7

Due to the fact that Saeko is busy arranging very important and somewhat dangerous matters, she hires an assistant.

She's surprised when a lot of people come due to her neat poster asking for a paid assistant in the main town square. Dai-kun had done it for her, because though Saeko can read and write now, she still kind of sucks. Which is fine, because Dai-kun is great with his hands in every way. Well, except one way. Actually she's not too sure about that, because he could be good with his hands in every way but Saeko has a firm rule to never sleep with blacksmiths, so she'll never know.

Either way, she interviews at least thirty people. Some aren't even from the capital, but are instead weird peasants who want to make it big or something. She kind of hates them.

The only promising one is a man called Kaito. He's from the Wind Country, and he kind of reminds her of wind. He's flippant and seems laid back, which matches Saeko's distinct lack of laid back-ness.

He knows nothing about fashion.

"Have you ever worked with shinobi?" Saeko asks him at the end of the interview.

"Briefly. My brother is a mercenary."

"And did he ever...y'know, do questionable things? Questionable violent things? But without killing?"

Kaito frowns. "Do you mean torture?"

"Well, I suppose if you're going to put it that way, then yes. Torture."

"I suppose he did?"

Saeko beams at him. "Excellent! Congratulations. You're hired."

He doesn't even smile. He just shrugs. "Cool. When do I start?"

Kaito is perfect.

He proves himself within only a few days, flippantly dealing with the shinobi but also making sure to squander money out of them and always getting the Torture Tax right. Even though he's dumb in terms of fashion, he's smart when it comes to punching out the numbers, and that's the kind of man Saeko needs in her life.

Saeko doesn't trust him or like him enough to leave him alone in her beloved shop, but she's comfortable enough to sit in the corner, writing letters to Fumiko's old sources. It's an angry task, though, considering the replies she usually gets end with: have you heard from Fumiko?

Which is such a dumb thing to ask. If Saeko had heard from Fumiko, she wouldn't tell Fumiko's stupid weird not-friends. And did them asking her if she had heard from Fumiko mean they hadn't heard from Fumiko? So then it's normal that Saeko hasn't received anything?

Either way, she wishes that the stupid sources would just send her what she wanted without the niceties. For people somewhat dedicated to killing, they're weirdly polite.

Saeko avoids Yuka while collecting all her materials. She doesn't show up to their weekly lunch, and seeing as no guards burst through her door demanding that Yuka-sama wants to see her, she presumes that Yuka wants to avoid her as well.

All in all, it's a somewhat smooth week, thanks to Kaito. Saeko's only wish is that Kaito's talents extended to dealing with Hashirama, because despite their last conversation, the idiot hasn't taken a hint and seems addicted to leaning over her shoulder while she writes out her letters, mixes chemicals and crafts the perfect outfit.

"How many times do I have to tell you that if you're not buying anything, you need to leave?" Saeko snaps a week after their conversation, glaring up at him as he blinks innocently.

"I like to see you work, Saeko-san!"

She goes back to cutting the wig she's acquired, making sure it's silky and soft even though she had doused it with hair dye the night before. Sure, Saeko could just dye her hair back to brown, but then she'd loose the amazingly cut platinum blonde bob she's got going on.

"Are you going to start selling things like this?" Hashirama asks, leaning further into her personal space. He doesn't even smell like blood. What kind of shinobi is he?

Saeko stands up, making sure to elbow him as she does. "This is for personal use," she says. "Anyway, we're about to close, you need to leave. Thanks."

He blinks innocently at her before offering a wide smile, as if he's completely forgotten about their argument. "Of course! See you tomorrow, Saeko-san!"

After two weeks of diligent planning and hiding everything possible from Hashirama, she's ready. Saeko has a shitty kimono that she doesn't care about because she has no doubt that it's going to be ruined. The wig fits perfectly, and she's practised putting on make up, making sure to accentuate her unfortunately small lips and exaggerate her cheek bones until she looks almost unrecognisable.

As much as Saeko loves fame, she has a feeling that the daimyo would recognise her if she just waltzed right in to his dumb fortress. But he wouldn't know her face exactly, so it's good enough to just alter it slightly.

"How do I look, Kaito-kun?" she asks her assistant, showing off the wig.

He shrugs. "Looks alright to me."

"If you weren't good at numbers you would be fired, Kaito-kun! Put some enthusiasm in, please."

He sighs. "Looks really good to me," he says in the same casual tone.

Saeko supposes she can't have everything. And her everything includes an assistant who is enthusiastic, prompt, good at maths, knows his fashion and also loves her.

She tests it out in the town the next day, walking around and examining things in the market place. No one recognises her. She even goes to Dai-kun's, just to see if she's that good but —

"Take off those ridiculous things," Dai-kun says after glancing at her for one second.

"I think I look very different," Saeko huffs. "You just—I know! I didn't switch up my perfume. That's why you recognised me, through my scent!"

"I don't care about your scent. Do you have the money from me for the last sales of those stupid metal clothes you've been making?"

Saeko rolls her eyes. "Kimono with metal embellishments. It's not the entire clothes! That would be armour, then, and that's very barbaric."

Dai-kun glares. "Get out of my shop and don't come back until you've got my share."

Honestly, some people don't have their priorities right. Saeko decides to chalk up Dai-kun's awareness of her being...well, her to her perfume and not her disguise. Her disguise is perfect. Dai-kun is just some random. None of the people in the market recognised her!

Her plan is going to work. The poison is ready. And it'll be painful! And hopefully exciting to watch.

Getting into the daimyo's fortress is disgustingly easy. Saeko knows she looks like she's about to visit one of the men and treat him to an amazing night, but still. The shinobi should do their jobs! Kami knows Saeko does her job always.

She avoids any recognisable Senju shinobi that she's seen with Hashirama and also, of course, the dumbass himself. Yet as she expected, Hashirama is nowhere to be seen because he is a shit leader.

Saeko had asked Yuka where the daimyo's room was ages ago, when the daimyo had been her father and she had just been curious. There's two shinobi guarding it, so Saeko turns on her charm.

"Hello boys," she purrs.

They stare at her. They look nervous. Excellent.

"I think you know what I am. Well, you'd be fools to not. Either way, there's about to be a lot of screaming coming from that room soon. Don't worry, the good kind of course. But...well, if you'd be so kind, it would be lovely if you could just wander down the hallway a little? I won't be long, I promise." She finishes her spiel by leaning down, flashing her assets at them.

Well, they're not assets. There's a lot of cloth pushing up her not-assets so they look like assets.

She watches them exchange nervous glances before nodding.

"Give us a shout if you need anything," one of them even says.

Need anything? Saeko's not sure if he's being genuinely kind or wants a threesome.

When they're half way down the corridor, Saeko heads into the daimyo's room. He's just chilling on his bed, reading a scroll. He's alright looking, Saeko supposes, in a kind of bland and arrogant way.

"Who are you?" the new daimyo asks, sitting up.

Saeko gives him a pretty smile. "I'm Ko-chan."

He stares at her, eyes narrowed, and for a moment Saeko is worried he's seen through her amazing disguise.

His gaze changes though, when Saeko shifts her shoulders, letting the annoyingly traditional kimono slip slightly.

"One of your...advisors thought it would help the greater good of the Fire Country if you were more relaxed," Saeko continues, approaching him slowly and making sure to keep her forced smile in place. She's not even sure if he has advisors. Why the fuck is there a daimyo if he just gets advised, anyway?

He smiles, and what a fucking pervert! It's basically a leer. She's pretty sure she sees a tooth missing back there. Saeko needs to work on her toothpaste.

"I've bought some special sake for you, too. But trust me, that's only the first course." Saeko gives him a wide grin, pulling her homemade glassware out that contains her homemade sake.

The daimyo frowns at the bottle. "Glass? An odd storing method."

"Oh, new science has emerged and it says that the sake tastes better if it sits in glass!"

He nods, frowning thoughtfully. Honestly, how dumb. Is he seriously going to drink this? Surely he's been given a masterclass in not accepting drinks from strangers.

She pours the sake into two sakazuki, smiling widely at him.

"How about we make this the second course, instead?" he asks, grabbing her waist.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Saeko makes sure her eyes are wide as she stares at him.

"When I meant this was homemade and was the first course...well, let's just say there's a reason. Trust me, your performance will be so much better." She forces herself to kiss his disgusting sweaty neck, willing herself to think of Fumiko's dainty neck instead, praying that somewhere in this world, an early form of Viagra exists. And that the promise of it would make the daimyo drink a stranger's sake.

It must exist, which is potentially something else Saeko can perfect in this world, because the daimyo takes the cup with a smirk.

"You have access to a great deal of interesting things," he says before taking a lengthy sip.

Saeko wishes this had been harder. Did the Senju just not care about the daimyo? She's pretty sure Madara-kun did a better job in his brief guarding stint with the old daimyo than the Senju, because this is almost embarrassing. But also no surprise. Any clan who's leader spends all their time waltzing around and pouting and looking over civilians is bound to be inept.

Unfortunately, Saeko now has to deal with the hard part, literally, as she sits on his gross lap and tries to ignore his gross hands pawing away far too aggressively at her. It shouldn't be long, she knows. Only another few minutes, and then she'll happily watch him die painfully.

By the time he starts coughing, he's making embarrassing moans and Saeko's kimono is ripped and sure, even though it's a bit of an ugly one, he ripped her clothes!

"Are you okay?" Saeko asks innocently as she gets off his lap, touching his shoulder as he splutters and coughs everywhere.

He can't even respond.

It's fucking beautiful.

He crumples to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat, frowning up at her as if he's waiting for her to run and get help.

Saeko grins at him and gets to her knees, grabbing his face. "I would never go for a guy like you. For one, you stink. I don't even mean that metaphorically or whatever, I mean you fucking stink. You sweat so much. And you moan in this weird embarrassing way! Like, normally I like it when my lovers moan but one, you're not my lover and two, your moans suck."

The daimyo makes an attempt to swipe at her but it's pathetic, just like him.

"Yeah, you're dying. I'm so sorry. I'll make sure to give my condolences to your family. Like your wife. Y'know, Yuka? Kind girl. Hasn't done a thing wrong? Yeah, her. Well see here's the thing. You fucked up when you decided to hurt her. So now I'm hurting you! Seems fair, right?"

His coughing has gotten out of hand, because it's at this point someone knocks.

And now Saeko has to pull out all her amazing acting and crime-covering up skills as she shoves the sake bottle and cups in her bag and wills the tears.

"Help!" she screams. "Something's wrong with the daimyo!"

At once, the two shinobi rush in, the door sliding open as they push her out of the way and shake the daimyo, who's gone a disgusting purple colour, with blood pouring out of his nose and mouth.

Saeko knows how suspicious this looks. She doesn't really care. She gets up, ready to leave.

"Hey, wait a second—"

Before he can grab her, she's out the door, hurrying down the steps. She takes off her wig and shoves it into her bag, and grabs the spray containing the make up remover, sprays it and rubs all over her face with a cloth. She wraps a far nicer kimono around the ripped one and flips her bag inside out so it's a different colour. By the time she's reached the ground floor and there's a hoard of shinobi stopping her, Saeko is back to being her beautiful self.

"Is this the one they were describing?" one of the shinobi asks the hoard.

Wow. They have quick communication. She wonders if they have some early form of a phone.

"No, that's just one of Yuka-sama's friends. Keep searching."

Saeko gives them a grin and exits the fortress.

She did it.

And it was disgustingly easy.

The news is all over town. Hashirama stops rolling up at her shop.

In Saeko's eyes, the world is a marvellous place to exist.

She waits awhile before visting Yuka. It would seem weird, and she's pretty sure Yuka knows who killed the daimyo. Or at least suspects.

Saeko designs an outfit for the occasion. It needs to be grand, and very white. A blinding white. With a bit too much lace, and a bit too sheer. She can see it in her head, and if she were to name the dress it would be called something cute like virgin about to be defiled. Or something like that.

The name is unimportant.

While the town floods with gossip, she focuses on finishing up the rest of her designs, paying Dai-kun, and ordering Kaito around as well. It takes about a week to finish off the dress while doing all that, and by that time the gossip has died down to facts.

The facts are:

1. The Senju clan is in disgrace.

2. Every shinobi is hunting for a pretty blonde whore who poisoned the daimyo. There's a high reward for their head.

3. No one really knows who's going to be daimyo next.

It's all very exciting and political. Saeko doesn't care too much. All she wants is for Yuka to be out of the fortress and away from any possible future husbands or father-in-laws or whatever that could injure her.

When Saeko visits Yuka, she's seated by her window, wrapped in a thick black kimono.

"Did I design that?" Saeko asks, not bothering to knock.

Yuka jumps out of her seat, staring at her with wide eyes. "Saeko."

Wow. Saeko can't believe it. After months of begging Yuka to drop the honorific, she finally has. It's definitely a defining moment in their friendship.

"Sorry I haven't visited. I heard the news and everything. I've just been so busy with work, y'know. People love a good funeral, even when they're not even invited! They just like to buy something black and claim they care, I reckon."

Yuka stares before strolling right past Saeko and shutting the door to her bedroom.

"Why?" she demands, and wow, this is truly the day of change for old Yuka. She's demanding things without stammering.

Saeko frowns. "Why what?"

"Why did you kill him?"

There's a part of Saeko that wants to lie. She's not really sure where they stand, as friends. They are friends, but are they the type of friends who cover up a murder together?

"He was hurting you," Saeko says, squirming.

Yuka stares. "Saeko, you—"

"He's gone," Saeko dismisses, changing tactics. "He's dead. I killed him. Honestly, in the end, it wasn't even for you. It was for me. He was sweaty!"

"They will find you. They will. Someone will figure it out. You cannot just—I don't understand."

"I told you, he was hurting you. He had bad body odour. He was sweaty. I could give you a thousand reasons and I only met him once!"

Yuka shakes her head, lips pursed. "No. Saeko, please, just—leave. I am not angry. I just think it is a bad idea for you to be here so soon."

It's true. For once, Yuka is being smart. But it feels odd, this dismissal.

Oh Kami, Saeko cares about her. No, she knew that before. It's different. Saeko feels like she's overthinking something. Like she's wondering if Yuka is not actually being honest, and is sending her away because she hates Saeko.

What kind of bullshit is that?

"Okay. Okay I'll leave. Just—keep me updated, okay?"

Yuka nods, and stands in the centre of her room, waiting for Saeko to leave.

There's only one place to go.

Dai-kun groans when she storms into his little shop.

"What is it now?" he snaps. "I'm not your fucking shrink."

"I don't even know what that means!" Saeko yells. "I'm having a crisis. I'm overthinking something. How does that even happen? Maybe it's just that the past few weeks have been so stressful. I've had stupid Hashirama breathing down my neck over nothing and all this stuff with the daimyo" — Saeko doesn't trust Dai-kun at all to tell him about her murder — "I think it's all getting to my head! I need to slow down. Do a face and hair mask. Exfoliate. Shave. Do the whole shebang."

"I didn't know you were all caught up in that shit with the daimyo," Dai-kun says, frowning and oh shit, he's actually paying attention. "You know the dude who runs the Senju?"

Saeko laughs it off. "I mean, not really. Just casually, y'know. As much as anyone does."

"There've been skirmishes all outside the town. The Uchiha and the Senju are fighting. Probably over who's gonna be guarding the new daimyo or something like that."

"Okay, why would I care about that?"

It's a lie. Saeko kind of cares. Uchiha equals Madara. Madara equals...well, she's not sure what. But something.

Either way, all this overthinking is making Saeko regret her choice. Maybe Yuka is right, and they'll find out and she'll have to leave the capital. And that cannot happen. Where will Saeko go? Another capital?

Her nightmare happens the next night at the store. Saeko's packing up and counting the money after having sent Kaito home when an absolute swarm of shinobi led by Hashirama walk through the door.

Saeko takes a deep breath. She rehearsed her grand speech many times while lying in bed last night. She's got this.

"Hashirama, I thought I told you—"

"I thought I told you to stay out of it."

There's no disgustingly fake warmth in his voice like there used to be. His stare is hard and reprimanding, and it interrupts Saeko's planned speech for a moment. She has to improvise, now.

"I'm sorry, I thought I told you to do something or I'd take it into my own hands."

He shakes his head at her. "You're not even going to pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about?"

Saeko snorts. "I'm proud of what I did. It took me a lot of work to get that wig right, and to concoct that poison. I'm glad he died."

"You're good at what you do. You're smart, in possible the worst way I've ever seen before. But that's where it ends. You know nothing about politics, about how all this works. You think you did the right thing, but—"

"Maybe you should've been better at your job instead of running around doing whatever it is you've been doing."

A weird blush appears on Hashirama's face before he shakes his head, resuming the serious I'm disappointed expression. "No. You shouldn't have done this. You—there was going to be a way for peace, with this daimyo. He could have bridged the gap between the clans, and—"

"You can do that yourself," Saeko snaps. "You're a grown man. Act like it."

Some of the shinobi draw their swords.

"What, are you gonna kill me or something?" Saeko demands.

"No," someone interrupts, and with the grace and drama of a drag queen in Los Angeles, Madara enters the shop.

The Senju don't even attack him, which is so dumb. If Saeko were Hashirama, she would have stabbed him while he was doing his dramatic walk in, then and there.

There's a few Uchiha with him, but far less than the Senju.

"If you touch her, I'll kill you," Madara growls, standing in front of her.

Saeko stares because she's honestly never really thought she and Madara were that good friends.

"She's irreplaceable," he continues.

Saeko can't help but smile.

"She may have a shit personality but she's my supplier."

Saeko's smile fades.

"Now get. Out."

"Madara—" Hashirama begins.

"Get out of my fucking shop, you fucked up moral compass!" Saeko screams from behind Madara's back.

Hashirama hesitates. She has a feeling he wants to do some really long monologue about morality and being smart and not murdering people and all this shit, and how's she ended the world as they all know it. The other Senju are all looking at him with...Saeko thinks that it's frustration.

They leave, however, after Hashirama's brief hesitation. Saeko smiles.

"Thank Kami Hashirama is obsessed with you Madara, otherwise this random wouldn't have been able to kill the daimyo," one of the weird looking guys next to Madara comments.

Madara glowers. "That's not what happened."

"Oh I think it is."

"Shut up, Keiji."

"And I am not a random!" Saeko interrupts. "Excuse you."

Idiot Keiji rolls his eyes. "Sure. Whatever, country girl."

Madara gives him a pointed look, which, wow, Saeko needs to learn how to convey a whole conversation with her eyes like Madara just did. Idiot Keiji walks off, gesturing for the other Uchiha to follow him.

It's just her and Madara now.

"You look awful," Saeko says before she can stop herself. "I mean, seriously. Have you been keeping up with your skin routine?"

"We've been fighting the Senju all week. It's a bit difficult to find time and a mirror."

Saeko shakes her head. "You should've said so! I can make you a nice little compact mirror. I could even make it so it attaches onto your armour. That would be useful, wouldn't it?"

"No. That wouldn't be useful."

"Well, screw you then. Don't be nice about my invention."

"I just saved your life. I think I deserve a bit of gratitude."

Madara's got that annoying little smirk on his face, that screams I'm right and you're wrong, which is ridiculous, because Saeko is never wrong!

But...okay. He may have a point this time. Saeko's not too sure if there's a jail in this world or something. She presumes there is, and that it's violent and awful and that they would only give her shampoo for her hair, with no conditioner. It would be that barbaric.

So, yes, Madara did save her from catastrophe. But still, Saeko isn't gonna admit that, especially when he's been absent for so long.

"I'm not thanking you. You left me for ages. Even worse, I had to deal with Hashirama! How awful is he? He's so moral that he's not moral. Do you know what I mean?"

"No."

"Well, he is. Just trust me on this."

A very small tiny possible Madara-smile appears on his face. It's more a grimace, but Saeko beams at him.

"Are you staying, now?"

"Well, Saeko, you did just kill the daimyo while the Senju were supposed to be guarding him. We're in control of the capital once more. So, yes, I am staying."

This is confusing. Saeko is pretty sure that Madara killed the last daimyo. Maybe it took her awhile to realise after it had happened, but he definitely had done it.

And well, technically Saeko assisted a little bit. She gave him the bleach. But she was unaware at that point! If she'd been aware, she would've charged him a fucking fortune.

She's not sure why he's so eager to be back guarding the capital once more when he...

Oh well. Saeko can't be bothered keeping track of Madara's mood swings and politics.

"Then how about I show you some of my new products I've been working on?" Saeko says, grabbing his arm.

This time, Madara definitely smiles.

A/N: I was supposed to update this last night buuut yeah i was tired and couldn't be bothered editing

Anyway this chapter is extra long to make up for the shortness of the last one! and just life I suppose! but as always, thank you so so much for all the support/reviews/faves/follows for this story! still surprised by it...will always be surprised by it. But I hope you enjoy the chapter and feel free to tell me what you think and submit your deepest conspiracy theories!