"It's all right. The client's comfort comes first." Kabuto Yakushi walked behind the broad desk and sat down, folding his hands on its surface in the practiced posture of a listener.
"Now then, Mr. Sakata, can you tell me what's been troubling you enough to bring you here today?"
Gintoki Sakata did not answer at once. He stared at the ceiling as though gathering his thoughts—or watching something.
After a while, he drawled, "Back when I was traveling around and scrounging for meals, I happened to visit Konoha.
"Gotta say, they did a great job rebuilding it. Especially that orphanage..."
He paused, his gaze drifting toward Kabuto as if by chance. "Big, bright place. The kids looked pretty lively, too."
"Seemed a lot better than the orphanages here in Kumogakure. Wouldn't you say, Dr. Loid?"
At the words Konoha Orphanage, the air seemed to freeze for an instant.
The warm concern Kabuto wore as "Loid Forger" drained from his face, replaced by a cold, almost inhuman scrutiny.
He neither summoned Chakra nor reached for a weapon, yet the pressure in the room seemed to drop.
"Who are you?" Kabuto's voice had lost all pretense. There was something serpentine and dangerous in it.
Gintoki finally sat up straight on the sofa. Instead of answering, he raised his head, his once-lazy eyes now clear and sharp.
He swept the consultation room with a swift, practiced gaze: the ceiling corners, the wall lamps, the gaps in the bookshelves, even the insides of the potted plants.
"Relax." Kabuto spoke coldly and pressed a hidden spot on the desk. A faint glimmer of Chakra, barely visible to the naked eye, flickered across the walls and vanished.
"This is Twilight's private safe house. Apart from the basic soundproofing Barrier I set up, there are no listening