Bureaucracy

"In politics, an absurdity is not a handicap."- Napoleon Bonaparte

Tsunade's gaze swept over the gathered crowd, numbering just over one hundred, who decided to attend the meeting. It couldn't have been much more than a forth of the village, but they would grow. And so would her headaches. If it wasn't for the small bottle of Sake at the edge of her desk she would have left screaming an hour ago.

"You can't really expect the Lord of Fire country to keep giving us funds." An old woman said from her seat near the back. She leaned on a cane, her eyes twinkling. "Since the coup the shinobi have made dead sure little information has leaked. While I agree busy-bodies shouldn't know about our business, it has no doubt sown seeds of doubt and mistrust in the ruling body. How can they depend on a military force that decimates its own ranks?"

Hinata could be seen blushing furiously from her seat closer to the front. Though clever, the girl hadn't factored in loss of commissions from the Lord of Fire. It was now coming back to haunt her.

People began whispering amongst themselves. With the serious reduction in jobs from the surrounding countryside, courteously of the rigorous weeding by Ibiki, the issue raised was grave. Most of the remaining population were ninja, and civilians rapidly grew to be proud of their skills and positions. There was little else besides missions to bring new income.

"What are we going to do?! Become a village of bandits?" One woman cried hysterically. She loved her home, but the thought of bringing dishonor to her family resulted in a death grip on her katana.

"There's no way we can defend against a direct attack with our current numbers. Nor can we support further growth. We're stuck." A former ANBU sighed. His mask was missing, abandoned at the end of ranks, but the familiar sword remained at his back.

"Not necessarily." Quiet came over the murmuring crowd. A middle aged man with a red and white hat, normally referred to as old man Ichiraku, rose from his seat to address the crowd. "I have some contacts in Wave country still, and it wouldn't be hard to start up a… lucrative… trading business. The profits generated from it could easily support the city, with the proper organization."

Tsunade sipped her Sake, there was something about the way the seemingly innocent man said that last part that disturbed her. "Explain this 'lucrative' business, Teuchi-san."

"Of course, simply put the drug trade of Wave is infamous yet profitable. This is because the environment is ideal for growing certain types of plants. The proximity of some of the islands to Konoha isn't that bad. If the growing is done on those islands, processed here, and then shipped out from a close port…"

Tsunade didn't like the implications. She may not be Hokage anymore, but her voice still carried much weight. Her concerns however, were already being voiced by others. A young woman with brown hair in spiked pigtails, her daughter sitting next to her armed with a sling-shot, rose. "I won't have my children becoming drug-addicts!"

"I second that. If this, business is allowed to work what will happen to the children? It's a poison that shouldn't be allowed past the gates."

"Are you sure?" Asuma asked from his chair, blowing out a cloud of smoke. His pupils dialated as he inhaled. "There are various medical uses for 'outlawed' drugs. Tsunade-hime?"

The blonde woman closed her eyes. "It is suspected that smoked marijuana can help with the medical condition of glaucoma, appetite loss, and general pains." She stared down at the puffing former jounin. So that's what your doing.

"Thank you." Teuchi spread his arms in supplication. He wanted this, he had gotten out long ago but now the chance to return and fix the shit his successor Gatou had done was too tempting. All it would take was a little convincing. "Supplying the hospital with medical herbs would be entirely voluntary; the staff can decide what will be cultivated."

A darkly dressed teen in the back jumped up in joy. "Wooo-hooo! Free Opium baby!"

"Sit-down! You're embarrassing me!" His girlfriend blushed while cleaning her nails with a dagger.

Iruka decided he would have to take charge before the meeting degenerated into chaos. He stood, took a breath, and performed a jutsu that forever made him a legend among his students. Flames jumped in his eyes as he slammed his minute notebook down, gaining the fear and attention of all present. "All those in favor of allowing Teuchi-san to control the legal drug-trade?"

Many people stood, several girls giggled happily at the prospect.

"Those opposed?"

A significantly lower number of people stood. Still others remained sitting, undecided

"Motion passed." Iruka turned to the ramen chef and pulled out a notepad. "Is there anything you require? Things we should know?" The two men walked out to discuss the future. Iruka could be trusted to look out for the interests of the village.

Iruka arched an eyebrow at some of the suggestions made. Teuchi meant well, he was sure, but so many chemicals could be dangerous. The cost of building secure facilities for the processing would be considerable, and no one could keep a determined shinobi out. If the genin became addicted to the stuff…

"We'll be careful, Iruka-sensei." The old man smiled over a steaming pot of ramen. "There isn't as much danger as you would think. Those that actively participate are much less likely than those who don't to overdose or became irepairably addicted."

"If you say so…" The teacher replied hesitantly. "If we hire out, the buildings can be done in a month or so. But with the current situation, secrecy is key. I'm afraid we only have those in the village to help with construction."

The man leaned back and took of his chef hat, his countenance held a smile meant to be disarming. "We could make it a long-term mission to be done at the ninja's convience. A constant income would be appealing, don't you think? Preferable to pay upon the completion of missions." Iruka was weakening. But he didn't want to let the former mafia boss turned ramen chef have full reign, but everything was planned out and made sense. The younger, restless genin would love to have something to do. "Then of course, there's a my own mission I'd like to hire out for."

"Oh?"

"I need to visit some old partners in Wave, and will require and escort. Preferably someone who can remain calm in all situation. And look secretive. It'll intimidate the fish. I would expect it to be equal to a 'B' class, possibly higher but unlikely."

Tsunade was about to call the meeting to an end when a little girl shot a flash bomb at the ceiling with her sling-shot, quickly silencing the crowd and gaining attention. "I'm sorry. But I've had my hand raised for a loooong time." She calmly used a chubby hand to brush her bangs back, revealing hungry brown eyes. Stunned silence controlled the room as people lowered their weapons. "Thanks! We'll, I've been thinking, and I have an Uncle who's in ninja prison. Can he come out?"

"That's perfect! There are tons of old shinobi in that place. If we can convince them to help us-" One man said excitedly.

"Idiot. Have you forgotten why they are in there. Mass murders!"

"Don't you think that's a little hypocritical?" the old lady from before replied.

"Why don't we just ask them to help us?"

"I've been keeping it running, and I can say more than half of the people imprisoned would jump at the chance to leave." A bespectacled woman sighed tiredly. The small amount of ash in her hair paid testament to the volcanic workplace she frequented.

Jiraiya leaned back as the debate went on. He could already see how it would end. Someone would be nominated to interview the inmates, they'd be offered citizenship with stipulations, blah blah blah. There are more important things in life. Like…what does that woman look like in a bikini? Hehehe.

END.