On the twenty-fifth day, Shuo was jolted awake by the noise, so annoyed he nearly hurled his pillow.
It was no ordinary racket, but the kind that seemed to shake the entire village-footsteps, roars calling people to assemble, and the sharp clash of weapons poured in from every direction, making his head ache.
He snapped his eyes open and sat up, his hair a mess and his eyes still heavy with sleep.
He glanced sideways at the bed opposite him. The quilt was neatly folded, and the space by the window was empty. Sai had gone out again.
He dawdled out of bed, walked to the window, and yanked the curtains open-the street below was utter chaos, packed with ninja in combat uniforms, running, shouting, and rushing toward the village gates in squads, a dizzying mass of people.
He simply leaned against the windowsill and watched sidelong for three seconds without speaking, then turned to wash up. His movements were lazy and unhurried, utterly unaffected by the panic, as though the clamor downstairs had nothing to do with him.
He had just finished wiping his face when the door opened and Sai hurried inside, empty-handed, without even his usual paper bag.
"No breakfast," he said softly, with a hint of resignation. "The cafeteria's closed, and so are all the shops on the street. Even the general store's owner has gone into hiding."
Shuo nodded, looking completely indifferent, then turned and rummaged through the cabinet for two bags of candy-some he had saved earlier and never finished.
He tossed one bag to Sai and said lazily, "Make do with this. Eat on the way. We can't go hungry."
They went downstairs, where the street was even more chaotic. Someone shouted at the top of their lungs, "Team B, assemble! At the