Dangerous and Mercenary

By the time they left the ramen shop, night had settled in.

Shikamaru Nara, Choji Akimichi, and Ino Yamanaka headed home along the street. Choji had opened another bag of chips, and crunching followed them all the way.

As they walked, Ino Yamanaka finally couldn't hold back anymore.

"Hey, Shikamaru." She took a few quick steps around to face him, walking backward as she studied his face. "What was going on between you and that transfer student back at the shop?"

"Nothing."

Shikamaru Nara rested his hands behind his head and looked away.

"I just asked about something I was interested in."

Now that was a surprise.

Ino Yamanaka had been his classmate for years. Since when had this guy ever answered a question so vaguely? Usually, he either couldn't be bothered to answer or shut her down with a single sentence. Today, that "nothing" hadn't sounded convincing at all.

"Ohhh?" Ino Yamanaka drew out the word, pressing him relentlessly. "What could possibly get you that interested? He was long gone, and you were still staring at the door."

"If you ask me..." She stretched out the words, then enunciated each one. "It wasn't about anything at all. You just got smitten because he's pretty!"

Pretty?

Shikamaru Nara's steps slowed half a beat, almost imperceptibly.

Now that Ino had mentioned it, he remembered-

When that person had leaned close earlier, his face had been only a fist's width away.

Red strands of hair had fallen down and brushed his ear, tickling it. Those eyes had curved into a smile, and his lashes had cast two little shadows under the lights. With each blink, the shadows had gently shifted.

And then there was that napkin. Through the thin layer of paper, he'd pressed against the corner of Shikamaru's mouth, neither too lightly nor too firmly.

When he'd spoken, his voice had been soft and unhurried, his breath brushing Shikamaru's ear.

That face really had been almost unfairly beautiful.

But...

Shikamaru Nara shook his head.

"That's not why."

"Then why?"

"Shikamaru wouldn't get like this just because a girl was pretty."

Beside them, Choji Akimichi chimed in indistinctly through a mouthful of chips.

"We grew up with him. We know that much." Choji swallowed and thought for a moment. "I'm guessing it was something they talked about?"

Shikamaru Nara said nothing more.

He neither confirmed nor denied it, simply continuing forward in silence.

That counted as tacit agreement.

Ino Yamanaka looked from one to the other, the curiosity in her eyes burning brighter and brighter.

Something they talked about?

What on earth could someone say to turn Shikamaru into a block of wood?

"No way." She suddenly stopped, stamped her foot, and declared, "Tomorrow at school, I'm dragging Sakura along to get a good look at this transfer student and find out just who he is!"

Meanwhile.

After parting ways with Naruto and Iruka, Uzumaki Hayashi ambled toward his little house alone.

The night breeze blew away much of the broth smell clinging to him, and he was in an excellent mood.

He'd scored a free meal and put that clever kid in his place. All in all, a perfect day.

Just as the house came into view, he abruptly stopped.

A pitch-black figure stood motionless at the door, as though nailed to the spot.

Uzumaki Hayashi's heart lurched.

That getup...

Root?

Well, damn. The king of scapegoats couldn't wait, huh? The Third shot him down this afternoon, and now he's come straight to my doorstep tonight?

Uzumaki Hayashi held his breath, quietly edged backward, and shrank into the shadows beside the road.

That afternoon, the masked Root operative had entered the Hokage's office right in front of him. He figured the Third had rejected the request on the spot, but did the king of scapegoats seem like the sort to let things go?

I can't beat him. Definitely can't.

Maybe I shouldn't go home tonight? Crash at Iruka's place? Or camp out in front of the Hokage Building? Nobody would dare attack me there-

No, wait a moment first.

He steadied himself, closed his eyes, and cautiously extended a thread of his perception.

The Mind's Eye of the Kagura swept over the dark figure.

Huh?

Uzumaki Hayashi paused in surprise.

The figure's chakra was quiet and calm, without the slightest malice. Never mind malice-he couldn't detect even a trace of negative emotion. If anything, the figure seemed a little... sleepy?

He tentatively took another two steps forward.

Hearing the movement, the figure turned around. Beneath the moonlight, a white mask came into view. The cloak's design was also different from that of the Root operative in the office that afternoon.

So it was ANBU.

Uzumaki Hayashi breathed a sigh of relief and finally walked over.

"Excuse me, are you here for me?"

The ANBU operative glanced at him, pulled an envelope from inside his cloak, and tossed it over.

Uzumaki Hayashi scrambled to catch it.

"Lord Third forgot to set aside your living allowance for this month," the ANBU operative said evenly. "He only remembered today and sent me to deliver it. There are banknotes inside."

Oh!

My living allowance!

Uzumaki Hayashi's eyes lit up on the spot. He'd known it—the old man had simply forgotten! And now he'd remembered!

"Thank you, Third!" Holding the envelope in both hands, he called out a hearty thanks in the direction of the Hokage Building.

The ANBU operative nodded and turned to leave.

"Um, wait!"

The ANBU operative looked back.

Clutching the envelope, Redhead gave him a solemn, earnest bow.

"Thank you, too. You came all this way so late at night. Thanks for the effort."

The ANBU operative remained where he stood, lowering his head to take another look at the child.

A little Redhead, holding that envelope. The bow he'd just given had been so proper that there wasn't a single fault to find.

In his line of work, this was the first time anyone had thanked him while he wore this mask.

Beneath the mask, a sickly face froze for a moment before breaking into a faint, involuntary smile.

"...You're welcome."

The ANBU operative coughed softly twice, left him with those words, and vanished into the night with a flicker.

Back inside, Uzumaki Hayashi emptied the envelope onto the table and counted the notes one by one.

He finished counting.

Exactly fifty thousand yen.

He counted on his fingers-even using the most expensive bowl of ramen as a benchmark, this was enough for more than fifty meals in a row at Ichiraku Ramen, the best ramen shop in Konoha!

Damn, the old man really is generous.

Thoroughly satisfied, Uzumaki Hayashi put the banknotes away, flopped onto the bed, and began making plans for tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he would return to school.

He wondered what expressions those brats would wear when they saw him tomorrow. If another idiot jumped out to start trouble-

He licked his lips.

He still hadn't properly tested his perfected Vacuum Sphere.

Just the thing: a few fresh targets to beat up.