"That kid wants to start her own factory??"
Even Kurenai—normally the picture of composure—let out a startled whisper.
"Yeah. And from what I can tell, she wants me as the guarantor and partner."
Asuma's gaze drifted, a sign that his mind was churning through something complicated. He wasn't at some neutral location, either—he was sitting in Kurenai's personal quarters.
"...So, what do you think?"
Kurenai lowered her eyes. The conflict in her expression mirrored his own.
The shinobi profession was, without question, the most high-profile career in this world. It was also, without question, the most dangerous. Even Kage-level ninja could die overnight. Afterward, there might not even be a body to recover.
Both Asuma and Kurenai had been born during the Great Ninja War. They'd become shinobi at six or seven, and two decades of blood and thunder had passed in a blink. They were both twenty-seven now.
Unless you were a born killer, eventually the constant uncertainty and violence wore you down.
As Jōnin, their loyalty to Konoha was beyond question. But they were still people—with desires, responsibilities, hopes, and longings of their own.
And what person wouldn't wish for a quiet, stable life? A warm home where you didn't have to wonder every morning whether today was the day you died.
But as shinobi, those opportunities were vanishingly rare. Mission pay covered expenses comfortably enough, but without a reliable livelihood to anchor it, the money never brought real peace of mind.
Beyond duty to the village, many shinobi stayed in the profession not because they wanted to, but because they'd never found another way to live.
"Yeah. It's a good opportunity. I still have some savings—putting them toward this is fine. And whenever the village doesn't need me anymore... I think being a full-time photo developer would suit me just fine~"
Scratching the back of his head, Asuma offered a gentle smile. Kurenai studied him for a long moment, then rose and walked to her wardrobe. She returned with a bankbook and slid it across the table.
"Kurenai, what—"
He stared at the woman sitting across from him, his voice trailing off.
"Count me in. When the village doesn't need me anymore, I think... making meals and doing laundry for a certain photo developer wouldn't be so bad..."
She bit her lip and looked down. The flush creeping across her face made her meaning unmistakable. Asuma nodded slowly and, summoning his courage, reached across the table to take her hand.
"Yeah... that sounds like a truly peaceful life."
The following morning~
"Huh?? A partnership? What does that mean?"
Inside the Uchiha Compound, the full crew had assembled for the first time in a while—convened specifically to discuss Hinata's plan to go independent.
"I've decided to cut ties with the old publisher. They've been bleeding us dry for too long. So~ I'm building a printing factory right here in Konoha, and naturally~ the size of each person's investment will determine the share they hold in the company."
Rather than waste time explaining things to Naruto, Hinata addressed the two flanking her—Shikamaru on one side, Shino on the other. "So, what do you think?"
"Controlling the revenue stream directly does maximize profit. We've built the name recognition and the capital, so this is the logical next step. I'm in."
Shino pushed his glasses up without a moment's hesitation. As Hinata's most die-hard loyalist, he didn't need convincing.
"But I still don't really get it? The whole investment thing~"
Sakura peeked cautiously at Hinata's expression, still rattled by whatever Ino had told her the day before.
"Well~~ What it means is: put in money now, and every time the factory turns a profit, everyone who invested gets a cut—automatic dividends, no strings attached. The ultimate sit-back-and-get-paid lifestyle~~"
From behind Shino, Kakashi spoke up with his usual easy grin, helpfully translating for Sakura. The silver-haired Jōnin was first to put his hand forward: "I'll go first~ It's not a huge amount, but consider this ten million ryō my buy-in~"
Having lucked into this golden opportunity, Kakashi saw no reason not to expand his stake. Even ninja needed money to eat, and as a seasoned professional, keeping extra options open was never a bad move.
If it had been anyone else's venture, Kakashi would never have parted with his savings so easily. But he'd been embedded in this crew long enough to confirm one thing: its growth trajectory was exceptional. As an elite Jōnin with a keen eye, he wasn't about to let a prime investment pass him by.
"Whoa~ You're serious? Wait—how does a sketchy-looking guy like you even have that kind of money??"
Ino nearly jumped out of her skin. She was already enjoying a salary of several hundred thousand ryō per month under Hinata, but seeing someone casually drop a sum like that was still startling.
"Now, now~ I am an adult, you know~ A hardworking adult who's been saving up for years. Perfectly normal, right?"
Kakashi nudged Asuma beside him. "Right, Mr. Shopkeeper? We grown-ups finally stumble onto a profitable venture, and we'd be fools not to invest."
"Ahahaha~ Exactly. I'm putting in thirty million ryō—my small contribution."
Asuma's expression was relaxed and sunny. He slid his and Kurenai's combined investment forward. Hinata nodded. "Good. Your trust and investment are deeply appreciated. Now~ everyone else, let's get started. If we're a team, we share the highs and the lows."
"Aww~~ I was going to check out the cosmetics shop next time~"
Ino flipped open her little purse with a wince. Despite the grumbling, her hands didn't waver. Neither did anyone else's.
Just as Hinata had said—whether it was the clueless Naruto, or minds as sharp as Shikamaru and Shino—every one of them handed over nearly all of their accumulated savings without a second thought. They might not have known exactly what Hinata was planning, but they'd long since learned to follow her lead.
"Excellent~ Now, because the factory site will be in an external district, Sasuke-kun's contribution of the land itself earns him a direct equity stake. Everyone else receives shares proportional to their investment. As for equipment and skilled workers—I trust Mr. Fujimura wouldn't mind reaching out to some contacts? You're the printing expert, after all. You should know plenty of people in the publishing and production business."
Since she was positioning Asuma as her business partner, Hinata didn't mind letting him handle recruitment. At least that way there'd be fewer ANBU plants sneaking into the factory. Not that she particularly cared, but it was still annoying.
Asuma nodded, his tone serious. He might not have known that Hinata had already seen through his cover, but he instinctively understood how much his family connections mattered in this context.
"Leave it to me. I'll find people worth trusting."
Inside the Hokage's office.
"So the little white cat wants to go independent. Makes sense—ambitious kids never like staying under someone else's thumb for long."
The Third Hokage examined the factory proposal Asuma had brought him. His weathered face showed no surprise whatsoever. He exhaled a stream of pipe smoke, his gaze sharpening. "Looks like you've found something more important than the shinobi life, too."
"It was only a matter of time. I'm not the Hokage, after all."
Asuma looked at his aged father with genuine feeling. The man was ancient, frail—yet still chained to this office by the weight of the title.
"Heh. True enough. When you find someone you love and a life worth living, you hold on tight."
Nodding with satisfaction—clearly reading his son's intentions—the Third picked up his official seal and pressed it onto the proposal without hesitation. The stamp made the document enforceable within Konoha.
"Go ahead and recruit your own people. Bringing some tax revenue into the village isn't a bad thing. Is there anything else you need?"
Handing back the stamped document, the Third was clearly not inclined to obstruct this venture. If anything, he planned to have a word with his subordinates afterward—make sure they smoothed the way.
At the end of the day, this was about setting up his son and future daughter-in-law's livelihood. It was about securing milk money for the granddaughter who'd one day arrive. Even Hokage were fathers, and fathers wanted their children comfortable and safe. Beyond that, Fox Tales had become a cultural phenomenon—relocating its headquarters to Konoha would channel substantial tax revenue directly into the village. As its ruler, the Third was all in favor.
Even Danzō and the Village Elders would have no objections here.
And finally: at the very least, this guaranteed Konoha's residents first access to every new Fox Tales release.
"No. She plans to build the factory on the old Uchiha district grounds. I'll be recruiting experienced workers from within the village. If you'll excuse me."
Asuma bowed slightly and left the office. He had a great deal to do.
Every enterprise had its public face and its shadow side. Asuma's factory construction and worker recruitment constituted the visible half. The invisible half, naturally, was...
"My lady would like you two to visit the publisher in the Land of Fire and retrieve the Fox Tales rights agreement. Apparently, the publisher's been meddling too much, and the original author finds it rather tiresome. This small sum is your fee for the errand."
In the underground bureau, Sai placed a chest on the table and opened it—two million ryō in cash, plus two signed special-edition photo collections.
Smiling pleasantly at the artistic duo, Sai continued: "Oh, and~ the original author was thrilled by your support. She said meeting people who truly appreciate and pursue art was an honor. She absolutely loved the figures you made. These are two special-edition side-story collections with her personal autograph. She said she'd be overjoyed if you could create more figures based on the characters inside~"
"Ha~! I knew she was a woman of refined taste! Hmm~!"
"Shut up. She obviously appreciates my eternal aesthetic more~"
Sasori and Deidara bickered as usual, each snatching up a copy of the signed collection and flipping through it with barely contained excitement. The chest of money didn't warrant a second glance.
"Please, there's no need to argue. My lady says she'll be opening a dedicated figure factory soon. You can each mass-produce your own style of figure, and whichever sells better will prove whose art the public values more. Sound fair?"
Adjusting his bangs, Sai added softly: "Now then—when can we expect the rights agreement? The author has already decided to open her own publishing factory in the village, and she's just waiting on that document."
"Ha~! Child's play—she's really too polite! Please tell that author we'll have it back by tomorrow! Hmm!"
Deidara was entirely satisfied with this arrangement. The author not only appreciated their art but was considerate enough to pay a proper commission instead of leveraging personal connections. A client like that was a genuine pleasure to work with.
"Precisely. We won't disappoint her. You may relay that."
Sasori answered with equal confidence. For S-rank missing-nin of their caliber, this kind of task was trivial.
Sai sighed inwardly. So it was true—even S-rank shinobi could be led around by the nose under the right circumstances. But then again, he was in exactly the same boat.
"Then I'll take my leave. I look forward to good news."