"How many are to become genin this year?" Akura's voice echoed across the nearly empty chamber, the sound bouncing between the walls of the office. The room had only one wide desk, piled with mission reports, promotion requests, exam documents and other stuff. No windows were open, yet the stale air still carried a weight of formality.
"Fifteen will participate in the exams, but we expect only six to pass..." came the calm response from the recently promoted jonin standing before him. The man bore the Takime clan's symbol proudly on his back. His voice was even, but the respectful tone still unmistakeable.
"If only six are truly ready to take on genin responsibilities..." Akura muttered, leaning back in his seat, "...then why are we even letting the other nine attempt the test?"
The jonin didn't reply. He knew better. That hadn't been a question meant for him, just a stray thought escaping aloud. A few seconds of silence passed before Akura spoke again, his eyes still locked on the stack of exam forms.
"Alright. All fifteen will participate - experience is valuable. But out of the nine, only those who volunteered on their own may pass, the rest will be failed no matter how well they perform."
"Understood," the jonin said, offering a short bow before turning to leave. The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Akura alone once more in the sea of paperwork.
'We don't lack capable shinobi anymore… the kids must take their time, we should not push them to mature early…'
He exhaled through his nose, his eyes landing on the pile of papers.
'So much work…' he groaned internally, reaching for a new stack of reports, this one bearing the Shegachi clan's seal, and was just about to dive in when the sound of distant shouting pulled his attention.
The noise was strange. Not violent, but loud. The Takime compound was rarely this animated. Even the children were calmer compared to the other clans.
'What's happening now?' Akura stood abruptly, energy returning to his limbs the moment a justified excuse to escape paperwork presented itself. He slipped his arms into his vest, moving toward the door at a brisk pace. Though his motives weren't entirely noble, a flicker of concern did creep into his mind. The compound was the most secure part of Takimura. For it to grow this noisy, something unusual had to be happening.
He pushed the door open and stepped out into the courtyard.
Dozens of shinobi were gathered - some whispering excitedly, others simply staring - and in the center of the crowd stood a young man. A hush passed through the crowd as more eyes turned toward him.
He wore a dark, intricate robe that hung loosely around his shoulders, open in the front and swaying with the breeze. The Takime clan symbol was carved on his back, the cyan lines adorning the robe on the sides. Despite the relaxed fit, his physique was unmistakably honed - lean muscle shaping the shirt he was wearing. His long, dark blue hair was tied neatly behind him, and as he turned his head, the vivid cyan glow of his eyes landed squarely on Akura.
A grin broke across his face.
'He's grown,' was the first thing Akura thought, stunned by how much the boy's presence had changed.
Before he could offer a bow or speak the customary greeting, Kaoru was already moving. In a blur, he crossed the space between them and pulled the older man into a firm, sudden hug.
"Can't you let me be Kaoru just for today, Akura-san?" he said with a laugh, not letting Akura act the way he was supposed to in front of the clan head.
Akura froze for a breath, caught off-guard, but then smiled and clapped him on the back, chuckling. "Haha… you can have today all to yourself."
As the crowd eased, still watching in awe, Akura stepped back and studied the boy - no, the young man - who now stood before him. The cyan in Kaoru's eyes hadn't dimmed. If anything, it burned even brighter.
'Isn't he barely fourteen now?' Akura thought. 'And yet… his presence feels like that of a full-grown war veteran. That aura… it's too different.'
Something had changed.
But before Akura could dwell on it, before he could fully register the depth of presence now radiating from Kaoru, a dull thud cut through the murmurs of the gathered crowd.
A figure had landed.
Wearing a cloak, a young woman stood at the center of the courtyard, her arrival so sudden and direct that even the chatter of curious onlookers stilled in her presence. The cloak's hem fluttered briefly, stirred by the impact, and then settled as the woman straightened. She didn't glance at anyone. She didn't acknowledge the half-bows or the respectful murmurs.
She moved forward, practically running, as she pushed past the crowd parting instinctively before her.
Maki, the Suikage of Takimura, didn't wait for ceremony.
She charged at Kaoru without hesitation and wrapped her arms around him, practically leaping into his chest.
The crowd didn't gasp. No one took offense. No one whispered criticism. If anything, the Takime looked away or smiled faintly, glassy-eyed, as if witnessing something sacred. Maki, who once ruffled his hair and called him a brat, now buried her head in his chest, hands trembling as they gripped the back of his robe.
She was confirming it for herself. That he was real. That he was here.
That her baby brother had come home.
"It took you too long," she whispered, voice rough and wet with held-back sobs. Her cheek pressed to his chest, wiping away the streak of tears that had begun to fall freely.
"I'm back now," Kaoru murmured, not letting go. If anything, his arms only tightened, drawing her closer. The muscles in his arms, hardened through months of relentless training, tensed slightly, holding her gently.
Maki let out a short laugh between sniffles, finally pulling back just enough to look up at him. "Haha… you've got gorilla arms now, Ru."
Kaoru smiled at that. A proper, bright smile that made the edges of his eyes crease. He'd grown taller than her. She had to tilt her head slightly to meet his gaze, and the realization struck her harder than she expected. Gone was the small boy she used to drag around the village. What stood before her now was a young man, but still unmistakably her baby brother.
Still, something in his eyes gave him away. Even beneath the smile, the darkness lingered.
So Maki leaned in closer, brushing back the strands of dark blue hair that had loosened during the hug. Her lips moved near his ear, her voice barely more than a breath.
"She's safe. I'll tell you everything later. But for now… please, smile like you mean it."
Kaoru stiffened, a sharp gasp catching in his throat.
A knot he didn't realize he'd been carrying unraveled all at once, and the weight in his chest - months of uncertainty, silence, and dread - seemed to loosen. His eyes burned, but he blinked quickly, swallowing it all down.
He wanted to ask her everything. Where? How? Why didn't she write back? But he forced himself to breathe instead. He had waited a year. He could wait a few more hours.
With visible effort, he steadied his expression and gave her a small nod, eyes finally matching the warmth of his grin.
"Let's go," Maki said softly, slipping her hand into his and giving it a firm tug. "It's time to see your sensei. You've got a lot of people to meet."
She turned on her heel, dragging him through the still-parted crowd.
…
"Maki, why are we here?" Kaoru asked, confused, as they approached the weathered wooden door of Yko's workshop. "Yko-san told me he couldn't find her… not even with the notebook."
Maki didn't respond immediately. Her steps didn't slow, but her eyes darted toward him, just a glance. A guilty one.
"Yko told you some white lies," she admitted quietly.
Kaoru stopped in his tracks. His expression hardened, eyes widening.
"What?"
"I ordered him to lie," she said simply. "Because if you had learned the truth back then, I know you would've done something reckless."
Kaoru's breath caught. His mind began racing, anxiety and betrayal twisting into a sharp ache in his chest.
"What truth?" he asked, the words slipping out more panicked than he'd intended.
"Calm down," Maki said gently, resting her hand on the door handle. "She's safe, Ru. Yko will explain everything."
She opened the door and stepped into the room.
Kaoru remained outside for a moment, staring at the threshold as if it were a wall he wasn't sure he wanted to cross. His fists clenched at his sides. His cheerful mood, his ease and warmth from earlier… it was gone. What remained was fury, tightly bottled and hissing under pressure.
'They lied to me.'
He had trusted Maki. He had trusted Yko. And both had decided he didn't deserve the truth.
If it had been any other day, if he hadn't just returned, if the scent of home and the warmth of his sister's embrace weren't still fresh in his senses, he might have exploded. But months of brutal training under Iseki and Ogashi had carved patience into him, however imperfect. He drew a breath, stepped inside, and shut the door behind him.
The first thing he saw was red.
Yko's flaming hair bowed so low it nearly touched the floor. His hands were planted firmly on his knees, his voice trembling but sincere.
"I know I betrayed your trust," Yko said, without raising his head. "And for that, I apologize. But I don't regret it."
Kaoru didn't answer. He didn't move, eyes locked on Yko.
"Please," he finally said. "Tell me where Mizuki is."
He didn't care about apologies. There was only one thing he wanted.
Yko straightened slowly, face taut with guilt.
"The notebook you gave her was damaged. Or at least, the seals on it were," he explained. "We tried everything to reestablish the link, but nothing worked. That means the issue is with the notebook, not Mizuki."
Kaoru's eyes narrowed further. "So that's all we know?" he asked, voice rising, anger breaking through. "You told me she was safe, Maki! And now you're saying…"
"She is safe," another voice interrupted.
It came from the back of the room - a deep, composed voice that cut through Kaoru's anger like.
An old man stepped forward from behind one of the workbenches. He had a long white beard, hair flowing past his shoulders.
"My idiot student has a tendency to go overboard when he's excited," the old man said, nodding toward Yko. "When he created the necklace you gave to the girl, he embedded a fragment of that mineral, the one Takimura now uses for communication."
Kaoru blinked, confused. "The mineral from the rings?"
"Yes," the old man confirmed. "He was planning to enhance it later, to allow communication through the necklace itself. But he never finished it. However, he did manage one thing."
Yko stepped in again, speaking quickly.
"I added a passive feature to the necklace. Its active only when in direct contact with Mizuki's chakra. And…" He swallowed hard. "It's still active. It took us almost a year, but we managed to form a link. That means she's alive. She's wearing it. The connection is weak, but stable."
Kaoru exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and tension spiraling inside him.
"I might be able to create a one-time signal," Yko continued. "A voice. An image. Something simple that could reach her. But it would destroy the necklace entirely. The mineral inside is too unstable, I didn't know back then…"
Kaoru fell silent, staring at the floor. Emotions swirled through him like a storm, each thought heavier than the last. Hope. Fear. Relief. Loss. It was all too much.
Then, slowly, he looked up.
"If she's still safe," he said quietly, "I want her to keep the necklace. As a last resort. Just in case."
"Understood," Yko said softly, bowing his head. "Kaoru…"
"Not today." Kaoru's voice was clipped, final. He didn't spare a glance back. His footsteps echoed across the wooden floor as he walked away, each one steady but heavy with disappointment.
The door creaked open, then shut behind him.
Maki rushed after him, catching up the moment he stepped into the courtyard. Her hand shot out, grabbing his shoulder.
"Ru, I know you're angry," she said firmly. "But I'd do it again. You were losing control…"
Kaoru stopped.
He turned slowly, and for a moment, it looked like he might shout. But instead, he simply looked at her. His eyes were steady, the rage inside held down like a lid on a boiling pot.
"Maki," he said quietly, "don't lose my trust."
The words weren't loud. But they cut deep.
He gave her a faint smile - fragile, like something he didn't have the strength to hold for long. Then the smile vanished, replaced by the cold fire in his gaze.
"I'm following Shin sensei on the mission you assigned him today."
Maki blinked, unsure if she heard him right.
Kaoru stepped back, slipping out of her grasp.
"I need to let off some steam."
And just like that, he was gone, his cloak fluttering behind him like a shadow unbound.
**
I hope you will enjoy the new edge to Kaoru's personality :3
My vacation house happened to be a little too close to the wildfire and I had no electrity / internet... had no choice but to return back to the city and because of that missed Saturday's chapter
The Next Chapter on Thursday
----------------------------------
If you can, please support me on P@treon
pat reon.com/azureawakening
(no space)
You can read up to 21 chapters ahead on P@treon!
The link is also in the synopsis