Takuma observed the people on the road from the rooftop café, sipping on a large glass of cold lemonade. There were only four more days before he had to leave the village for the journey to the Land of Hot Waters. He had made it his mission to enjoy the delicacies of his hometown before he was shipped off to war for who knew how long.
He had done his packing, and two days before his deployment, all of his belongings sans the stuff he had sold off would be shipped off to a storage unit, and he would surrender the keys to his apartment to the landlord before moving into Masaaki, Nenro, and Ai’s shared house as a guest. In the next few days, he had planned to meet a number of people before he left.
His visit to the café was for that very reason. He was meeting someone.
Takuma felt someone looking at him. He looked to the side to see the waiter pointing him out to Kano. He raised his hand, and Kano walked right over.
“The cold drinks here are good. You should try some,” Takuma said as Kano sat down.
“You should’ve come to the office,” said Kano.
“Should I order you something?” Takuma looked at her before sighing. “I don’t have enough self-control to walk into that building and contain my anger. I prefer doing it here where I don’t feel the urge to bash some faces in.”
Kano was wearing her red shades so Takuma couldn’t study her eyes, but he had known her long enough to understand that she wouldn’t be offended by his words, which were obviously aimed at her clan members. But he also knew that she wasn’t going to apologize for the clan and office politics, which had led to him being removed from his station.
“Did you bring my rewards?” asked Takuma.
Kano nodded and placed a storage scroll on the table. Takuma opened it and weaved hand seals.
“They are real,” Kano sighed.
Takuma ignored her and released the fuin-seal for multiple scarlet scrolls to appear on the table. The puff of smoke startled the civilians on other tables; Takuma ignored them and opened every scroll to check the contents.
“It does seem that way,” Takuma muttered as he continued to check.
The Police Force was in a delicate position after the assassination attempt. One of their officers was attacked at his home, and then they had lost the assassins’ bodies. On top of that, they had managed to anger Takuma by booting him from his team. They were concerned by their recruitment program, which was still in its infancy, if Takuma, who was in the first recruitment batch and was by far the most successful, decided to badmouth the Police Force. They needed top talent in the Police Force to maintain the legacy, and Takuma’s words could have a snowball effect. They were scared that if shinobi started to think the Police Force didn’t care if one of their outside recruits almost got assassinated and had even demoted him.
So, after Takuma decided to accept his conscription, the Police Force extended a reward for his excellent service. Takuma understood the situation and recognized the hush money for keeping his mouth shut. Takuma wanted to badmouth the Police Force from the rooftops to placate some of his anger, but after giving it a rational thought, he decided to take the reward.
He asked for jutsu scrolls.
Scrolls of C-rank jutsu and above couldn’t be taken out of the jutsu archives, and if a shinobi wished to study a jutsu they had purchased, they had to go to the archives to look at the scrolls. The scrolls had intensive information written on them with dozens of references to research papers, and because no stationary was allowed inside, copying the scrolls from memory was a chore. There was a niche black market for jutsu scrolls, but the discounted price wasn’t enough for the risk. Both the Police Force and ANBU had a no-tolerance policy for the illegal trade of jutsu scrolls with extremely high punishments.
Takuma’s ask was simple. He wanted C-rank jutsu scrolls he could own. It wasn’t an impossible ask; bigger shinobi clans had their own jutsu archives and were known to distribute scrolls to their members. He was going to a conflict-filled foreign land and thus was losing his ability to visit a jutsu archive; he wanted personal scrolls he could study at his leisure.
Takuma understood that even though the reward was from the Police Force, he was actually dealing with the Uchiha clan. And there were not many things the Uchiha couldn’t do in the Hidden Leaf.
As he had expected, they agreed. At first, Takuma had wanted them to foot the bill of the jutsu he wanted, but they had outright refused with no room for negotiation when they heard how many jutsu Takuma wanted. Takuma—very unwillingly—had come down to buying the scroll at a small discount from the Uchiha clan.
The sale of jutsu scrolls of C-rank jutsu and above was banned. Even the clans couldn’t do it; they were only allowed to distribute scrolls to their members. So, the deal was highly illegal. But that was what made it binding. If Takuma broke his side of the agreement, the Uchiha clan would screw him by sticking charges against him. And even though they had sold the scrolls to him, they were the Uchiha clan, they were the Police Force—they were big enough to get out of it with a slap on the wrist, something Takuma couldn’t do.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Everything checks out,” Takuma smiled as he put the scrolls away. “Now, onto why I specially asked for you to deliver the scrolls.”
“I was curious about that as well,” said Kano.
Takuma took out No#4’s weapon pouch. It had everything, including the small dagger inside.
“This is the fourth assassin’s weapons pouch, the one you guys didn’t know existed until I told you about it,” said Takuma. Kano stared at the pouch in surprise. “I didn’t have enough weapons that day, so I pulled it off his body after I killed him.”
“Why didn’t you give this to us before!?”
“Because it was with the hospital until now.” Takuma sighed, “And my memories of the fight have gaps in it… I didn’t remember that I had taken it until I saw it.”
He was too injured that day and even kicked in the head. Takuma remembered the fight, but some particulars escaped him. It was frustrating, but Dr. Oichi said that his memories would return eventually, but if he wanted something fast, a Yamanaka could help—Takuma had no intention of opening his mind to a Yamanaka.
“Take out the black dagger from inside,” said Takuma.
“It’s broken?” Kano asked as she held the separated blade and hilt.
“I removed the hilt. There is a smith’s touchmark on the tang.”
Kano looked. “We can track it. This is a great lead—” She stopped and looked up at Takuma. “You had no intention of giving this to us if you weren’t going to the war, did you?”
Takuma shrugged. “You guys lost the bodies. I looked around but couldn’t find a weaponsmith with that touchmark. But the tree motif indicates that the smith might be in the village. The special stitching on the pouch flap is also an avenue you should pursue.”
“Anything else?” asked Kano.
“You can’t expect me to do all the work.”
Kano put the pouch away.
“I heard you refused to be there when Yakumi officially took charge of the Narcotics Taskforce. You know Yakumi is just doing his job,” she said.
“My job,” said Takuma, sternly.
“Don’t you think the rest of the team would’ve felt better if you were there for a smooth change of command.”
Takuma didn’t answer that one; not even a quip.
Kano sighed as she stood up. “Be safe out there. Wars like this one can be complex. Follow your commander’s orders, and stay out of trouble. Let’s have a drink when you return...”
“… Alright,” said Takuma.
Kano nodded before leaving.
His gaze followed her until she was gone.
Takuma looked at the lemonade. The ice had already melted away with the condensation heavy outside the glass.
———
.
Sitting on a park bench with his cane sitting on the side as he fed bread to a flock of pigeons made Takuma feel old and slow. It was a strangely uncomfortable feeling, but he already had a loaf from the nearby bakery because he had come to the meeting early and had nothing to do. He was meeting a lot of people, but he didn’t especially want to do this one. Unfortunately, it was an important one.
“Is that cane going to stick?”
Takuma didn’t glance at the bench behind him. He could recognize Enomoto’s voice everywhere.
“I don’t think I can pull off a cane as a fashion statement,” said Takuma.
“I must say, I’m disappointed to hear that you are leaving. I doubted our agreement would last long, but then you started to produce results and I started to… dream,” said Enomoto.
“That’s new,” Takuma chuckled. “Well, adding to the confidence, I thought I would continue on for at least a couple more years. Alas, you put your cart behind a horse with a short race life.”
“At least, they aren’t putting you down after you fractured your foot… Well, you might soon die in the war.”
“Really? I mean, someone did try to take me out,” Takuma threw the last piece of bread to the birds. “You wouldn’t happen to know who was behind that little prank, would you?”
“Why would I try to kill my gold-laying goose—”
“The goose died in the fable.”
“Well, I’m not a colossal moron. Because it was you, I looked into it, but whoever it was, they didn’t leave any clues behind.”
“That they didn’t…”
“Well, if you’re leaving, that means my commissions from the Ring also stops. God… I will miss the returns on my investment,” said Enomoto. “I do have a question though. Did you meet me first or did you make time for Sango before me.”
Takuma smiled. “I came to you first. I value our relationship.”
“Aww, that’s sweet.”
“But I like to leave the best for the last.”
“There it is.”
The conversation died as soon as it had started. Takuma and Enomoto weren’t close. They were business partners connected through mutual benefit. Without that, they had no reason to associate with each other.
“Do you perhaps have a recommendation for a possible replacement?” Enomoto asked.
“Well, I can refer my team to you, but I fear that they would invite you to stay permanently.”
“Ah, that’s too much hospitality for me.”
Takuma had no intention to give Enomoto’s information to the Narcotics Taskforce. Enomoto was his asset; they would need to work with the informants the team had built since their inception—which wasn’t going to be pretty, the Narcotics Taskforce was still new. Right now, Takuma didn’t care about how much effort he had put into building up the Narcotics Taskforce—he couldn’t care less if Yakumi burnt the thing to the ground.
The feeling would pass, he was sure, but he wasn’t mature enough to settle his feelings quickly.
“I figured that. You will either have to be satisfied with your current position or find a new way to trim down your competition,” he said.
“Being satisfied doesn’t seem satisfying.” Enomoto stood up. “Don’t go dying in the war. Maybe we can work together when you come back.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Takuma replied.
Enomoto’s footsteps stopped. He said, “You never know. In the life we live, you never know what’s going to happen.”
Takuma stood up as well and for the first time in the conversation, he turned to look at Enomoto.
“Enomoto… If I ever find that you were behind the assassins, I am going to kill you.”
Enomoto stopped walking again and turned. He smiled, “I don’t think you’ll be able to pull that off successfully, genin.”
“In this life we live, you never know what’s going to happen,” said Takuma.
“Truer words haven’t been said,” Enomoto smiled before walking away.