Hanekawa woke before dawn, his mind already running through the day's agenda. Three days had passed since the Chunin Exams ended, and yesterday's message from Tsuchihashi meant an undercover meeting at the Konoha Knowledge Bookstore. Add breakfast duty for Tsunade and Kurenai—who was still staying over while her father completed a mission—and the morning was already packed.
He dressed quickly and jogged through the quiet village streets, arriving at the bookstore just as the sun began to paint the sky orange.
"Uncle Tsuchihashi," Hanekawa greeted, exchanging the coded phrases that marked him as a Cloud operative.
The older man smiled warmly. "Congratulations on first place in the Chunin Exam. You've made quite the impression for the Hidden Cloud."
"Just luck," Hanekawa replied, settling into the familiar routine of espionage. "What did you need to discuss?"
Tsuchihashi's expression turned serious. "War is coming. Lord Raikage believes you'll play a crucial role when it arrives. Your current position and access to Konoha's secrets could prove invaluable."
Of course they do, Hanekawa thought, keeping his face neutral. And I'll play along right up until I don't.
The irony wasn't lost on him. He was an orphan with no real ties to the Hidden Cloud—nothing worth betraying Konoha for. Once his usefulness ended or his cover was blown, he'd simply deny everything. Who would believe Tsunade's student was a spy?
But until then, he could extract maximum value.
"I'll do my best," he said aloud. "What information do you need?"
"The Nine-Tails Jinchuriki," Tsuchihashi said. "We need confirmation of their identity before hostilities begin."
"I have some leads, but nothing concrete yet," Hanekawa admitted. "I'm working on it."
"And is there anything else?"
Hanekawa paused, considering. The Third Kazekage's disappearance was significant intelligence—and strategically useful. The Hidden Sand would destabilize without their strongest leader. That instability would eventually lead to war with Konoha, which meant the Hidden Cloud needed to understand the shifting landscape.
"Actually, yes," he said carefully. "Information regarding the Hidden Sand. The Third Kazekage has been missing for some time. My sources suggest he may be dead."
Tsuchihashi's eyes widened. "That's... are you certain?"
"As certain as I can be," Hanekawa replied smoothly. "My teacher mentioned it."
Tsunade would never confirm it, and the Hidden Cloud knows it. But the information itself is valuable enough that they'll investigate independently.
Tsuchihashi recovered quickly, excitement flickering across his face. "This is significant intelligence. If true, the Hidden Sand must be in chaos."
"More than chaos," Hanekawa added. "Weakened considerably."
"We'll send this to Lord Raikage immediately." Tsuchihashi paused, then added with a smile, "Though I'd recommend he verify the information first, just to be safe."
"Wise precaution," Hanekawa agreed.
Before leaving, he handed over a scroll. "A new novel from my friend. The publisher wanted it released alongside the previous works."
Tsuchihashi's eyes lit up. The novels under the pen name Rai Kaen had become surprisingly profitable—far more reliable income than most spy work. "I'll arrange publication right away. Your friend's success is... remarkable."
After exchanging final pleasantries, Hanekawa left the bookstore and headed toward Tsunade's house. The morning was warming up, and he had breakfast to prepare.
He let himself in with his key and knocked on her bedroom door.
"Why so early?" Tsunade's drowsy voice came through. The door opened to reveal her leaning against the frame, still half-asleep, her silhouette backlit by the morning light streaming through her window.
Don't stare. Don't stare. Don't stare.
"It's getting late, actually," he said, keeping his eyes carefully neutral. "You should wash up."
"Fine, fine," she mumbled, turning back to bed. "Make breakfast. And throw my clothes in the washing machine, would you?"
His eye twitched slightly. "Sure."
In the bathroom, he found her clothes scattered carelessly near the tub—jackets, shirts, trousers, and... definitely not looking at that. He efficiently gathered everything and started the machine.
Meanwhile, Tsunade sat up in bed, suddenly mortified. Oh gods, what was I thinking? She pressed her forehead, face burning. He's not a child anymore. I need to be more careful.
By the time she emerged from her room, freshly showered, Hanekawa had breakfast ready—a steaming bowl of tonkotsu ramen.
"Teacher, I'm heading back to my place," he said, setting down her chopsticks. "I promised to cook for Kurenai."
Tsunade's expression flickered—disappointment, maybe? "Already? You don't want to spend time with your teacher?"
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, already moving toward the door.
The soft click of the door closing left Tsunade staring at her ramen, appetite mysteriously diminished.
---
Back at his apartment, Hanekawa found Kurenai already awake, sitting on the couch in her pajamas while applying lipstick. The morning light caught the glossy pink sheen perfectly.
"Hungry?" he asked, catching the faint floral scent of her perfume.
"Starving," she said, quickly putting away her lipstick. "Will you teach me to cook?"
"What do you want to learn?"
"Rice balls," she said immediately. "If I can make those, I can make bento boxes."
For her father, Hanekawa thought with amusement. Sure.
"For me?" he asked, poking her cheek.
"Depends on my mood!" she shot back, blushing furiously before stomping toward the kitchen, her small feet making determined slaps against the floor.
Hanekawa followed, shaking his head with a smile. At least someone's straightforward about their feelings.
The morning sun filled the kitchen as he began teaching her the basics, her ruby-red eyes focused intently on his hands as he demonstrated the proper technique. Outside, the village was waking up, unaware that one of its most promising young ninja was simultaneously a spy, a novelist, and apparently now a cooking instructor.
Just another day in the life, he thought, watching Kurenai's determined expression as she tried to shape her first rice ball.
Relaxed and invincible. That's the plan.
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