Daily Chemical Products

Utsusemi was awakened by the bustle of the Senju Clan Compound: the crisp clatter of bamboo sieves being gathered after herbs had been laid out to dry, the clinking of Kunai being returned to their places in the ninja tools storehouse, and the sounds of the women gathering laundry from the drying lines.

Since the ceasefire agreement had taken effect, even the air seemed to pulse with a cheerful rhythm.

"Awake? You slept soundly." Hashirama's smiling voice came from above her.

Even though he had carried her on his back for over five hours, hurrying from the hot springs in the Land of Hot Water to the Senju Clan Compound, his breathing remained steady.

Utsusemi rubbed her sleepy eyes and mumbled, "Put me down."

Itama had already swooped down from the treetops. He held out a water flask eagerly. "Sister, want some water? I prepared lemonade before we left."

"Yes." Utsusemi took off the haori Hashirama had draped over her, accepted the flask, and gulped down half its contents.

Tobirama Senju, a ninja known for his meticulousness, approached along a path covered in lingering snow.

He had evidently been waiting at the compound entrance for some time, as moisture had condensed on his dark blue armor.

The moment the four exchanged glances, they turned toward the clan head's residence in unspoken understanding.

In the reception room of the clan head's residence, the three Senju brothers sat properly in seiza, like three swords drawn from their scabbards.

Utsusemi sat cross-legged at her ease. Her knees had no desire to endure such constraints.

She had no intention of observing Japanese etiquette. She was doing them a favor by not lying down outright.

Hashirama Senju suddenly prostrated himself in a deep bow. When his forehead struck the green bamboo mat with a thud, the atmosphere in the reception room changed.

"The Senju Tribe thanks you from the bottom of our hearts! Without your mediation, we could never have reached a ceasefire with the Uchiha."

His voice was full of heartfelt gratitude, and the dull thud of his forehead against the mat sounded especially clear in the quiet room.

A vein bulged at Tobirama Senju's temple, and his tightly clenched fists showed his displeasure. "Brother!"

He realized that this action had once again handed Utsusemi the initiative entirely.

As the Senju's strategist, he was instinctively wary of actions that placed the clan in a passive position.

Utsusemi chuckled and waved a hand. "We're friends and family. There's no need to be so formal."

Her gaze moved between the three of them. "The ceasefire is a good thing, but Madara must have set conditions?"

"Heal Izuna." Hashirama raised his head, hope shining in his eyes. "Once he recovers, we'll form an alliance and build a village."

"That's right." Utsusemi nodded in confirmation. "I'll go to the Uchiha Clan Compound every day to treat him."

That promise meant she would travel frequently between two clans with a generations-long feud, taking on enormous risks.

Utsusemi pushed an exquisite lacquered box toward Tobirama.

Inside was a neatly stacked pile of documents detailing various secret formulas.

They covered not only making soap from tea seed oil and caustic soda, but also extracting essential oils with a cypress distillation apparatus.

There were illustrated instructions for making skin-care products such as hydrosols and shampoo, and even detailed records of the fragrance blends favored by nobles and wealthy merchants in the Land of Hot Water.

More astonishing still, the documents included established sales channels among the nobles of the Land of Hot Water.

Tobirama Senju's pupils abruptly contracted. These techniques were enough to overturn the skin- and hair-care market across the Five Great Nations.

"I'll leave the production technology to the Senju. I've already established the sales channels. I'll handle the Land of Hot Water, and you can take the Land of Fire."

Utsusemi's voice was calm as still water, yet it held the power to change the commercial landscape.

When Tobirama Senju cautiously asked about the division of profits, Utsusemi offered them fifty percent, far exceeding the thirty percent minimum he had expected.

Hashirama Senju rubbed his hands uneasily. "That would leave us owing you too much, Utsusemi."

Utsusemi idly stirred a tea stem in her cup and repeated an old saying with an air of nonchalance. "It's nothing, just a few little things."

Behind those words lay knowledge and technology that far surpassed this era.

She then made her real request: children under twelve were to be forbidden from undertaking combat missions and allowed only to run errands, do farm work, and handle odd jobs.

When a village was built in the future, its children were to be treated the same way.

Her fingers stroked Itama's short black-and-white hair. "I don't want to see any more children die on the battlefield."

Itama felt a sting in his nose, and hot liquid blurred his vision.

The emotions churning in Hashirama Senju's chest burst forth, and he spread his arms to pull the melancholy Utsusemi into an embrace and comfort her.

The Tenseigan analyzed Hashirama's reaction and found it troublesome. Before the wind stirred by his robes could touch her skin, she had used the Body Flicker Technique to get behind Tobirama.

She gripped his tuft of white fur collar tightly, using the expressionless second-in-command as a human shield.

Utsusemi peeked out from behind Tobirama's shoulder and warned, "Hashirama, we agreed you need permission before hugging me! You're too worked up, so I don't agree!"

As Hashirama Senju began his eighth lap chasing her around his younger brother, Utsusemi kicked over the incense burner while dodging.

Amid the scattering sandalwood ash, the whirlwind stirred up by the two sent scrolls flying from the display shelves, their yellowed pages fluttering everywhere.

Tobirama, who had been used as a post all along, finally lost patience and erupted, chopping his elder brother to his knees with a sharp hand strike.

"Brother! That's enough!" The vein bulging at the silver-haired young man's temple stood out against the incense ash.

Looking at the Senju clan head sprawled face down, Utsusemi stroked his satin-like black hair, sliding her hand along it to the Forehead Protector bearing the Senju emblem.

"Wearing such a cumbersome decoration even in wartime..." She playfully hooked a finger under his chin. "A beauty should go into battle unburdened."

Hashirama Senju's face reddened slightly as he removed his Forehead Protector. He fumbled so badly while untying it that he nearly made a knot he couldn't undo.

Utsusemi had already retreated to a safe distance and was pointing out the clauses Tobirama had just drafted.

"Article seventeen needs a nutritional allowance for children. Every month, families with children should receive five hundred ryō and two measures of polished rice per child."

She touched her chin. "There were four of you brothers, so the limit should be four children. Let's call it the Kawarama Fund, in memory of the child who died young."

The three Senju brothers trembled violently, their eyes growing moist in unison. Was there someone besides them who still remembered Senju Kawarama?

Tobirama Senju's brush flew across the scroll, its tip nearly tearing through the paper.

Hashirama suggested quietly, "Add some money for candy, too."

The sharp crack of the silver-haired young man snapping his brush made the entire meeting room freeze over in an instant.

A death glare warning of a "budget deficit" was directed at Hashirama.

Tobirama Senju and Utsusemi settled the details clause by clause, with Hashirama occasionally adding his thoughts. Amid their discussion, there were only the rustle of brush against paper and occasional bursts of debate.

"Utsusemi," Hashirama said, gazing at her delicate profile for a long moment and clutching the fabric over his knees, "Madara said you defeated him and even made the entire Uchiha submit..."

The question that had troubled Hashirama for so long finally broke through the restraints of reason. "Is it true?"

Tobirama Senju's brush stopped abruptly, leaving a large blot of ink on the paper.

His brother had actually asked so bluntly!

Even he had only dared to make inferences from intelligence: the rebuilt houses in the Uchiha Clan Compound, the tremendous explosion once heard there at night, and Madara's flamboyant signature on the ceasefire agreement they had received...

Every piece of evidence pointed to an absurd yet true conclusion.

"It was time for the war to end." Utsusemi took a sip of tea. "After I defeated Madara, I brought about a ceasefire between the two clans on the condition that I heal Izuna."

The Senju brothers' pupils contracted sharply. Hashirama's Adam's apple bobbed. "But your strength clearly..."

He recalled Utsusemi's abysmal Taijutsu at the training ground.

She had only begun training in Ninjutsu as an adult and had practiced for less than five months, though her contract with Itama allowed her to use Flower Release.

She had gone from being so clumsy that she could barely manage a straight punch or side kick to reaching the lower-middle level of an ordinary female ninja through her monstrous strength.

But in Taijutsu assessments, she still lagged behind the Senju Tribe's twelve-year-olds.

Even with those special eyes that made her immune to Genjutsu, and taking into account her Limitless, that technique of absolute defense, it was still utterly impossible...

Of course, her progress was obvious. Otherwise, he would not have felt comfortable letting her and Itama seek refuge in the Land of Hot Water.

But there was a world of difference between her strength and Madara's. The figure in his memories clashed so badly with that of a powerhouse capable of suppressing the Asura of the Ninja World.

"Madara admitted it himself, didn't he?" Utsusemi set down her teacup and declared, "In Six Paths Mode, I do have that kind of power."

She gazed at the two brothers and smiled. "None of this would have been possible without your teaching."

Her smile was clearer than the morning dew on the Naka River, yet it reminded Tobirama of the battered barrier around the Uchiha Clan Compound described in the Intelligence Division's report the previous night.

Utsusemi took Hashirama's left hand, then placed Tobirama's left hand on top of it.

The difference in their skin tones was especially striking with their hands stacked together, steadily supporting the Senju Tribe.

Utsusemi wrapped her own warm hands around both of theirs.

She gave them a sincere, radiant smile. "Thank you. I'm so glad I met you in this cruel world."

Hashirama Senju's lips trembled, leaving him unable to speak as a painful sob welled up in his throat.

Tobirama Senju held his back rigid as the blush spreading from the tips of his ears quickly engulfed his entire face.

The smile blooming on the usually aloof Utsusemi's face and the sincerity shining in her eyes were more dazzling and captivating than an Uchiha Genjutsu.

The light that had suddenly brightened the reception room was melting away the gloom that had lingered between the Senju clan head's brows for years.

He struggled to restrain the urge to spread his arms and pull Utsusemi into an embrace, restraining himself until Tobirama shot him a chilling warning look.