Miyu enters the tea house, and is surprised to be the first to arrive. She takes her seat, and the attendant brings out a gentle white tea. While she waits, Miyu pulls a stack of folders from her bag and begins to flip through them.

  It’s taken her the few months she’s been in Konoha to get her hands on physical copies of her investment returns, and she’d picked up the various folders from the bank on her way to this meeting. The silk business she’s part-owner of has been doing particularly well in the capitals of Fire and Wind as she expected, but it’s popularity in Water takes her by surprise.

  She knows that there’s turmoil in that particular part of the world – at least there had been a few months ago when she last assessed the sales back in the capital. A girl or two of Rin’s had been from Water, and Miyu had heard of their strict class system that held the civilian population under the thumb of the rather infamous Fourth Mizukage.

  She absently wonders what’s gone on in Water, more specifically Mist, to warrant this sudden boom in buying – at least in silk. Humming to herself, she flicks through the documents until she gets to her land and agricultural investments, and is interested to see a spike in trade with Mist as well.

  Hm.

  Interesting.

  Most notedly, lumber exports from the land on the border of Fire and Rice are taken up in large by orders from Mist.

  Boats? Are they rebuilding?

  It’s recent – only within the past few weeks. She could ask Itachi or one of team seven if they’ve heard any talk from Mist the next time she sees them. Miyu skims the documents for now, eyes darting along pages filled with reports and ledgers. The apartment block she’d chosen to put money towards in Rain is now fully rented.

  It had been a bit of a gamble to buy there – in the civilian sector, at that – what with Hanzo’s reputation alongside the dreary weather the country was so named for being so constant. But it’s one that seems to be paying itself off rather sooner than she anticipated, with all of her apartments leased by civilians with good references.

  She huffs a little in displeasure as she comes to the finances of the tea house beside the Okiya – or, rather, beside where the Okiya had once been. The disastrous dinner at the Uchiha had notified her to the side effects of the new Fire Daimyo’s most recent taxes, but she didn’t think such a drastic change would happen so fast.

  The tax for anything considered ‘leisure’, which included tea houses, calligraphy, Okiya, clubs, bars, galleries, concert halls – almost everything in the flower and entertainment districts, has gone up by a ridiculous percentage.

  The teahouse has been forced to up its prices, losing clientele, while cutting staff in order to make ends meet. Wincing, she shuts that file and massages her temples. Not that she doesn’t care for the teahouse – she does – it’s just… always been something more important to Mother. Her investment had been more out of obligation than genuine interest in return, but she supposes it’s her problem now.

  The door opens, and Miyu looks up to see Ensui bowing briefly in apology.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he sounds sheepish, “two Hyuuga retainers and Inoichi himself tried to stall me on my way here.”

  Miyu cracks a smile at that, “I had no idea the Yamanaka were that interested in their offer.”

  “They’re probably not, no offence,” Ensui says as he sits on the pillow opposite her, “he probably wants to win your attention to piss of Shikaku.”

  She laughs a little at that, shaking her head.

  “If it was my intention to take any of these offers seriously, the Nara would be atop my preferred choices. I won’t forget those who treated me with respect before… well, this.”

  Ensui gives her a lazy grin, “Heard you met a certain someone at the gathering.”

  Miyu raises a brow, unimpressed, “Who could you possibly be talking about? I knew about six people there. Everyone else was new.”

  The Nara snorts, but says nothing as the attendant returns and takes his order. As soon as the door slides shut his sharp eyes are on her again.

  “You’ve got to tell me something,” he smirks, “the only direct eyewitness was Kakashi and he’s having a field day with his usual bullshit.”

  “Like?” Miyu can’t help the amused quirk to her own lips.

  “What happened, you ask?” Ensui says in an admittedly good imitation of Kakashi’s tone, “Ah, I don’t remember. A black cat walked across my path on the way to the event, and must have cursed me with memory loss.”

  She smiles at that, shaking her head, and Ensui continues, “Someone saw me with them? Why, that’s just untrue! I had a romantic rendezvous with a waiter in the third broom closet out in the hallway-”

  That makes her laugh, and Ensui only rolls his eyes indulgently as she does.

  “He’s got us all at each other’s necks trying to figure out what actually went down,” Ensui reveals, shaking his head.

  “It was nothing dramatic,” Miyu gives her non-answer with a cheery smile, “we parted ways as unlikely unhostile acquaintances.”

  “Ugh,” he lets his head hang forward, “you hang around him too much for your own good. Please just tell me who extended the olive branch first? I’ve got ten thousand ryo on it.”

  Miyu presses her lips together, considering.

  “That depends on what you define an olive branch. She… hmm.” She thinks about it for a moment. “She didn’t leave the door locked, if that’s what you mean. But I think I was probably the one that knocked.”

  Ensui’s mouth splits into a devilish grin, “Thanks. Today’s on me, my wallet will be a little heavier by the time I get back to the jounin lounge.”

  “Not a problem,” Miyu takes a sip of the tea, letting the mellow flavour roll smoothly over her tongue. “Although I will be asking for something in return.”

  Ensui cocks a brow as though he’d expected nothing less.

  “What’s going on with the Lightning captives? Has the Hokage and the council decided how they will be handling this incident?”

  Ensui sighs, taking a sip of his own tea.

  “The team sent here claim to have been working independently. Lightning has declared that they have nothing to do with the entire thing.”

  “A lie, obviously,” Miyu hums, brows furrowing only slightly, “and the clans are not pleased with this outcome, I assume?”

  “Definitely not,” Ensui shakes his head, “I’ve never seen the Uchiha and Hyuuga so strongly in agreeance with one another. There’s been much talk of hypotheticals and what-ifs – there’s no doubt Konoha would be starting a war right about now if one of the children had been taken.”

  Miyu lets her gaze fall to the table top between them.

  “I understand,” she says softly, “but are there not more important things to be concerned with right now, over marriage contracts and thanks?”

  Ensui props an elbow on the table, resting his cheek on his fist.

  “Civilian-ninja relations have been strained at best for most of Konoha’s history,” he tells her conversationally, “this is them trying to extend their sincere gratitude in the only way they think is meaningful.”

  Miyu nods, and then looks up to meet his eye, “The Hyuuga and Uchiha – they… do not get along, usually?”

  Ensui snorts at that as the attendant sets a plate of mochi between them with a polite bow.

  “That’s an understatement. I’m not surprised that the Hyuuga retainers tried to stop me from coming here, but… hmm.” He narrows his eyes at her consideringly. “What did the Uchiha offer you?”

  My feels a flush beginning high on her cheeks, “A… position as a governess.”

  “Ah,” Ensui jerks his chin as though that’s all the information he needed, “and I’m assuming the Hyuuga put forward a member of their branch family?”

  Miyu only blinks at this.

  “Branch family?” she says after a moment’s silence. “They put forward the nephew to the clan head.”

  “Hah,” Ensui sounds faintly amused, “of course they did. Neji is the best way of showing up the Uchiha without losing too much.”

  Miyu waits patiently for an explanation.

  “The branch family – that is, those born outside of the main family – are tasked with the protection of the clan, while the main family controls it. The branch family members are branded in order to… protect the secrets of the clan and their bloodline limit.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Miyu can’t help the way her lips twitch downwards at that.

  “They are also typically contracted to reproduce and have at least one offspring with another member of their clan, though in recent years this has modernised some and now no longer requires marriage or even intimacy between Hyuuga parents.”

  That is a surprise, if a sad one.

  “Forgive me for my bluntness,” she murmurs, “that sounds… oppressive.”

  “You can say that again,” he grunts, and she’s glad they share a stance on this, at least.

  “So Neji will most likely have no choice but to pursue me in some way,” she thinks about it for a moment, considering. “And the Hyuuga put the Uchiha on show by offering an eligible bachelor, probably already in high demand.”

  Ensui takes a bite from the mochi and Miyu reaches out for one and follows suit.

  “Thank you for the information,” she says around a sip of tea. “Izumi-san is taking me out for a drink some time next week.”

  Ensui almost chokes on his next mochi. “She what?”

  “I invited her for tea, initially,” Miyu reveals, hiding her smile behind her cup again, “but she suggested something a little stronger.”

  “Oh, you absolute fiend, the gossips are about to lose their minds-”

  .

  Miyu eyes the board before her intently, focusing hard on outmanoeuvring – well, herself.

  She’s peripherally aware that Itachi is making lunch in the kitchen, while Kakashi sits at the island bench and has what she assumes is another copy of his orange-covered book open before him.

  The man is murmuring to himself in his smooth, deep voice – gods, that catches her attention – and she tunes back into reality for long enough to hear Itachi speak up softy.

  “What are you reading? That’s not Icha Icha, I burnt your last copy and made sure there were none left in your apartment.”

  “Itachi, you wound me. I always have backup copies.”

  “Kakashi-”

  “But you’re right. I’m not reading - I’m writing.”

  Miyu pretends to be absorbed with the game before her, but her ears are definitely perked.

  “What.” Itachi’s tone is flat.

  Kakashi clears his throat, and then starts to read in a deeply emphatic voice.

  “Miku gazed into Hitachi’s dark orbs, her chest heaving with desire-”

  “What the-”

  Kakashi continues, unfazed at Itachi’s outburst.

  “Hitachi had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and certainly never gotten his hands on one. He’d never been good with the ladies, and his inexperience had always been something he tried desperately to hide-”

  Miyu chokes on her next breath as laughter fights to bubble to the surface, and she swivels from her place on the floor to lean around the couch and see this happening with her own eyes.

  “I’ll kill you,” Itachi’s voice is flat, deadly. He’s still holding the knife he had been using to finely dice vegetables.

  “I’ve decided to name it ‘Romance among the leaves’.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “I’m going to start my sales small – probably just publishing within the village. But I have big plans. This is going to make me rich.”

  “I’m going to kill you-”

  He stops himself short as Miyu loses her battle with her laughter, toppling half to the floor as she watches Itachi, frozen in the act of lunging for an unbothered Kakashi. She manages to get to her feet, gracelessly stumbling until she’s leaning over the silver-haired jounin’s arm.

  He kindly flips the notebook open to what appears to be the first page.

  She takes a few deep breaths to compose herself before she begins to read.

  “Miku sighed, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she once again tried to focus on her scroll. It tickled at the back of her neck, the fine hairs slipping from her low, elegant bun.”

  Itachi is watching her with a dead look in his eyes, and she swears she can see Kakashi mouthing the words himself as she speaks them.

  “‘The purpose of shogi is not to play the game, but to play the opponent’ – she read for the third time, her dark eyes skimming the text, ignoring the man sat across from her.”

  Miyu takes another few breaths in an attempt to control the urge to laugh hysterically again.

  “The shinobi sharpened his blade again, the shink of whetstone meeting metal echoing in the quiet forest, and she refused to look up. She knew if she did, she’d meet his gaze, and she refused to let him think he was a distraction. Even if he was.”

  She looks to Kakashi then, a little awed. His writing is… rather… good?

  “The man’s name was Hitachi,” her voice wavers around the bastardisation of Itachi’s name, but she pushes on, “and he was one of the few shinobi assigned to guard her on her journey. And, frustratingly, that was all she knew of him.”

  Itachi is still staring, dead eyed, at her. She brushes her loose hair out of her face, hand trembling with the effort it’s taking to keep her composure.

  Kakashi is murmuring the words with her now, and she knows she won’t hold on to it for much longer.

  “He sharpened his blade once more, and she mentally corrected herself. She also knew that he was annoying-” her voice breaks at this and she takes a moment, to breathe sharply through her nose so she doesn’t completely lose it.

  “And handsome, a smaller, traitorous part of her mind remarked,” Kakashi continues without her, his rendition much more dramatic, “Her eyes narrowed. ‘In order to succeed in the game of shogi, you must understand that your opponent is also trying to play you.”

  Miyu is helpless to her laughter now, Kakashi’s arm the only thing keeping her upright as she leans on him, legs weak.

  “Oh gods,” she gasps through what she realises are tears, “you’re actually writing a rip-off book of our shitty love life, oh my gods-”

  “Rip-off?” Kakashi gasps at the same time Itachi repeats, “Shitty?”

  The balcony door opens with a loud bang.

  “Kakashi-sensei, if you try and dodge me for your physical one more time, I swear-”

  At the sound of Sakura’s voice, Kakashi neatly removes himself from Miyu’s hold, snaps his book shut, and with a small salute to Itachi, disappears in a puff of smoke.

  Sakura’s frustrated yell is the only sound aside from Miyu’s valiant attempts to catch her breath and compose herself around a few stray bubbles of laughter.

  The balcony door slams shut, and then it’s just Itachi and Miyu, on either side of the island bench.

  “Hitachi,” he murmurs, brows furrowed slightly, “really?”

  “He named me Miku,” Miyu’s voice wavers, but she doesn’t outright dissolve into giggles, so she supposes that’s a win.

  Itachi sighs, shaking his head as he returns to prepping lunch.

  Miyu sits at the island bench, sobering a little as she decides that now’s a good time as any to bring up the inevitable.

  “I met Izumi,” she states plainly, because Itachi is one of the only people she’s comfortable being blunt around.

  He doesn’t so much as pause from where he’s dicing carrots.

  “I know.”

  Miyu tries not to let that annoy her.

  “I… have been offered marriage contracts from various clans,” she says next, a little more hesitant.

  Itachi meets her eyes for this one.

  “I know.”

  At first, she’s relieved. She won’t have to explain the situation – but then – then she’s annoyed.

  “What do you think I should do?” she asks, because she’d rather know her opponent’s stance before she launches an attack.

  Itachi looks back down to the chopping board, resuming his dicing.

  “The clans will take insult if you do not make a decision within the next few weeks,” he says, factual, “and I… well, I think you should be considering it. The Nara seem like the best choice, but I know the Yamanaka or the Akimichi would suit you well. A large portion of their clansmen are civilian, so they’re more likely to support you in your endeavours.”

  He says it calmly, coolly, like he’s not talking about someone he – cares about? Loves? – being married off to a different man.

  “Are you-” she cuts herself off, taking a deep breath. She’s angry, now, and she doesn’t want to show it. “And you are okay with this?”

  He shrugs, and Miyu wants so badly to scowl, but she doesn’t.

  “I’ve – Miyu, I cannot marry you. I cannot offer you political protection. But other clans – they can, and they will, and-”

  “And us?” her voice is deadly calm, pitched pleasantly. His shoulders stiffen anyway.

  “If we must stop… this,” he gestures between them with the knife, “then we must.”

  Fury burns cold and sharp in her gut, and she’s glad for all the practice she’s had at facing an opponent without emotion as her face keeps its calm, unaffected expression.

  “Why are you so obsessed with your duty?” her tone is sharp, cool, like the carefully polished metal of a blade, erring ever-closer to his skin.

  He meets her gaze impassively, and it burns at her to not find any emotion there.

  “What do you want, Itachi?” though her inflection is steady, her voice raises slightly in volume, and she catches the way he angles away from her, if only slightly.

  “I want you safe,” he says evenly, “I want you happy.”

  “And you think marrying into a clan will make me happy?” she’s furious, hands trembling with the need to show it.

  “Fuck the clans, and fuck their offers,” it’s jarring, that her tone is so steady even as her words tear from her with barely-there control, “I want to play shogi, I want to be safe in this village, I want to come home to you, and I shouldn’t need the protection of any clan to do that.”

  He’s standing very, very still, dark eyes locked on her.

  “I can’t stand that you make decisions that involve me without my input,” with that out in the open, she can feel months of frustration tearing to the surface, “I hate that once you decide on something you think is best, you stick to it without regard for anything else.”

  Itachi’s adam’s apple bops, and she refuses to let her gaze be drawn to it.

  “Talk to me,” she demands, “tell me what you’re doing, and just – stop thinking you need to protect me from everything and anything.”

  Miyu has dealt with worse things that a rumour mill. She thinks, maybe part of his actions can be credited to the fact that he doesn’t know, but gods –

  “I’m not going to break,” she tells him, “I do just fine under pressure. But I’ve gone into situations blind, because you think keeping secrets will protect me.”

  She sighs, propping her elbows on the table and resting her face in her hands.

  “I trust you,” she says with steely certainty, “all I’m asking is that you offer me the same courtesy.”

  Itachi is still maddeningly silent. He turns his back to her as he sweeps the carrots into the pot along with the other vegetables, and when he turns back to her he seems to have gathered himself somewhat.

  “I apologise for my actions,” he begins, and she’s relieved to see a little sheepishness seep into his expression, “and… I will try to be more open with you.”

  Miyu tilts her head as she waits for him to go on.

  “However… I don’t think these offers are a bad thing.” He washes the dishes as he continues, and she lets him. He seems to be struggling with this, at least a little.

  “You’re clever. Intuitive. Trustworthy, and strong – even though the thought of you in a dangerous situation makes me feel… ill… I know that you’ll do everything in your power to be alright.”

  She resolutely refuses to blush.

  “But Miyu – you are a civilian. I can protect you when I’m around, and our friends will do the same – but outside of that-”

  “I’m not in danger,” she interrupts, hopping off the stool and making her way around the island to him, “although I understand where you’re coming from. But… marriage into a clan won’t make me happy, Itachi.”

  He dries his hands as he turns to face her.

  “I’m – I’ve been trying hard,” she swallows nervously, “to find other hobbies, and make acquaintances here. To have a life that I can be content with. But it all-”

  She glances briefly to the ground between them, flushing.

  “It all falls flat without you.”

  She wonders if he can hear the way her throat is tightening, feel the tremble of her hands as she hides them in her home yukata.

  “Miyu.”

  When she meets his eyes, it feels like her breath is being slowly drawn away. His dark eyes are warm, honest. He reaches out a hand and brushes her hair from her cheek, letting his fingers linger at her jaw.

  “I would leave my clan, leave this life, if it meant that we…” he trails off, shifting closer. “But… my brother. It shouldn’t be his burden to bear because I couldn’t-”

  “You silly, selfless man,” she shakes her head, even as she leans into his touch. “Now help me figure out how to politely decline these offers without causing civil unrest.”

  He leans down, tugging her close, until their noses are just barely touching.

  “And stop hiding Chikako from me,” she murmurs, shivering at the feel of his breath fanning across her cheek.

  His lips meet hers then, and she decides to demand to see his summons soon – just not while he’s kissing her like this.