly. But still… someone like him? Over someone like Aoki?"
She moved to the shelves, looking for something to distract herself. But her hand stopped halfway.
"No. I'm supposed to stay neutral," she said, more to herself than anything.
"Let them compete fairly. That's the rule."
A long pause.
Then she exhaled through her nose and muttered, "Screw it."
She started digging through scrolls and reports, talking under her breath.
"Of course he's the better choice. I knew it the second I saw him at that meeting. What was I hesitating for?"
Luckily, no one else was around. Because if anyone saw Kozuki like this—the cool, reserved Kozuki?—they'd think they were hallucinating.
____________________
Meanwhile, in a hidden base across the village, Rasa checked the affection stats on his system screen.
All eight names were in the 60s now.
He grinned. "Nice."
____________________
Back in her office, Kozuki smacked her forehead. "Why the hell am I doing this alone? Clones exist, damn it!"
Moments later, five identical copies surrounded her. They all clapped their hands together.
"In service of Lord Rasa," they said in perfect sync. "Let's get to work."
____________________
Rasa was just about to push the affection values of the eight women from 80 to a full 100 when—
Knock knock!
The sudden noise from above broke his concentration.
Frowning in curiosity, he exited the secret chamber, the heavy stone door grinding open behind him as he ascended the stairs.
That's strange. I'm underground right now. Who the hell is knocking loud enough for it to sound like a drumbeat down here?
The closer he got to the surface, the louder the knocking became.
By the time he had pushed aside the floor tiles and emerged into the room above, it was like someone was pounding out a war rhythm.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming. Stop hitting the damn door like it owes you money."
As soon as Rasa's voice rang out, the booming knocks instantly softened from BANG! BANG! BANG! to a much gentler knock… knock… knock~.
He opened the door, expecting to see some hulking, impatient brute with fists like hammers.
Instead, what greeted him was… not that at all.
Standing before him was a woman in a formal, almost militaristic pose—her posture so upright it reminded him of the model elementary school student from his past life.
She wore a black trench coat and a white rabbit mask.
But even under such concealing attire, Rasa could clearly tell she had a fantastic figure.
The curve of her silhouette under the loose coat, the flawless porcelain of the skin on her exposed neck, the glimpse of her pristine ankles and calves—every detail screamed that she took excellent care of herself.
So this is one of the famous Shadow Guard beauties…
And from the style of her uniform and mask, Rasa immediately recognized her status from his inherited memories.
High-ranking. Elite. Wind Shadow's personal guard.
Before he could speak, the woman abruptly bent forward into a deep ninety-degree bow!
Rasa blinked.
Huh?!
What the hell was going on?