— Well, so? Thirty million! And that's the most profitable offer for you! — the master-artificer innocently fluttered his eyes, leaning against the counter on which lay what remained of Samehada.
— You're playing with fire, craftsman, — Kakuzu growled. The mercenary was starting to boil over and was holding himself back from killing the master by some miracle. — This is a repair, not a new job.
— Oh, you are so right, shinobi-san! — the old man exclaimed, throwing his hands up. — But what can I do? There's hardly any living space left on your porcupine. There's a lo-o-o-t of work here. Very much work. I'll have to sit here for three days straight, and my health isn't what it used to be, and what do you expect me to do, kick the bucket here for next to nothing?
Kakuzu clenched his fists. He was radiating yaki, but his interlocutor didn't seem to notice.
The mercenary had been haggling with this… this creature (Kakuzu's tongue wouldn't turn to call this monster a human) for only a couple of minutes. However, the shinobi had the impression that they had been haggling for an hour already.
The master-artificer turned out to be a sprightly little man slightly over fifty, with sparse mustaches and cunning, darting eyes. His name was Mosagu-san. The Akatsuki had been tasked with negotiating with him about repairing Samehada. After the group of mercenaries arrived in Takumi, the treasurer, as the most financially practical, was immediately sent for negotiations. But the experienced shinobi couldn't even imagine that instead of a stately, proud weaponsmith, he would find a short, plump, sly merchant, and a merchant to the bone.
— Well, and what is your positive answer? — the master inquired with the same innocence. And Kakuzu was barely holding back from killing this craftsman. Well, or at least making a mess in his shop where they were conducting the deal.
— Twenty, and not a ryō more, — the mercenary hissed through his teeth, examining the sai, katanas, and naginatas on the walls. In his fantasies, Kakuzu repeatedly pierced the craftsman with cold weapons.
— You're cutting me without a kunai, shinobi-san, — the old man wailed, adjusting a small cap on his balding head. — I need to feed my family, my grandchildren are starving… Forty! And not a ryō less.
Kakuzu grunted. He had never encountered such an insolent person before. Usually, sellers or people providing services make contact and bargain as they should, stating one price and giving the buyer the opportunity to lower it. But this monster, with each offer, on the contrary, raised the price. They started with ten million ryō, and as a result of the arguments, they ended up at forty.
"Bastard!.." mentally Kakuzu had already quartered Master Mosagu. "You just understand that we desperately need your services, so you're mocking us!"
A cunning squint with a barely noticeable smirk occasionally flashed across the master's face. Kakuzu knew perfectly well that the old man had no relatives, and certainly no family or grandchildren. There was nothing to pressure him with. Resolving the situation by force was also not an option, because this craftsman was useful and had to do the job properly, not under duress, doing some nasty trick at the end. Moreover, it was unknown how many more times they would have to turn to him in the future.
"Maybe contact Uchiha?" flashed through Kakuzu's mind.
Uchiha and Kisame had arrived in the Land of Rivers together with Hidan and Kakuzu. After Kakuzu went to Takumi, Itachi and his partner left to search for a place for an additional Akatsuki base and hideout. But Itachi could be called to more easily persuade the master. With Uchiha's Sharingan, everything would be much simpler, and most importantly, there would be no need to spend the organization's resources. After all, despite the "confiscation" of several billion ryō from the deceased Gato, Kakuzu, out of habit, couldn't afford to spend money freely.
"No, that won't work..."
The treasurer dismissed the unnecessary thoughts. Kakuzu wasn't going to humiliate himself before his allies and ask Itachi for help. No way. He had been entrusted with getting Samehada repaired, and he had to do it himself, without outside assistance.
Closing his eyes for a few moments, the Akatsuki treasurer calmed down. Slowly exhaling, he nodded decisively:
— Alright, I agree.
— Wonderful, then, — the craftsman grinned, immediately putting Samehada under the counter. — It's good that we understood each other. By the way, when do you need the sword by?
Kakuzu raised an eyebrow. The master seemed to have recently said that it would take him three days to repair one of the Great Swords.
"Apparently, he lied to me. And there's not as much work as he said."
— I need the sword… yesterday, — he croaked and turned to leave, but Mosagu-san called out to him.
— Oh, where are you going, esteemed sir? The deposit is one-third of the total order cost.
Kakuzu turned sharply and narrowed his eyes dangerously:
— You'll get all the money after the work is done. If it suits us.
— You wound me, shinobi-san, — the master said with feigned offense, dramatically waving his hands, — but I will do everything in the best possible way. And although I can't do it "by yesterday," you can come tomorrow evening, after six.
The mercenary snorted and headed for the exit. In the doorway, the craftsman's voice caught up with him:
— By the way, there's an extra five million for the rush…
***
— This is the dumbest and most boring mission, dattebayo, — Naruto grumbled discontentedly, looking at the identical houses of Takumi as they walked.
Team Seven had delivered a package to a client in the village of artisans, located in the Land of Rivers, and now the genin and their sensei could return home. Their mission was complete.
— Naruto-baka! — Sakura exclaimed. — Kakashi-sensei did say that this assignment was C-rank. And we're unlikely to encounter any enemy shinobi here.
— Yeah, I know, — the blond rolled his eyes. — But man, I'd rather have stayed in the village and trained properly! I need to prepare for my sparring match with the master.
Kakashi, who was walking slowly behind the genin at this time, grunted vaguely.
— You think Kakashi-sensei would agree to spar with you? — Sakura raised an eyebrow skeptically.
Hatake, while no one was looking, narrowed his eye contentedly and nodded imperceptibly, as if agreeing with the pink-haired girl.
— Well, I'm not talking about the one-eyed sensei, — Uzumaki grinned, scratching his nose. — I'm talking about my personal teacher – Master Saitama!
At this name, Kakashi suddenly stumbled on flat ground and stopped.
— Um… sensei, are you alright? — Haruno said, turning to the jonin-sensei, the others also stopped walking and stared at Hatake in bewilderment. He, frozen in surprise, widened his eye. The jonin's eyelid twitched, and his face turned white, matching his hair.
The man asked quietly:
— N-Naruto, you have a personal teacher? And his name is Saitama?
— Yep, — the blond drawled smugly, scratching the top of his head. — Master Saitama is the strongest of all. Someday I'll be as strong as him.
Kakashi's gaze glazed over. It was as if he had remembered something. Shaking his head, he walked on stiff legs, like a puppet, towards the exit of the artisans' village.
— What's wrong with him? — Sakura whispered.
— Beats me, — Naruto shrugged.
Uchiha, looking at Hatake's receding figure, muttered quietly:
— I think you broke the jonin, Naruto.
Uzumaki didn't answer. The genin's stomach rumbled, and the blond looked at the sign of the nearest eatery.
— I'm hungry, — another drawn-out trill from his stomach supplemented this sacred pronouncement of the genin.
Haruno was about to object to the blond's voracity, since he had eaten a few hours ago, but…
— I second that, — Sasuke said quietly, forgetting about his sensei and taking a step towards the diner.
Sakura sighed loudly, casting an adoring glance at the brunette, then reluctantly called out to the jonin:
— Kakashi-sensei!.. Hey! Kakashi-sensei! Will you just stop already!!
***
In recent weeks, the Copy Ninja had thrown himself headfirst into training: nin-, tai-, gen… He trained if not in the style of the Power of Youth, then somewhere very close.
The impetus for this was the meeting with the bald shinobi that night in the forest. The feeling of helplessness and the inevitability of the approaching blow often haunted Kakashi in nightmares. When this happened, he could jump out of bed in the middle of the night, turn on the light, and start doing push-ups or squats. Then the image of the mighty bald man would recede for a while, although it was impossible to completely banish it from his mind.
The jonin especially remembered Saitama's bored and indifferent face, both during the entire fight in general and during that lazy slap in particular. The bald shinobi was simply incredibly strong. And Hatake, who had almost never lost in fights, decided to put aside his melancholy over his fallen comrades, take a break from reading Jiraiya-sama's books for a while, and become stronger.
"I've become too accustomed to relying on the Sharingan in difficult situations. And I've also stopped improving on the path of a shinobi," Kakashi mused once, while still in his hospital bed. "After all, Minato-sensei said that there is no upper limit to a ninja's strength, and we ourselves set our limitations..."
Plus, during the bell test, he realized: you should never underestimate your opponent, no matter how good a fighter you are. Naruto had reminded him of this quite well then...
Therefore, lately, Hatake had constantly been sending a clone on the genin's D-rank missions, while he himself was engaged in grueling training. Sparring sessions with Tenzo, when the latter was in Konoha, and with the use of almost all techniques except the Sharingan's jutsu. Illusory battles with Kurenai. Sword sparring with familiar ANBU instructors. He would have gladly accepted a taijutsu fight with Might Guy, but the latter was on a long mission with his team of genin. And, of course, the Copy Ninja didn't refuse physical exercises.
In order to feel a good load on his muscles, Kakashi even bought special weights with fuin seals to adjust the weight. He not only trained in them, but also engaged in everyday routines, trying to look as casual as possible.
Kakashi only took off the weights before going to bed. Every cell in his body ached from such abuse as never before. But Hatake stoically endured such inconveniences, mentally praising Might Guy, who trains similarly all the time.
Also, in a couple of weeks, the jonin managed to create several new techniques and recall a dozen that he had copied with the Sharingan but had not used before.
After all, Kakashi was not considered a genius for nothing, and in this short period, his combat capability had increased significantly. Especially considering the acquisition of a katana made of chakra-conducting steel. And the use of the blade with Raiton techniques and new combinations of water and lightning jutsu made Kakashi a truly formidable opponent even for shinobi of Kage level.
Hatake wasn't going to stop there, but Hiruzen considered it necessary to give Team Seven a mission outside of Konoha. Kakashi would have been happy to stay, but you can't go against the Kage's orders, so the jonin, resigned to his fate as a babysitter, went with his students on an easy mission in the Land of Rivers so that the genin could see the world…
Since Hatake had long been acquainted with the personal files of his charges, the reaction to the assignment from Haruno and Uchiha was predictable. Sakura actively inquired about the details of the mission and asked many questions about the Land of Rivers and the village of artisans they were heading to; Kakashi, overcoming his laziness, had to share information with her. Sasuke, after his release from the hospital, was just as gloomy and silent, occasionally casting strange glances at Uzumaki. But Naruto, for some reason, complained of boredom, not at all eager to go anywhere, which didn't fit with his hyperactivity at all. Hatake inwardly supported his student completely, but for show, he reprimanded him a couple of times.
Out of the corner of his eye, the man noticed how Uzumaki, closing the formation, sent out dozens of clones around every half hour.
"Good job, Naruto," he mentally praised the genin, "reconnaissance is very important on missions. But why so many clones?"
However, aloud, the jonin didn't ask anything. It soon turned out that Naruto wasn't sending clones for reconnaissance at all, but leaving them to train. When the team made a stop, Uzumaki, with the help of Fūton techniques (when did he even have time to learn them?), cut thick logs, went a little away from their camp, and began training in the style of the Green Beasts.
Kakashi's eyelid twitched at such a sight, and he quietly whispered, "Kai," forming the corresponding seal. However, Naruto, squatting on one leg with two logs on his shoulders, didn't disappear anywhere.
"Well, at least he's not in a green jumpsuit and without a 'pot' on his head," Hatake thought…
Overall, the mission was uneventful. They didn't even encounter any bandits. After delivering the package to the addressee, Team Seven was already about to return when it turned out from the genin's conversation that Naruto had a personal sensei. Moreover, the sensei turned out to be Kakashi's worst nightmare – a bald shinobi named Saitama!
As soon as the jonin heard this name, he immediately remembered the last dream he had had shortly before leaving the Village.
...Over night-time Konoha, right above the Hokage faces, a huge shadow grows. No, it's not a shadow!..
In the moonlight, a strange dark silhouette turns out to be a huge bald head. The creature's face only outwardly resembles a human one; it soon becomes clear that it is a terrifying monster. Its eyes burn with an otherworldly light, the bald head, hanging over the city, casts reflections from the moonlight... it covers half the sky. And a voice with a terrifying rumbling bass says:
— This is my favorite shirt... You will pay for this, red-eye… You will all pay.
After that, a huge palm crashes down on Konoha, sweeping away the village and everything in its path. Absolutely everything!
The city is wiped off the face of the earth, the energy from the impact spreads across the Land of Fire and other Elemental Nations, destroying living and non-living things. The land is annihilated into dust, the seas and oceans evaporate, and the whole world comes to an end...
— Kakashi-sensei, what will you have? — Sakura's voice pulled Kakashi out of his nightmare memories.
Kakashi looked around. He found himself in some kind of diner. Recalling the recent events that had occurred in the real world, he realized that he was with his genin in one of Takumi's eateries. Haruno had dragged him here by the hand while he was in a daze.
— One-Eyed Sensei, are you alright? — Naruto asked in a worried tone. — You're pale. You look like you've lost your face.
— Pfft… what face? He's wearing a mask, — Uchiha muttered under his breath, glancing at the visitors. His gaze somehow caught on a motley group of four shinobi with Takumi protectors, who had taken a table in the far corner.
Kakashi also noticed the ninja, and their faces seemed vaguely familiar to the jonin. He seemed to have seen them in a recent update of the Bingo Book.
— I'm fine, — Kakashi straightened up on his stool and showed the genin his eye-smile. — Just remembered something... I'll have miso soup with eggplant…
Before Sakura could place an order, the door of the establishment swung open abruptly, and a young man in a black cloak with red clouds entered the room with a leisurely gait. The stranger's distinguishing features were ash-blonde hair slicked back and crimson eyes that lazily surveyed the surroundings. The blade of a shortened naginata protruded from his back, and a crossed-out Yugakure protector was visible on his neck.
— Hidan, don't do this, Hidan, don't do that, — the guy muttered discontentedly. — Why the hell did we even come to this damn hole if we can't kill anyone? And where the hell is that bastard?…
Hatake tensed. On official missions, he always concealed his chakra to the minimum emitted by an average chūnin. Only a few people knew the jonin's face. Therefore, the stranger didn't pay any attention to him. However, a serious threat emanated from the strange missing-nin, and Kakashi's hand imperceptibly lowered to the katana in its scabbard, fastened to his belt. The position for attack was ideal, so if the shinobi suddenly wanted to cause trouble, Hatake could easily demonstrate the swordsmanship skills he had restored in recent weeks.
— What did you say about our village? I didn't hear you? — came the insidious voice of one of the Takumi ninja that Sasuke had noticed.
The speaker was a lanky guy with long brown hair tied in a thick ponytail. A thin smile was frozen on his face.
The missing-nin narrowed his eyes at this phrase and, turning sharply, stared at the four ninja from Takumi.
— Oh… a beanpole, — Hidan's eyebrows shot up. — I'll repeat myself for those who are fucking deaf...
The four shinobi from Takumi exchanged glances. The lanky one frowned, and the Yugakure missing-nin drawled:
— I said that…
The guy paused for a few seconds, then scratched his chin and asked himself:
— Shit, what was I just talking about?…
Kakashi looked at his students. He wanted to gesture for them to quietly leave the premises before a scuffle broke out, but then he remembered that he hadn't taught them anything like that at all. "Damn it. Personal training is good, but I'll need to work with the genin..."
— I think you said our village is… a fucking hole, — the boy with blue hair replied.
— Exactly! — the ash-blonde exclaimed joyfully. — And you have a good memory, don't you? You little shit!
The four slowly rose from their seats. They were clad in purple cloaks. Swords were visible among their weapons. The girl even had two.
— You don't seem to know who you've gotten involved with, dear? — the kunoichi sang sweetly, adjusting a yellow strand that had escaped her hairstyle. She was the only girl in this group of four.
— Ooh-ooh-ooh… what a babe, — Hidan clicked his tongue. — Don't you want to believe in our lord, Jashin-sama? I rarely offer this to anyone, you'll be the first after High Priest Hidan, that is me...
"Bijuu! This is a Jashinist. I thought they were all wiped out. We need to get the kids out of here urgently..."
Kakashi imperceptibly waved his hand towards the exit. Unfortunately, only Sakura noticed his gesture. The boys were too engrossed in the spectacle unfolding in the diner.
— We are the Celestial Four, — boomed a healthy-looking burly man with a beard. He wore strange armor, the front of his breastplate resembling a lion's head.
— Celestial-shmestial… doesn't fucking matter. I'm not talking to you, overgrown baboon!
— You're either very brave to provoke us to fight, or an idiot, — the girl smirked maliciously. — We are the strongest shinobi in our village. And no, I'm not joining any sect…
— Enough talk, Kujaku, — said the lanky one. — It's obvious the guy's an idiot. But that doesn't give him the right to treat us like this. He must die for such insults.
— A-ha-ha-hah, — the missing-nin laughed insanely. — Godless! Fucking atheists! Ha-ha-ha. I must die?… Bitch, you're fucking hilarious! Ahah… So funny, damn it!
Having finished laughing, the one who called himself Hidan wiped an invisible tear and became serious:
— Well then. Excellent. You will know pain and be sacrificed to Jashin.
Hidan, baring his teeth maliciously, abruptly drew his naginata. The Takumi shinobi bared their weapons in response. The missing-nin sprang from his spot, but suddenly froze halfway.
— Damn it, Kakuzu! What the fuck?
The guy's hands were bound by black tentacles. If you looked closely, you could see that the tentacles were not uniform, but seemed to consist of threads.
— I told you not to start any fights within the city limits, — a hoarse voice was heard. — We're here on business. And we can't afford to spoil relations with the locals yet.
Behind the young missing-nin appeared a man in the same black cloak with scarlet clouds. True, his face was hidden by a mask, like Kakashi's, and his head was covered by a gray hood.
— I got it, damn it. Let me go!
The tentacles retracted into Kakuzu's sleeves. And Hidan, spitting angrily, hung his weapon back on his back.
— Not so fast, boys, — sang the kunoichi from the Celestial Four. — You were rude to us, so you'll have to pay for your words.
The masked man grimly surveyed the girl, then her teammates. They noticeably flinched under his gaze.
— Hmm… you recently appeared in the Bingo Book. Your leader is worth fifteen million, and the rest are worth ten each.
— You're at it again! — Hidan burst into a shout. — Always thinking about money. Nothing sacred!
— Shut up!
Kakuzu pondered, then added:
— If you have any complaints against us or want my partner's blood – we'll be waiting for you at Mount Tokuzo, a kilometer from your village.
— Hidan, we're leaving, — he tossed to his teammate.
The man turned and walked confidently towards the exit. The young missing-nin, cursing, trudged after him.
— My name is Hoki. And we – the shinobi of the Celestial Four – will come to fight! In an hour! — the lanky one stated firmly, grinning expectantly. The other members of the team also stretched their lips into predatory grins.
— Excellent, — Kakuzu muttered quietly, without turning around. — You'll just compensate for the cost of repairing the sword…
***
Itachi was deep in thought. A week and a half had passed since the Akatsuki quartet had clashed with Saitama, but Uchiha still hadn't recovered from that battle. He perfectly remembered the unbridled power that the bald god had demonstrated, remembered the ease with which he had defeated one missing-nin after another, and remembered the bloodlust, the fear that had bound Uchiha's soul like steel shackles.
And he also remembered the conversation that followed, as if it were happening now...
…Saitama and Itachi were sitting in a small but cozy diner. The interior was very ordinary: several tables with chairs, a high counter behind which a wiry old man – the owner of the establishment – was visible, and a couple of wooden beams supporting the roof vault.
While their order was being prepared, the bald man stared blankly at the ceiling, sprawled out on his chair. Terrible sounds emanated from his stomach from time to time, frightening the few visitors, but Saitama didn't seem particularly bothered by it.
Uchiha silently observed his vis-à-vis. He looked dejected and outwardly resembled some kind of ragamuffin: his shirt was in tatters, his shorts were singed, and there were traces of soot on his skin in places; only his protector remained relatively intact. You wouldn't say by his appearance that he was a being probably many times stronger than the most powerful shinobi in the world.
The brunette didn't know how to behave with this monster pretending to be an ordinary person, so he decided to maintain the mask of cold indifference that had firmly grown to him over the years of his time in ANBU, and then in the Akatsuki.
— Your order, — a young, smiling girl of about fourteen approached them. Two bowls of rice with gravy and two plates of steaks for Saitama were quickly placed on the table. Small plates of cabbage and dango for Itachi were also set out.
The girl left, and the bald shinobi asked:
— What, you don't eat meat or something?
Uchiha shook his head. Saitama paused for a couple of seconds, then just shrugged. In the next moment, the guy pounced on the food as if he hadn't eaten for at least a week.
Itachi had just brought his chopsticks to his mouth when one of the bowls of rice and one steak were finished off by the bald man. The mask of indifference cracked, and Uchiha raised an eyebrow in surprise. Before he could even chew his cabbage, the remaining food was swept away, and the bowls were licked almost clean.
— Oh, by the way, itadakimasu, — Saitama patted his stomach contentedly. After which, he beckoned the young waitress over with his hand.
— Listen, miss, do you have fries?
— Uh-uh-uh… excuse me, — the girl stammered, looking down shyly. — But we don't have that…
— Geez, what kind of people are these, — Saitama grumbled. — Can you imagine, Hitachi, they don't have fries?
— I'm Itachi, — Uchiha corrected automatically.
— Yeah, that's what I said, — the bald man nodded, picking at his ear. — Alright, I'll have the same as before, only twice as much, and some salads too, — he addressed the girl. She smiled and walked away.
While Saitama's next order was being prepared, Itachi was dealing with his cabbage. Under the bald man's intense gaze, he felt uneasy, but he kept a straight face and didn't even choke once.
— Alright, bunny, — Saitama chuckled. — Talk, what did you guys dig up on me?
Putting down his plate, Itachi leaned on the table and began to tell everything he knew about this assassination mission. Uchiha didn't hold anything back or, even more so, lie; he laid everything out as it was. He probably only kept silent about the identity of the client. The bald man didn't need to know that. After all, Itachi didn't want to expose the Head of the Root THAT much.
— …And that's how we met you, Saitama-sama…
— Wait, wait, — the bald man waved his hand. — I didn't quite hear. How much were they offering for my head?
— Forty-five million, — Itachi repeated the sum once more.
Saitama's eyebrows crawled up, then down, then formed a little house. Out of the entire story, the bald man, for some reason, only paid special attention to the money for the mission.
— That's… — the shinobi scratched his cheek thoughtfully. — Man, that's the cost of a TV, — he whispered barely audibly. — And the biggest and coolest one… like in the Daimyo's palace.
Uchiha pretended not to hear anything and reached for a dango stick.
— Hmm… — Saitama straightened up on his chair, folding his arms across his chest. — And how much were they offering for me alive?
— There was no such condition in the contract, — Uchiha replied. — The client clearly stated that he wished to see your corpse.
— And who could I have offended so much? — Saitama wondered. However, Itachi left his question unanswered.
— Listen, — the bald man drawled with a grin, — maybe you could deliver me alive to your client?
The dango went down the wrong way, and Uchiha coughed, almost choking. He hadn't expected this. After drinking some water, the missing-nin suppressed his coughs.
— Khe… why? And how?
— Well, what do you mean why? — Saitama was astonished. — You deliver me to the client and don't fail the mission. I'll go with you voluntarily and get the money, say… half of your order amount. Yeah, I'm not greedy, thirty million ryō will be enough for me…
Uchiha wanted to remind him that thirty was not half, but two-thirds of the reward, but, seeing the expectant gleam in Saitama's eyes, he wisely decided to remain silent.
— I'll also have a chat with this scoundrel, — Saitama continued to dream. — I'll find out what he wants from me and whether we can resolve the conflict peacefully.
Itachi once again put on a detached expression and sipped water from his glass.
— I'm sorry, Saitama-sama. But that's impossible.
Itachi wasn't going to turn Saitama against Danzo or Konoha. His village simply wouldn't survive such an enemy. And the Head of the Root was unlikely to back down from his goals, which meant there would be no negotiations.
After thinking it over carefully, Uchiha came to the conclusion that it would be better for him to keep silent about these details of the conversation with the bald man when he reported to Madara or Pain. The Akatsuki no longer needed income so badly; therefore, one failed mission would hit their reputation more than their finances. Although, considering the replenishment of the organization's budget from the funds of the shipping magnate, it couldn't even be called a blow. And as for reputation, Danzo wouldn't trumpet the Akatsuki's failure at every corner, and the mercenaries themselves had always been secretive and weren't going to publicize their failures.
— You're not telling me something, — Saitama frowned. A chill ran down Itachi's spine, but outwardly the missing-nin remained as calm as usual.
Uchiha wanted to say that he had told everything he himself knew, that information about the client was strictly classified and he had no access to it, however...
— Your order, — the waitress's voice was heard, and the dishes were placed on the table.
Saitama instantly forgot what he wanted to know and resumed devouring the food. Uchiha, however, exhaled slightly. He also decided to finally finish his dango.
Noticing that Saitama was no longer so hungry and was eating quite calmly, the brunette considered it necessary to finally steer the bald man's thoughts away from the client and the millions of ryō.
— Saitama-sama, and what is this dish you mentioned… "fries," I believe?
— Oh… Itachi, fries are the food of the gods...
— …Itachi! Itachi! Can you hear me? What's wrong with you? — Kisame's worried voice forced Uchiha out of his memories.
The brunette turned to his partner and nodded reassuringly:
— I'm fine. Just thinking.
Itachi surveyed the large cave they had found in the Land of Rivers. It was perfectly suitable as an additional base. The only things needed were to level the surface, add reinforcing fuin, and in the future, devise perimeter protection against outsiders. But that could wait.
Right now, Uchiha still couldn't get Saitama's last words out of his head. And no, not the ones in which he praised french fries.
That day, after they finished eating and went outside, Itachi asked the bald shinobi the main question. The question that gnawed at his curiosity the most.
"Saitama-sama, why did you spare me and let the others go?"
To which he immediately received the answer:
"I noticed right away that you were pretending to be a bad guy. You have kind eyes, Itachi. And in general, you're a good guy, even though you decided to play villains for some reason. I don't know anything about your past, but I think someday you'll be able to cast off the darkness in your soul and shed this faceless mask.
As for your teammates… hmm… you can consider that I gave them a second chance. And I don't kill people. Only monsters... Anyway, take care of yourself. And well… when the time comes, make the right choice…"
And now, replaying that conversation in his head, Itachi couldn't find peace. Uchiha had no idea how Saitama had found out about his mission. Although he hadn't said it directly and had pretended not to know anything about his past, was that really the case?
But that wasn't the main thing. What did the bald shinobi mean by saying "when the time comes, make the right choice"? What choice should Itachi make? And when would that time come? It was unclear…
Uchiha had no idea that Saitama had simply decided to deliver some kind of pompous speech at the end so that the red-eyed guy would leave him alone. Actually, the bald man had completely achieved his goal: he had eaten his fill for free; therefore, the missing-nin's subsequent mental torment didn't concern Saitama at all.
— Now that we've found a place, we should probably contact the Leader, — Kisame suggested in a creaky voice.
— Right, — Itachi distracted himself from his thoughts.
A couple of moments later, he established contact with the Leader through his ring, bringing Pain the good news. An additional base-hideout, and at the same time a point for the future extraction of the One-Tail, had finally been found. Everything was going according to plan.