Jūzō turned around.
The moonlight had just risen, shining on his face.
On that face were new scars, old wrinkles, and a pair of eyes as calm as Shinji's.
"I'm going to do something. If it succeeds, your lives will be a bit easier. If not, just act like you never knew me."
Shinji looked into his eyes and said nothing.
"It's about that girl."
Jūzō gave a small smile—not one of happiness, but just a twitch of the lips. "I know you're protecting her. So am I."
He pulled a piece of paper from his robe, walked over, and stuffed it into Shinji's hand.
It was a copy of a mission transfer order. On it was Mei Terumī's name, Kannabi Bridge, and Minato Namikaze's team.
Jūzō said flatly:
"This was drafted three months ago. Someone else was supposed to go, but that girl has been targeted. Someone wants her to die during the mission.
I'm going to find the Mizukage to change this mission and give her a fair chance."
Shinji looked down at the paper, his fingers gripping it so tightly that the edges dug into his skin.
"What if the Mizukage doesn't agree?"
Jūzō's tone was very calm, as if he were talking about someone else's business:
"I plan to do something extreme. Assassinate the Mizukage. Is that crime significant enough?"
He chuckled, a genuine laugh this time, though it was brief.
"The blade is yours."
Jūzō took the kubikiribōchō off his shoulder and thrust it into the ground.
The blade sank into the sand and stones of the riverbank, standing there like a tombstone.
"After I'm gone, you keep this. Whether you use it or not is up to you, but it should stay with someone who can protect that girl."
Shinji looked up at him.
"You—"
"Don't try to talk me out of it."
Jūzō waved his hand:
"I've lived for many years. I've killed many people and saved very few.
You're one of them, and that girl is another. That's enough for me."
He turned and walked upstream.
After a few steps, he stopped again.
"Shinji."
He didn't look back. His voice drifted from ahead, scattered by the night wind.
"That girl isn't just an orphan of the Yōton clan; she's a human being.
Just like you, someone who crawled out of the muck.
If you make it back alive, remember to bring her back too."
Then he continued walking.
The river water parted and closed at his feet. The moonlight stretched his shadow long, swaying on the water's surface.
Shinji stood where he was, watching the figure grow more distant and smaller until it finally vanished into the night.
The kubikiribōchō was stuck beside him. Droplets of water on the blade ran down its spine, falling drop by drop into the sand.
By the time he heard news the next day, Kisame Hoshigaki had become a Rogue Ninja.
...
That same night, Mei Terumī received a mission scroll.
This was her evaluation mission for promotion to Jonin.
Mission destination: Kannabi Bridge.
She returned to her dim room.
It was a small room she'd found later on the edge of the slums, not far from where Shinji lived, so they could look out for each other.
The wooden window frame was old and blackened, and the glass was covered in a layer of grime that couldn't be washed away.
Moonlight filtered through that grime, thin as a veil, falling onto the scroll in her hands.
She looked down at the scroll.
[Mission Rank: S]
[Mission Content: Infiltrate behind enemy lines, capture the target of the Three-Tails Jinchuriki Sabotage Plan: Rin of Minato Namikaze's team, and retreat.]
[Executor: Mei Terumī]
[Remarks: If necessary, the mission objective may be abandoned to ensure self-preservation. This is the standard format, written for show.]
She stared at that line.
Standard format.
Written for show.
It meant: if you die, don't blame us for not warning you.
The moonlight fell on the scroll, making the words crystal clear.
She read through it word by word, her gaze stopping on the words "Minato Namikaze's team."
Minato Namikaze.
She had heard that name. Konoha's Yellow Flash; anyone who met him on the battlefield died.
His team. Besides Rin, there was another genius Ninja said to be absurdly strong, Kakashi Hatake.
Mei Terumī's lips twitched.
It wasn't a smile. Just a faint movement she didn't even notice herself.
May abandon mission objective.
A remark found only in standard S-rank Expendable Missions. Translated, it meant: Go to your death.
She closed the scroll.
The parchment made a slight scraping sound, exceptionally clear in the silent night.
She placed the scroll beside her, leaned against the wall, and looked up at the night sky obscured by the gray mist.
The hooting of an owl came from outside. One hoot, then another, hollow and monotonous.
The sound came from afar, piercing the mist and the dilapidated window, settling into the dim room like some ominous omen.
Five years.
Five years since graduation day.
She leaned against the wall with her eyes closed as many images flashed through her mind.
Those images were like shards, floating up one by one and then sinking back down.
The sight of her mother falling. That day, she had crawled out of the cabinet and knelt in a pool of blood, looking into her mother's still-open eyes.
She reached out to close them, taking a long time to succeed. Then she dug the pit alone, buried her alone, and knelt alone until dawn.
The empty seat in the classroom. From her first day of school, the seat next to her had always been empty.
No one wanted to be near her; no one wanted to speak to her.
She sat there like a forgotten stone, watching the surrounding tide rise and fall, never even dampening the hem of her clothes.
The whispers on the training ground. The hushed discussions, the gazes from behind, the fragments of conversation she "accidentally" overheard.
"People from Kekkei Genkai families... it's better if they all just die off soon."
The secret of her Dual Bloodlines was well-hidden.
She had only used them twice in five years—both times at critical moments between life and death, and both times she had silenced the witnesses with the help of Shinji and Kisame Hoshigaki.
But she knew some people were still watching her.
Those gazes had never truly disappeared; they were just hidden deeper, waiting for the right opportunity.
An orphan of the Yōton clan.
That label was something she could never tear off in this lifetime.
So she wasn't surprised at all that this mission fell to her. If an Expendable Mission wasn't given to an expendable piece, who would it be given to?
Her lips twitched again—that same faint movement she didn't notice. It wasn't a smile, just some kind of instinctive reaction.
Then she remembered other images.
That night.
The mist.
The ruins.
The broken walls.
Three corpses.
The figure that walked out of the mist and stood in front of her.
Black hair. Ordinary features. An ordinary build. Only those eyes were as calm as a deep pool, without a single ripple.
Now Shinji was a formal member of the Anbu, and it was said he had just passed the Jonin evaluation not long ago.
That monster who had fought his way out of the slums, the one the instructors called the "Strongest Graduate."
Now he had reached a place she couldn't touch.
Ever since he left Kisame Hoshigaki's team last year, they had lived separately, and they didn't see each other often.