Keiko rested her head on her hands, dozing off at the dinner table. Beside her sat the now-cold bowl of soup she had prepared for Satoru with so much care. Dai had long since gone to bed, while Tatsuo remained awake, engrossed in a book, occasionally glancing at Keiko's peaceful but tired expression.
A soft knock echoed through the quiet house. Tatsuo set his book down and got up to answer it.
He opened the door to find Satoru standing there, looking apologetic. "Sorry for being late," Satoru mumbled, scratching the back of his head.
Instead of responding, Tatsuo landed a gut punch squarely into Satoru's stomach.
The impact nearly made Satoru double over, his hand clutching his abdomen as he fought the urge to vomit. "W-What was that for?" he gasped.
Tatsuo's eyes were sharp. "That's for Keiko. She spent hours preparing to welcome you back, and where were you? Outside all day, doing who knows what."
"I was with Danzo," Satoru replied, still wincing. "He wanted to go over the mission details."
Tatsuo crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Really? Then why do you smell like ginger, have dried gravy on your collar, and chicken stuck in your teeth?"
Satoru froze, his shame deepening with each word. Tatsuo had pieced everything together so easily.
Seeing the guilt in Satoru's face, Tatsuo sighed and eased up. "Look, just take a shower and get to bed before Keiko wakes up. She doesn't deserve to be upset over this."
Satoru nodded, embarrassed, and headed for the bathroom. As he walked past the dinner table, his eyes lingered on the cold soup waiting for him. Something inside him felt... off. 'Why would I drink more soup after the bowl I had at the restaurant?' he thought, unable to shake the strangeness of it. ' I can't believe that I got caught so easily, Tatsuo figured everything out so easily, maybe I'm getting bad at hiding things.'
He washed up quickly, the warm water helping to ease some of his discomfort. Once clean, he dried off and went straight to bed.
---
Reiko stumbled into her home, her body weighed down by exhaustion. The door creaked as it closed behind her, and almost instantly, her father's gruff voice boomed from the living room.
"Reiko! Bring me more booze!"
Suppressing a groan, she opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of cheap alcohol, and handed it to him. He snatched it without a word of thanks, his attention glued to the flickering television.
Her younger brother, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a comic book, looked up. "Sis, when's dinner? I'm starving."
Reiko sighed, heavier this time, and trudged to the kitchen. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she ignored them, beginning to prepare something simple yet satisfying. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the space, but the noise didn't drown out her father's incoherent shouting about wanting something specific to eat. Reiko didn't bother asking him to clarify; she was too drained to care.
As she stirred a pot, her eyes wandered to the small shrine visible from the kitchen. The neatly arranged offerings and incense sticks surrounded the picture of her late mother, her serene face forever frozen in time. Next to it, a photo of her elder sisters with their husbands smiled back at her, their lives seemingly perfect and far removed from the chaos Reiko now called home.
She wiped the sweat from her brow, but her hands shook as she remembered that day years ago. Her parents had left to visit their friends in the Yotsuki clan, intending to celebrate the clan head's birthday. But her father, incapable of self-control, stopped at a bar and drank himself into oblivion. Her mother had continued alone, only to get caught in the fallout of a scandal that led to a civil war within the Yotsuki clan.
The memory of that day was a storm in Reiko's mind—her mother's warm smile, the shocking news of the bloodshed, and her father's drunken, pathetic state when he returned. She turned back to the pot, her tears silently falling into the dish she was preparing.
'I miss you, Mom,' she thought, gripping the ladle tightly as the ache in her heart intensified.
Reiko carried two plates of food into the dimly lit living room. Her younger brother, still engrossed in his comic book, barely glanced at her offering before scrunching his nose.
"I don't want vegetables," he said, shoving the plate away.
Reiko sighed but said nothing, placing the plate on the table. She turned to her father, who was finishing the last swig of his bottle. He slammed it onto the table with a loud clang before turning his bloodshot eyes toward the plate of food.
"What's this?" he growled.
"Dinner," Reiko replied, her voice drained of energy. "I made something simple—"
"I told you I wanted roasted chicken!" he barked, standing up abruptly.
Reiko took a step back. "That takes too much time. I'm tired, Dad," she said softly, her words trembling.
Her father's face twisted in rage. "Tired? Tired of what? What do you even do all day?" Without warning, he grabbed the plate and hurled it against the wall behind her. The shattering sound of porcelain mixed with the wet splatter of food echoed in the room.
Reiko froze, her eyes wide with shock as bits of food slid down the wall. Her father's heavy footsteps closed the distance between them, his hand raised as if to strike.
But before he could, Reiko's instincts kicked in. Her trembling hands reached into her pouch, and she pulled out one of Satoru's tranquilizer gas capsules. She smashed it on the floor, releasing a pale mist that filled the space. Her father's angry shouts turned into groggy mumblings as he staggered back, eventually collapsing onto the couch in a daze.
The room fell silent, save for the faint sound of her brother flipping the pages of his comic book. Reiko stood amidst the chaos—the broken plate, the food smeared across the wall, and her father's unconscious form. The weight of it all pressed down on her chest, and tears streamed down her face.
She ran to her room, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she collapsed onto her bed, clutching a photo frame of her elder sisters. Their smiling faces stared back at her, a stark contrast to her current reality.
"Why did you leave me here?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Why did you marry and move away, leaving me to deal with him?"
She curled up on the bed, holding the photo close as sobs wracked her body.
---
The morning sun streamed through the window as Satoru stirred awake, surprised to find Keiko sitting by his bedside. Her expression was calm but slightly concerned.
"Keiko?" Satoru sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Why are you here?"
"I thought you might be hungry," she said softly, her hands resting on her lap.
Satoru's gaze fell, guilt washing over him. "I'm sorry for not drinking the soup you made last night. I—"
"It's fine," she interrupted gently. "Would you like to have it now?"
He nodded, standing up. "I will. Just let me wash up first."
As Satoru headed to the bathroom, Dai was outside in the backyard practicing his taijutsu forms. His punches echoed through the air until a sudden sound at the front gate caught his attention. Lowering his stance, he walked over to investigate.
When he opened the gate, he froze. It was the girl who had visited Satoru in the hospital—Reiko. Her usual energy was absent; she stood there with a blank, almost lifeless expression.
"Uh… are you okay?" Dai asked hesitantly, but she didn't respond. She just stood there, staring past him. Alarmed, Dai quickly ran inside.
Satoru stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped around his neck, when Dai rushed to him. "Hey, you need to come outside. That girl from the hospital… Reiko, I think? She's at the gate, and something's wrong."
"What?" Satoru's brow furrowed as he followed Dai.
When he reached the gate, his heart sank. Reiko stood motionless, tears streaming silently down her face. Her body seemed frail, and as his eyes moved downward, he noticed red, swollen welts peeking out from under her sleeves and neckline. Belt marks.
"Reiko…" Satoru's voice was soft but filled with concern. "What happened to you?"
She didn't answer, her quiet sobs the only response.
Dai, sensing the gravity of the situation, backed away. "I'll leave you two alone," he muttered, returning to the backyard.
Satoru stepped closer, his tone gentle but firm. "Come inside, Reiko. Please."
She hesitated before nodding slightly, stepping through the gate. Satoru guided her to sit on the porch. "Keiko!" he called into the house. "Bring the medical supplies!"
---
Reiko had fallen asleep in the guest room, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion. Keiko watched her for a moment before turning to Satoru and gesturing for him to follow her. Satoru, puzzled but compliant, walked after her until they were far enough from the guest room to speak freely.
"What's going on with her?" Keiko asked, her voice calm but probing.
Satoru crossed his arms. "She's exhausted and injured. She just needs some rest."
Keiko frowned and rephrased her question. "I mean, what's going on between you two?"
Satoru blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"
Keiko folded her arms, her tone sharpening. "Reiko mentioned she has sisters who live far away from her father. If her father is the problem, why didn't she go to her sisters for help? Why come to your house—a guy she only knows from a mission?"
Satoru hesitated, scratching his head. "Maybe she trusts me. Or maybe her sisters aren't reachable."
Keiko's gaze didn't waver. "Fine, let's say that's true. But what about her team? Why not stay with one of her teammates?"
"Her team's on border patrol duty. They're out of reach," Satoru replied, his tone steady but thoughtful.
Keiko stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Then why you, Satoru? Out of everyone, why did she come to you?"
"I… don't know," Satoru admitted, shrugging. "Maybe I was her best option."
Keiko didn't seem satisfied. She sighed, her voice softening but still laced with concern. "Why am I asking these questions? Because this whole situation feels off. Reiko could've chosen anyone else—her sisters, her teammates, anyone—but she came to you. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"
Satoru frowned. "Did Reiko say or do something to upset you?"
Keiko paused, her expression briefly faltering before she shook her head. "No. It's nothing. Forget it."
She turned and walked away, leaving Satoru standing there, still processing her words.
Satoru finished his breakfast quietly, gave Keiko a short nod of gratitude, and left the house. The crisp morning air was refreshing as he made his way to Mitsuki-sensei's house, hoping to dive into some training. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional passerby.
On his way, a small bird caught his attention, gliding unnaturally close to him. Satoru slowed down, watching as the bird landed on a nearby fence. He noticed a small note tied to its leg. Curiosity piqued, Satoru approached cautiously and untied the note.
It was a simple message: "Meet me at the shinobi academy."
Frowning, Satoru slipped the note into his pocket. Changing his route, he summoned his sword from the storage scroll, holding it loosely for precaution. Whoever had sent the bird had gone through some effort, and he wasn't about to walk into a trap unarmed.
When he arrived at the academy, the place was eerily empty, with only the faint rustling of leaves breaking the silence. His eyes scanned the area until they landed on a figure sitting on the swing beneath a large tree. The man was draped in a cloak, his posture calm yet deliberate.
Satoru approached slowly, hand on the hilt of his sword, and then sat on the swing beside him.
When the man finally turned his head, Satoru's eyes widened in recognition.
"Danzo?" he muttered, his grip tightening on the sword.
Danzo nodded slightly, his gaze as unreadable as ever. " Satoru. I thought we should talk."