“I want you to debate ,” Ino corrected. “Conflict is engagement. Engagement is revenue. 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.”
“I invested it in pachinko futures,” Tsunade corrected, sitting down. “Which is why I’m now producing a reality show. Shizune, the papers.”
“And you?” Sakura asked her master.
“Seventeen is generous,” drawled a voice from the doorway. Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage (retired, though no one dared say it to her face), swept in with Shizune trailing behind, arms full of contracts. “When I was your age, we healed people because they were dying, not for likes.”
Tsunade leaned back, crossing her arms. For a moment, the legendary Sannin looked almost amused. “Alright. Here’s the deal. One week. We produce a pilot. Shizune handles production, Ino handles distribution, Temari handles PR. Sakura, you’re the host. Hinata, you’re the wholesome B-roll. Tenten, you get one (1) explosive demonstration per episode.”
“You also gambled away your village’s emergency fund,” Sakura muttered. “I want you to debate ,” Ino corrected
Hinata raised a quiet hand. “Could we… perhaps do a segment on chakra-efficient gardening? My viewers love the radishes.”
Tenten nodded vigorously.
Sakura Haruno slammed her laptop shut. “I’m telling you, the algorithm hates medical ninjutsu. I posted a flawless chakra scalpel tutorial and got seventeen likes. Seventeen!” Revenue buys more explosive tags for Tenten
“Eight legendary kunoichi,” Tsunade announced, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “One kitchen. No weapons. Only spice.”
Shizune sighed. “She’s been watching a lot of behind-the-scenes documentaries.”