The wide windows let in the fading light, casting long shadows across the floor. The mission scroll sat unopened on Hiruzen's desk as he looked up at the four figures standing before him.
Jiraiya stepped forward, arms folded. "Mission complete, Escort delivered safely. No casualties."
Hiruzen's gaze moved over the team. Minato stood straight, serious. Kushina's brow was furrowed, jaw tight. And Ryosuke—he stood slightly behind them, silent, eyes locked on the floor. Something about him had shifted.
"Hmmm, details.",Hiruzen said, his tone neutral.
"There was an ambush," Jiraiya continued. "Six shinobi, masked, well-coordinated. They struck at the river crossing outside Tanzaku Town. Timing was too precise to be random."
"Casualties?" Hiruzen asked.
Jiraiya hesitated. "Five dead. One fled."
Hiruzen's pipe paused halfway to his lips. "All from the ambush party?"
"Yes." Jiraiya glanced back at Ryosuke, then added, "One of them was taken down before I even arrived."
Kushina's voice was low, almost defensive. "They tried to get to me first. Ryosuke stopped them."
Ryosuke said nothing.
Hiruzen turned his eyes toward the boy. "How many did you kill?"
"One."
"Was it necessary?"
Ryosuke looked up. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were sharp. "If I hadn't, Kushina would have been severely injured if not dead."
Silence stretched for a moment. Hiruzen gave a slow nod. "Then you did what you had to."
He turned back to Jiraiya. "You said the ambush was coordinated. Could it be a leak?"
"Possibly. Route was changed at the last minute, but they still intercepted us. Either they got lucky—or someone inside had advance notice."
"I'll have the intelligence division look into it." Hiruzen picked up his pipe again. "Dismissed!"
The trio started walking out of the room but Jiraiya stayed behind.
Hiruzen looked upto him," Anything else?".
Jiraiya's mouth tightened. "I want Ryosuke pulled from the next mission rotation. He needs time."
"He seems fine to me," Hiruzen said quietly.
"That's the problem," Jiraiya replied, not looking back this time.
---
The lanterns lining the street outside swayed gently in the wind, casting warm amber glows through the wooden slats of the restaurant's windows. Inside, the quiet hum of conversations and the clink of bowls created a soft background rhythm.
Ryosuke sat at a corner table, back to the wall, eyes half-lidded as he stirred his rice. Across from him, Kushina was enthusiastically devouring her second bowl of miso ramen.
"You're not eating," she said between bites.
"I'm not hungry," Ryosuke replied, though he had barely touched anything.
Kushina frowned. "You always say that. Even after a mission."
"Especially after a mission."
She was about to press further when her attention was drawn by two figures that stepped inside—the Uchiha clan crest visible on their backs.
Mikoto was the first to notice them. Her face lit up. "Kushina!"
Kushina perked up. "Mikoto!" She waved as Mikoto made her way over.
Fugaku followed at a measured pace, eyes scanning the room, pausing briefly on Ryosuke.
Mikoto leaned over to hug Kushina, smiling. "I heard you went on a mission! How did it go? Was your first mission alright?"
"Sort of," Kushina said. "We'll talk later."
Mikoto glanced at Ryosuke and offered a polite nod. "I understand, you are Ryosuke,right?"
Ryosuke gave a small nod. "Yes."
"Don't let her boss you around too much," Mikoto teased, ruffling Kushina's hair before returning to Fugaku's side.
Fugaku stepped closer, stopping just beside Ryosuke's chair.
"I have a heard a lot about you.",he said, trying to give a smile but it looked awkward on him.
Ryosuke's eyes lifted slowly. "Mmh, yea?"
Fugaku's lips twitched,"Lord Jiraiya has bagged about his team a few times, not just anyone can catch his eyes."
Ryosuke stayed silent.
Fugaku continued, tone measured. "I respect talent. Especially when it's sharpened by restraint. That's rare in this village."
Ryosuke studied him for a moment, then nodded once. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Fugaku nodded back, a subtle understanding passing between them. "I believe it's wise for clans to maintain strong connections. Especially those who understand the weight of legacy."
He didn't say "Uzumaki" or "Uchiha," but the implication was clear.
Ryosuke understood perfectly.
A political gesture. Polite, respectful… and calculated.
"I'll remember that," Ryosuke said evenly.
Fugaku gave a small nod of the head and returned to Mikoto as they took their own table across the room.
Ryosuke looked at Kushina.
"Kushina, let's go."
----
The stars had begun to peek through the dusk. Konoha's streets were quieter now, the buzz of daily life fading into distant voices and the soft chirp of insects. Ryosuke and Kushina walked side by side, a quiet rhythm in their steps.
Kushina glanced sideways at him. "You didn't like talking to Fugaku, did you?"
Ryosuke didn't answer immediately.
"I didn't dislike it," he said finally. "I just don't trust men who speak like that. He wants something."
Kushina tilted her head. "Like what?"
"Options," Ryosuke said. "He's hedging his bets. Ties with a future asset. Someone not bound to any lines."
"Meaning you?"
"Meaning he sees value in someone who isn't fully theirs." He paused at the corner, the path ahead leading to his apartment. "I don't mind it. It's smart."
She walked a few more steps beside him, then stopped when he did.
"You're not going to invite me in?"
Ryosuke looked at her. His voice was soft. "Not tonight."
Kushina blinked. "Why?"
"You should go home."
A beat of silence passed between them.
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. Something in his expression told her this wasn't about space or privacy. It was something more serious.
"Alright," she said quietly as her soft eyes glanced at his with understanding, "I'll see you tomorrow."
He nodded once.
As she turned and disappeared into the night, Ryosuke stood there for a moment longer before walking to the door alone.
Ryosuke pushes open the door to his dim apartment. It creaked faintly. Dust danced in the beam of moonlight streaming through the window.
He stepped inside slowly. Each footstep echoing very softly, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. His eyes move across the room, instinctively scanning.
He notices a book that he had left behind, a crease on the spine that wasn't there before. A sheet of paper, barely shifted. His gaze sharpens as he looks around.
The dark room helps little as he tries to watch for an ambush, while his hand casually brushes against the pouch on his thigh.
*Then—knock knock knock.
A pause.
Another knock. This one firmer.
Ryosuke doesn't move. His eyes shift to the door. He can sense Suppressed chakra, 'Anbu?'.
A voice calls from behind the door, calm and official.
"Uzumaki Ryosuke. We've been sent by the Hokage's office. There are… matters that require your cooperation."
Ryosuke doesn't answer. His hand is already forming a seal under the table.
The door bursts open.
Two figures stood at the entrance. One of them coming in without any invitation, a tall man with sharp eyes, maybe barely older than twenty. The other stood by the door, moonlight outlining the flak jacket of a Special Jōnin.
Both wore anbu masks, but they weren't anbu.
Ryosuke didn't flinch, "You could've waited."
The taller one—the Jōnin—stepped closer, "Hokage's orders are to be executed with the highest priority possible."
"But Danzo isn't hokage," Ryosuke grinned.
The special jonin twitched for a moment, and their expressions darkened, the special jonin replied as his eyes have off a dangerous glow,"You cannot disrespect Danzo-sama, he-".
But he was stopped by the Jonin, as he realised he just gave away sensitive information," We will talk about your punishment later."
He said flatly.
The Jōnin looked at Ryosuke as his voice dropped slightly. "Danzo-sama requests your presence for a private assessment."
Ryosuke didn't move. "Not interested."
The Jōnin narrowed his eyes. "This isn't a request."
"I assumed it wasn't," Ryosuke said.
The Special Jōnin added. "Refusing a summon from Danzo-sama could have consequences. For you—and for those close to you."
A flicker of red passed through Ryosuke's eyes, subtle as a shadow. His chakra flared slightly, just enough to set the room on edge.
"I understand perfectly," he said. "And my answer's still no."
A beat passed. Then the Jōnin's face hardened.
"Take him."
The room burst into motion.
The Special Jōnin lunged low, aiming to restrain Ryosuke's arms while the Jōnin appeared behind him with body flicker speed. In seconds, chakra threads wrapped around Ryosuke's limbs, locking him in place with brutal efficiency.
The Jōnin stepped close, breath steady. "You're not as fast as they say."
Ryosuke said nothing. His body trembled slightly in the binds.
The Jōnin turned to the door. "Let's go before anybody notices."
Shhhk.
A knife slid cleanly through the Jōnin's back before he even finished turning.
He gasped, looking down at the tip of the blade protruding from his chest. The Ryosuke they had restrained shimmered—and vanished in a cloud of white smoke, way too much white smoke.
The real Ryosuke stood behind him, emotionless, kunai buried deep in his spine.
The Jōnin collapsed forward with a thud.
The Special Jōnin's eyes widened, but he reacted fast. He whipped around with a pair of chakra-infused trench knives, slashing toward Ryosuke's throat.
Ryosuke ducked low, the edge grazing his shoulder. He countered with a burst of pressure chakra from his palm, but the Special Jōnin weaved through it, twisting behind him and aiming for a leg slice.
Clink!
Sparks flew as steel met steel—Ryosuke blocked with a short tanto pulled from his sleeve.
They clashed, sharp and fast, neither gaining ground. Ryosuke's expression remained unreadable. He was precise, economical, and entirely focused.
Then—an opening.
The Special Jōnin hesitated for half a second after a failed feint. Ryosuke shifted his stance and pressed a palm to the man's chest.
Thum.
A faint pulse of chakra—dense, heavy—passed into the attacker.
The man froze.
His eyes widened.
And then his chest ruptured inward—not exploding, not combusting, but crumpling under a sudden pressure shift, like air had been sucked out from inside his lungs and spine.
He dropped instantly.
Ryosuke stood over him, breathing hard, hand still slightly trembling. He looked down to see the bodies in his apartment, his eyes were filled with fury, he knew he might have lost, had their guards not been down.
For now, he will bide his time, but he swore noone will be spared judgement on the day of reckoning.