Night
Kurama Clan Compound, Konohagakure
Uchiha Naraku arrived at the Kurama Clan's compound, flanked by his guards.
The Kurama were a prestigious genjutsu-specialist clan, much like the Uchiha. As the old saying goes: "Rivalry thrives among those who walk the same path." Perhaps that was why Naraku had initially been reluctant to accept the invitation.
Still, curiosity overcame caution. The Kurama clan head had requested a private meeting—discreet and unscheduled. That alone warranted attention.
---
Inside the Kurama Compound
In the courtyard, dancers spun elegantly to music under the moonlight. Kurama Ryouta, the clan head, clapped his hands softly. The performers halted in unison and exited gracefully.
Naraku watched with quiet amusement.
"Why do clan leaders like Ryouta and the Uzumaki live such luxurious lives?" he mused. "Meanwhile, I—leader of the Uchiha—am constantly buried in reports and council politics. It's almost unfair."
He had only ever interacted with the Uzumaki and now the Kurama. Both clans, despite their struggles, seemed to maintain a lifestyle that put the Uchiha's rigid discipline to shame.
---
"Please, Naraku-sama," Ryouta gestured, "Have some tea. This is a premium blend from the capital of the Land of Fire."
Naraku accepted the porcelain cup, used the lid to swirl the leaves, and blew away the rising steam. The tea was bitter at first but mellowed into a smooth, sweet aftertaste.
"Excellent tea," he praised.
"Haha! I'm glad you like it. Please take some back with you," Ryouta offered with a hearty laugh and clapped again.
A servant appeared, carrying a lacquered tray with two ornate tea jars and two scrolls placed beside them. After setting them down, she bowed and withdrew.
"What's this?" Naraku asked.
"The scrolls contain some of our clan's insights into genjutsu training. Uchiha are masters of illusion too—this is my small gesture of goodwill. Perhaps you might offer your advice in the future?"
Naraku's eyes narrowed slightly. A gift paired with a favour masked as flattery… He knew how these things worked.
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't accept something for nothing. It's too generous," Naraku declined with a polite smile.
Ryouta's expression darkened for a fleeting moment. Then, with another wave of his hand, the remaining servants retreated.
To Naraku's surprise, Ryouta stood and then dropped to his knees before him.
Startled, Naraku quickly moved to lift him, but Ryouta bowed low in full prostration.
"Please, Lord Naraku, save us!"
Naraku gripped Ryouta's arm and pulled him up with a firm surge of chakra. "What are you doing? Get up. Let's speak properly."
---
Kurama Ryouta's Plea
Ryouta's cheerful façade was gone, replaced by weary eyes and trembling hands.
"My clan was once proud—thirty Jōnin, nearly a thousand Genin and Chūnin. But now… only five Jōnin remain. Barely a hundred shinobi in total."
"I've been in Konoha for over three decades. I've watched my clan wither year by year. On the surface, the mission records look normal. But they're too normal. It's like someone is slowly bleeding us dry under the cover of routine duty."
Naraku listened intently, remaining silent.
Ryouta continued, voice tinged with bitterness, "Someone is orchestrating our decline from the shadows. I feel it. And I've exhausted every channel I can access. That's why I turned to you."
Naraku finally responded. "The rate of loss does seem abnormal… But you want the Uchiha to intervene?"
"Yes," Ryouta said. "I want to request permission for some of my clansmen to join the Konoha Military Police Force. Under your protection, they might finally have stability—and maybe I'll get a chance to uncover the truth."
Naraku's eyes narrowed. The Military Police Force was traditionally under strict Uchiha control. Only the Uzumaki, due to their unique alliance and sealing arts, were allowed entry.
"The guard isn't just a title," Naraku said carefully. "It has limited positions. If I let your clan in, my own people lose those spots. And the Third Hokage is already cutting our funding…"
"We will donate one hundred million ryō to the Force," Ryouta said swiftly. "For training, equipment, or whatever else is needed."
Naraku hesitated. The real benefit isn't just the money—it's safety. The Police Force operates inside Konoha. That means no war missions, no border patrol, no ANBU assignments. Just routine law enforcement and surveillance.
It was a lifeline for a dying clan.
"All right. I can authorize ten positions," Naraku finally said. "I'll process the changes over the next two days."
Ryouta's eyes lit up. "Two hundred million. Twenty positions."
Naraku blinked. "That's—"
"Please. That's my final offer."
Naraku sighed, feigning reluctance. "Very well. Twenty. No more."
Inside, he was smiling. Two hundred million for twenty non-critical slots. Ryouta is desperate, but he's also generous.
Outwardly, he maintained a neutral expression.
"A generous man, this Ryouta," he thought. "And one who knows how to make a deal."