Birthday

Nawaki's birthday banquet was set in the old Senju estate.

A large table was laid out in the courtyard, laden with a few hearty dishes and a flask of wine.

Tsunade sat at the head of the table and poured herself a drink.

Kitahara Kaede sat opposite her, looking toward the inner room.

Nawaki had yet to emerge.

"What is he dawdling for?" Tsunade frowned.

The door to the inner room was pushed open with a bang.

Twelve-year-old Nawaki burst out, his newly issued genin forehead protector polished to a shine, tied crookedly across his brow.

He was completely oblivious to it, but his voice arrived before he did—

"Sis!"

He plopped down next to Tsunade, chin held high.

"Just you watch, in two years at most, I'll surpass you!"

Tsunade was holding her wine cup and nearly spat it out.

"Two years?"

She set the cup down and slapped Nawaki on the head.

The already crooked forehead protector was knocked even further askew.

"Learn to throw a shuriken straight before you start bragging."

"That was last month! I can hit seven out of ten now!"

"People with real talent hit all ten."

"That's why I still have three years to practice!"

Tsunade was choked up by his righteous indignation. Unable to do anything with him, she reached out and straightened his forehead protector.

"Eat."

Nawaki picked up his bowl, scanned the table, and suddenly his chopsticks paused.

"Brother Kaede! When did you get here?"

Kitahara Kaede was sitting right across from him, less than two steps away.

"I've been here the whole time."

"Then why didn't you call me!"

"You were in the inner room practicing tying your forehead protector in front of the mirror, back and forth six times. You wouldn't have heard me even if I had."

Nawaki's entire face turned bright red.

Tsunade let out a laugh from the side.

Nawaki stomped his feet in annoyance, but the next second he forgot all about it. He moved his stool around to Kitahara Kaede's side, propped his chin on his hands, and leaned in.

"Brother Kaede, that infiltration mission you went on in the Land of Rain last time, what was it actually like?"

"It was an intelligence mission. There was no fighting."

"Liar! How could an jonin-level intelligence mission not involve any fighting!"

Kitahara Kaede didn't take the bait; he picked up a piece of grilled saury and placed it in his bowl.

"Eat."

"You do this every time!"

Nawaki muttered, but he obediently stuffed the fish into his mouth.

After chewing twice, he still wasn't satisfied and mumbled half a sentence.

"What about the northwest—"

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Nawaki puffed out his cheeks and glared at him.

Kitahara Kaede reached out and ruffled his hair.

The kid's anger vanished instantly. He chuckled, shrank back, and ate his meal quietly for two minutes.

Tsunade didn't interrupt.

She watched the scene.

Nawaki's clingy nature was no different than when he was seven or eight, only he was a head taller now.

Her gaze drifted away from Nawaki at some point, landing on the face of the man beside him who was busy picking at his food.

The porch light shone on his profile.

Tsunade took a sip of wine and pulled her gaze back.

"Oh, right."

Nawaki suddenly set down his chopsticks.

He looked at Tsunade, then at Kitahara Kaede, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across his face.

Tsunade's intuition flared.

But it was already too late.

"Brother Kaede, are you actually my sister's boyfriend or not?"

The table went quiet.

The chopsticks in Tsunade's hand froze in mid-air.

Her first instinct was to beat the kid up.

But her body was a beat slower than her brain—because in that same instant, she noticed the gaze beside her shift.

Kitahara Kaede was looking at her.

It wasn't the subconscious flinching one might have when asked an awkward question.

He just looked at her.

Very quietly, very directly.

As if he were looking at an answer that had been decided long ago.

The moment Tsunade met those eyes, her heart skipped a beat.

The blood rushed up.

From the base of her neck to the tips of her ears, too fast to stop.

She wanted to glare back, but her throat tightened, and she couldn't say a word.

Three seconds.

Tsunade was the first to break.

She turned her face away, stood up, and slammed a fist onto the top of Nawaki's head.

"What does that have to do with you!"

"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch—!"

Nawaki clutched his head and crouched down.

But the corners of his mouth were curled up.

He wasn't stupid.

His sister's reaction just now—avoiding eye contact, red ears, standing up to hit him—this combination was more effective than a hundred "yeses."

He climbed up while rubbing his head and, while Tsunade wasn't looking, winked at Kitahara Kaede.

Kitahara Kaede looked at him and shook his head slightly.

This kid.

Tsunade sat back down and picked up her cup to hide half her face.

The heat in her ears hadn't faded yet.

He had sent that look without any defenses, and she had caught it all without any defenses.

And just like that, in front of him, she felt like a fifteen-year-old girl—ears burning red.

Tsunade gritted her teeth in secret.

"Brother Kaede!"

Nawaki had already jumped up, pulling a practice kunai from behind his waist and waving it around.

"One round! Target practice!"

Kitahara Kaede glanced at Tsunade.

She was staring intently at a plate of edamame, her expression as if the beans owed her five thousand ryo.

"Go on, go on," she waved her hand without looking up. "Don't be an eyesore here."

The two went around to the target range behind the courtyard.

After three rounds, Nawaki hit six, and Kitahara Kaede hit five.

The last shot had been off by two inches.

Nawaki hadn't noticed.

"I won! Brother Kaede, I won!"

A twelfth birthday, winning a round against the person he admired most.

He could be happy about this for half a year.

"Good luck," Kitahara Kaede patted his shoulder.

Nawaki grinned until his face turned bright red, dragging him back toward the table.

Tsunade hadn't moved from her spot.

But that position was just right for seeing the target range.

She had seen that last round.

The moment Kitahara Kaede released his throw, his wrist had shifted by two inches.

A jonin throwing a shuriken, and it misses by two inches?

Tsunade held her empty wine cup, the corners of her mouth curving upward.

She didn't even realize it herself.

Afterward, Nawaki was like a sparrow that couldn't stop chirping, talking about training, then his classmates, then what missions he wanted to take in the future, his hands gesturing so wildly he nearly knocked over the dishes.

Kitahara Kaede listened quietly, occasionally responding.

Tsunade watched the two from across the table, not interrupting.

Gradually, Nawaki's speech slowed, and his eyelids drooped.

He propped his chin up, his voice becoming increasingly slurred.

"...and then for that mission I... I..."

His head tilted, and he slumped onto the table.

Tsunade sighed, stood up, took off her coat, and draped it over him, tucking it in around his collar.

Nawaki hummed, huddled under the coat, and a line of drool leaked from the corner of his mouth.

—He was asleep. Or at least, he looked like it.

Tsunade looked at Kitahara Kaede.

He understood; there was something to be said in private.

He nodded, bent down, and picked Nawaki up.

Tsunade pushed open the door to the inner room, and Kitahara Kaede stepped inside, laid the boy on the futon, and covered him with the coat.

Nawaki rolled over, hugged the corner of the quilt, and muttered a dream-mumble that was impossible to understand.

The two stepped back out.

The wind in the courtyard had turned cool.

Tsunade walked to the porch and leaned against a pillar.

Kitahara Kaede stopped beside her, half a step away.

"There's something I want to tell you."

Tsunade spoke first.

"Hmm."

"I want you to be Nawaki's teacher."

Kitahara Kaede didn't answer immediately; he looked toward the inner room.

That little brat who had been chasing him for over a decade.

Every time they met, he would pester him with questions, and he could jump for joy just for winning one round of kunai throwing.

He withdrew his gaze.

"Alright."

Tsunade looked at his profile.

"If you don't teach him well..."

"Then what?"

"I'll beat you up."

"Fair enough."

Tsunade crossed her arms and looked down at her toes.

There was more she wanted to say, but the words lost their meaning the moment they reached her lips, leaving only that.

A rustling sound suddenly came from the inner room.

With a dull thud, the door was kicked open from the inside.

Nawaki came sprinting out.

"Really?! Brother Kaede is going to be my teacher?!"

A vein pulsed on Tsunade's temple.

"When did you wake up?"

Nawaki shrank back a step, feeling guilty, but he didn't mince words.

"Since the part where you said, 'there's something I want to tell you.'"

Tsunade took a deep breath.

Nawaki quickly assessed the danger level of the situation as S-rank, side-stepped behind Kitahara Kaede, and poked his head out from under his arm.

"Teacher! Do we start tomorrow? What are we training first?"

Kitahara Kaede shifted his body, refusing to shield him.

Nawaki was exposed within Tsunade's striking range, and he instinctively ducked his head—but Tsunade didn't strike.

He gathered his courage, hopped out, and stood straight in front of Kitahara Kaede.

He looked up, his eyes shining with an intensity that was hard to believe.

"Teacher!"

Kitahara Kaede looked down at him.

He reached out and pressed a hand onto his shoulder.

"Follow me, the first rule."

Nawaki's smile faded slightly, and he straightened his back.

"Stay alive. That's more important than anything else."

Nawaki didn't quite grasp the weight of those words.

He was still just a twelve-year-old boy who had just received his forehead protector; the battlefield was too far away, and death even further.

But he saw the look in Kaede's eyes.

It was different from usual—not the casual touch when ruffling his hair, not the gentleness when picking food for him.

"Got it!"

Nawaki nodded heavily.

Kitahara Kaede let go and ruffled his hair.

"Go back to sleep. The day after tomorrow, five-thirty in the morning."

"Fi... five-thirty?"

"Think it's too early?"

"Not at all! Not early at all!"

Nawaki turned and ran inside, then doubled back after two steps, grinning.

"Brother Kaede, thank you."

He vanished in a flash.

The door closed.

The courtyard fell silent, leaving only the two of them.

Tsunade leaned back against the pillar, looking up at the moon above the eaves.

They were silent for a while.

"That thing you said just now."

"Which part?"

"That staying alive is more important than anything else."

She turned her head to look at him.

"Do you think the same for yourself?"

Kitahara Kaede didn't answer.

The night breeze blew, and the silver chain at Tsunade's neck swayed gently.

She waited a few seconds, but it didn't come.

"That's one more answer you owe me."

"I'll pay them back another day."

"You say that every time."

Kitahara Kaede turned his head to look at her.

The moonlight was faint, just enough to illuminate half of her face.

"Let's wait until the war is over."

Tsunade didn't respond.

She lowered her eyes, her lips moving slightly.

She didn't say it out loud.

A long while later.

She gave a soft, "Mm."