"Oh, by the way—there's something I should remind you of, Young Clan Leader."
"What is it?"
Uchiha Fugaku looked puzzled. Had he overlooked something?
"No matter who ends up as Hokage, the Uchiha can't just abandon the other candidate. Our stance toward both should stay the same."
Fugaku frowned. "Minato isn't a problem, but Lord Orochimaru… we'd have to put down real money for him."
"We're rich, but not fools."
"Of course. I didn't explain myself clearly. I'm not saying we give without return. We can exchange value for value, but we shouldn't suddenly cut off funding altogether."
"Even if Lord Orochimaru loses the Hokage race, his strength, status, and influence remain. Offending him without reason would be reckless."
No one at this point could imagine Orochimaru, the Third Hokage's prized student and Hokage candidate, would one day betray Konoha. What Gen said sounded perfectly reasonable.
Orochimaru's influence wasn't something to dismiss. In the future, even after more than a decade as a missing-nin, Konoha would try to suppress news of his deeds, yet people like Mizuki would still admire him.
"Don't worry," Fugaku said. "I'm not that short-sighted. As long as there's something in return, I'll keep the funding going."
Gen's expression shifted slightly. "Young Clan Leader, I didn't mean..."
"Don't overthink it. I know you're doing this for the clan's good. Why would I blame you?"
Fugaku hid his satisfaction behind a calm smile. Gen, for his part, exhaled.
"It's getting late. I won't keep you from your work any longer."
"Go on," Fugaku said, already reaching for his pen to tackle the pile of documents on his desk.
Leaving the office, Gen didn't head home. Instead, he went to find Uchiha Yashiro. He borrowed Yashiro's office to write a letter and post it, then tapped into the Police Force's channels to locate Mitarashi Anko.
Orochimaru was elusive; going straight to his home was unlikely to work. And since this was their first meeting, etiquette called for an introduction via an intermediary.
Personally, Gen couldn't care less about etiquette. Orochimaru valued talent above all—if you were skilled and useful, he wouldn't bother with trivialities. But right now Gen wasn't just representing himself; he was representing the Uchiha.
That meant doing things properly.
Once he had Anko's location, Gen left the Police Department, crossed out of Uchiha territory, and headed into Konoha's busy commercial district.
Ten minutes later, he arrived at a shop called Sweet Home, known for its desserts—particularly red bean soup and sticky rice balls.
"Welcome!"
Two waitresses in white-and-red maid-style uniforms lit up at the sight of him, their voices suddenly three times sweeter and higher than usual.
Gen smiled. "A bowl of red bean soup and an order of sticky rice balls, please."
The waitresses, looking momentarily dazed, snapped to attention and hurried to place the order.
Being handsome has its perks, Gen thought. In his previous life, he'd never been treated quite like this.
Glancing around, he spotted a girl with lavender hair in a bun, wearing dark brown clothes. She had a sharp, confident face and was halfway through her own serving of sticky rice balls and red bean soup.
He took the seat next to her.
She looked up, frowning. "Who are you?"
Gen's blue shirt and white pants gave him an easy, casual look; the faint smile on his face made him seem both fresh and approachable.
"Uchiha Gen," he said.
"From the Uchiha clan?" Twelve-year-old Mitarashi Anko shook her head. "Doesn't look like it. What do you want with me?"
Gen didn't circle around. He slid a folded note onto the table. "I want to meet your teacher, Orochimaru-sama. Not just on my behalf, on behalf of the Uchiha clan."
"And this…" he gestured toward the approaching waiter with the tray, "…is a thank-you gift."
Anko's eyes lit up. She swallowed, then clapped him on the shoulder with a grin. "You've got some skill. Alright, I'll help."
"Please, enjoy," Gen said, waving the waiter away.
"Not going to introduce yourself more? We could end up as fellow disciples." He pushed the food toward her.
"Fellow disciples?" Anko snorted. "Orochimaru-sensei's standards are very high."
Of course, Gen thought. In this timeline she hadn't gone with Orochimaru to the Third Shinobi War. She wouldn't have seen him on the battlefield.
Orochimaru still had some humanity left—after losing Nawaki, he wouldn't risk sending a Genin like Anko into the meat grinder.
"I believe I meet the requirements," Gen said.
Anko gave him an appraising look. "You're easy on the eyes. Wouldn't be bad to have a junior brother."
"Why not a senior brother?"
"I joined first," she said, crossing her arms.
"But I'm older, thirteen, and probably stronger."
"Oh yeah? What makes you think you're stronger than me?"
"I'm very powerful," she said seriously, setting down her food and raising her fists.
Gen propped his chin on his hand, looking utterly unconcerned. "I'm already a jōnin."
"…Jōnin?" Her mind reeled. One year older than her, and already jōnin? Could he be another Kakashi-level prodigy? No—impossible!
"Anyone can brag," she muttered. "Why not say you're Hokage already?"
"Want to bet?"
"What's the bet?"
"If I'm a jōnin, you call me Senior Brother from now on. If I'm not, I call you Senior Sister and I pay for all your desserts, forever."
She weighed the stakes. Senior Brother, Senior Sister, it didn't matter. But free sweets for life? No way he was telling the truth.
"Fine. Bet's on."
Gen smiled, straightened in his seat, and formed hand seals.
With a soft bang, a puff of white smoke cleared, revealing another identical Gen beside him.
Some customers looked over briefly before going back to their meals; ninjutsu wasn't an unusual sight in Konoha.
"Go home and bring your jōnin certificate," Anko said.
"Alright." Gen stood and walked toward the door.
"Was that a Shadow Clone just now?" she called after him.
"Sharp eye," he said, without looking back.
Her stomach sank. Shadow Clone was a B-rank technique—hard enough for chūnin, let alone genin. She might really have to call him Senior Brother.
"Hey, cheer up," Gen said over his shoulder. "Isn't it good to have a senior brother? If someone bullies you, I'll help you get even."
"I have a teacher for that," she said.
"Would you bother Orochimaru-sama over something small? Wouldn't he be disappointed to see his disciple can't handle herself?"
The words hit home. She clenched her fists. She couldn't let her teacher down.
Maybe… having a senior brother wouldn't be so bad.