Chương 66: Soft Spot

ROOT.

"Yugao Uzuki has begun her jonin assessment. Shikaku Nara didn't ask her much, but afterward he went to see her teacher, Buichi Yamamoto." Danzō listened to his subordinate's report. A thin smile crossed the corner of his mouth.

"Buichi Yamamoto. One of Sakumo Hatake's old teammates. Shikaku going to him saves us a great deal of trouble." He seemed to have already decided how that meeting would end.

"On Sai's end, we've sent people to the border to prepare. If anyone investigates his background there, nothing will turn up." The ROOT shinobi said.

"Mm."

"My lord..." The ROOT shinobi hesitated.

"I'm concerned about whether Sai can complete the mission. He's too young. Looking at Shin's record, he's no ordinary child."

"It's fine." Danzō didn't sound worried.

"Sai's older brother, he was also called Shin, wasn't he."

"Yes. Same intake as Sai. Sai killed him in the end."

"Leave that kind of thing to Sai. He's obedient."

"My lord." The subordinate continued.

"The jonin petition Shikaku Nara has been organizing appears to be ready. We can't move against it openly." Danzō glanced at the man kneeling with his head down.

"I never said we'd make the first move. Let Shin Takami come to us." Midday. Lunch. Everyone gathered in the usual spot, but Shin was somewhere else. He sat with his chopsticks going in circles through his bento, turning over the Sōen Kuriyama problem in his head.

"Shin, you're not eating?" Kiba spotted it and called out.

"Huh?" Shin came back to himself, looked up, and found everyone watching him.

"If you don't want it, give it to me." Choji said.

"Oh." Shin passed his bento over without argument and went back to staring at nothing. Everyone: "..."

"What's Shin thinking about?" Naruto leaned over and whispered to Kiba.

"No idea. He's been drifting all morning." Kiba shrugged.

"You don't think..." Naruto tried.

"He's got a girl he likes?" Every pair of chopsticks at the table stopped at the same moment. Everyone looked at Naruto. He flinched.

"I'm just saying it's possible," he muttered, and went back to eating. The glances that landed on Shin had a searching quality — enough that Shin finally noticed all eyes were on him.

"Why is everyone looking at me?" He startled. Then looked down at his empty hands.

"Wait, where's my bento?" Everyone: "..." Shin let out a helpless sigh and got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Naruto called after him. The others watched him leave and agreed: he was being strange today.

"He's going to find Sasuke." Shino was the one who said it, watching the direction Shin had gone. These days Shin often had lunch with Sasuke. They all knew it.

"Why is Shin so good to that guy?" Kiba grumbled. Naruto nodded with the gravity of a man who had real opinions on the matter. Shikamaru rolled his eyes at both of them. Shino kept watching the direction Shin had gone. Choji put his head down and ate. There was a quiet, out-of-the-way corner of the Academy grounds where Sasuke always sat — back against the trunk of a large tree, working through his lunch in silence. A shadow fell across him. Sasuke didn't look up. He already knew who it was.

"Eating lunch, Sasuke?" Shin crouched down in front of him, smiling. Sasuke looked at that undeservedly cheerful face and, without a word, turned away to the other direction.

"Sasuke, I didn't eat. I'm kind of hungry."

"Where's your bento?" Sasuke asked, still not looking at him. Shin tilted his head, scratched the underside of his chin, and thought it over.

"It went missing." He sighed and settled down beside Sasuke, crossed his arms behind his head, leaned back against the tree, and looked up at the open blue sky. He wasn't in any rush about graduating early. If it happened, fine. If not, that was fine too. Life at the Academy wasn't bad. Quiet. Easy. Nothing breaking apart.

"Hey." Sasuke held his bento out toward him. Shin blinked. Sasuke had his face turned the other way. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Eat it." Shin looked at the side of his face for a moment and laughed. Sasuke stiffened.

"I'm just full. I don't want to waste it."

"Right, right. Got it."

"Hmph." Sasuke muttered something under his breath, as if regretting this already. Shin took the bento. Sasuke had barely eaten half. Afterward they sat side by side under the tree. Shin slid down until his head rested against the bark and let his eyes fall shut. The smell of earth and grass settled around him; the wind brought something faintly floral. The leaves overhead cut out most of the light, their shadows drifting back and forth across his face. Sasuke glanced sideways.

Shin lay there like he'd fallen asleep, his face as calm as it always was. For Sasuke, who had lost everything, Shin was the last thing he had. The only friend. His hand closed into a fist. …… Something woke Shin — a beak, jabbing at his nose. He opened his eyes and found a pigeon perched on his chest. Coal-black, with large dark eyes staring down at him. Unsettling up close. There was a rolled slip of paper tied to its leg, no thicker than a finger. Something about it was wrong. He untied the paper.

The black pigeon spread its wings and was gone. Shin didn't wake Sasuke. He unrolled the slip. A life grown weary. The Uchiha will have no future. I can no longer go against my convictions. — Shisui Uchiha. His brow tightened. He'd spent enough time with Shisui to know the man's handwriting. Forging it wouldn't be hard — but what was the point? Who would send this, and why to him? Could this be Danzō... Evening.

He made up a quick excuse and slipped out of the house, heading back to the knife shop from the night before. The owner's face brightened when he saw who it was. He leaned against the counter and raised a hand in greeting.

"What can I do for you today?" Shin scanned the shop and walked to the counter.

"The girl who was here last night. Do you know her?" The owner's smile grew. He shook his head.

"Sorry, I don't sell girls."

"Sōen Kuriyama. You know who she is?"

"Sōen." The owner's smile didn't shift.

"Sure, we know each other well. She owes me a fair amount of money, actually. Are you paying it back for her?"

"How much does she owe?"

"Not much. About seven hundred thousand ryo." Shin cleared his throat.

"Right. So — do you know where she lives?" The owner burst out laughing.

"Got a thing for Sōen, have you?" His grin had a foxlike edge.

"I could help you out. I know quite a lot about her. Interested?"

"... I just want her address."

"One day and you're already going to a girl's home. That's fast." The owner shook his head mournfully.

"If you're going at all, you should bring a gift. We have some lovely wakizashi in stock, if you're looking." They went around in circles for a few more minutes before the owner finally gave him what he came for, and Shin left under the man's entertained gaze. The address led him to a small house. The nameplate on the wall said Kuriyama. This was it. The house wasn't large — two rooms and a common area at most, tucked into one of Konoha's busier stretches, surrounded by storefronts and a restaurant and a sake bar.

He stepped up to the door. Hesitated. Knocked.

"Coming!" A woman's voice from inside. The door opened. A girl in a white sleeping yukata stood in the frame, hair loose, feet bare, still carrying the smell of shampoo from a recent bath.

"You?" Sōen stared at him.

"Why are you here?" She stood with her arms crossed, not inviting him in, not moving.

"I wanted to ask," he said, managing an awkward smile.

"Do you know someone named Yuki Kuriyama?"

"Yuki Kuriyama?" Sōen's eyes narrowed. She looked at him oddly.

"She took the name Takami later." Something shifted in Sōen's expression. Recognition settled in. She looked at him for a moment, then gave a small nod.

"There's a resemblance." A resemblance. Shin turned that over. To his mother, presumably. Mikoto Uchiha had said the same thing once — that he looked remarkably like her.

"Come in." Sōen stepped aside. He left his shoes at the door and followed her to the living room. The house was as small as it looked: the main room, a bedroom off to one side, a kitchen, one door that was probably the bathroom. Small, but tidy. Warm.

"Sit." She pointed at the couch. She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with two cups of tea, set one in front of him, and settled across from him with her own.

"You're Shin Takami." She blew on the tea before sipping. Shin nodded.

"You've probably worked out the connection. Your mother was my aunt — that makes me your cousin. You should be calling me nee-san." She tilted her chin up slightly, then her gaze moved to a framed photo on the table against the wall. A young woman with a warm, beautiful smile, crouched down beside a small girl of two or three. Shin looked at the photo and couldn't move his eyes from it. There wasn't a single photo of his parents at his house.

"Given that we're cousins, I'll forgive you for last night." Sōen set her cup down. Shin held his tea with both hands and said nothing.

"You're young. Why aren't you making better choices?" Sōen sighed, slipping into something between older sister and lecturing elder.

"Running after girls at your age. You should be focused on your training."

"I'm..." Shin tried.

"Top of my class."

"And? Does being top of your class mean you can do whatever you want?" Shin looked at this girl — two years older, the same face he'd recognized, nothing else matching at all — and didn't say a word. He'd been fooling himself. She wasn't here. Of course she wasn't. He looked back at his tea and felt the hollow in his chest settle somewhere quieter.

"Hey! Are you listening to me?" Sōen's voice sharpened.

"I'm listening." She gave him a long look, then — before she could say anything further — knocking at the door. Sōen shot him a look and went to answer it.

"Sōen-nee, this is the miso soup my mom wanted to send over." A girl's voice. Shin turned. Standing in the doorway was a girl around his own age, distinctly dressed — a pale pink qipao-style top and cross-collar upper garment, her hair in two buns on either side of her head.

"Thank you, Tenten. Tell your mom thank you too." Sōen took the pot with a real smile.

"Sōen-nee, do you have company?" Then Tenten looked past her and saw who was sitting inside.

"Shin?" Shin was a year below her, but his name had made it through the whole school. The girls in her class talked about him — said he was kind, that he was gentle, that he was nothing like Neji.

"You know each other?" Sōen looked between them.

"Right — you're both at the Academy. Same year?"

"I'm one year above Shin."

"Want to come in and sit?" Sōen asked, watching Tenten's face with obvious interest. Tenten wavered. But she kept looking past Sōen at him. What is he doing here? What is he to Sōen-nee?

"No, I really shouldn't." She shook her head and bowed.

"I'll come back for the pot later, Sōen-nee." She turned and left. Sōen carried the pot into the kitchen and came out a few minutes later with two bowls, handed one to Shin.

"Thank you." He took it, turned the bowl in his hands.

"Do you live alone?"

"I do." She pulled her legs up on the couch, took a sip, and nodded.

"You didn't say hello to Tenten," Sōen remarked. Shin shook his head. He barely knew anyone outside his own year — and within the graduating class, the only name he could put to a face was Neji Hyuga.

"Tenten's sweet." Sōen had a knowing look on her face.

"Want me to introduce you?" Shin smiled faintly, thinking: didn't you just finish telling me I was too young for that. He drank his soup — it was good, and he told her so — and they talked for a while longer. By the time he said he should go, the hour had grown late. Sōen walked him to the door. He put his shoes on. Stood.

"Actually." Shin turned around. He looked straight at her.

"What?" A faint trace of amusement.

"I..." He opened his mouth. Everything he'd carried here went back down.

"Spit it out." She held his gaze, disguising the fact that his expression unsettled her with impatience.

"Nothing. Goodnight."