The wooden tray was awkward to balance, four bowls of stew threatening to slosh over the edges as Tsume picked her way through what used to be the outpost's main thoroughfare. The place looked like a giant had used it as a punching bag—half the market stalls were nothing but splinters and torn canvas, a few overturned carts sat abandoned with their contents scattered across the dirt, and someone's laundry line had been turned into what looked like a very sad art installation.
"Stay close, Kuromaru," she muttered, glancing down at the black puppy trotting beside her. His nose was working overtime, probably cataloguing every new scent the raid had left behind. "And don't go sniffing any of the gross stuff."
He whined softly, ears twitching at something she couldn't hear.
The weird part was how... normal everything still felt. Sure, there were scorch marks on a few walls and dark stains in the dirt that she tried not to think about too hard, but most of the buildings were still standing. The dining pavilion where she'd gotten the stew was already back to serving food. People were walking around like nothing had happened, sweeping up debris and hammering loose boards back into place.
A pair of chunin trudged past, dragging something wrapped in a tarp between them. One of them nodded at her as they passed, like hauling dead bodies was just another Tuesday morning chore.
'Hope this doesn't kill everyone's appetite,' she thought, glancing down at the stew bowls.
The smell hit her before she reached the medical building—blood, antiseptic, and something sour that made her nose scrunch up automatically. Through the open doorway, she caught glimpses of people lying on cots, medic-nin moving between them with green-glowing hands. A few groans and quiet conversations drifted out, mixing with the sound of her sandals on the packed earth.
She quickened her pace, Kuromaru practically glued to her ankle. Neither of them was big on hanging around hospitals. Too many sad smells and people trying not to cry.
Their temporary quarters looked exactly the same as when she'd left—boring wooden building, boring wooden door, boring everything. But at least it smelled like home instead of blood and fear.
"I'm back," she called, pushing through the door with her hip. "And I brought—"
She stopped. Only one futon was occupied, and it definitely wasn't either of her teammates. Tsunade was sprawled on her bedroll, hair mussed and looking like she'd barely gotten any sleep. She had that heavy-eyed look of someone who'd been fighting Suna operatives half the night.
"Breakfast?" Tsunade asked, eyeing the tray like a wolf.
"Lunch, actually. I think." Tsume set the tray down carefully and handed one of the bowls to her sensei, noting the tired lines around her eyes. "Cook said it's meat stew. Smells decent."
Tsunade accepted the bowl and took a sip. "Could be worse."
Kuromaru flopped down beside Tsume's feet, nose still twitching. She grabbed her own bowl and sat down, immediately shoveling stew into her mouth. Fighting apparently made her hungry. Who knew?
"How's the cleanup going?" Tsunade asked between bites.
"Messy, mostly. Lotta sweeping. Some repairs. Chunin doing most of it." Tsume tilted her head toward the window without really looking. "Saw a few of them hauling bodies earlier. A lot of bodies. More than eight, I think."
She paused. "You think they'll come back?"
"Unlikely," Tsunade said, chewing. "This was a hit-and-run, not an invasion—and they got what they came for."
Another bite.
"Next time, it'll be somewhere else."
That was... not particularly comforting. Tsume focused on her food instead of thinking about 'next time.'
"You handled yourself well last night, by the way," Tsunade said out of nowhere.
"Huh?"
"Your first real combat situation. Not bad for a genin. Most rookies freeze up or do something stupid. You kept your head."
Heat crept up the back of Tsume's neck. She wasn't sure, but that might've been the first time her sensei had actually complimented her.
"Kuromaru helped," she muttered. "He's good at sniffing out trouble."
Right on cue, the puppy's tail gave a single wag.
"Still counts. Working with your ninken takes skill." Tsunade paused, then added with a slight smirk, "And you didn't run off and try to fight a jonin by yourself like a certain someone."
"About that..." Tsume glanced around the empty room. "Where are Shinji and Mikoto? I brought them food too."
Tsunade shrugged, scooping another spoonful of stew. "Your teammate dragged Mikoto off somewhere. Had that look on his face like he was definitely up to something."
"What kind of look?"
"The kind that ends with me filling out paperwork. Kid strikes me as the type who stirs the pot just to see what floats to the top."
Tsume polished off the rest of her stew in record time, practically inhaling the last few bites. Whatever they were up to, she wasn't about to miss it. And someone had to make sure those two actually ate.
"I'm gonna go find them," she said, setting the bowl aside and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
"Try not to let him blow anything up," Tsunade called after her.
"Okay!"
Kuromaru sprang to his feet and bounded after her, tail wagging like he'd just been told they were going on a real hunt—even if this one was for teammates instead of dinner.
The outpost wasn't huge, but it had enough nooks and crannies to hide two genin if they really wanted to disappear. Tsume checked the obvious places first—the dining pavilion, the market area, even the workshop where Shinji had apparently demolished a tokubetsu jonin the night before. Nothing.
A few people had seen them heading toward the eastern edge of the settlement, so she followed that lead, Kuromaru trotting beside her with his nose working constantly. The puppy was picking up their scent trail, she could tell from the way his ears perked up every few steps.
"Good boy," she murmured, scratching behind his ears. "Lead the way."
The sounds of hammering and conversation faded as they moved away from the main settlement. Out here, the damage from the raid was lighter—mostly just scattered debris and a few broken fence posts. Trees pressed closer to the buildings, creating patches of shade that felt cooler than the open areas.
That's when she heard it. Voices, faint but definitely familiar. And... laughter?
Kuromaru's tail started wagging faster as they rounded a cluster of ruined buildings. Through the gaps between the structures, Tsume caught a glimpse of water reflecting sunlight.
The pond. Of course. It was probably the most peaceful spot in the whole outpost, tucked away at the eastern edge where the trees grew right up to the water. Perfect place to escape the chaos of cleanup.
She slowed, her steps fading into the grass. It felt like she was walking in on something private.
Through the trees, she spotted them near the water's edge. Shinji had his back to her, talking with both hands like he was trying to explain something complicated. Mikoto stood beside him—close enough their shoulders nearly touched—nodding along, her eyes on him.
Both of them were smiling.
Fragments of their conversation floated across the water—something about chakra flow and breathing. Mikoto moved her hands as she spoke. Shinji nodded, looking like he was still working it out.
Mikoto's voice carried again, sharper this time. She was correcting him gently, saying something about how most people forced it, and how that only made it weaker. There was more—something about letting go—but Tsume barely caught it.
She crept closer, Kuromaru silent at her side. Whatever they were figuring out, it sounded important.
"And don't forget the hand seals..." Mikoto said, raising her hands to demonstrate.
"Got it." Shinji followed her lead, fingers folding into each shape. "Horse... tiger."
Tsume was maybe twenty feet away now. Close enough to see the concentration tightening across Shinji's face. Close enough to catch the way Mikoto stepped back, just slightly, giving him space.
Close enough to see him take a deep breath, puff out his cheeks, and—
A stream of fire erupted from his mouth, arcing across the water in a brilliant orange-red ribbon. The flames hit the pond's surface and spread outward, turning the entire lake into a shimmering sea of fire that reflected the sun like molten copper.
Tsume practically exploded from the treeline.
"Holy hounds!" she yelled, all thoughts of sneaking forgotten. "Shinji, you can breathe fire?!"
Kuromaru barked excitedly, racing toward the water as if he wanted to chase the flames.
Both her teammates spun around—Shinji still wiping his mouth while Mikoto laughed at the expression on Tsume's face.
Tsume skidded to a stop at the edge of the pond, staring at the last ripples flickering across the surface. Her eyes were wide. "When did you learn to do that? How did you learn to do that? Can you teach me?"
Shinji ticked off answers on his fingers. "About five minutes ago. Mikoto's an excellent teacher. And... we'll see."
"You actually taught him fire jutsu?" Tsume turned to stare at Mikoto. "Isn't that supposed to be, like, super hard?"
Mikoto shrugged, trying to play it off—but the proud look in her eyes gave her away. "He's got great chakra control. And he actually listens when I'm explaining stuff."
"Most of the time," Shinji added.
"Some of the time," Mikoto corrected.
"Occasionally."
"When it suits him."
Tsume glanced between them, then down at the pond. "This is so unfair. I've been trying to get Kuromaru to do a proper combo attack for weeks, and you just casually learn to spit fire like it's no big deal."
"To be fair," Shinji said, "spitting fire is a really big deal. I'm pretty excited about it myself."
Kuromaru, apparently deciding the show was over, had returned to sniffing around the pond's edge—probably hunting for fish now that the water wasn't on fire.
"Can you do it again?" Tsume asked, bouncing slightly on her toes. "That was amazing!"
"Maybe later. Don't want to accidentally set the whole outpost on fire." Shinji stretched his arms over his head, looking satisfied with himself. "Though I have to admit, that was pretty fun."
"Fun?" Tsume stared at him. "You just breathed fire! That's not fun, that's... that's..."
"Awesome?" Mikoto suggested.
"Dangerous?" Shinji added.
"Both!" Tsume threw her hands up in the air. "Definitely both!"
She plopped down on a nearby rock, still grinning. "Seriously though, that was incredible. Do it again!"
"Maybe later," he said, wiping his mouth. "Don't want to accidentally boil all the fish."
"There are fish in there?" Tsume peered into the water hopefully.
"Probably scared them all to the other side," Mikoto said with a laugh.
Sure enough, Kuromaru had spotted a few darting toward the far end of the pond and was now racing along the shore, barking like he could catch them through sheer enthusiasm.
"You know," Tsume said, watching her ninken's frantic chase, "this mission is nothing like what I thought it'd be."
"Right?" Mikoto settled beside the water's edge. "I thought we'd just be walking with some farmers for a few days—maybe deal with a bandit if we got lucky."
"Yeah, instead we got hit with a full-on raid," Shinji said, flicking a stone across the pond. "Including a jonin who thought my neck was a stress ball."
Tsume leaned back on her hands, squinting at the sky. "I wonder what the other teams are doing right now. Bet they're still stuck doing boring D-ranks back in the village."
"Probably helping old ladies with their groceries," Mikoto said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Or painting fences," Shinji added. "Lots and lots of fences."
"Think any of them have fought real enemies yet?" Tsume asked.
"Doubt it. We just got... lucky. Or unlucky. Depends on how you feel about near-death experiences. Most jonin don't throw genin into the deep end like this." Shinji flicked another stone across the water. "Miyabi's team's probably still training somewhere in Konoha."
"Maybe they're the lucky ones," Mikoto murmured after a pause. "This has been… intense."
Kuromaru had wandered over to the edge of the pond, nose twitching as he tried to figure out where the last fish had gone. A few sniffs, a paw in the water—and splash! He swatted something up onto the shore and pinned it to the dirt with one paw. The fish flopped beneath him, still twitching.
"I'm totally bragging about this when we get back," Tsume said, watching Kuromaru sniff around his prize, tail wagging like he'd just won a war. "Real combat, a full-blown raid... we're gonna sound like legends."
"If we live to tell them," Shinji said dryly.
"Oh!" Tsume suddenly straightened, remembering why she'd been looking for them in the first place. "I brought you guys food! It's back with Tsunade-sensei. You should come eat before it gets cold."
At the word food, Kuromaru's ears perked straight up. He wagged his tail eagerly, gulping down the last bit of fish head like it was proof he'd earned a second course.
"Food sounds good," Shinji said, stretching. "All this exercise worked up an appetite."
They made their way back through the settlement, Kuromaru trotting ahead while the three of them fell into easy conversation.
"So what do you think happens when we get back to the village?" Mikoto asked, stepping over some scattered debris. "Do we just... go back to regular missions?"
"Probably," Tsume said. "Though after this, carrying groceries for old ladies is gonna feel pretty boring."
"Hey, don't knock grocery missions," Shinji said. "Some of those old ladies tip really well. Plus, you learn which shops have the best deals."
"You actually pay attention to grocery prices?" Mikoto looked at him with surprise.
"Course I do. Good ingredients don't come cheap, and my cooking budget is serious business." He grinned. "Besides, you never know when knowing the best fish vendor might save your life."
Tsume frowned. "Okay, but how the hell would knowing fish prices ever save your life?"
"Easy. Say you're undercover and need to blend in at a market. If you haggle wrong or pick the obviously overpriced tourist trap, you'll blow your cover as a local."
"...Huh." Mikoto blinked. "That... actually kind of makes sense."
"Told you. Everything's useful if you think hard enough." He shrugged.
They reached their quarters to find Tsunade still sitting where Tsume had left her, but now she had a small stack of books and a scroll laid out on the table. Their food bowls sat nearby, still steaming.
"About time," Tsunade said as they filed in. "Eat up. We need to talk after."
Tsume settled down beside her empty bowl while Mikoto and Shinji grabbed theirs and started eating. The stew was still warm, and after the morning they'd had, even simple food seemed to hit the spot.
"So what did you want to talk about, sensei?" Shinji asked between bites.
"You three are heading back to Konoha," she said bluntly. "This afternoon."
Mikoto blinked. "Wait, just us? What about you, sensei?"
Tsunade's mouth tugged to the side. "I'm staying. They need a medic here, and with tensions escalating..." She shrugged. "Could be a while before I make it back."
"How long is 'a while'?" Tsume asked, pausing mid-chew.
"Hard to say. Days, maybe weeks. Depends on how things develop with Suna and River Country."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Tsume could see the disappointment on her teammates' faces—they'd just started getting some training from their sensei, and now she was staying behind.
Tsunade seemed to notice it too. She pushed the books toward Shinji. "These are medical texts. Basic anatomy, and some beginner healing techniques. Study them while I'm gone."
Shinji picked up one of the books, flipping through pages covered in detailed diagrams. "You want me to learn this stuff on my own?"
"You've got the control for it. And you're not an idiot." She tapped the book beside the scroll. "That one's got my notes. Problems I ran into starting out, stuff to watch for. If you want hands-on practice, head to the hospital. They'll set you up."
Then her gaze shifted to Mikoto. Then to Tsume. For a second, her expression softened—something like guilt flickering in her eyes.
"I know I haven't taught you two as much as I should've," she said quietly. "When I get back to Konoha… we'll fix that. I promise."
"It's not your fault," Mikoto said quickly. "None of us saw this coming. The mission got messy, and you've been dealing with way more than any of us were prepared for."
"Still, you're my students. I should've done better by you."
Tsume set down her empty bowl, trying to ignore the strange feeling building in her chest. Just a few days ago, she wasn't even sure she wanted a sensei. Now the thought of going back to mission without Tsunade felt... kind of awful.
"Will you be okay here by yourself?" she asked.
Tsunade snorted. "Kid, I was doing live missions before you were born. I'll be fine." She paused, and her expression softened just a little. "But thanks for asking."
Kuromaru had finished pacing the room and now settled beside Tsume's feet, tail thumping once before going still. He seemed to pick up on the shift in mood.
"So this afternoon?" Shinji asked, still looking through the medical books.
"The sooner the better." At the door, she paused and glanced back at them. "For what it's worth... you all did good out there tonight."
And just like that, she was gone.
The three of them sat there in silence for a long moment.
"Well," Shinji said at last, closing the book, "that's that, I guess."
"Ah—Shinji." Tsunade's voice came from just outside the door. Not shouting, but loud enough for all of us to hear. "Come with me."
Mikoto and Tsume both glanced over with raised brows. I shrugged and stood up. "Pack your gear," I told them. "I'll be back in a bit."
Kuromaru's tail thumped against the floor as I headed for the door, like he was saying goodbye.
Outside, Tsunade was already walking toward the eastern edge of the settlement. She moved with her hands tucked into her pockets, not looking back to see if I was following. I caught up easily enough, matching her pace as we wound between buildings.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
"Maybe. We'll see."
Right. Super comforting.
The tavern she led me to was tucked between a supply depot and what looked like a carpenter's workshop. Small, quiet, with weathered wooden walls and a sign so faded I couldn't make out what it said. The kind of place that probably served lukewarm sake and day-old rice balls to whoever was desperate enough to wander in.
Inside, it was even sadder than I expected. Dim lighting. Empty tables. The air smelled like spilled booze and old timber. The only guy around was the owner—a graying man behind the bar, polishing glasses with the kind of focus people fake when they want to be left alone.
"Afternoon," he said, giving us a slow nod. "What can I get you?"
"Two cups of your best sake," Tsunade said, settling onto a stool at the bar. "And some privacy."
"Of course." His expression went blank in a way that made my skin crawl. His hands moved almost too smoothly as he reached for a bottle on the shelf, like he was sleepwalking through muscle memory.
I widened my eyes, studying his face more carefully. His gaze was unfocused, dull—like he was looking through us instead of at us. And something about the way he moved felt off, like he was going through the motions without really being there.
Genjutsu.
Tsunade caught my expression and nodded slightly. "He won't remember this conversation," she said quietly. "Or that we were here."
The man set two cups in front of us, then drifted to the far end of the bar, still polishing the same glass like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
I sat down beside her. "Okay. Now I'm definitely curious."
She picked up her cup but didn't drink yet. Instead, she studied me for a long moment, like she was trying to figure out how much to tell me.
"Do you know what a storage seal is?" she asked finally.
"Yeah. Chakra-based storage system. You can store objects in a sealed space and retrieve them later." I tilted my head. "Why?"
"Good. That saves me some explaining." She reached into her jacket and pulled out what looked like a black leather glove. The palm was covered in intricate markings—swirling lines, geometric shapes, and kanji characters.
She set it on the bar. "Put it on."
I picked it up, feeling the smooth leather and the slight warmth radiating from the sealwork. It fit perfectly over my left hand, the markings aligning with my palm as if they'd been custom-made.
"There's a scroll sealed inside," Tsunade said, voice lower now. "Only Jiraiya can open it. Anyone else tries, the seal triggers and the whole thing burns."
My stomach dropped.
"You want me to deliver it to him," I said. Tried not to sound like I was groaning through my teeth.
"Yes." She finally took a sip of her sake, watching my reaction carefully. "He's currently in the Land of Hot Water, gathering intelligence. You'll find him at the hot springs resort in Yugakure."
I stared down at the glove, running my thumb over the seal markings. Part of me wanted to refuse. But I couldn't. This was clearly important, and Tsunade was trusting me with something serious.
"How do I open it?" I asked.
"Channel chakra into the seal," she said. "Anything stored inside will be released. To store something, just press it against the seal and focus while you channel chakra. The seal handles the rest." She reached out. "Here, I'll show you. Give me your hand."
I rested my hand in hers. That faint hum of chakra resonance—like we'd practiced—came rushing back. I watched as her chakra traced a flowing pattern across her palm, hovering just short of the seal.
"You try," she said. "No rush. You've got a few hours to kill before heading back to Konoha."
"Please. This is easy."
"Uh-huh. Sure."
I focused, studying the seal's pattern. The chakra flow had to be precise—too much and the seal could overload, too little and nothing would happen. I could feel the different pathways carved into the leather, each one requiring a specific amount of chakra channeled at exactly the right frequency. Most people probably needed days of practice to get the balance right.
I channeled my chakra, letting it flow through the markings in the exact pattern Tsunade had demonstrated.
A scroll popped out first. Then a sake bottle. Then—what the hell—a half-eaten onigiri rolled across the counter and bumped my cup.
Tsunade just stared at me.
"…You actually pulled it off on the first try," she muttered, blinking once. "Okay. That's mildly annoying."
I grinned. "Told you."
She looked at the onigiri like it personally offended her. "Why was that even in there?"
"No idea. Wasn't mine." I nudged the rice ball away with one finger, then frowned as the scroll bumped into the bottle. "Wait. Everything comes out at once? I can't pick?"
"It's a basic storage seal, kid. What did you expect?" she said dryly.
I gave her a flat look. "Something a little more... selective? What if I need to store multiple things?"
Tsunade laughed—actually laughed—like I'd just asked for a personal summon contract and a promotion in the same sentence. "If you want that kind of luxury, get an Uzumaki to make you a custom seal. Use my name and they'll only charge you six months' worth of mission pay."
I pouted. "That's highway robbery."
"That's quality craftsmanship. Basic seals work just fine for simple jobs." She grinned at my expression. "Don't worry, there's only one thing in there right now anyway."
"Got it," I muttered. "Still... why not just use a messenger bird?"
She set her cup down. "Because what's inside is sensitive—which is why I'm not using normal channels."
I blinked. A dozen unspoken answers filled in the blanks.
Because birds can be intercepted.
Or killed.
Or because there might be spies in the village reading official messages.
None of those options made me feel any better.
Tsunade poured herself another cup of sake, then topped off mine even though I hadn't touched it yet. "You ever drink sake before, kid?"
"A few times." I picked up the cup, sniffed the cloudy rice wine, and raised a brow. "Huh. Not bad for a backwater tavern in the middle of nowhere."
She snorted. "This isn't good sake. This is barely drinkable sake. But it does the job."
We drank in silence for a moment. It wasn't amazing, but it went down easier than I expected—warm, with a soft burn that lingered in my chest like a slow exhale.
"Kind of weird drinking with my sensei," I said, swirling the liquid in my cup. "Pretty sure this violates some kind of Academy rule about corrupting innocent young minds."
"Innocent?" She gave me a skeptical look. "Right. You probably tried sneaking sips of alcohol before you could even walk properly."
"Hey, I was a very well-behaved kid. Mostly." I grinned. "Though I may have gotten into my fair share of trouble trying to act more grown up than I was."
"You know," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips as she stared into her cup, "when I was your age, I thought sake was the most sophisticated thing in the world. Got caught stealing sips from my grandfather's bottle once. Thought I was being so clever."
I glanced at her. "Did he tan your hide?"
"Surprisingly, no." She smiled faintly. "He sat me down instead and taught me how to drink it properly."
I raised my cup. "Alright, sensei. What's the proper way to drink sake?"
"Slowly," she said. "And with respect—for the time and effort that goes into it."
She took another sip, smaller this time.
"Rice takes time to grow. Brewing takes patience. Good sake reflects months of quiet work by people who actually give a damn."
I nodded, then took a slower, more thoughtful sip. "I get the respect part. But I gotta disagree on the 'slowly' thing."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? And what's your expert opinion on sake consumption, kid?"
"Sometimes you sip it slow to savor it, sure. But sometimes you drink it fast—because life's short, and good moments don't stick around forever." I took another sip, quicker this time. "And if you're drinking with friends, half the fun's in the shared experience. No one wants to be the guy nursing one cup while everyone else is three rounds ahead and singing off-key."
Tsunade gave me a sidelong look. "Spoken like someone who's done this more than a few times. Should I be worried about my genin's drinking habits?"
"Hey, I'm a responsible drinker," I said, lifting my cup. "I just believe in enjoying myself when the moment calls for it. Sometimes the best way to respect something… is to not overthink it."
She swirled the sake in her cup, thoughtful. "You know what? That's not the worst logic I've heard. My grandfather would probably roll in his grave, but still—not terrible."
"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents."
"Right. The same 'man of many talents' who spent twenty minutes figuring out how to fold his bedroll."
I scowled. "That thing has more straps than a torture device. And I got it eventually."
"After Mikoto had to show you." She smirked. "Twice."
"Details," I waved dismissively. "The point is, I'm adaptable. I learn from my mistakes."
Tsunade actually snorted at that. "Adaptable. Right. Very humble too."
"Mock me all you want, but I bet you couldn't have done better with that bedroll when you was my age."
"Kid, I once packed an entire field hospital into three storage scrolls during a retreat. I think I can handle basic camping equipment."
I stared at her. "You're making that up."
"You wish." She finished her cup and set it down with a soft clink. "Anyway, you should get going. Your team's probably wondering what's taking you so long."
I downed the rest of mine in one go, the burn curling through my chest. The glove still felt strange—not tight or uncomfortable. Just… foreign. Like wearing something that remembered someone else.
"Any particular message you want me to give him?" I asked, standing up and adjusting the glove.
"Just tell him it's from me. He'll understand."
I'm sure he will.
We left the tavern together, Tsunade pausing to dismiss the genjutsu with a casual hand sign. The owner blinked, shook his head slightly, and went back to cleaning glasses like nothing had happened.
"Take care of yourself, kid," Tsunade said as we reached the main path. "And try not to get into too much trouble on the way back."
"No promises on that part."
I turned and headed toward our quarters, my thoughts stirring behind every step. The glove. The sealed scroll. The secrecy.
If Tsunade just wanted to pass a message to that bastard, she had easier options—messenger hawks, a jonin courier, even a sealed letter handed off quietly. But this? This was different.
She was deliberately avoiding standard channels. Which meant she didn't trust them.
Spies in the village? Enemy eyes on the mission? Or something about this place she doesn't want bouncing through official reports...
None of the options were good. They were the kind that ended with bodies, fire, and names etched into memorial stones.
I flexed my fingers inside the glove. The leather shifted against my skin—solid, grounded, yet foreign. Whatever she'd locked inside that seal, it mattered. Enough to hand it off to a genin instead of going through proper channels.
That alone raised more questions than I wanted to deal with right now.
By the time I reached our quarters, my teammates were already outside, packs slung over their shoulders, ready to move.
"Everything okay?" Mikoto asked, studying my face.
"Yeah. She just wanted to give me some extra notes about the medical stuff since I'll be studying on my own." I grabbed my pack from inside, checking to make sure I had everything. "Ready to head home?"
"More than ready," Tsume said, tightening the straps on her gear. Kuromaru sat beside her, tail swaying like even he was looking forward to leaving.
We made our way toward the outpost's main gate, where a handful of chunin were watching the entrance. When we reached them, I struck up a casual conversation—mostly just me asking how things were going, cracking a few dumb jokes, the usual small talk. We played our parts well: just a bunch of tired genin eager to get back to the safety of our village.
After a few minutes of harmless chatter, I gave them a lazy wave and turned toward the road.
"Later."
They called out a few goodbyes as we slipped through the gates and into the forest beyond.
The afternoon sun warmed my shoulders as we walked away from the outpost. Behind us, the sounds of hammering and construction gradually faded, replaced by the crunch of leaves under our feet and the occasional rustle of something small moving through the underbrush. The air smelled cleaner out here—pine and earth instead of smoke and sweat.
It felt good to be moving again, even if part of me couldn't shake the feeling that we were leaving something behind.
...
Check out my Patreon to read the latest chapters