Danzo blocked his path

October 11, after school.

The moment Kiyoshi left the school gates, he sensed something was wrong.

Usually, after school, a shadow waited under the eaves diagonally across the street.

Today there were two, standing beneath the third tree south of the school gates, white masks on either side, making no attempt to hide.

The crowd flowed around them.

Kiyoshi neither stopped nor quickened his pace.

Instead, something settled inside him: what was coming had finally arrived.

Those seven questions two nights ago, and the lone eye deep in the alley yesterday morning, had all been passing a message to these two masks.

Once the goods had been inspected, it was time to talk price.

"Uchiha Kiyoshi." The one on the left spoke, his voice as flat as ever. "Come with us."

"Where?"

"Root."

"What kind of place is Root?"

"A place that will teach you Ninjutsu," the one on the right answered. "You'll have somewhere to live and someone to feed you. Everything your current teacher can't teach you, we have there."

Kiyoshi stood in the tree's shade and listened to their sales pitch with an expressionless face.

Food, lodging, Ninjutsu lessons.

They were delivering this pitch to a six-year-old in complete seriousness.

He nearly laughed, but held it in.

He knew this pitch.

He had come across anti-scam videos in his previous life. The wording was almost identical, except those promised cash gifts, while these promised Ninjutsu.

[Awkwardness value +10]

"Nice benefits," he said. "For how many years?"

"Until you die."

"Sounds like selling myself."

Neither mask answered.

Several parents in the crowd took the long way around. One carrying a child glanced back, while a woman with a grocery basket actually stopped to watch before her companion pulled her away.

The conversation beneath the tree sounded less like adults talking to a child and more like two parties negotiating a deal, with only the formal terms missing from the table.

Just then, the sound of a cane tapping the ground came from the alley beside them.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Unhurried, each strike carrying the same weight.

Both masks straightened at once.

Kiyoshi did not turn around. He had no need to.

Few people on this street could make their footsteps sound that composed. He had just heard them yesterday morning.

A figure emerged halfway from the alley's shadows.

A kimono, bandages around his jaw and over his right eye, leaving only one eye exposed.

That eye settled on him without blinking, as though weighing merchandise.

Yesterday had been an inspection.

Today, the buyer had come to collect in person.

"Mister, you're blocking my way," Kiyoshi said.

Ten paces away, the woman buying groceries froze with her hand out.

The person carrying a child simply stayed put and watched.

The white mask to the left of the alley entrance spoke in a voice without a trace of inflection. "Come with us. Your parents have already agreed."

"Are you taking a household census, mister?" Kiyoshi looked at the mask on the left, then the one on the right, and finally the lone eye at the alley entrance. "My name is Uchiha Kiyoshi. I'm six years old, 117 centimeters tall, and weigh 20 kilograms. I live in Naka River, third district. I'm a first-year student at the Ninja Academy, seated by the window in the eleventh row. Which details did you need? I've read them out myself, so you don't have to bother remembering them."

[Awkwardness value +13]

The two white masks exchanged a glance.

Their masks hid their expressions, but the lines of their shoulders gave them away: both stiffened for half a beat, and neither answered.

That lone eye watched him for a long time.

Long enough for sweat to soak a small patch of the undershirt against Kiyoshi's back. Long enough for him to watch an ant on the bark complete a full circuit.

He knew who owned that eye.

The man from the book.

The first to sign his name on the list.

He understood this much perfectly: he was six, 117 centimeters tall, and the other man could crush him with one finger.

Fear would solve nothing. Pretending not to be afraid would solve nothing either, but pretending would not kill him.

"No hurry." The figure leaning on the cane spoke softly, every word carefully weighed. "Courtesy first. Whatever the child wants, give it to him."

Kiyoshi turned sideways, stepped through the gap between the two masks, and added over his shoulder.

"If you're not in a hurry, misters, I'll be going. Bye, misters."

The mask on the left tilted his head slightly.

It looked like a sigh, or perhaps the man behind the mask was adjusting his breathing.

[Awkwardness value +10]

[face value +200: remained unruffled when Root blocked his path to recruit him ("Mister, you're blocking my way"). Total: face value 300.]

He walked toward the Naka River.

Five or six steps later, a crow rose from the roof ridge across the street, gave one short call, and flew north.

Kiyoshi withdrew his gaze.

One call was enough. Nothing extra.

This bird worked just like he did.

Shisui arrived sooner than Kiyoshi had expected.

There was no white flash from the Body Flicker Technique. He simply walked out of the crowd, carrying a bag of freshly bought bean sprouts, as though he had happened to pass by.

He stopped in front of Kiyoshi, placing the child exactly one step behind him.

The movement was natural, as though he had done it countless times.

"Two kids blocking a six-year-old after school." Shisui switched the bag of bean sprouts to his other hand, smiling, his voice quiet. "I don't know Root's rules. But I know one of our clan's: whichever office an Uchiha child joins, it has to go through the clan head."

"Lord Danzo approved this personally."

"You only came knocking the night before last, and today you're blocking the school gates." Shisui smiled. "Wouldn't all that diligence be better spent guarding your own home?"

The cane tapped the ground at the alley entrance.

"Shisui."

Just one name.

The lone eye in the shadows turned toward him, facing him directly for the first time.

The smile remained on Shisui's face, but his shoulders sank a fraction.

Standing diagonally behind him, Kiyoshi could not see Shisui's face, but he could see the alley entrance: the cane and its owner advanced no farther, remaining where they were.

"The child can choose for himself," Danzo said.

"A six-year-old doesn't choose. He gets chosen," Shisui said. "Get the approval, and I'll take him there. Without it..." He glanced at Kiyoshi. "I'll walk him home after school. From now on, this stretch is on my way."

He switched the bag of bean sprouts to his other hand.

The motion was casual, but his position was carefully chosen: Kiyoshi stood behind him to one side, the two masks stood left and right, and neither could get around him.

The mask on the left glanced at the one on the right.

Kiyoshi spoke then, addressing the masks, though it also sounded like an offhand remark to Shisui:

"I'm not going. Big Brother Shisui said he'd teach me until graduation."

Shisui's hand holding the bean sprouts paused for half a beat.

The mask on the right spoke in a monotone. "Lord Shisui, is that true?"

Shisui glanced at Kiyoshi. Just once. Then he said, "It is."

Kiyoshi kept his eyes lowered.

He accepted the meaning of that glance: Shisui had taken this on.

When they reported back, they would have to write that Shisui was competing with Root for a recruit.

That was exactly the line he wanted in the report.

The lone eye at the alley entrance studied each of the three beneath the tree, then returned to Shisui's face and lingered there.

"Loyalty," Danzo said. "That depends on whose loyalty it is."

The cane's tapping receded into the alley. Tap, tap, tap, each strike still carrying the same weight.

The two masks followed. Their white silhouettes merged into the crowd, their direction impossible to make out.

[Awkwardness value +5]

The sounds of the street returned.

Shisui stood holding the bean sprouts without moving for a long while.

"Those words," he said. "I never said them."

"You have now."

Shisui looked down at him for a while, then suddenly laughed so hard his shoulders shook.

The bag of bean sprouts rustled.

"All right," he said. "Until graduation."

Only after they had walked two streets and confirmed there were no white figures ahead or behind did Shisui speak, his voice turning grave.

"The one-eyed man. When did that happen?"

"Yesterday morning. Deep in an alley in the shopping district. A cane, one eye. He watched me for a long time," Kiyoshi said. "Those two today were his men. He was there himself, too."

"I know he was there." Shisui spoke slowly. "By coming out where he could be seen, he was telling me he was there."

Shisui fell silent and walked another dozen paces.

He had long since returned the lantern to his team. His hands were empty, but his fingers remained clenched.

"He knows the crow is mine."

"It was on the wall during the morning assembly."

"He even knows what happened to you on Back Mountain," Shisui said. "He isn't investigating you. He's telling me: I can see every connection you have."

Kiyoshi did not answer.

He had thought of that yesterday: the one-eyed man had shown himself to look at Kiyoshi, but the person he was weighing was Shisui.

The reasoning was simple: what that man wanted lay behind Shisui.

Kiyoshi was merely the fuse held up to his lips.

"From now on, the crow will follow you after school," Shisui said. "I'll handle this. Stay out of it."

"Oh."

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you," Kiyoshi said. "Then give me half those bean sprouts. A fee for keeping quiet."

Shisui pushed the bag into his hands without smiling.

Kiyoshi took it.

It was pretty heavy. Enough to feed that bird until next week.

Before they parted, Shisui stopped at the alley entrance and looked back at him.

The setting sun stretched his shadow long. That face, so often smiling, held little trace of a smile today.

Kiyoshi stood with the bean sprouts in his hand, suddenly feeling that this scene was rather familiar.

In a drama he had watched in his previous life, there had also been someone who always smiled, who turned back to leave one final instruction after shielding others from trouble.

"Kiyoshi."

"Yeah?"

"Once you enter a place like that, you can never get out. From now on, no matter who comes to tell you anything, report it higher up. Tell me."

Kiyoshi nodded.

He did not tell Shisui that he already knew that place.

He also knew what that lone eye ultimately wanted: Shisui's eyes, and every person Shisui stood between him and.

In the original story, this was what had brought Shisui down.

That night was less than a year away.

This time, he had to stop that lone eye from taking what he wanted.

If that failed, he would find another way to keep this crow alive well beyond that year.

The panel flashed inside his cuff, and he glanced again at the new number.

Before the system paid out big money, little sums like these always came knocking first.

Home. The grilled fish and taro were still warming in the pot.

He separated a small handful of bean sprouts and placed them on the outer edge of the windowsill, where the bird often landed.

The bird did not come that night. There was no hurry.

Everything that needed doing was still there. None of it was going anywhere.

The skin of the grilled fish in the pot had started to char. He turned it over and lowered the heat.