Chương 17: Disciple and Sword - 3

Back inside, Shin noticed the four figures outside had disappeared.

"Ditched," Shino said, very quietly, without looking up from his notebook. Shin nodded.

"Sasuke Uchiha." Iruka's voice cut across the room.

"Come up and demonstrate Clone Jutsu." Sasuke rose from his seat and walked to the front of the class without hurry. Iruka stepped aside. Sasuke said nothing — just brought his hands together into the cross seal. Poof. The smoke cleared. A second Sasuke stood beside him, solid and still, white vapor curling around its edges. A wave of impressed murmuring moved through the desks.

"Good," Iruka said, and he meant it. Sasuke walked back to his seat in perfect silence, ignoring every set of eyes that tracked him. Shin rested his chin on his hand and watched him pass. He leaned slightly toward Shino.

"Is Clone harder than Transformation?"

"Much harder," Shino said.

"I practiced for a long time before I had it. I'm still not consistent."

"I see." He's good at everything, Shin thought, without particular envy.

"Shin Takami." He stood. Walking to the front, he passed Sasuke's desk. Sasuke was already looking at him. Shin raised an eyebrow. Your move.

"Tch." Sasuke turned away. The corner of Shin's mouth curved. He kept walking. Hey— he could feel Sasuke's irritation behind him like a small sun. —he's doing it on purpose— Shin stepped up to the board.

"Remember what I said?" Iruka asked.

"Yes." Iruka glanced at him. Shin didn't have the Uchiha name, didn't have the bloodline, didn't have the years of private training. Iruka kept his voice easy.

"Take your time. Don't overthink it." Shin breathed in once. Hands into the cross seal. Chakra moving through him, gathering at the surface—" Ha." Poof. The clone materialized. Same posture, same expression, same everything — just the faint remnant of white smoke drifting from its edges. The class went loud.

"Whoa—""He did it—""That's so cool—" Iruka studied the clone carefully, in the way that teachers do when they're seeing more than they're saying. He could tell the control wasn't quite Sasuke's level. The chakra distribution was slightly uneven — nothing a layperson would notice, but there.

"Good work," he said.

"Keep practicing at home." Shin dismissed the clone and stepped down. He passed Sasuke's desk again. He raised the same eyebrow. Sasuke stared at him with an expression that communicated, wordlessly, several things at once — none of them appropriate for a classroom. Shin smiled. Kept walking. He— Sasuke's hand had curled into a fist without him deciding to do that. He is definitely doing this on purpose.

"All right," Iruka said.

"Let's move on. Ino—" No response.

"Ino?" Ino was looking out the window, somewhere else entirely.

"— Ino Yamanaka."

"Ah—! Here!" She shot to her feet, found the entire class watching her, and felt her face warm.

"Sorry."

"Don't zone out in class," Iruka said, not unkindly.

"I'm sorry."

"Come up and try Clone Jutsu." She walked to the front. Iruka asked if she'd been paying attention; she said yes, quickly, maybe too quickly. She formed the cross seal." Ha." The clone appeared. It looked exactly right — same posture, same hair, same face — except the expression was a little flat, the edges slightly soft, like something printed on paper that had gotten wet. Iruka pressed his lips together.

"That'll do. Practice more. And stay focused."

"Yes. Sorry." She bowed, dismissed the clone, and went back to her seat.

"Now then—" What's going on with Ino? Shin thought, watching her sit down. She'd already turned back to the window.

"She's been keeping to herself lately," Shino said, barely above a murmur. Shin glanced over.

"I thought she had a lot of friends."

"She did."

"..." He looked back at Ino's seat. She was doing it again — chin lifted, eyes fixed on something outside that only she could see. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Before Iruka could name the next student, he raised his voice toward the door.

"The four of you outside — come in and show me yours." Silence." Naruto Uzumaki. Kiba Inuzuka. Shikamaru Nara. Choji Akimichi. Get back in here right now." More silence. Iruka stared at the empty hallway for a moment. Then he walked to the door, looked out, and found nothing. His expression shifted." Those absolute little—" The day had ended badly. Ino walked home alone in the golden last light, head down, feet slow. Her friends. She had fewer and fewer of them. She knew why.

It had started that day when she'd told Chizumi and Aoi what was in her heart — the honest, stupid, unguarded thing she'd said without thinking. Since then, the circle had been getting smaller. She couldn't blame them. She'd done the same thing, hadn't she? The moment she'd heard about Sakura, she'd felt it too — that tiny, poisonous shift. Sakura had been nothing but kind to her since. Normal. Warm. Like nothing had changed. And here I am.

"Ino." She stopped. She hadn't been expecting that voice. She looked up. A girl was standing near the front of her house — just standing there, waiting, watching her come closer. The evening light was doing something to her pink hair, picking out the warm tones in it. Ino stopped walking. Sakura came toward her slowly.

"... Sakura," Ino started, voice odd even to herself. She looks different today. Something is different.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long." Sakura's voice was lower than usual. A little rough at the edges.

"I'm sorry," Ino said quietly. Sakura was quiet for a moment.

"Why are you apologizing?" Ino spread her hands. She made herself smile — the effortless kind, the kind she'd spent years perfecting.

"No reason. Just felt like it." The distance between them felt enormous. Like standing on opposite sides of a wide, still river and trying to shout across.

"Then why," Sakura said, and her voice was slow and deliberate, "did you lie to me." Ino's mouth opened. Nothing came out. So that's what this is. The evening settled around them. The sun was at the horizon, and everything had gone the color of embers.

"Ino." Sakura wasn't looking away. Her eyes were bright and glassy.

"Your hair," she said softly.

"It's gotten so long."

"..." The wind moved through, pushing Sakura's hair off her shoulders. In the space between gusts, Ino felt something small and ridiculous rise in her chest — the urge to laugh at herself. Why do I even keep it long.

"Who knows," Ino said, to no one in particular. Sakura's voice dropped even lower.

"Ino."

"... Yeah."

"We're friends, right."

"... I guess we are."

"Are we?" The film over Sakura's eyes finally broke. One tear, then another.

"I thought we were."

"..."

"You were the only one," Sakura said. The words came out jagged now, halting.

"I gave you everything — all of it — every secret I had—""I looked up to you so much—""I chased after you—""I admired you—""So why—""Why—" She was crying now, voice splintering apart. Ino stood still. When she finally spoke, it came out quiet, almost like she was talking to herself.

"What was I supposed to do, Sakura." Sakura looked up. Ino's eyes were calm — that deep, unreadable calm that Sakura had never been able to figure out.

"What was I supposed to do?" she said again, and now there was an edge in it, something that asked more than it said.

"If I'd said it first — that day — before you—" Ino paused.

"What would you have done?" Sakura stared at her.

"What could you have done?" She didn't have an answer. The air between them held still. The sun was nearly gone, and the whole village had turned to red and shadow. Ino looked at her. And for the first time in a long time, she saw clearly — how far apart they were standing. How far apart they had been standing for a while.

"Sakura."

"..." The evening wind returned. It swept through hard enough to tangle Sakura's hair across her face, and through the strands she saw it — a tear cutting down Ino's cheek, and that perfect, practiced smile still sitting on her mouth.

"You finally bloomed, didn't you." Sakura felt something crack open in her chest.

"Ino — Starting now," Sakura said. Her voice was very even.

"We're rivals." Outside the Takami house, someone was waving." Hey! Shin!" Kiba had Akamaru under one arm and was using the other to wave with more energy than the situation strictly required. Hana stood next to him. The Haimaru Brothers milled around her feet.

"Hana," Shin said, as he came up to them.

"Hey, little Shin." Hana smiled.

"Ready to go?" She reached forward as if to take his hand, then paused — reading his expression, the slight shift in his weight.

"I'm, uh. Old enough to—""Pfft—" She caught herself, pressed her lips together, lost it anyway." Okay," she managed.

"No hand-holding. Noted." She was still laughing.

"Come on then." Kiba, next to her, had already pulled an elaborate face at Shin the moment Hana looked away. Shin returned the look with a flat stare. Akamaru barked.

"Let's go!"...... They walked out into the market streets, and Kiba immediately became a different kind of animal — bouncing ahead, doubling back, pointing at things.

"There's that place with the grilled beef, the one I told you about—"" Mm."

"And the beef jerky place — Akamaru loves it, we should definitely get some—"" Woof."" Hm," said Hana, who had clearly navigated this dynamic before. Kiba kept going. He had a long list. Hana kept saying yes to most of it in that patient, fond way of someone who had already written off their paycheck." This is her problem," Shin thought, watching. She spoils him completely and seems fine about it.

"What about you, Shin?" Hana asked, turning to him.

"Is there anything you want?"

"Nothing, thanks."

"Anything you'd like to eat?"

"Not really." Hana stopped walking. Kiba nearly walked into her. She turned fully to face Shin, studied him for a moment with the evaluating look she usually reserved for patients, then reached out and pressed two fingers against his forehead." Ow."

"You can't just have nothing you want," she said, frowning.

"..."

"What do you like to eat, Shin?" He thought about it. Genuinely. Then he smiled — a small, real one.

"Your cooking," he said. Hana stared at him. Then she made a sound — half exasperated, half something else — and reached over to ruffle his hair thoroughly enough that the hair tie almost came loose." Come on," she said, still smiling.

"Don't be difficult."...... They walked side by side through the stalls, Kiba pinballing around them. Hana had given up tracking him and was just occasionally processing the receipts when he appeared.

"Hana, I want this—"" Hm."

"Hana, come here—"" Woof?"" Fine."

"She's going to be broke before we get home," Shin thought.

"Anything catching your eye?" Hana asked.

"No." She made a thoughtful sound and started looking around — visibly scanning the street for something, though he wasn't sure what. Then she took hold of his sleeve and steered him toward a shop he hadn't been paying attention to.

"In here," she said.

"What—"" Kiba, come on."...... The clothing shop had everything — everyday wear, jackets, training gear, flak vests for when you finally made chunin, cotton undershirts and festival yukata and things with no clear category.

"Pick something," Hana said.

"Really, you don't have to—"" Pick something, Shin." He gave up and looked. He looked for a while. Then he pointed at a plain black short-sleeve shirt near the back — simple cut, small ramen-swirl print on the chest.

"That one."

"... That one?"

"Yes." Hana looked at it. Looked at him. Looked at what he was currently wearing, which was also a plain black shirt.

"... Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"No," she said suddenly, and walked away from him.

"—Wait—" She came back with something folded over her arm. White. Short-sleeved. One small geometric print near the collar, clean enough to be almost plain.

"Try this." He looked at it. He had never worn white. Not in this life — he defaulted to black, dark blue, anything that didn't show up. He took the shirt from her anyway and went to change. When he came back out, Hana went still for a moment. Then she reached out and cupped his face with both hands, studying him like she was solving something. It was different. Like turning a lamp from a cool light to a warm one. Same features, same quiet eyes — but something in the overall impression had shifted.

Less like still water. More like early morning sun. He looked, Hana thought with sudden conviction, like someone's beloved little brother." Perfect,"she said. She pinched his cheek lightly." Look at you."

"Hana—""This one," she said firmly.

"And you should wear white more often." She leaned back and tilted her head.

"Also, trim your hair."

"..." He reached up and touched the end of his ponytail.

"We'll deal with that another day," she decided.

"Come on." Outside the shop, Kiba immediately found something new to demand. Hana followed him. Shin walked a step behind them. He almost didn't notice it — just a glimpse in his peripheral vision, a storefront set back slightly from the main thoroughfare. He slowed without meaning to. Blades. All kinds. The shop's walls were hung with them: katana, smaller wakizashi, tanto, long blades for two-handed grips, curved blades, straight ones.

The light caught the edges at different angles, each one a slightly different quality of brightness.

"Shin?" Hana had stopped when she noticed him lagging. He pulled his eyes away. Looked at her. Smiled.

"Sorry. Nothing — I was just looking." He shook his head slightly.

"It's not like I know how to use one."

"Fair enough," she said, easy, turning back toward the street. She took two steps, then let Kiba pull her further ahead. But she glanced back at the shop once, when neither of them was watching her. Something in her expression had gone thoughtful.