"Boom..."
The violent explosion made people's ears ring.
When the smoke cleared, a huge crater had been blasted into the ground.
Deidara stood at the edge of the pit with his hands on his hips, grinning smugly.
"Hahahaha... See that? That is art!"
More than a dozen young Suna ninja were gathered around him, every one of them staring with shining eyes and open admiration.
"Lord Deidara is amazing!"
"That's way more powerful than explosive tags!"
"Can you teach us how to make them?"
Deidara swept them with a smug look.
"You want to learn? Sure. But my art isn't something just anyone can master..."
"You need talent, you need passion, and most importantly..."
He raised one finger with exaggerated seriousness.
"You need a heart that pursues the ultimate explosion!"
The young Suna ninja nodded frantically.
In the distance, several jonin assigned to supervise the training watched the scene with complicated expressions.
"Is it really a good idea to have a recently surrendered rogue ninja teaching our people?"
"It's the Kazekage's order. You dare question it?"
"N-no."
"Then that settles it."
"Still..."
The man paused and looked at Deidara's ridiculously pleased expression, his tone turning strange.
"He's actually teaching them pretty seriously."
And he really was.
Seriously enough that people might start wondering whether he had genuinely begun treating them like his own disciples.
The task Teizawa had given him was simple: build a demolition unit and teach the Suna ninja how to use his clay bomb techniques.
They were even supposed to research how to integrate explosive devices into puppets and armor.
Deidara had refused at first.
"How can my art be taught to just anybody?!"
Teizawa had replied with only one sentence.
"Do you want to know more about Uchiha Itachi?"
Deidara had agreed on the spot.
And now, not only was he teaching, he was doing it with startling seriousness.
Because Teizawa had said that once this batch finished training, he would tell him more about the secrets of Itachi's Mangekyo Sharingan.
"In the future, are you all going to dominate the battlefield or not?!"
Deidara waved his clay around and shouted at the young Suna ninja.
A new round of explosions rang out across the training ground.
...
That evening, inside the Kazekage's office, Teizawa stood by the window, looking out over the busy village.
The glow of the setting sun spilled across the newly built sheds, across the hurried figures rushing back and forth, and across the golden sand beyond.
The entire village was bathed in golden light.
Everything was moving according to plan.
Seawater desalination, road building, steel puppets, an aerial unit, and more: every project was advancing in an orderly way.
Gaara had gone to the coast.
Kankuro, Chiyo, and Sasori were at the development center.
Deidara was training the demolition unit.
Everyone had become busy.
Teizawa withdrew his gaze and turned back to the desk piled with reports.
They were intelligence reports on the Akatsuki.
There had been no movement yet from Pain's side.
But he knew that was only temporary calm.
The Akatsuki had lost four members. There was no way they would let the matter go so easily.
They were waiting, waiting for a suitable opportunity.
And what he needed to do before that opportunity arrived was make the Sand Village strong enough.
Strong enough that no one would dare provoke it lightly.
Outside the window, night had already begun to settle.
In the distance, the lamps of the sand bath house lit up one by one.
A smile rose at the corner of Teizawa's mouth.
After a full day of work, it was time to relax a little.
He took off his Kazekage robe and changed into ordinary clothes.
Then he used a Henge no Jutsu (Transformation Jutsu / Transformation Technique) to assume a plain, forgettable face and stepped out the door.
There were still more reports waiting for him behind him in the office.
But those could wait until tomorrow.
Tonight...
He wondered whether Sakura's sour expression might soften a little.
He wondered whether Ino would agree to a few of his more excessive requests.
...
The next morning, inside the Kazekage's office.
"Be good. I'm doing all this for the Sand Village."
Leaning back in his chair, Teizawa said in a coaxing tone, "Put romance aside for now."
Temari stood in front of the desk with her arms folded.
That sharp, spirited face of hers was filled with resentment.
Of course she knew what Teizawa had been busy with lately.
The business at the sand bath house might be hidden from the Konoha group, but there was no way it could be hidden from her.
Sen came back every day to report.
Granted, she was reporting on official matters.
But the resentment in her eyes was practically spilling over.
"For the Sand Village?"
"Put romance aside?"
More like...
Temari bit her lip and refused to continue the thought.
She was too thin-skinned to say those words out loud.
But she could show her dissatisfaction in other ways.
Smack.
She dropped a thick stack of papers onto Teizawa's desk.
"The latest count says the number of houses in the Sand Village that need rebuilding is now one thousand two hundred and thirty-one."
Teizawa had just lifted his teacup, and his hand paused in midair.
"Wait."
He set the cup down, looking as though he suspected he had misheard.
"How many?"
"One thousand two hundred and thirty-one."
Temari repeated the number, a hint of schadenfreude in her tone.
"Didn't you say before that dangerous old houses should be rebuilt? This is the newest total."
Teizawa stared at her.
He remembered clearly...
Back when they had first taken the numbers at the assembly, the reported total for unsafe houses had only been one hundred and eight.
He remembered it so well because the number was easy to remember.
One hundred and eight. A very memorable figure.
So how had it suddenly turned into more than a thousand?
"That's impossible."
He frowned.
"There were only one hundred and eight. Was the count wrong?"
Temari's expression turned a little strange.
There was amusement in it, and helplessness too.
And also that delicate sort of expression that said, You're not going to like what comes next.
"The count isn't wrong."
She said, "At first, yes, there were only one hundred and eight. But..."
She paused.
"After a lot of villagers saw the first wave of newly built houses, they started thinking their own homes looked too shabby to match the new Sand Village..."
Teizawa's brow lifted slightly.
"And then?"
"And then..."
Temari's tone grew even stranger.
"They tore their own houses down."
Teizawa: "..."
"After tearing them down, they reported them and said the houses had collapsed, were unsafe, and needed rebuilding."
The corner of Teizawa's mouth twitched.
"So... out of these one thousand two hundred and thirty-one, how many are actual dangerous houses?"
Temari thought about it.
"Maybe... two or three hundred?"
"And the rest?"
"The rest are houses whose owners turned them into dangerous houses with their own hands."
Teizawa fell silent.
He looked at the thick stack of papers.
For a moment, he genuinely did not know what to say.
Simple and honest folk.
Those four words surfaced in his mind.
Yes, they really were.
So simple and honest that in order to get a new house, they had first demolished the old one.
Then they had come, utterly justified, to ask for a rebuilding slot.
What was he supposed to say?
Criticize them?
Tell them they should not have done that?
But those houses really were dangerous houses now. A self-demolished dangerous house was still a dangerous house.
Refuse them?
Tell them they were faking it?
But those people were looking eagerly at the new homes.
Then looking back at their own crumbling old places with that kind of yearning in their eyes...
Teizawa let out a sigh.
"Forget it."
He waved a hand.
"We have the money anyway."
Temari looked at him, and the corners of her lips rose slightly.
The resentment on her face finally faded a little.
"Then I'll submit the numbers as they are?"
"Go ahead, go ahead."
Teizawa waved his hand helplessly.
"Tell the construction teams to move faster."
"Try to get everyone into new homes before the sandstorms come."
"Yes."
Temari answered, but did not leave right away.
She remained standing there, looking at the helpless expression on Teizawa's face.
Suddenly, she found it a little funny.
This man who was decisive in battle and skilled at calculating hearts in politics had been rendered completely helpless by a group of villagers who tore down their own houses just to qualify for new ones.
"What is it?"
Teizawa noticed her gaze and looked up.
Temari shook her head and turned to leave.
When she reached the door, she suddenly stopped.
"Are you going to the sand bath house again tonight?"
She did not look back. Her tone was flat.
Teizawa paused.
Then he laughed.
"Yes."
He said, "But tonight, you're coming with me."
Temari's back stiffened slightly.
She said nothing and pushed the door open to leave.
But Teizawa clearly saw that the corners of her lips had lifted.
The sunlight outside was bright and warm.
He withdrew his gaze and looked back at the thick stack of papers on the desk.
One thousand two hundred and thirty-one houses.
He shook his head, but a smile still touched his mouth.
This, more than anything, was probably what winning the people's hearts looked like.
The method had been a little too simple and direct, but the sincerity behind it was real.
He picked up his pen and began approving documents.
The construction of the Sand Village had only just begun.
(End of Chapter)
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