Nobunaga chewed on the cake.
He thought back to what happened earlier. Temari had been standing under the moonlight, shoving the cake into his hand.
She said, "The three of us made this." Her head was bowed, the tips of her ears red.
He chewed on the cake.
A breeze blew in through the window. The light from the oil lamp flickered.
Moonlight shone in, falling on his face and on the torn greaseproof paper.
It seemed like he hadn't had a birthday in a very long time.
...
The seventh year.
The stone pillars on the training ground had been replaced three times.
The earliest ones had been carved out of shape by Wind Release, and the newly erected ones were also marked with deep gashes, each one a measurement of their growth.
Nobunaga stood at the edge of the field, watching the three figures in the distance.
Temari was ten years old. When she swung that Black Iron Fan, it could slice through rock, and the scar on the web of her hand had long since faded.
But every time she gripped the fan, her thumb would pause at that spot—the place where the bandage used to be; she always remembered.
Kankuro was ten. He had gone through three puppets, each more complex than the last.
He still had a habit of hiding behind his puppets, but now, he was starting to try and stand a little further forward. Just a tiny bit, but he was always moving forward.
Gaara was nine. His gourd had been replaced with a large one, and his sand was steadier than before.
He still didn't speak much, standing half a step behind Temari like a silent shadow.
Nobunaga watched them.
The wind blew in from the entrance, carrying the scent of grit.
He walked over.
"Stop for a moment."
The three of them stopped and looked at him.
Nobunaga said, "Today is the last time; you're about to graduate."
Temari was stunned for a moment, Kankuro's hand stopped in mid-air, and the sand at Gaara's feet paused.
"It was arranged by the Anbu. The three of you will be in one squad, with a dedicated Squad Leader Jonin."
Temari opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
Nobunaga didn't give her the chance.
He looked at Temari.
"You."
Temari stood up straight.
Nobunaga said, "You swing that fan well, but don't always try to carry everything alone."
Temari was taken aback.
"That spot on the web of your hand—your thumb pauses there every time you grip your fan. I know what you're remembering."
Nobunaga looked at her: "But remember this. You aren't alone anymore. You have the two of them behind you; when it's their turn to step up, don't try to tough it out by yourself."
Temari lowered her head and said nothing.
Nobunaga looked at Gaara.
"You."
Gaara looked up.
Nobunaga said, "Your control of the sand is very good, and you know that you don't have to kill people; that's very good. But you must remember something else."
Gaara watched him.
"You are not a monster."
Nobunaga said, "You are someone who is needed. Temari needs you, and Kankuro needs you."
In the future, even more people will need you. Don't hide behind them; stand beside them."
Gaara's lips moved, but no words came out.
But his eyes were a little red.
Nobunaga looked at Kankuro.
"You."
Kankuro stood up straight.
Nobunaga said, "Your tuning of the puppets is getting smoother and smoother, but that habit of yours—hiding behind the puppets—it's time to change that."
Kankuro lowered his head.
Nobunaga said, "The puppet is a tool. You are the Puppeteer. You've already dared to stand forward, so keep moving forward. Stand in the sunlight so your sister and brother can see you."
Kankuro looked up and nodded vigorously.
Nobunaga looked at the three of them.
The wind blew in from the entrance. The sand rustled softly.
He was silent for a moment.
Then he spoke, his voice slightly lower than before.
"When you go on missions in the future, remember to look out for each other. Temari, don't always be the first to charge in. Gaara, don't always fall behind. Kankuro, don't always hide in the back."
"If you encounter danger, prioritize staying alive. A mission can fail, but nothing must happen to you."
"Drink water after using Wind Release; don't wait until you're thirsty. Check your puppet strings every day; don't wait until they break to replace them. Practice your sand control every day; don't wait until you lose control to regret it."
"And—"
He paused.
"If anything happens, you can come back and find me. Your teacher is quite strong, you know."
The three of them stood there, looking at him.
No one spoke.
Temari's eyes reddened.
Kankuro kept his head down, his shoulders trembling.
Gaara stood there as the sand at his feet swirled in circles, moving very slowly.
Nobunaga looked at them, not understanding why he had suddenly become so talkative. No, he understood.
After all, it had already been seven years.
Temari was the first to look up.
"Teacher."
"Hmm."
"Can we... can we always call you Teacher?"
Nobunaga looked at her.
The light in those eyes had long since lost the cautiousness from seven years ago. It had turned into something else.
"You can," he said.
Temari smiled, a very small smile, and as a tear slid down, she raised her hand to wipe it away.
Kankuro looked up and grinned; it was an ugly smile, but he was indeed smiling.
Gaara didn't smile, but he took half a step forward.
From behind Temari, he moved to her side.
Nobunaga watched that half-step.
"Go on. Starting tomorrow, you will be official Ninjas."
The three of them stood there without moving.
"Go."
The three took a deep breath and turned around.
They walked a few steps.
Temari stopped and looked back.
"Teacher!"
Nobunaga looked at her.
"Tomorrow... can we still come here to practice tomorrow?"
Nobunaga didn't say anything.
He looked at the three children standing in the sunlight.
Then he nodded.
The three little ones smiled.
They turned and ran off.
Their three figures grew more distant, disappearing into the wind-blown sand at the training ground's entrance.
Nobunaga stood where he was.
The wind blew in from the entrance. Sand fell on his shoulders.
He lowered his head and looked at the stone pillars carved with deep gashes. Each mark was a trace of these seven years.
He thought about the words he had just said. Rambling on like that. Saying so much.
He suddenly smiled. It was very light, without a sound.
The wind continued to blow.
He stood there for a long time.
Anbu Chief's Office.
Rasa sat behind the desk, with the three children standing before him.
He pushed a list to the edge of the desk.
"You are about to graduate. You need a Squad Leader Jonin."
His voice was flat: "These five individuals are all Elite Jonin of the Hidden Sand Village. Pick one."
Temari glanced down at the list.
Five names. All of them were people she had heard of, who had completed S-rank Missions and had some reputation in the Ninja World.
She looked up.
"What about Teacher Nobunaga?"
Rasa's eyebrows twitched slightly.
"Him? He's just a school teacher—"
"We want him."
Temari's voice wasn't loud, but it was very steady.
Rasa looked at her.
The office fell silent for a moment.
Then, Gaara, who was standing behind Temari, shuffled forward half a step.
It was a very light half-step, but it was enough for Rasa to see.
Kankuro poked half his head out from behind Temari and nodded vigorously.
Three people, three different actions. The same meaning.
Rasa was silent for a long time.
He waved his hand.
"Suit yourselves."
When they walked out of the office building, the wind was very strong.
The three walked for a while.
Kankuro suddenly quickened his pace and took a step forward.
He was now side by side with Gaara.
Temari didn't look back.
But she knew.
The corner of her mouth curled up.
Just a tiny bit.