"That's about it."
In the now nearly empty Hokage conference room, Ren finally concluded his tale—a masterpiece woven with metaphors, exaggerations, and dramatic flair—half an hour after he started.
He painted the encounter between himself and Fugaku like a clash between two titans.
According to Ren, Fugaku had attacked him in cold blood, a proud Elite Chūnin who ambushed a poor, defenseless academy student.
Ren barely escaped by faking unconsciousness and limping away to safety.
"Lord Hokage," Uchiha Aida began, his tone cautious but stern, "I don't think Shimura Ren's words are reliable. I recommend summoning my son Fugaku to confront this matter directly."
Uchiha Aida, like any respectable Uchiha patriarch, was no fool. He understood his son's... limited cognitive capacity. If Fugaku denied it outright, which he most certainly would, Sarutobi Hiruzen—being a dove and all about harmony—might just smooth things over with a slap on the wrist. Typical.
Danzo's brows twitched in irritation.
"Confrontation? Why!" Danzo growled, his voice tinged with annoyance. He knew Fugaku wouldn't admit to anything. With Sarutobi's current position as Hokage and his influence, he could resolve the conflict forcefully, but diplomatically. Still, something wasn't adding up.
He looked at Ren.
The brat looked calm. Too calm. He wasn't worried about the confrontation at all. In fact, he looked almost... amused.
Danzo's mind spun. Wait. Could it be? This kid made all this up?
After all these years raising the boy, Danzo could read Ren better than anyone. His son was prideful—extremely so. If he'd actually gotten beat up that bad, he would've taken revenge himself rather than whine about it here. Besides, his injuries were superficial, all bark and no bite.
This little punk... set this up from the start.
Still, Danzo played along.
He folded his hands into his sleeves, took a half-step back, and lowered his gaze. He suddenly looked like a passive observer, indifferent and detached.
The shift surprised the room.
Uchiha Aida interpreted it as weakness. His back straightened with that trademark Uchiha arrogance. "Lord Hokage, shall we call Fugaku in? I doubt Lord Danzo wishes to waste any more of his precious time."
Waste? You think I'm done? Danzo sneered internally. Outwardly, his expression didn't budge.
He was already calculating the next step—how to make the Uchiha clan bleed. Not too much to provoke rebellion, not too little to look soft. Just the right amount to remind them who held the leash.
Sarutobi gave a subtle nod and dispatched an ANBU to the Konoha Military Police Force headquarters to summon Uchiha Fugaku.
Five minutes, Sarutobi thought. That's all it should take.
The room fell into awkward silence.
For most shinobi, five minutes of stillness was nothing. But for Ren, five minutes of doing nothing was hell.
He glanced around the room, eyes darting for entertainment—until they landed on something golden, something sacred, something divine.
Tsunade.
Golden hair. Perfect figure. But more importantly... those tragically smooth curves.
Ren tilted his head. Wait a minute… isn't Tsunade in her twenties right now? Why is she still flat?
His eyes narrowed, analyzing her bust like a medical-nin assessing a patient.
How the hell is she supposed to become the most stacked woman in shinobi history at this rate?! Did she eat some forbidden tit-growth jutsu later on? Or is puberty about to hit her like a Bijuudama?
Ren stared with the intensity of the Sharingan—no, the Byakugan—no, both combined!
Tsunade's eye twitched.
She clenched her fists tightly, teeth grinding.
This little brat!
Most people didn't dare look Tsunade in the chest when she was flat-chested or when she was... evolved. Jiraiya had tried once. The bones in his left hand still didn't sit quite right.
But Ren? Ren stared like he was discovering a new jutsu scroll titled Secret Technique: Boob Analysis Jutsu.
Tsunade resisted the urge to send Ren flying through the wall. She couldn't afford to cause a scene—not in the middle of a political landmine involving the Shimura and Uchiha clans.
He's only seven, she told herself. Seven. I can't kill a seven-year-old. That's bad PR.
But then it happened.
A drop of drool rolled down Ren's chin.
The room, already quiet, somehow went quieter.
The sound of Tsunade's knuckles cracking was louder than an exploding tag.
Everyone looked her way. Then, following her horrified gaze, they turned to Ren.
Ren blinked, wiped his chin, and proudly raised his head.
"Ahem... Little Ren… Little Ren!" Sarutobi coughed awkwardly. "Mind your manners!"
Ren didn't flinch. He met Tsunade's death-glare head-on.
"Tsunade," he said with total sincerity, "I believe I'm the most suitable man for you in this world. Be my girlfriend. Give me a chance, and I'll make your boobies bigger!"
The silence shattered.
Sarutobi choked on his pipe.
Danzo's eye twitched so hard, it looked like his Sharingan implant was glitching.
Jiraiya doubled over laughing, slapping the table. "HAHAHAHA! Dead monkey and now THIS?! I'm adopting this kid!"
Orochimaru, still as a snake in ambush, finally cracked a grin. "Interesting... quite an unorthodox medical theory."
Tsunade's entire face flushed crimson—not from embarrassment, but from RAGE.
"You little perverted gremlin!!!"
The conference room trembled.
Ren, completely unbothered, struck a pose. "I promise I'll help them grow! I'll do chakra therapy every day! Massage-style—"
"YOU WANNA DIE?!"
Tsunade lunged forward, but Jiraiya grabbed her arm with both hands, sweat dripping. "Calm down, Tsunade! He's a kid! He's a kid!"
"I DON'T CARE!!"
Ren's smug grin never left his face.
Danzo rubbed his temples. Why is my son like this?
Sarutobi sighed. "Five minutes. Just five minutes. Kami help us."
Also, somewhere in the village, Uchiha Cannon Fodder #1 and Cannon Fodder #2 sneezed at the same time.