Yako reversed the grip on his kunai and plunged it down into Mei'i's skull from above.
If he couldn't bring himself to kill Kyo'i, then he had to be ruthless with her sister.
In truth, Yako had more than enough time to intervene before Mei'i seriously wounded Kyo'i.
But he didn't.
He'd waited—waited until the very last moment, until Mei'i was about to strike the killing blow—then stepped in to stop the murder.
Because if he had struck too soon, Kyo'i might have hated him for it.
Blood flowed from Mei'i's forehead, her ears, her neck.
Kyo'i had wanted to stop him, but Yako didn't give her a single chance.
Her throat and abdomen throbbed with pain.
As she recalled the cold, determined look on her sister's face moments ago, Kyo'i suddenly felt—her sister had become a stranger.
She couldn't even remember what her sister used to be like anymore.
That little girl with the bouncing twin braids who once clung to her heels… that child was long dead, buried deep in memory.
Perhaps all these years of sacrifice were for a version of her sister that existed only in her imagination.
The spy payments, the bonuses—she'd handed it all over to her sister, letting her believe it was all rightfully hers.
Mei'i's corpse hit the ground. Yako pulled the kunai free—brain matter oozed from the fractured skull.
Now, even the Yamanaka Clan wouldn't be able to extract intel from the corpse. He could write the report however he liked.
The Iwa-nin traits on Mei'i's body were prominent—easy enough to use as a cover.
Yako turned, lowered Kyo'i to the ground, and whispered:
"It's over, Kyo'i. It's all over now.
You've been discarded by Iwagakure. Ōnoki blamed the failed operation in part on misinformation from spies like you.
Ōnoki isn't some broad-minded hero. With his dwarfism comes a certain paranoia. He never changes course, never admits fault.
Forget Iwagakure. Forget your sister. Stay here in the Leaf.
I've got people in high places. They can shield you for a while."
If that becomes impossible… Yako thought silently, if you become a threat again… then to protect myself, I'll come kill you first.
The brutality of a shinobi—the reality of it—took form in that moment.
No matter how much he liked Kyo'i, if it ever came down to choosing between her and himself, he would always choose himself.
Yako pulled open the front of her clothes, revealing the wound on her abdomen. As he began treating it, he said:
"Tomorrow at noon, you'll reopen your tavern as if nothing happened.
No matter how much the abdominal wound hurts—you bear it.
The neck wound's simple—just wear a choker.
Yeah… a choker. Very stylish. I like it."
Kyo'i lay on the ground, tears spilling without end.
Tears for herself. For her sister. For all her pointless efforts. For her sister's cold betrayal.
And for the Iwa-nin spies who died around her.
All their deaths… were meaningless in the face of the village's hatred.
And in the end, it wasn't Iwa that saved her.
It was a stranger from the Hidden Leaf.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"My name?" Yako paused while applying medicine, thinking aloud. "What did I tell you it was last time?"
"Miqü," she said softly.
"Then I'm Miqü."
Kyo'i knew he wouldn't tell her the truth. She didn't press.
After all, she was a spy. If someone in Konoha was willing to protect her, that was already more than she could hope for.
Her eyes stared blankly at the slivers of night sky between the tree branches.
"Tell me… why do we kill each other? Why war? Why enemy villages? Why so much death?"
Yako replied:
"In a shinobi world ruled by power, everyone thinks they can force others to kneel with a kunai in hand.
The problem is, everyone thinks that way.
Each of the Five Great Villages, every Kage-level ninja—they all think the same.
There's war between villages, and even within the villages, it's kill or be killed.
Where there are people, there's conflict.
It's too big a problem, Kyo'i. Just focus on surviving. That's all that matters for you and me.
Maybe one day, if I become the strongest shinobi in the world, I can try to reduce the killing a bit."
Even as he said it, Yako didn't believe it himself.
Just something to soothe the girl.
Still… he was starting to take a real interest in the position of ANBU Commander.
The Hokage was too busy to micromanage. The ANBU Commander had more leeway, more tools, and could pull strings quietly.
The Hokage couldn't oversee every operation personally—that's why the Commander's influence mattered.
The next day, at noon sharp, Kyo'i opened her izakaya as instructed.
No one came to arrest her.
It was as if she really had become an ordinary citizen of Konoha, running a small, unremarkable tavern.
And that kind of life… wasn't so bad.
Later that afternoon, someone strode in and shouted, "Boss lady! Your finest sake! And a plate of braised beef!"
Kyo'i blinked.
There he was—standing at the doorway, smiling at her.
And somehow, he looked even more handsome now.
Her cheeks flushed red. She turned away.
After food and drink, Yako figured she wouldn't be up for anything strenuous with her injuries. So he left the izakaya and headed for Konoha Hospital.
Inside, both Black Ape and White Ram had completed their surgeries.
Black Ape, now without his mask, had a round, chubby face like most Akimichi.
His wife was also from the Akimichi Clan—probably a distant cousin.
Shinobi clans kept detailed family records to avoid inbreeding.
Black Ape said to his wife, "Head out for now. I need to talk with a friend."
His wife didn't know he was in ANBU. He'd called Yako a "friend," not a subordinate.
Yako couldn't help glancing at her as she left—those massive breasts put Tsunade's to shame.
The Akimichi Clan, true masters of body expansion—specialists in every sense. Even the Senju couldn't compete in that department.
Once the room was empty, Yako spoke.
"Captain, I've been acting as temporary squad leader, but it's tough to get much done. We're short-staffed."
Black Ape looked down at his bandaged leg.
"I'll be discharged in half a month. Give me another month and a half and I'll be mission-ready again.
Tsunade-sama's medical ninjutsu is phenomenal. My aunt said no one else in the hospital could've saved this leg.
Give me a month and a half. In the meantime, you guys rest up. Captain Yellow Dog likely won't assign you anything major.
Once I'm out, we'll rebuild the Black Ape Squad from scratch."
Yako nodded repeatedly.
That meant he'd have at least a month and a half of relative safety.
The thought made him giddy.
It was the 12th now. He'd already used this lunar cycle's resurrection.
If he could survive until the 14th of next month, he'd use his golden finger—maybe even start something big.
It hadn't been easy.
Every month since arriving in this world, his life had hung by a thread.
No wonder Uchiha Itachi had slaughtered his own clan for peace.
Peace was too precious.
War… it could turn anyone into a beast.