AIC ch 43 part 2

“That’s not exactly what I meant...” Sarutobi frowned.

The head priest hummed. “As these lands have recently suffered from mismanagement by Orochimaru-san, we here have learned that perhaps it is best to carefully consider the benefits and drawbacks of all chosen affiliations and protections.”

Ouch. Being compared to Orochimaru stung with bitter unfairness. She was his slayer, not his successor.

‘If they really think so poorly of me, there’s no point in me being here.’

She had to work to keep her face and voice unaffected. She looked directly at the head priest and ignored how the Hokage seemed to be preparing to speak.

“Shinpu-sama, I recall that Orochimaru-san’s financial records indicated that his activities were overall beneficial for the economy. Does this reflect your observations?”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed genially. “The village of Sound he founded removed many brigands and other criminals, as well as funded various medical programs and incentivized international trade of rare commodities.”

‘That sounds a lot like what I’ve done,’ Aiko thought, feeling a little bit of pride swell up.

He paused, and his tone became less glowing. “I believe that he also sold a large volume of human organs, and the sale of meat across international borders incurs a particularly high tax.”

“That is disgusting,” Sanbi said.

‘It’s the only thing with a higher profit margin than drugs.’

Sanbi sighed. “I referred to the fact that the organs were taxed as meat. That implies government collaboration at some level.”

“Profitable,” Aiko repeated aloud, not letting the topic affect her. She leaned in slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that Orochimaru’s lack of planning meant that all that infrastructure collapsed when his village did.” She pursed her lips. “I, for example, would diversity the centers of commerce and distribute authority so that the loss of no one person, however tragic, might have such a detrimental impact on the economy.”

“Really,” the ancient priest said. He looked at her speculatively.

She had to think about it for a moment. How would she manage this area?

The Hokage cleared his throat in an obvious interruption. “Maito-kun, how is the bird?”

“Energetic!” Gai beamed around the table. “Yosuzume-san is stretching well, no doubt to prepare for future flights warning unwary travelers of their spectral escort!”

His exuberance startled the bird. It squawked and flapped, unbalancing. Its talons were still caught in his flak jacket, so it ended up half on the table. With one mighty flap, it swept all his dishes to the floor.

Aiko watched this happen blankly, entirely unaffected.

After the clatter there was a long silence.

Maito-kun silently helped the bird back to his shoulder.

She cocked her head and watched them. The bird’s wings were drooping in social mortification. She felt a little bad.

“These things happen,” she said.

The priest sighed. “I am not certain if another serving is available.”

‘I don’t really care about that.’

Looking to smooth it over, Aiko looked down at her food. Her rice was still untouched, and only the pickled eggplant was missing from her tsukemono. “Here.” She passed over her rice bowl and tsukemono with one graceful movement.

Gai took it on reflex, putting down the small dish of tsukemono on the table and cupping the rice in one hand.

The head priest audibly gasped.

Gai beamed at her. “Thank you!”

Aiko made a non committal sound in response and drank from her soup.

Despite her lack of encouragement, Gai’s enthusiasm increased. She sighed and turned her attention to her own food. After a few minutes, Gai got her attention again.

“Are you certain that you don’t want any, Mizukage-sama?” She watched him pick up his tsukemomo dish and cradle it protectively.

Hatake-kun sighed audibly.

Aiko looked between them.

‘This is mildly weird behavior for Gai. Is he going to get anxious and weird if I don’t let him return the favor?’

“I hate to take all of your rice and leave you hungry in bed! It would not be very gentlemanly.” Maito-kun was actually tearing up.

Yes. Yes, he would.

She reached out with both hands to accept the rice back. “That’s very kind, thank you. I hope you both enjoyed the food.”

In her peripheral, she could see that the head priest was hyper focused on how well she was making nice with Konoha. She pretended not to notice as she accepted her dishes back. It was basically reflex to eat some rice to keep Gai from getting any weirder.

The head priest shot up out of his seat. “A wedding!” He cried. He clapped his hands. “How exciting, and how clever.”

…’what.’

“Say what?” Kakashi said, in one of the weirdest tones she’d ever heard from him.

“Uzumaki-san, come come, you can’t sit here with your betrothed.” The priest put a hand on Aiko’s shoulder.

Sanbi was shrieking in pure delighted hysteria.

‘Did you know what was happening? Aiko demanded. ‘You were real quiet then.’

He shrieked again in what had to have been a release of gradually building hilarity.

‘You’re the worst.’

Aiko needed to be in a different room. She stood up, deeply tired of everyone and everything else. “Goodnight,” she said. It was bland.

There was a confused but polite echo of “goodnight” in return.

The Hokage’s voice was weak and dazed. She looked determinedly forward as the Head Priest walked with her to the door.

The old man glanced back. “A traditional proposal,” he said. “Sharing food! Quite romantic.”

“It is a very old custom,” Sanbi giggled.

“I am very romantic,” Aiko agreed grimly. Then the door slid shut behind them.

“This is awkward.” Sanbi didn’t even bother to hide how much fun he was having. “Will you end the engagement?”

‘Eventually.’ Aiko made a face and then hid it before the priest saw it. ‘We can talk it out tomorrow. It might actually be useful for negotiations. The priest wasn’t wrong.’

“That’s not very romantic of you.”

Aiko excused herself from the priest and slipped into her room, quietly thunderous with irritation. That cut off in an instant when she saw the woman gracefully perched in the butsudan.

She hit her knees and genuflected without a thought. There was no conscious decision.

“Well then,” said Amaterasu, disinterested in her piety and panic. “Little death god. I have a task for you.”