Tsunade reached into her kimono and pulled out a small, ornate sake bottle. “I’m the executive producer. I sit in the back, drink, and say ‘cut’ whenever I feel like it.”
Tenten nodded vigorously.
“I want you to debate ,” Ino corrected. “Conflict is engagement. Engagement is revenue. Revenue buys more explosive tags for Tenten.” Tsunade reached into her kimono and pulled out
Outside, a crowd had begun to gather. Word traveled fast in Konoha—faster when Ino’s psychic broadcast network was involved. Civilians pressed against the tea house windows, phones raised, capturing the legendary kunoichi mid-argument over streaming rights. “I want you to debate ,” Ino corrected
“Eight legendary kunoichi,” Tsunade announced, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “One kitchen. No weapons. Only spice.” Revenue buys more explosive tags for Tenten
Temari of the Sand, who had followed Ino in, dropped a soundproof seal on the table. “Agreed. I’ve been doing Desert Storm Diaries for six months. We’re pulling thirty thousand listeners an episode. Last week I interviewed a jonin who claims he can talk to squirrels. The audience ate it up.”
“What?” Hinata blinked. “They’re very photogenic radishes.”