Jerk

Silence fell for about a second.

Then Tsunade's mind went completely blank.

Blood rushed to her face, from the base of her neck to the tips of her ears, turning them bright red.

"You—"

Her fist slammed into his chest.

It wasn't a real hit.

But she hadn't exactly held back, either.

Kitahara Kaede grunted and staggered half a step.

Internal injury +1.

A stifled laugh came from behind the counter.

The shop assistant clapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes curving into crescents as her shoulders shook—not with fear, but because she was so overwhelmed by the romance unfolding before her.

Tsunade turned away and stared at a row of earrings on the wall.

She wasn't actually looking at any of them.

The tips of her ears were so red they looked ready to bleed.

The shop stayed quiet for a long while.

Tsunade was the first to speak.

She cleared her throat and forced her voice back to its usual pitch.

"Then... how about a necklace for Nawaki?"

A necklace.

Kitahara Kaede felt a faint sinking in his heart.

In the original story, the birthday present Tsunade gave Nawaki was the Green Crystal Necklace left behind by the First.

That necklace would later come to be known as the "Death God Necklace."

Not a single person who wore it survived.

Nawaki died.

And later, Dan Katō died too.

Whether the necklace itself was cursed was hard to say, but it was certainly where all the misfortune began.

"A necklace?" he said casually. "That kind of thing isn't very practical for a boy to wear."

Tsunade thought about it. He did have a point.

"Then what do you think I should get him?"

"Something that could keep him alive."

He said it lightly.

But Tsunade looked at him.

Somehow, those words felt heavier than they sounded.

She didn't ask any more questions.

"Fine. I'll take your advice."

Tsunade reached up, unclasped the necklace, and set it back on the counter. Then she turned and headed for the door.

"Come on. The ninja tool shop."

Kitahara Kaede didn't follow right away.

He paused at the counter. While Tsunade was turning to push open the door, he tapped the counter twice with his fingertips and tilted his head toward the necklace.

The shop assistant froze for less than half a second.

Then her eyes lit up.

She quickly gathered up the silver chain, pulled a palm-sized, deep-blue velvet box from beneath the counter, placed the necklace inside, and closed it.

Kitahara Kaede put some money on the counter and took the box.

From the moment Tsunade pushed open the door to the moment he followed her out, less than five seconds had passed.

Tsunade glanced back at him.

"What's taking you so long?"

"My sandal came untied."

Tsunade glanced down at his ninja sandals.

Ninja sandals didn't have laces.

She frowned. "You—"

"Let's go. The ninja tool shop's that way." Kitahara Kaede had already walked past her, hands in his pockets.

Tsunade stared at the back of his head for two seconds but didn't press him.

The ninja tool shop was at the far end of the shopping street.

Kitahara Kaede went to the protective gear section, crouched down, and began inspecting the inner armor piece by piece.

He weighed it, tested the armor plates, and stretched the lining.

He picked one up, examined it, and put it back before taking another.

Tsunade stood beside him with her arms folded, at first looking around listlessly.

Then, without realizing when it happened, her gaze drifted back to him.

He looked serious when he was choosing things.

His brow furrowed slightly as his fingers traced the seams between the armor plates inch by inch, as if checking for gaps. He was the same way when he checked his ninja tool pouch before a mission: meticulous, never once complaining that it was a hassle.

"Something that could keep him alive."

He'd said it so casually.

But now he was crouched here, carefully picking through the armor one piece at a time.

Tsunade's throat bobbed.

She looked away, picked up a bracer from the nearby shelf, turned it over, then put it back.

"This one."

Kitahara Kaede stood and brushed off his hands.

The inner armor in his hands looked unremarkable, gray-black, but Tsunade tested it with her hands. The armor plates were closely arranged, the lining was flexible, and it was lightweight. It was also double-woven.

It was the most expensive kind in the shop.

Tsunade said nothing.

They paid and left.

As they pushed open the door, Tsunade lifted her head.

The streetlights were on.

The sky had darkened without her noticing. Only the last dim, yellow light remained beneath the eaves. Vendors were packing up their goods, and a few scattered pedestrians walked home, their shadows stretching long behind them.

She looked back the way they'd come and finally realized they'd been shopping since the afternoon. Nearly three hours had passed.

"...It's this late already?"

Kitahara Kaede looked up at the sky too.

"Come on. I'll walk you home."

On the way back, they walked side by side without saying much.

The last rays of the setting sun stretched their shadows long across the road, the two of them walking parallel.

Tsunade walked on his left, carrying the cloth bag with the inner armor.

Every so often, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, only to find that he wasn't looking.

Then, once she looked away, it felt as if a gaze brushed the back of her head.

This happened several times.

Neither of them called the other out.

They reached Tsunade's front door.

She stopped and turned around.

Kitahara Kaede stopped too.

They stood facing each other.

The setting sun shone from behind his shoulder, warming her face.

Tsunade squeezed the strap of the bag.

"Thanks for today."

"You picked out Nawaki's present."

"That's not what I meant."

Silence fell for two seconds.

Tsunade was about to turn and go inside—

"Wait."

Kitahara Kaede took out a small box.

Tsunade stared at it, her feet rooted to the spot.

"When did you—"

"You look good wearing it."

He held out the box.

Tsunade took it.

She didn't even notice that her fingers had tightened slightly.

She lifted the lid.

The delicate silver chain lay quietly against the dark velvet.

It was the same one.

The one she'd tried on in the shop.

Tsunade stared at it for several seconds. Her lips moved, but no words came out.

"...How much was it? I'll pay you back—"

"Are we so distant that we have to keep track of the cost of a necklace?"

Tsunade looked up.

The setting sun cast a warm glow across his face.

His expression was calm, as if he'd said something perfectly ordinary.

Tsunade didn't answer.

She lowered her eyes, closed the box, and tucked it against her chest. She stood there for a while, lips pressed together.

Then she turned and stepped over the threshold.

"...Good night."

"Good night."

The door closed.

Behind the door,

Tsunade leaned against the wooden panel, the back of her head against it, clutching the small box in her hand.

She stood there for a while, then opened the lid and took out the necklace.

She reached around her neck and fastened the clasp herself.

The moment it clicked shut, the back of her neck burned again.

She'd fastened it herself.

But the spot remembered the warmth of his fingers from that afternoon.

Tsunade closed her eyes.

"...Jerk."

Her voice was very soft.

The corners of her mouth curled upward.