"Ding!"
Yuta blocked the oncoming katana with his kunai. In a flash, he ducked low and curled into the arms of the towering enemy, who had left his guard wide open. With a flick of his wrist, Yuta's kunai arced upward, slicing the man's throat.
The bandit's eyes widened in shock, but Yuta was already gone—his body blurred into motion, and the kunai buried itself in the back of another enemy locked in combat with Akano.
"Phew… saved!"
Akano stared at the enemy who had been overpowering him moments ago, now lifeless on the ground.
Luck had spared him. A second later, and he would've been the one cut down.
His body sagged, the adrenaline fading. The red-haired genin collapsed, sweat-drenched spikes of hair clinging to his forehead protector.
After a few labored breaths, he turned his head toward a short-haired blonde girl nearby.
"Kiko! Bandage me up—I'm hit!"
"O-oh! Sorry, I spaced out!" Kiko jolted at his voice, then hurried over, hands already pulling gauze from her medic pouch.
Kiko was a civilian-trained medical-nin. Beyond the Academy's basic Three Jutsu, her skills were limited—no Mystical Palm or proper field training. She could patch wounds, but little else.
Her gentle nature made her a liability in fights, leaving her nearly useless to the team.
As she finished wrapping Akano's injury, her gaze drifted to Yuta. His figure flickered across the battlefield like a specter.
Every flash meant another enemy fallen. To Kiko, it looked less like combat and more like a dance—a deadly waltz where Yuta led, and death followed.
"Will Yuta-kun be okay?"
Even as the last bandits dropped, her voice trembled with worry.
"Relax. Yuta's fine," Akano grunted. "But where the hell's Suzuki-sensei? Probably hiding while we do his job."
Akano wasn't concerned. A year as teammates had taught him Yuta's strength. Bandits stood no chance.
His irritation was reserved for their missing jōnin instructor.
—
The final enemy crumpled. Yuta scanned the clearing, kunai poised, then relaxed.
No threats remained. He wiped the blade clean and strode toward his teammates.
Silver hair. Gray fatigues. A calm face that softened into a reassuring smile. Not a drop of blood on him.
Akano and Kiko gaped.
'So strong.'
Yuta tilted his head. "Mission's over. Time to regroup with Suzuki-sensei." He hauled Akano up with one arm and nodded to Kiko. "Move out."
In a single motion, he leapt into the trees, Akano in tow.
"O-oh!" Kiko blinked, then scurried after them, cheeks pink. "Yuta-kun is so kind…"
—
At the rendezvous point, Suzuki lounged on a branch, straw between his teeth, legs swinging.
His jōnin vest was pristine, but Yuta's sharp eyes caught the blood on his wrist and the fresh cuts on his sandals.
'So. He had his own fight.'
Yuta said nothing. Some questions weren't meant to be asked.
"SUZUKI-SENSEI!" Akano bellowed. "We're getting slaughtered, and you're napping? Look at me!" He jabbed at his bandaged side.
Kiko puffed her cheeks in silent accusation.
"Ahaha! Well—" Suzuki scratched his head, then leapt down. "Mission's done, right? Good work."
Yuta smirked. Suzuki deflected, tossing a grin. "C'mon, kids. Hand in the report, and I'll treat you to BBQ."
"BBQ?!" Akano's rage vanished. "Then hurry up! Places close early!" He tore off toward the village road, injuries forgotten.
Yuta watched Akano's carefree sprint toward the village, a pang of envy striking him. That kind of freedom must make life easier.
But for someone like him—bound by shadows—such lightness was only a wistful thought.
He and Suzuki followed at a slower pace, trailing Kiko's nervous chirps and Akano's booming laughter. The sound tugged Yuta's lips into an unguarded smile.
Suzuki's straw twitched between his teeth. "Huh. Even you have happy moments?"
The smile vanished. Yuta defaulted to his usual squinting grin.
"Tch. Drop the act." Suzuki scowled. "You look like a fox caught in a lantern's light."
Yuta kept his tone mild. "My classmates call this expression 'gentle.'"
"Because they're naïve. Adults see right through it. Hell, even the Sandaime refused to take you as a student over that damn smile."
His imitation of Ichiraku's warmth had backfired—earning him wariness instead of trust. Only the inexperienced found it comforting.
But he wouldn't change it now. To do so would admit the lie.
As they walked, Yuta cut to the heart of it. "Why hide the truth from Akano and Kiko? That you fought your own battle back there? They'll resent you for 'abandoning' them."
Suzuki halted. "What truth?"
"Your wrist. Your sandals." Yuta's gaze sharpened. "The enemy was strong enough to leave marks on a jōnin. Yet you let them think you napped."
"Keh. Annoying brat." Suzuki shrugged, neither confirming nor denying.
Yuta's voice softened. "Masks are necessary. Lies, illusions—reality gets people killed."
Suzuki stayed silent until they reached Konoha's gates. At the checkpoint, he muttered, "Maybe so."
---
After Suzuki left to report to the Hokage, Yuta's team headed for the barbecue shop. They barely reached the door when a voice shouted:
"Yo! Yuta! Back from a mission already?"
Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru skidded to a stop behind them, panting.
Kiko blinked. "You don't have to run for dinner..."
Jiraiya and Tsunade flushed. Orochimaru hung back, frantically signaling Yuta with his eyes.
Akano barreled ahead. "We killed people this time! Real out-of-village mission!"
Tsunade's envy flared. "Stupid Sandaime won't let us go yet! It's his fault we're stuck here!"
(Sandaime, elsewhere: "I took blame before Danzo made it fashionable.")
They tumbled into the restaurant. Orochimaru lingered, earning a questioning look from the host. He offered a strained smile.
No one discussed payment. Meat hit the grill. Chopsticks flew.