Chance Encounter
"The biggest mistake Lord Hashirama ever made was letting you all eat your fill. Don't worry, I won't carry you," Shirō muttered grumpily.
Then, he raised his hands and began forming hand seals.
"What are you doing? You can't use ninjutsu in the village!" the girl beside him panicked.
"Relax, this is fine. Kuchiyose no Jutsu—Summoning Technique!"
With a puff of smoke, a large bird appeared in front of them. Its feathers were neat, but its dull eyes and vacant expression made it look more stupid than majestic.
This was not a true summon, but a puppet-like familiar Shirō had crafted by combining shinobi puppetry techniques with magecraft. Its intelligence was nearly zero, combat ability nonexistent. It only possessed the instinct to fly—enough for travel, not for battle.
"This is… a summoned beast? Why does it look so silly?" the girl asked, blinking.
"Well, something like that. It's only for transportation, so don't think too much about it."
"But is it really okay to use this inside the village?"
"Don't worry, it's fine."
"Anko, really?" she muttered, doubtful.
Seeing her hesitation, Shirō sighed. "If anything happens, I'll take full responsibility. Besides, if you don't go now, you'll actually be late."
She hesitated, then gritted her teeth. "Fine. Let's go."
The two of them leapt onto the bird's back.
"Are we really okay doing this? What if we get caught?"
"What are you afraid of? You're an Uchiha. The Military Police Force is run by your clan. Why would you be scared?"
"But there are clan rules! If they find out, it'll be terrible!"
"Alright, alright—you're already on it. You want to jump off halfway?" Shirō teased. "Look on the bright side. Oh, by the way, I still don't know your name."
"…Fine. It's Miyue Uchiha. What about you?"
"Miyue, huh? Are you related to Uchiha Mikoto?"
"She's my cousin. How do you know her?"
"…Don't get the wrong idea. I've only heard of her. But it's true that I'm teammates with Taichi."
"So? What's your name?"
"Emiya Shirō. You can just call me Shirō-kun."
"That's nice. I envy people with siblings."
"Uh, you've got it wrong. Even though my name's Shirō, I'm the only one left in my family."
"…Strange."
"More or less. Anyway, what year are you in?"
"I'm graduating in two days."
"In two days? So you're a third-year student?"
Shirō frowned. As far as he remembered, the only third-years graduating soon were from his own class. Okita, for example, was one year younger and still had time left. That meant Miyue must be part of the clan-ninja students who hadn't been pushed into early graduation.
"What's wrong? Is there a problem?" Miyue asked, seeing his expression.
"Nothing. Just realized… we should be in the same class."
"The same class? But I've never—" Miyue stopped mid-sentence, realizing why she'd never seen him. "…I'm sorry."
"Hah. You really are different from the usual Uchiha. Why apologize? That's not something you control. Anyway—there's the Academy. Hurry and go."
"Okay."
Still looking guilty, Miyue hopped down. Shirō added lightly, "Really, it's nothing. If you feel bad, just treat me to a meal after your exam."
"Then… okay."
"Which day's the exam? I'll come cheer you on. I can't just eat for free."
"Three days from now. But I really can't chat anymore—I'll be late!" With that, she ran off toward the Academy.
Shirō chuckled, watching her go. "Heh. Besides Obito, there's actually someone like that in the Uchiha Clan. Every person really is different, even when they eat the same rice." Then he turned his head. "Captain Ryūjin, aren't you going to come out already?"
"You brat. Breaking village rules again," came a gruff voice.
Three figures stepped out from the shadows—the Uchiha Police Force.
"Well, it was an emergency, wasn't it? Big Sister will understand. Besides, I'm helping your clan," Shirō replied lazily.
"Hmph. This is the last time!" Captain Ryūjin snapped.
"Yes, yes. You say that every time." Shirō waved them off casually.
"Captain, are we just letting him go?" one of the younger officers asked angrily.
Ryūjin sighed. "Forget it. Pretend we didn't see anything. You'll understand later."
It wasn't the first time Shirō had bent the rules. At first, Ryūjin had tried to restrain him and Kushina whenever they caused trouble—but every time, masked Anbu appeared, watching the red-haired girl like hawks. The message had been clear: hands off.
Ever since then, Ryūjin's most common phrase has become, "This is the last time."
That familiarity was why Shirō had dared summon his strange flying bird inside Konoha. Most of the Police Force knew his connection to Kushina, though newer recruits didn't recognize him. He was borrowing prestige, plain and simple.
Still, he didn't take the bird home. Strolling through the village streets was more relaxing.
"I'm home," he called when he finally returned.
Silence.
"Hm? Nobody's here? Never mind, I'll go train first."
After setting his things down, Shirō went to the training ground. He still hadn't figured out what his swordsmanship lacked. He'd asked Nakamura on the way back, but Nakamura wasn't skilled in kenjutsu and couldn't help. So Shirō could only ponder it himself. That something's missing but I can't name it feeling gnawed at him.
He didn't feel like enduring Might Guy's "youthful" training today, so he decided to try again tomorrow if inspiration didn't come.
He spent the afternoon drilling the sword techniques he'd inherited from Red A's Dryan Mo Xie, mixing them with reinforcement and projection. When tired, he meditated to recover.
By evening, the answer still eluded him. His stomach, however, was loud and clear. He'd only eaten dry rations on the road at noon.
"Guess I'll think about it later. No rush."
He washed up, changed into clean clothes, and headed toward the food street. It was packed this time of day—most stalls catered specifically to shinobi, staying open late for missions.
As he entered the lively avenue, someone called out.
"Eh? Shirō-kun?"
Shirō turned his head toward the voice.