Merging with Hashirama’s cells was a long and agonizing process.
Arashi watched for a while longer before preparing to leave with Itachi.
Before departing, however, he pulled Shizune aside and carefully gave her several instructions.
Shizune looked reluctant.
Only after Arashi repeatedly reassured her and made a certain promise did she finally nod.
Afterward, Arashi continued sending a shadow clone to train with Duy while his real body worked in the office.
Humans truly were remarkably adaptable creatures.
After so much intense daily training, Arashi could feel himself gradually adjusting.
When the workday ended, he dispelled his clone and spent a while catching his breath.
He then told Itachi to return home, since he had an appointment with Konoha’s greatest strategist.
“No.”
Unexpectedly, Itachi remained stubbornly in place.
“Shisui-niisan told me that Orochimaru bears you ill will.
He ordered me to protect you carefully today.”
Orochimaru had revealed killing intent twice that morning.
There was no chance someone of Shisui’s level had failed to notice it.
Still, asking Itachi to protect Arashi sounded like a joke.
No matter how gifted he was, the boy was only six years old.
“We’re going to an izakaya.”
Arashi sighed helplessly.
“A child like you can’t enter a place like that.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
Itachi answered seriously.
“I can conceal myself and guard you from the shadows.
Please ignore my presence and continue with your business as usual.”
“Fine.
This is the shinobi world, after all.”
Arashi stretched.
No one here would accuse him of being a heartless employer forcing a child to work unreasonable hours.
If Itachi insisted on following him, then so be it.
Meanwhile, inside the Nara compound…
“I really don’t want to go.”
Nara Shikaku sighed after finishing his preparations.
“Then don’t go.”
His wife appeared fierce on the surface, but was actually an extremely gentle woman.
“The Nara clan has always remained neutral, and the Yamanaka and Akimichi clans stand beside us.”
“Could a mere Hokage advisor truly force you to do anything?”
“The Hokage’s advisor isn’t the problem.”
Shikaku sighed again.
“The problem is the group of lunatics standing behind him—the Uchiha.”
Arashi knew an ordinary invitation might not be enough to bring out someone like Shikaku.
Therefore, he had thoughtfully mentioned in the letter that a member of Root from the Nara clan had wounded Inabi.
The Uchiha were widely disliked throughout Konoha, and no one wanted to become involved with them.
Nevertheless, everyone remained wary of the clan.
They were both powerful and unstable.
The method of awakening the Sharingan practically guaranteed that the Uchiha produced their fair share of emotionally disturbed people.
Without the cautious Fugaku restraining them, countless incidents would likely have erupted already.
What would happen if those lunatics learned that a Nara had cut down an Uchiha?
Shikaku had already known about the incident.
Since the Third Hokage promised to suppress it, he had not been overly concerned.
But Arashi deliberately raising the matter changed everything.
First, Arashi had been the intended victim.
At its most extreme, the incident could be described as the Nara clan attempting to assassinate the Hokage’s chief advisor.
Second, Arashi had grown exceptionally close to the Uchiha.
If he spread the claim that a Nara attacked one of their clansmen, even the Third Hokage might not be able to stop the Uchiha from exploding in rage.
It was the classic case of a scholar meeting a soldier—reason became completely useless.
Shikaku now found himself in precisely that awkward position.
Even though he knew tonight’s gathering was almost certainly a trap, he had no choice but to attend.
…
The private room inside the izakaya was dimly lit, and the atmosphere felt unusually subtle.
Arashi had already ordered the food and drinks and was waiting with his familiar narrow-eyed smile.
“Apologies for keeping you waiting, Advisor-sama.”
Shikaku soon opened the door and entered.
Despite his brilliant mind, he disliked socializing just as much as his future son, Shikamaru.
Or rather, perhaps the son simply resembled his father.
Shikaku offered no unnecessary pleasantries.
“Allow me to offer you a drink.”
He raised his cup in greeting.
“The honor is mine.”
Arashi raised his own cup.
After they drank, Shikaku immediately approached the real subject.
“Advisor Kaeda, there’s no need for indirect words between us.”
“I assume you didn’t invite me merely because of the Root incident.”
“Danzo-sama can handle such a minor matter himself.
There would be no reason to trouble you with it.”
Arashi chuckled and refilled both cups.
“I primarily invited you to discuss the project to eliminate redundant middle-ranking positions.”
“Surely you aren’t planning to eliminate me, Advisor Kaeda?”
Shikaku joked lightly and drank again.
“How could I?”
“You are one of Hiruzen-sama’s most trusted supporters and a veteran who has served through multiple administrations.”
“Removing you would be like cutting off one of Konoha’s own arms.”
Arashi also disliked social occasions.
However, whenever necessary, he could exchange empty compliments all night.
“I’m hardly one of his arms.”
Shikaku sighed and took a bite of tempura.
“I merely tread carefully and do what I can to protect my clan.”
Those words were sincere.
Shikaku occupied an extremely awkward position.
One step upward would make him a true Hokage advisor, granting him enormous authority and a place among those who looked down upon the village from above.
One step downward would place him among the ordinary clan heads.
They carried fewer burdens and rarely attracted the attention of people like Arashi.
As long as Konoha did not collapse entirely, they could live comfortably.
Shikaku alone was trapped in the middle.
As jonin commander, he was required to attend even the selection of a new Hokage, yet he lacked the authority that should have accompanied his influence.
“Shikaku-san is far too modest.”
“Everyone knows Hiruzen-sama trusts you deeply.
You have nearly reached the highest position a minister could attain.”
Arashi continued filling his cup.
“For an ordinary shinobi, your current position may already be the limit.”
“You praise me too highly.”
Shikaku placed a hand over his cup but did not lift it.
“The highest point an ordinary shinobi can reach is surely the Fourth Hokage.”
His gaze sharpened as he looked directly at Arashi.
“And you, the Hokage’s chief advisor, stand above everyone but one man.”
“Why would someone like you personally pour drinks for an insignificant man like me?”
“I’m hardly above everyone but one.”
Arashi calmly lifted his cup.
“I’m merely an outsider whom villagers can insult whenever they please.”
“No matter how deeply the Fourth Hokage trusts someone of unknown origin, this is likely as far as I can rise.”
“But you are different, Shikaku-san.”
Arashi did not drink.
Instead, he placed the cup down and leaned forward slightly.
“Have you never considered climbing one final step?”
Shikaku’s grip suddenly tightened around his cup.
His expression quickly returned to normal, but Arashi still caught the brief change.
One final step beyond his current position could only mean…
The Elder Council.
Joining the council would be entirely different from remaining Konoha’s famed strategist with recognition but little real power.
He would wield genuine authority, gain countless benefits, and even possess the ability to restrain the Hokage.
The Nara clan could expand to a shocking degree in an instant.
Was Shikaku tempted?
Of course he was.
Did he dare pursue it?
Absolutely not.
Even that momentary temptation was quickly crushed.
Shikaku understood that Konoha’s power and resources had already been divided among its existing factions.
There was no room for another great house.
If the Nara tried to elevate themselves into one, they would become the next Uchiha.
Shikaku was intelligent enough to know what could be pursued and what must never be coveted.
The vague promise Arashi offered clearly belonged to the latter category.
“I have devoted my entire life to Konoha and have never desired such empty titles.”
Shikaku spoke with righteous conviction.
“Advisor Kaeda, forgive my bluntness, but I cannot accept your proposal.”
“Farewell.”
He did not even ask what Arashi wanted from him.
Anyone willing to use a seat on the Elder Council as bait must be planning something enormous.
Perhaps Arashi even intended to replace the current order entirely.
The Ino-Shika-Cho clans had survived in Konoha by remaining completely neutral and advancing or retreating together.
They did not seek overwhelming prosperity.
They merely wished to preserve a peaceful corner for themselves, regardless of who ruled the village.
Arashi’s proposal clearly violated that principle and touched Shikaku’s greatest concern.
Naturally, he refused to remain any longer.
Just as Shikaku placed his hand on the door, Arashi’s voice sounded behind him.
“The Fourth Hokage and I have discussed this matter at length.”
“We believe it may be time to make certain changes to the Elder Council.”
“A position may become vacant before long.”
No matter how determined Shikaku was to leave, his movements still paused.
Then Arashi continued.
“And when that happens, I will strongly recommend Shikaku-san as the council’s newest member.”
“I don’t require your recommendation.”
Shikaku turned back with a calm expression.
“Advisor Kaeda, whatever you intend to change and whoever you intend to target has nothing to do with the Ino-Shika-Cho clans.”
“As long as you do not provoke us, we can coexist peacefully.”
He was clearly wary enough to invoke all three clans, hoping their combined influence would force Arashi to retreat.
Instead, Arashi’s next words made Shikaku’s vision go dark.
“Whether I recommend you has nothing to do with whether you need it.”
Arashi smiled faintly.
“It depends entirely on whether I need to recommend you.”
“I don’t even require a council member to step down.”
“I can simply begin advocating for your appointment right now.”
“Do you understand?”
“You!”
Shikaku’s gaze instantly sharpened.
How could he fail to understand the threat?
He could refuse to enter these troubled waters, but that would not stop someone else from dragging him in.
No matter how often he declared his neutrality, Arashi could constantly recommend him for a position on the Elder Council.
Would anyone believe Shikaku had no connection to Arashi?
Why would Arashi repeatedly promote him if they truly had nothing to do with each other?
It was a classic method of destroying someone through praise.
To isolate a person, one could praise them so excessively that even their genuine virtues began to seem undeserved.
Everyone would eventually view them as an overrated, greedy fraud.
Thinking more darkly, Arashi could also send Uchiha clansmen to visit the Nara compound every few days.
Would Shikaku receive them?
Refusing might anger those unreasonable Uchiha lunatics.
Accepting them would seemingly confirm that the Nara and Arashi were secretly allied.
Shikaku’s thoughts moved rapidly, and he had already imagined Arashi’s next several steps.
Yet all he felt was the grief of a scholar facing an unreasonable soldier.
Against someone willing to twist logic so shamelessly, even perfect reasoning became impossible to explain.
However, Shikaku was no reckless fool.
After only a moment of thought, he returned to his seat without changing his expression.
“What do you want, Advisor Kaeda?”
This was not surrender.
The true contest between two strategists had only just begun.
Shikaku intended to deduce Arashi’s plans from what he requested, then respond according to the situation.
Unexpectedly, Arashi merely shrugged and smiled.
“Shikaku-san, I have never been a greedy man.”
“I only need you to provide a list of Konoha’s middle-ranking shinobi, along with their duties and salaries.”
“I’ll handle everything else myself.”
“You need do nothing more.”
“That’s all?”
Shikaku froze slightly.
Arashi’s request was far smaller than he had expected.
It almost gave him the pleasant illusion that he was gaining something from the deal.
“That’s all.”
Arashi nodded with a smile.
“If I handed every task to you, my career as chief advisor would already be over, wouldn’t it?”
…