It seemed that his earlier goodwill had not only failed to help, but had instead deepened Shisui's suspicion.
Faced with that reality, Kei no longer felt inclined to argue.
In psychology, there was a term for situations like this 'The Backfire Effect'.
Put simply: you cannot wake someone who is pretending to sleep, just as you cannot easily change a belief someone has already decided to protect.
Shisui appeared mature on the surface, but beneath that composure he was painfully young. His thinking had been thoroughly shaped, perhaps even captured, by the Third Hokage's Will of Fire. That kind of conditioning was not something that could be undone with a few conversations.
At the same time, the escalating tension between clan and village had begun to weigh heavily on him. The calmer he appeared outwardly, the more desperately he clung inwardly to any thread that might promise salvation.
That was why, after hearing Kei speak of inevitable collapse, he refused to let it go.
"I'll be back," Shisui said as Haru approached to escort him out.
He left on his own.
Once again, he had gained nothing.
Standing on a distant rooftop, Shisui stared at the clinic below. The more he replayed their exchanges in his mind, the more he realized that every time they spoke, he had somehow ended up reacting rather than leading. He had failed to extract useful information about the disappearances, and he had failed to obtain a convincing answer regarding the village's future.
His gaze shifted from the clinic to the nearby slum district.
Something about it began to settle uncomfortably in his thoughts.
The clinic was close to the slums, too close for what would normally be considered a good business location. Kei was blind. A shinobi who lost his sight and then became a psychologist.
Was his mind truly as stable as he appeared?
The image of Kei standing calmly in that alley overlapped, disturbingly, with the image of an unseen culprit.
There was no proof.
Only conjecture.
Yet the suspicion refused to loosen its grip.
"Could it be you?" he murmured.
The thought did not feel rational, but it felt persistent. If Kei truly was involved, then Shisui would have to uncover it himself.
...
Night fell.
After closing the clinic, Kei stepped outside.
Since Haru had become his assistant, the evenings were the only time he had entirely to himself. She did not follow him after hours; instead, she returned to the main house, ever at the ready for orders.
Standing at the clinic entrance, Kei stopped briefly before turning toward the alleyways.
He knew Shisui was there.
After all, Shisui had been assigned to investigate the missing persons cases within the village.
The disappearances were Orochimaru's doing, human material for experimentation. Shisui did not know that. Worse still, he might now suspect Kei.
Kei was fully aware of that possibility.
He chose not to alter his route.
If he intended to seize the initiative, then retreating now would only confirm suspicion. When someone already holds a negative impression of you, every action becomes evidence in their mind.
The slum district was not particularly large. For a village like Konoha, prosperous, strategically placed within the Land of Fire, poverty existed, but not overwhelmingly so. However, the countless narrow alleys formed a maze that could easily disorient the unfamiliar.
For Kei, whose sensory perception compensated more than adequately for his blindness, the labyrinth posed no obstacle.
He moved at an unhurried pace, exiting one alley and entering another. After several steps, he came to a stop.
It had not rained tonight.
Without rain to wash away scent or disturbance, traces lingered longer in the stagnant air.
Footsteps landed behind him.
He did not need to extend his senses to know.
Shisui.
Shisui wiped sweat from his brow and steadied his breathing. He had been tracking faint signs all day and had finally found something, only to lose the trail again. Then he had seen Kei.
His eyes dropped to the ground a short distance ahead.
A narrow streak of blood.
He stepped past Kei and crouched beside it. The faint sour odor was unmistakable, the scent of someone who had lived rough.
The people were gone.
Only the trace remained.
"If I said I just arrived here as well," Kei asked evenly, "would you believe me?"
Shisui did not respond. Instead, he leapt upward, scanning nearby rooftops and adjacent alleys in rapid succession. One passage, then another and then a third.
Nothing.
No fresh disturbances.
No lingering chakra signatures.
When he returned, Kei was preparing to leave.
"There's no one else nearby," Shisui said, stepping into his path. "And last time, you were present too."
Kei tilted his head slightly.
"So?"
"Is there anything you'd like to explain? If not, I will need to search you."
"I have no obligation to explain something I did not do," Kei replied calmly. "And as for searching me, I refuse."
"You don't have the right to refuse."
"And you have the right to conduct a private search?" Kei countered quietly. "Have you already decided I'm guilty?"
Shisui did not answer.
He lacked evidence.
But he had suspicion.
His eyes fell to the slight bulge beneath Kei's robe.
A sealing scroll, perhaps.
If so, the disappearances would make sense.
When Kei attempted to walk past him, Shisui acted instinctively. His hand shot forward, gripping the paper bag concealed within Kei's robes and pulling sharply.
Kei reacted just as quickly, grabbing hold of the bag.
The thin paper tore under the opposing force.
The next instant, banknotes burst outward, scattering into the night air before drifting down across the narrow alley in chaotic disarray.
Silence swallowed the space between them.
Shisui stared at the fluttering bills as they fell around him.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Heat rose to his face as realization set in, heavy and suffocating.
"Are you satisfied now?" Kei's voice pierced through the silence like a needle.
Shisui took an involuntary step back. He opened his mouth, intending to speak, to justify, to clarify ,
No words emerged.
Kei did not look at him again.
Instead, he tapped his cane lightly against the ground, gesturing toward the scattered money.
"Remember this," he said calmly.
"You owe me."
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