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hauntedhokage · 1 year

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Training

Itachi Uchiha/F!Reader

summary: you didn’t think the day you were actually on your own would be harder than having years of training crammed into six months.

word count: 3.1k

Part One | Part Two

AO3 Link

Itachi and Kisame still had work to do, so Itachi training you required that you travel with them. You’d been told to pack light, necessities only, and given some time before departure to get clothes that would fit and be comfortable to travel in. You go about that task on your own, being told where a shop was where you could get those necessities that you needed. It was easy to travel light when you had no possessions aside from the heavy medical kit (that would need to be swapped out for something lighter), so you started with buying a backpack that you’d then use to gauge how much you needed to buy.

And that’s how you end up walking between Kisame and Itachi; your white cloak a stark contrast between their black ones and a white bag at your side that held all of your medical tools (and the book that told you how to use them). Towards the Land of Wind, apparently, but you weren’t sure for what since you weren’t present for that briefing.

“No wonder Samehada gets so excited with you around,” Kisame states once he’s tired of the silence, and you look around in confusion trying to find where there was another person around.

“The sword,” Itachi informs, ending your confusion (much to Kisame’s annoyance). “Kisame is one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, and Samehada is a very important sword.”

“It absorbs chakra, and you’re a fountain of it.” Should you be standing so close, then? It didn’t seem wise to be near a blade that would take energy from you. Itachi didn't seem concerned, though, so maybe it wasn’t a big deal.

“Is that why it’s all wrapped up?” The question sparks a true introduction to the specifics and mechanics of the large blade, and you surprise both men by being deeply invested in such specifics of a blade that you’d never be able to touch.

By the time you’ve asked all your questions and Kisame has thoroughly answered them, it’s already sundown and time to find a place to rest for the night. You’d been told that due to the nature of their…reputations, for lack of a better word, they weren’t able to rest at inns or anywhere comfortable too often and mostly camped out. Something you simply took as life as a shinobi (or shinobi adjacent, in your case), and followed as they scoped out the different potential campsites until Kisame found a cave by the river that “would do”.

“I’ll go catch dinner,” the taller of the two states, earning a nod from Itachi as he started a fire in the cave. They clearly had a practiced routine for their travels, you didn’t yet have a real task to perform. Depending on how long you were kept around to be trained, you’d likely be given your own task but for now you’re content to sit and watch as Itachi builds the fire with a practiced skill that your father didn’t even have.

“Give me your hand,” Itachi requests once he’s satisfied with the fire, and you don’t hesitate to push your sleeve up so you could actually see the hand you were placing in his waiting one. “I’d like for you to try to push my hand but without moving either of yours.”

“Push, but without moving?”

“I’m certain you’ve felt the energy in your body; experienced the way it can shift with particular moods? Direct that into your hand and try to push my hand off of yours. But keep in mind that since it’s a combination of your physical and spiritual energy, chakra will feed off of your mood which will impact its efficiency. It’s best if you focus solely on your goal.”

So you look just at his hand, knowing that watching him watch you was just going to make you nervous. It wasn’t his fault or yours that he was pretty, but you couldn’t let him distract you when he was trying to train you. But by looking at his hand you realize that his nails are freshly painted, and you feel just how soft they are despite being the hands of a shinobi. He was able to keep his hands soft and you were going to need to get tips. His hand is also warm, enveloping yours as he holds it loosely, and the thought crosses your mind at how much you’d like for him to hold your hand more.

“You’re not focusing.”

“How am I supposed to push?”

“Think about severing the connection between my hand and yours, use that to focus your chakra to your hand. I’ll be able to feel it, even if it’s weak, I just need to know if you can.”

“And what does that prove?”

“It’ll prove that we don’t need to start at the very basics.” He doesn’t say anything else, and you look back down at his hand since that was enough. It didn’t need to be perfect, it just needed to happen and you were certain you could make it happen.

Push the energy into my hand. Push his hand off of my hand. You repeat the instructions in your head, letting your eyes close so you could focus on the energy you were trying to push into your hand and push his hand away. Your hand feels warm and, even though you’re not sure if it means progress, you keep pushing anyway until you feel something different. Almost like a spark, but it was there.

“Well done,” Itachi states, and you open your eyes to see a gap between your hands but he’s still got a slight grip around your palm. “I wasn't expecting that much energy.”

“No?”

“Chakra control like this is a somewhat advanced skill most shinobi don’t learn until after their academy training. For you to already be able to direct chakra to a body part and use it to force another object, me in this case, when you just learned what chakra was yesterday is impressive.”

Oh, that was…you actually didn’t know what to say. Is this why your parents kept you away from shinobi? Did they know that you would be like this?

“You would have been an exceptional shinobi now, had you been trained when most started their training.”

But you hadn’t, so you weren’t, and had no chance at being even a good shinobi. You really didn’t want that now, you just wanted to be of use now that you’d been given a chance outside of the tea house. You owed Itachi the life you had now, even if he wouldn’t say so himself.

Three months of traveling had you stronger and faster than you’d ever imagined you could be. Once your chakra control was to a level that Itachi liked, where you were able to at the very least run along water, he had started training your sensory abilities while Kisame pushed you through combat drills. It was needless to say that you slept soundly every night since they pushed you past the point of exhaustion almost every day while also traveling.

Six months had you to a point where you were close to being able to handle Kisame in just taijutsu. You were just a hair faster than the swordsman, which provided you with enough of an advantage against his sheer strength that you had managed to beat him once - which was enough. You knew some ninjutsu now as well, something that Kisame got to help with as well when they’d realized you had a water nature to your chakra and decided teaching you water based jutsu would likely go faster than the arsenal of fire type that Itachi had at his disposal. Itachi did teach you the shadow clone jutsu and substitution jutsu, but Kisame provided you with plenty of water based techniques - mostly defensive but a couple that would kill if you needed them to.

And it was then that they returned you back to Amegakure. You were able to defend yourself against two S-ranked criminals who were only slightly going easy on you, you could defend against a jonin level or lower who crossed your path with bad intentions. Or if one of the Amegakure shinobi who were against Pain decided to start something when they saw the cloud on your cloak.

“Itachi,” you start one morning, looking out at the lake you were camped at while Kisame treated himself to a morning swim. The man beside you gives only a hum to indicate that he was listening, as he was looking out at the water despite you looking at him. “I just wanted to say thanks, for giving me this new life. I’m truly grateful to you for taking me away that night, and for training me these few months. You didn’t have to do any of that, but you did anyway. But I need to ask why you insisted on training me? Pain and Konan were certain that I’d be safe in Amegakure.”

“Even the most peaceful places have their dark spots. You’d be wise to remember that.” WIth that he stands, and you watch him walk back to where all of your gear was with a frown on your face. Did you upset him somehow? If so, how? All you did was ask why he wanted to train you, especially when he had other things to do that were likely much more important.

But Kisame is leaving the water, which signals to you that the time to get ready to leave is the present and you stand to follow Itachi to the campsite so you could gather your own things and be ready to leave.

You didn’t want to upset him further by not being ready when he was.

It was a week before you’re back in Amegakure, walking around the abandoned clinic that you’d make your own. It looked to have been freshly cleaned, and you’re relieved to see that there’s an upper level that you could make your personal home. Not that you didn’t want to be near your leaders, but the tower was drafty and you got cold easily.

Speaking of cold, in that week you hadn’t said a word to Itachi. He wasn’t talking so you only spoke to Kisame and let the rogue Mist shinobi deal with the wrath of the Uchiha if he wanted to try and get a reaction out of the shorter man. You didn’t think you’d done or said anything wrong, so you weren’t going to apologize. If he wanted to be like that then he could be.

But it did suck a little bit, since he was always rather insightful or knew something about a bird flying overhead or flora that was around.

“Those are quality herbs for stopping blood flow,” he’d said once, after you and Kisame had incorrectly identified it as some kind of weed. And now you had a jar of it sitting on a shelf, something you couldn’t stop looking at because he’d carefully collected them for you. You weren’t going to say anything but he was your stupid friend who was being stupid and you felt the tears in your eyes before you could stop them. You were crying because Itachi wasn’t talking to you, which felt silly because he rarely talked to anyone as it was, but it seemed like he enjoyed talking to you while you were traveling together. Maybe you were just projecting your own feelings? You weren’t sure that you’d ever know.

“What do you want?” you ask without turning around, knowing by the chakra presence that it was Itachi who was standing in your new home.

“I was trying to suppress my chakra, so I’m surprised you were able to sense me.”

“And why are you wanting to sneak up on me?”

“Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“Because I don’t want to.” Is all you say, crossing your arms over your chest while keeping your gaze fixed on the jars of herbs you’d collected over the months. “It’s my clinic, I can do what I want.”

“Fair enough.” He sounds closer now, his presence feeling much larger than it had before and to your left rather than being behind you. He was going to make you look at him.

“Why do you want to talk to me now? You seemed pretty content ignoring me on the trip back here.”

“Kisame and I will be leaving at dusk, and I didn’t want to leave on these terms.” That was rich, and your irritation at his words has you forgetting about the fact that you were just crying over the man, so you turn to face him with every intent of telling him off like you would a customer who thought he could get grabby. “You’ve been crying.”

“Shut up! You don’t get to ignore me for a week, then walk in here like nothing’s wrong and then point out the obvious as if you care!” You shout, not even caring that the people might’ve been able to hear the village’s new doctor yelling at Itachi Uchiha, of all people. “All I did was thank you, and ask why you wanted to train me and that’s grounds to walk away and ignore me for a week!? And you’re only here now because you’re going to leave for who knows how long and you’re not going to have to deal with the repercussions of your actions!”

It’s quiet again, Itachi watching as you wipe at your eyes not with your sleeve but with the handkerchief you kept in a pocket of your cloak. You still didn’t want to risk getting it dirty, even with your own tears.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he says at first, but it’s enough to have you stopping to stare at him as you process that. You don’t think you’d ever heard him apologize to anybody, not even Kisame, so to have him apologizing to you was…odd. You almost weren’t sure that this was Itachi standing before you since this behavior wasn’t normal by your understanding of the man. “You’re right, I should not have reacted that way, and I want to apologize because hurting you was not my intent but it happened anyway, and I owe you that much.”

Was he feeling okay? He had to have a fever or something, that really was the only explanation for this. Either that or you were hallucinating - maybe you had a fever? You were feeling warm, but your face always felt warm after crying.

“I don’t want to leave with you being upset over how I treated you, so I am asking if you could forgive me.”

“That doesn’t sound like a question, Itachi,” you comment, smirking behind your collar as his body visibly stiffens. “Felt more like a statement of fact than a question, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath, clearly on the brink of annoyance now that you’ve recovered from your crying fit. You watch as his eyes close for a moment, but when they open it’s not the Sharigan staring back at you - just the dark irises of Itachi Uchiha looking into your own eyes as he asks: “Can you forgive me for how I treated you?”

“Only if you promise not to do it again, and to tell me why you wanted to train me.”

“I don’t make promises.”

“Make this one.” You counter, opening up your cloak so he could see how serious you were about this. He mimics your motion, but only the first couple snaps so his full face is exposed. Enough to satisfy you as he nods his agreement to your terms.

“I promise that I won’t treat you that way again.” That was enough, and you nod with a small smile to let him know that he was forgiven. “And even if you’re here, you might be sent out to get to one of us in the field. That's a time where you’d need to be able to defend yourself since nobody else will be around to protect you.”

“So you trained me because you care about me.”

“I care about my investment,” he tries to correct, but there’s a faint smile on his face that suggests something different.

“Is that a joke? From you? Kisame will never believe this.”

“Which is why you can never tell anyone, they won’t believe you.” He’s confident again, which has you relaxing the shoulders that you hadn’t even realized were tense. Things felt normal, even if things would be abnormal tomorrow when you woke up in a bed and not on the ground boxed in between the two S-ranked criminals that were now your closest friends. You were going to miss them, but you can’t help but wonder…

“Are you going to miss having me around?” you ask, hoping the answer is yes but you wouldn’t be surprised if he gave the opposite. The deal was that he’d tell you why he wanted to train you, this wasn’t part of it.

“I think I will,” is all he says at first, and you feel validated in that moment. “Even if you walk slow.”

“Why don’t you have a personality where others are around to hear it?”

“Don’t you think there may be a reason that you’re the only one around for it?” The question has you pausing, any retort you had planned now gone as the weight of his words sunk in. This was…so much more than you were expecting to ever get from Itachi but you were going to enjoy it while you could.

“Give me your hand,” you request, and he looks confused for a minute before you add, “humor me.”

And so he does, his hand coming to rest in yours and his eyes watching your face as you continue to smile at him. He feels it before it registers just what you were doing, using your chakra to push his hand like in your first chakra control lessons, and he can’t help but smile as he pushes his own chakra back. He was expecting some kind of resistance, like when two similarly poled magnets tried to connect, but instead your hand is pulled into his with a light smack! that has you both looking up at each other in mild surprise.

“What did you do?” you ask, tilting your head as he shakes his.

“Pushed my chakra into yours. I wasn’t expecting our chakras to pull each other in like that.”

“We’ll have to do some research on that later.”

“Later?”

“You said that you and Kisame were leaving at dusk.” Your reminder has him looking out the window where the sun’s descent was nearing its completion. Has that much time passed? “Be careful out there, will you?”

He nods, and you pull your hand from his so you could close his cloak for him.

“I promise.”

“I thought you didn’t make promises?”

“For you, I’ll make a couple more.”

#uchiha itachi #uchiha itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha #itachi fanfiction #itachi uchiha imagine #itachi uchiha x you #itachi uchiha fluff #uchiha itachi x you

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nightingaleflow · 9 months

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Incendiary

Fandom: Naruto Rating: T Relationships: Chojuro x Natsumi Kaioh (OC) Other Characters: Mei Terumi Word Count: 7,481 Warnings: Canon-typical violence, themes of classism.

A/N: If y'all forgot I had an OC that I pair with Chojuro...that's completely fair lol. I don't get to talk about her that much. But I really wanted to write how she and Chojuro first met.

Setting wise, this is during the time skip (post Chunin Exams). Chojuro would be 17, and Natsumi just turned 18.

I hope you enjoy. <3

The view from the shores of Kirigakure was always spectacular. From the early morning, when the rising sun bathed the water in rich oranges and reds to noon when the bright sunlight turned the ocean into thousands of sapphires, the water was what gave Kirigakure its identity. Those who lived there said they were the luckiest in the Five Great Nations - after all, no one else had the protection of the ocean itself as a shield against invasion, not to mention the bounty of fish, seaweed, pearls, and minerals they harvested from its depths.

Chojuro was inclined to agree – to an extent. He’d be the first to admit he loved his village and the ocean both. The village was his home – it was where he’d learned to use a sword and where he’d found a purpose as a shinobi and as one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen. The ocean gave him comfort on his darkest days, and he often sought out the sound of the waves against the hot sand as reassurance that things would be okay.

But he also knew that in their beauty and comfort, each had a dark side. Dangers hid throughout the depths of the ocean, from strong currents to deadly creatures, all of which would not hesitate a second before taking the life of an unsuspecting swimmer. Kirigakure was much the same, its boastful elitism unable to completely hide the harsh divide between its citizens and its willingness to shed their blood that had given it its old name of the Blood Mist Village. Even now that they had left that name behind, the rich North Side and the poor South Side remained divided, kept apart both by their bank accounts and the flowing canal that split the village in two.

Chojuro had been unlucky enough to have been born on the South Side. His earliest memories were of life in a run-down orphanage, the scornful caretakers reminding him several times a day that he was so worthless, his own parents hadn’t wanted him. Chojuro had been inclined to believe them for many years, his self-worth run so far into the ground he didn’t know if he’d ever had it. Their words had haunted him even years after he escaped, even after he was scouted to become a Swordsman and Lady Mizukage’s bodyguard.

Even now, sitting on the beach with Hiramekarei strapped to his back, he could still hear their cold words in the back of his mind, telling him he was an impostor.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, the salty air filling his lungs. Then back out. Again.

It was night, the moonlight dimly illuminating the beach and turning the ocean into diamonds. He’d seen a few others still on the beach when he’d arrived, swimming and cleaning fish. But the darkness and chilly air had finally chased them away, leaving him alone, just as he preferred.

He relaxed as he heard the next wave crashing onto the sand, the foam reaching just below his feet and soaking the earth. A little crab popped out of the sand, looking curiously at Chojuro before scuttling away. A genuine smile formed on his face as he watched the crab disappear into the night. Then he stood, brushing the sand off his cow print pants. He adjusted Hiramekarei on his back, then turned back toward the village.

Further down the sand, just over a rocky outcrop, something bright and orange flashed. He froze, watching as the light faded as quickly as it appeared. Then it appeared again, brighter this time. His eyes narrowing, he grabbed the handle of his sword before taking off down the beach.

When he arrived at the edge of the rocks, he squinted through the dark, unable to make out anything other than the jagged stones bathed in silvery light. Then, all around him, he felt the air boil. He leaped back into the cooler air just as a massive fireball formed. It shot out across the water, turning night into day for a few seconds before it sank into the water with a loud hiss.

Chojuro watched the light fade, then jumped back onto the rocks, readying himself for whoever was there. This time, as he looked down, he could see a small hidden beach surrounded by the rocks. In the middle of the curved sand, just above where the water reached, he could make out a dark figure. They didn’t notice his approach, instead adjusting their posture before taking a deep breath.

Chojuro stayed where he was, gritting his teeth as the air around him caught fire. Another massive fireball lit up the night, sailing through the air before joining its ancestor in the watery depths. This time, however, Chojuro was able to see the figure more clearly. It was a woman, one he didn’t recognize. She had dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders in waves, mixing in the darkness with the black halter blouse she wore. Her skin was nearly white in the moonlight, a perfect contrast to her otherwise dark appearance. Importantly, around her waist, he spotted the glimmering headband of Kiri, indicating she was a shinobi.

He sighed, silently scolding himself for getting so worked up. She was just training.

As Chojuro watched her prepare for another, a pebble flew out from under his shoe. The sound echoed as the pebble bounced down to the ground. The woman’s head snapped in his direction, and he could already feel the air boiling around him. He scrambled back, leaping free of the rocks, but not before a jet of flame lashed out at him. He hissed as it wrapped around his sleeve, instantly destroying the fabric and burning the skin underneath.

The woman landed on top of the rocks as he dunked his arm into the salty water, glaring down at him with eyes that glowed like embers. He groaned, forcing himself to stand as he prayed this wouldn’t lead to a fight.

“Who are you?” she growled, her voice low. “And what the hell do you want?”

“Chojuro,” he said, fighting to keep the pain out of his voice. “And I just wanted to find out what was going on.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Well, congratulations, you found me,” she said. “Now leave me alone.”

He intended to do just that, but as he turned to go, his arm brushed up against his sweater. He groaned as the burn throbbed, fresh waves of pain shooting through him.

The woman’s anger softened. She landed on the sand next to him and took his arm. Chojuro yelped, but she ignored him as she examined it. “Do you have aloe vera?”

“A…what?”

“Aloe vera. It’s a plant. Almost looks like a green flower with long, spiky tendrils.”

Chojuro shook his head, his face burning along with his arm.

“Pity. It’s the best thing for burns.” She released his arm, then turned towards the village. “Run it under cool – not cold – water and clean it gently.”

A million questions exploded in Chojuro’s mind, but she disappeared into the village before he had the chance to ask. He stood there for a long moment, trying to understand any of what had just transpired. Then the throbbing in his arm forced him to head home.

He threw his ruined sweater off as soon as he walked in the door, then ran to the bathroom. Not knowing any better, he stuck his arm in the sink, letting cool water wash over it. The heat in his burn instantly began to leach out, the throbbing pain decreasing to a dull ache. He tried pulling his arm back out, but instantly regretted it as the heat rebounded. He gritted his teeth as he dried it off, wondering what he was going to do now. This injury would affect his swordsmanship, and in turn, his ability to protect the Mizukage.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Bewildered, he went back to the front, wondering who was calling on him this late at night. When he opened the door, no one was there. He looked all around, but saw nothing except his dark yard. His shoe brushed against something. He looked down to see a small potted plant on his welcome mat. Its tendrils were long and green, with small spikes lining the edges. A note was attached to the pot, simply stating: “Break off a tendril and apply the gel within to your burn.”

He looked around again but could detect nothing in the dim moonlight. Frowning, he brought the pot inside, setting it on his kitchen table. It had to be from the woman - this perfectly matched her description of aloe vera, and he was sure they’d been alone on the beach. But could he trust her enough to follow her instructions?

His burn throbbed on his arm, and he snapped off the smallest tendril.

To his surprise, as soon as he spread the clear gel on his skin, the heat evaporated. He nearly moaned with relief, smearing more up and down his arm until the burning completely vanished. His body relaxed, and he stifled a yawn, suddenly realizing how tired he was. He patted the plant, then gave it a little water before heading to bed.

The Mizukage’s office was one of the most luxurious buildings in Kirigakure. Chojuro had been there many times, even before he was officially given the position of Mei’s bodyguard, but he’d never quite been able to feel at home surrounded by the plush carpets, manicured plants, and shining gold that accented the mahogany furniture. But Mei always welcomed him with a warm smile and treated him with respect, so he was more than happy to stand at attention, watching over her as she poured over budget reports and mission logs.

She set her pen down, lightly rubbing her temple. “Oh, Chojuro,” she said. “Do you have plans tomorrow night?”

She meant it innocently, but Chojuro still blushed as he replied, “Um, not at the moment, My Lady.”

“Good,” Mei said, turning and resting her chin on her folded hands. “Tomorrow is the birthday of one of my former students, and I’m taking her out to dinner to celebrate. Would you care to join us?”

“Um, sure,” Chojuro said, adjusting his glasses. “But do you really need a guard for a birthday dinner?”

Mei chuckled. “No, Chojuro, I’d like for you to come as a guest.”

“Oh,” Chojuro said.

“She’s very dear to me, but as of right now it’s just us, and I’m sure she’d like to have someone closer to her own age to talk to,” Mei explained. “So, what do you think?”

“Sure, I’d be happy to join you.”

“Wonderful,” Mei said, picking her pen back up. “We’re meeting at the Pearl & Coral tomorrow at 7. It’s black tie attire.”

“Understood, I’ll be there,” Chojuro promised. Then he frowned. “Have I ever met her?”

“She’s been in here a few times for missions, but I never formally introduced you,” Mei replied. “Her name is Natsumi. She was my student many years ago, long before anyone ever thought of me becoming Mizukage.”

“I see,” Chojuro said. “I can’t wait to meet her then.”

Mei beamed at him, then signed her name on the final scroll. “Finally,” she sighed. “That’s quite enough for today.” She nodded at Chojuro. “Go have some fun. I’m taking the day off tomorrow, so I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chojuro said with a salute.

He followed Mei out, a bubble of excitement building in his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out just for something fun, usually devoting his free time to training or chores. He practically hummed as he returned home. Then, right as he touched his doorknob, he froze.

“I don’t know anything about her!” he said aloud. “What am I supposed to do for a present?”

Before long, Chojuro was lost among the intricate maze of clothing, jewelry, food, and decorations of the commercial district. Pearls and opals sparkled from windows. Delicious scents from candles and fudge poured from their shops' open doors. Women posed for their friends and lovers, showing off their coats and bags. Everywhere Chojuro looked, another item tried to lure him in for a closer look. But he passed them all by, unable to decide where to start.

He strained his memory. Mei had said Natsumi had been to the office for missions, but he couldn’t recall a single thing about her - face, jutsu, family name, nothing. She definitely hadn’t been in his class at the Academy, nor had she been on any missions alongside him since he’d graduated. She was like a tulpa, only existing because Mei decided she did. And thus, he was no closer to uncovering what to give her.

A glossy rainbow caught his eye as he walked by a shop called Kaioh Gems. He looked up to see an intricate display of seven necklaces arcing above matching earrings, each a different color of the rainbow. He lingered for a moment, admiring the craftsmanship of each piece, then went inside.

A woman with wavy dark hair stepped out from behind the counter, the name “Kasumi” embossed on her nametag. “Good afternoon, Lord Chojuro,” she said, bowing. “How can I assist you?”

“I hope you can assist me,” Chojuro said, rubbing his arm. “I’m trying to buy a birthday gift for someone, but I’ve never met her before and I don’t know what she likes.”

“Ah, that does make it difficult,” Kasumi said, nodding sympathetically. “Well, we have some basic pieces in this cabinet. Have a look and see if one strikes your fancy.”

“Thank you,” Chojuro said. He approached the specified cabinet, carefully studying the silver and gold held within.

“Do you know anything at all about her?” Kasumi asked. “Favorite stone, favorite color?”

“Well, if her birthday is tomorrow, that makes her birthstone a diamond, I believe?” Chojuro said.

“That it does, but there’s no guarantee she’ll like diamonds. There are many out there who dislike their birthstone,” Kasumi said.

“Damn,” Chojuro said. “I wish I had more to work with, but this will be the first time I’ve ever met her,” he replied. “I just know that she’s a former student of the Mizukage, and her name is Natsumi.”

It was like a dark fog settled into the shop. Kasumi’s expression darkened, her nails scraping against the glass cabinet. “Natsumi?” she snarled.

Chojuro froze, unsure what he’d said that had set her off. “...Yes?”

Kasumi glared at him. “I have nothing for you.” She pointed towards the door. “Please leave.”

“What?” Chojuro asked. “But you just said-”

Kasumi stormed over and pushed the door open. “I said, leave. Now.”

Chojuro nodded and quickly stepped outside, wincing as the door slammed shut behind him. “What was that all about?” he wondered aloud.

He tried again at a flower shop and a baker, but his luck only improved enough to not have the shopkeepers throw him out. He still came up empty-handed, realizing without knowing Natsumi’s tastes, these types of gifts would be risky. He glanced through the windows of a few other places, but each shop only brought a looming sense of despair rather than inspiration.

Finally, he reached the end of the shops, the street spilling onto the beach. Chojuro sighed, then walked down the sandy slope until he was near the water. The waves brought him a little comfort, but the further he walked down the beach, the more anxious he felt. He didn’t understand why Mei hadn’t told him anything about Natsumi, nor did he understand why the shopkeeper had reacted so violently. Though, he supposed that Mei had perhaps refrained from telling him on purpose. She didn’t do things arbitrarily, so if she hadn’t said more, she had a reason for it.

He shook his head. These thoughts were getting him nowhere.

He continued to mull over the options as the sun fell lower and the ocean caught fire with orange and gold light. He grew more desperate until he reached the end of the beach, ready to kick the sand in frustration. Then he looked up, recognizing the jagged rocks from the previous night. He nearly stepped back, his ears straining for any signs that the woman had returned. But only the crashing of the waves answered him.

He leaped up onto the rocks, looking down at the small beach. He could see footprints further back in the sand, but they didn’t get very far before they had been washed away. He carefully leaped down, landing a few feet away with a crunch. When he looked down, he saw that the sand had melted, turning into shards of glass. He knelt down, rolling a shard in his palm. He had felt the heat from her flames firsthand, so it didn’t surprise him that she’d left such a mark on the sand.

He turned and looked out at the waves, the sun finally dipping below the horizon. He sighed and fell back in the sand. “Damn it,” he said.

His hand brushed against something hard, something that felt harder than the glass. Frowning, he looked down to see a dark shard sticking out of the sand. He leaned closer, brushing the sand away to reveal a silvery shark’s tooth. He pulled it free and turned it over in his hands, the rough serrations along its edges rubbing against his palms.

He’d never found one before, though it wasn’t that uncommon of an occurrence. Many of the local craftspeople utilized shark teeth in their work. He’d seen quite a few people with them in artwork, weapons, and jewelry. He’d just never felt the need to purchase any - after all, if he wanted to see teeth like this, he just had to look in the mirror. He could only imagine how it would look, a shark's tooth dangling around his neck as he went about his day.

He paused. A spark of inspiration flared in his chest. He smiled, then clutched the tooth to his chest as he hurried home.

The Pearl & Coral made the Mizukage’s office seem like a rickety shack on the furthest stretch of beach. The sparkling blue walls that wove through the restaurant like ribbons were inlaid with thousands of tiny pearls. The tables were covered in shimmering cloths the color of sand, the plates and silverware a shining gold. At the very center of the restaurant sat an enormous aquarium that rose from floor to ceiling, filled with colorful coral and fish that happily swam past patrons as they dined.

Even in the finest suit he owned, Chojuro felt severely underdressed as he passed through the golden doors. He pulled at his cobalt blue bow tie, hoping he wouldn’t start sweating. “Um, I’m here for Lady Mizukage.”

“Ah, Chojuro, there you are,” Mei said. She swept over from the waiting area, dressed in a light blue gown that contrasted nicely with her auburn hair. “I was starting to worry that you’d changed your mind.”

“No, of course not, My Lady,” Chojuro said, inclining his head.

Still smiling, Mei gestured behind her. “Chojuro, I’d like you to meet Natsumi.”

Chojuro looked past her, his eyes landing on the woman approaching. His smile instantly vanished, his mouth falling open as he fully saw her.

She was like a shadow in the brightly lit restaurant, with black hair that cascaded down her back in waves. It matched her flowing black dress, knee-length and open at the top to show off her tanned shoulders. Her eyes, the color of glowing embers, narrowed at the sight of him.

It was her.

His breath caught in his throat, and it took several seconds for him to remember how to speak. “Hello,” he managed, his voice rising an octave.

“Good evening,” Natsumi said, the heat in her gaze making him shiver.

Mei looked back and forth between them. “Have you two met?”

“Just now,” Natsumi interjected, her tone warning Chojuro not to say anything.

Mei raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the issue. “Well then, shall we?”

The hostess led them to a private room on the other side of the aquarium. They sat at a long rectangular table, Mei at the head with Natsumi and Chojuro flanking her. Chojuro smiled nervously, wondering how he was going to get through the meal with Natsumi’s eyes burning through him.

He quickly picked up the menu, hiding behind it as he struggled to absorb a single word.

“What will you be getting, Chojuro?” Mei asked, her head tilted to the side.

“Um, I’m not sure,” he replied. “I haven’t been here before, and there’s a lot to choose from.”

“There is,” Mei agreed. “Fortunately, I’ve been here a few times, and everything has always been exquisite. So you can be assured of the quality no matter what you choose.”

Chojuro nodded, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He scanned the menu a little closer, trying to make himself actually read the words. Even through the screen of the menu’s pages, he could still feel the heat coming from Natsumi, as if she could see straight through the paper. He nervously glanced over the top, and sure enough, he looked straight into her ember eyes.

“Um, what about you, Natsumi?” he asked, hoping a conversation would soothe her. “What are you having?”

Natsumi blinked, looking surprised at being directly addressed. “The reef salad,” she said after a moment.

Chojuro scanned the pages, finding her choice near the top. “That sounds delicious,” he said. “I may have that too.”

Natsumi’s eyebrows raised. She glanced at Mei, who just smiled knowingly back at her.

The waiter appeared a moment later, taking their orders with a bow. Once he disappeared, Mei reached under the table, pulling out a small square package. “Here,” she said. “I hope you like it.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” Natsumi said, accepting the package. She neatly slid open the wrapping paper, then opened the box to reveal a garden spade. The metal blade was heavy and shone even brighter than the dining room around them, the handle inlaid with Natsumi’s name.

Chojuro thought the gift was odd until Natsumi bowed her head to Mei. “Thank you,” she said, clutching the spade to her chest.

Mei beamed at her. “I remembered you saying your old one was near death. I hope this one works in its place.”

“It does,” Natsumi assured her. “Thank you so much.”

So she liked gardening. Chojuro made a note of that for next time, then paused. Next time?

Natsumi tucked the gift into the empty chair, looking much more relaxed than she had at the start. A moment later, Chojuro remembered he’d brought something for her too. He winced as he pulled the box from his pocket, doubting she’d care about it after Mei’s perfect gift. “Um, here,” he said, holding it out to her.

Natsumi looked from the package to him and back again. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know,” Chojuro said, his cheeks turning pink. “But all the same…I hope you like it.”

Natsumi gingerly took the package from him, her eyes watching him like a hawk. Then she carefully unfolded the crumpled paper concealing his gift.

He’d taken the shark tooth he’d found, then purchased some jewelry supplies on his way home. With a few hours' effort, he managed to turn them into a necklace, the silvery tooth dangling from the slim black cord, connected with a silver clasp. Natsumi’s eyes widened as she examined it, rubbing her thumb against the tooth, and Chojuro’s embarrassment came flooding back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn’t know what to get-”

He stopped as he saw Natsumi unclasp the necklace. She tilted her head to the side, exposing her long neck, then tried to clasp the necklace together. After a few tries, she sighed, then looked at him. “Would you mind…?”

“O-oh! Of course!”

He nervously moved behind her, taking the necklace as she swept her long hair out of his way. He stared down at her, noticing for the first time that her tanned skin was dotted with scars. A few slashes and cut marks as usual for shinobi, but the majority appeared to be burn scars, the skin warped and melted. But even so, none of them detracted from her quiet beauty. And, as he leaned closer, he realized she smelled sweet, like honeysuckle at sunset.

He turned red, shaking his head as he tried to concentrate. His body betrayed him, his hands shaking like leaves as he attempted to clasp the two ends together.

Natsumi held as still as she could, but her head still turned a fraction in his direction. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Chojuro said hastily. “I just haven’t done this before.” He somehow managed to hook the claw into the metal loop, then sighed with relief. “There we go.”

Natsumi let her hair fall back into place, adjusting the necklace until it sat just below her collarbone. As Chojuro sat back down, he couldn’t help but notice how it shone in the golden light, standing out against her dark dress.

When she looked up at him, there was a new softness there. Warmth filled her eyes, her earlier fire extinguished. ”Thank you,” she said, her tone light.

Chojuro blushed as he tried to think of a response. But then the arrival of their dinner cut him off, and he fell silent.

After the meal was over, Mei beamed at them. “Well, I think it’s about time to go home,” she said as she signed the bill.

“I agree,” Natsumi said. “It’s getting rather late. But thank you both for coming, and for your gifts.”

Mei nodded. “Chojuro, why don’t you escort Natsumi home?”

Chojuro let out a nervous chirp as Natsumi raised an eyebrow. “My Lady, I don’t need an escort. I know where I live.”

“I know,” Mei said. “I just thought it might be nice to have some company.” She winked at them. “Have a good evening, you two.”

And with that, she vanished into the night.

Chojuro turned red as Natsumi looked his way. “Um, I would be happy to take you home,” he said. “But if you don’t want me to-”

Natsumi jerked her head towards the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Are you sure?”

She just raised an eyebrow at him as she pushed open the door, leaving him scrambling to catch up.

He finally caught up with her a short distance from the restaurant. She gave him a quizzical look, and he laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. She continued on without a word, and Chojuro, not knowing where she was going, silently followed.

“How’s your arm?”

He hadn’t been prepared for her to speak first. “Huh?”

“Your arm,” Natsumi said. She folded her arms, not meeting his gaze. “Did the aloe vera help?”

“So that was you,” Chojuro said.

Natsumi nodded.

Chojuro pulled back his sleeve, showing her how the burn had faded to a light pink. “Yeah, it did the trick,” he said.

Natsumi froze when she saw the burn, her face contorted with guilt. She ducked her head, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Even if Chojuro had wanted to stay mad, he couldn’t have, not with her looking so upset with herself. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “I startled you, right? It’s my fault.”

“No…” Natsumi said. “That’s not it…”

“Oh, um…” Chojuro’s voice faltered.

She sighed. “Forget it, it’s not important.” She subconsciously clasped the shark tooth, rubbing her thumb against the jagged tip. “Thank you again for the necklace,” she said. “Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” Chojuro replied.

She looked up at him, one of her eyebrows raised. “Really?”

Chojuro nodded.

“I didn’t take you for a craftsman.”

“Oh, I’m not,” he said.

Natsumi frowned. “Then why go through the trouble of making it?”

“Well, that wasn’t the plan,” Chojuro replied. “But I couldn’t find anything in the stores that I thought would work. Then I ended up back at the beach where we…met…and I found that in the sand. I just thought it was a sign, so I went with it..”

Natsumi glanced down, cradling the tooth in her palm. “It’s a good thing you did,” she said. “It looks beautiful.”

Chojuro beamed, his cheeks pink from the compliment. “Yeah, it matches you.”

As Natsumi’s head snapped up, Chojuro realized what he’d just said. “I-I mean, it looks beautiful!” he said, panicking. “I mean, not that you’re not beautiful! But that’s not what I meant to say! I…” he groaned. “I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Natsumi dipped her head, hiding her mouth behind her hand. But even so, Chojuro could tell she was smiling from the slight crinkle of skin near her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes. His heart beat a little faster as he realized that even if he’d made a blunder, he hadn’t been wrong. She really was beautiful.

He snapped his head forward, rubbing his cheeks to get the burning under control.

She led him down the twisting roads, the paths spiraling and undulating like the mist the village was known for. She kept glancing at him, secretly smirking every time she conjured a fresh blush on his cheeks. It didn’t take long for Chojuro to realize not only was doing it on purpose, but she seemed to revel in his reactions. He could almost hear Mei’s laugh in the distance, wondering if she’d planned this. After all, Mei had always encouraged him to have more confidence. Maybe a night with Natsumi was just the thing to bring that out.

The next time Natsumi looked at him, Chojuro forced himself to hold her gaze. “So, tell me more about yourself,” he said, his face erupting in a fresh blush.

Natsumi looked startled. “There’s really not much to tell,” she finally said. “Why?”

Chojuro winced. He was off to a great start.

“I’m sure there’s something,” he said, rubbing his arm. In a flash, he remembered the garden spade she now clutched in a box. “You like gardening, right?”

He’d hit the nail on the head. Natsumi lit up like a candle, a genuine smile crossing her lips. “I do,” she said. “Working in my garden is my favorite thing to do when I’m home.”

“What do you grow?”

“Whatever I can,” Natsumi replied. “I just put my pepper starters in the ground, and hopefully my tomatoes will follow in a few weeks.”

“That’s really cool,” Chojuro said, relaxing and giving her a genuine smile.

Her grin grew wider. “Thank you so much.” Then her smile turned devious. “So, what do you do when you’re not not calling women beautiful?”

His blush came back with a vengeance. “N-nothing too exciting,” he said, hastily looking away. “I’m either guarding Lady Mizukage, or I’m training with my sword.”

Something about the word ‘sword’ seemed to resonate with Natsumi. “I’ve been wondering since you were introduced,” she said slowly. “Are you the same Chojuro that wields Hiramekarei?”

“Yes, that would be me.”

Natsumi nodded, a new respect in her eyes. “That’s quite a feat, especially for someone so young.”

Chojuro laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Thank you, but in truth, I was just lucky,” he said. “Someone noticed I could wield a sword, and I had a good set of mentors who helped me get to this point. It wasn’t me.”

“Don’t do that,” Natsumi said sharply.

“Do…what?”

“Disparage yourself like that,” she said, coming to an abrupt halt. “Perhaps part of it was luck, but they don’t just let anyone become a Swordsman. That privilege is earned, not bought or given out on a whim. So don’t talk about yourself like it is.”

The air around them increased by several degrees as she spoke. Chojuro stood rooted to the spot, bewildered and slightly terrified by her intensity. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” she said. “I’m not involved here. You need to be kinder to yourself.”

It was almost word for word what Mei had said to him when he’d expressed doubts about his ability to be her bodyguard, albeit much more forceful. Even if he hadn't already known, it was clear Natsumi had been her student, and had probably been on the receiving end of that lecture at some point.

“Is that something Lady Mizukage told you as well?” he asked.

Natsumi folded her arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her tone warning him not to push the subject.

Chojuro sighed. Just when they’d started to get somewhere, they’d fallen back to where they started. “I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to do. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.”

He wasn’t convinced.

“Even if I didn’t,” he said. “I still said something that upset you. And I’d like to avoid that in the future.”

This time, Natsumi took a moment to gather her thoughts. She stared straight ahead, her expression conflicted. “It’s…complicated,” she finally said, her voice distant and sad.

Her voice broke Chojuro’s heart. Her earlier fire had vanished, flickering out like a candle, and he hated it. He made up his mind to get her to smile again before he left her for the night, embarrassment be damned. But before he could figure out how to make that happen, an excited voice called out, “Is that you, Lord Chojuro?”

He looked up, realizing they had made it to the canal splitting the village. Someone was running across the nearest bridge towards them, waving excitedly. He squinted, trying to make out who they were. They were a Kiri jonin, their headband wrapped around their head and their red hair flowing down either side of their face. They seemed vaguely familiar, but Chojuro couldn’t place them.

“It’s Ichigo,” the man said, skidding to a halt in front of him. “I’m the candidate for Shibuki.”

“Oh yeah, I remember now!” Chojuro said. That’s where he’d seen this man - he’d been by the office to submit the paperwork for the qualification tests. “Sorry about that.”

“No need,” Ichigo assured him, waving his hand nonchalantly. “I’m sure you have a lot on your mind. What brings you out this way?”

“I’m escorting…” Chojuro paused. He’d almost said friend, but he wasn’t sure that was the right word, nor did he think Natsumi would allow it with the way things currently were between them. He settled for her name instead. “...Natsumi home.”

Ichigo blinked, looking past Chojuro. His face instantly darkened, his hand going to the sword he had strapped to his belt. Behind him, Chojuro felt the air heat up, and when he looked back, he saw Natsumi’s expression was absolutely murderous.

“Lord Chojuro,” Ichigo said, his voice cold. “You should stay away from this one. She’s bad news.”

“You’re one to talk, Ichigo,” she said, spitting out his name like venom.

A vein protruded from Ichigo’s forehead as he pulled the sword from its sheath. “Keep your name out of my mouth, gutter trash,” he snarled.

Natsumi scoffed. “You’re really trying to become a Swordsman?” she asked. “Don’t count on it. If someone as cowardly and two-faced as you claims the title, that means the whole system is a joke.”

Letting out a furious growl, Ichigo swung his sword at her. She gracefully leaped away, landing further down the canal as the heat around her intensified.

Chojuro looked around, but there was nothing he could use as a makeshift sword apart from a small metal pipe. Then Ichigo closed the distance, ready to take a second swing at Natsumi. Chojuro darted forward, appearing between them. He ignored Natsumi’s horrified cry behind him as he brought the pipe up, sparks flying as metal met metal. Ichigo attempted to retreat, but as he did so, Chojuro did an easy flourish with his pipe, and Ichigo’s sword went flying into the canal.

“You’ve got some explaining to do,” Chojuro warned, his voice shaking with fury. “Why the hell did you attack her like that?”

“More like why the hell are you defending her?” Ichigo spat. “Worthless gutter trash like her needs to be killed or thrown out.”

“That’s enough insults,” Chojuro said. “You need to apologize and be on your way.”

“Hell no!” Ichigo brandished his sword at Chojuro. “All that time with the Mizukage has made you soft. Now get out of my way!”

Chojuro opened his mouth to retort, but he was stopped by Natsumi’s hand gripping his shoulder. “Don’t, Chojuro,” she said, gently pulling him back. “He won’t apologize. Just let it go.”

Ichigo let out a harsh laugh. “Impressive,” he said. “I think that’s the only smart thing you’ve ever-”

He paused, his face contorting strangely. A foul scent, like burning rubber, filled the air. He looked down, the color draining from his face. He screeched, flopping to the ground and flailing madly at his shoes, which had been consumed by flames. When he failed to get them off before the fire spread to his pants, he jumped down into the canal, gurgling as he splashed into the water below.

Natsumi watched him flail in the water for a few moments, then turned and silently crossed the bridge without a word, ignoring Ichigo as he surfaced and continued to hurl insults at her.

As Chojuro followed her, he could feel the heat rolling off of her in waves, the air and ground sizzling with every step. Beads of sweat rolled down his neck as he drew alongside her. “Natsumi-!”

She quickened her pace, refusing to look at him.

“Natsumi, wait!” Chojuro pleaded.

“Why?” Natsumi murmured, the heat around her becoming almost unbearable. “So you can tell me he was right? That I’m worthless gutter trash that needs to be gotten rid of?”

Wiping the beads of sweat from his brow, Chojuro raced ahead, planting himself in front of her. She finally looked up at him, and he was stunned to see tears beading at the corners of her eyes.

“Natsumi, I have no idea what he was talking about,” Chojuro said. “But I also don’t care. He’s wrong about you.”

Natsumi laughed bitterly. “You only say that because you don’t know anything about me.”

“Then tell me. What’s so ‘wrong’ with you that would make me side with him?”

She looked away, but he could still see the tear silently trickling down her face, the indecision and fear that made her body tremble. Chojuro took her hand, silently holding it in both of his as he waited for her answer.

Finally, after an eternity she finally said, “There are three big reasons. One, I can’t use Water Release at all. Two, I can’t do even basic kenjutsu. Three, I was born on the South Side.”

Chojuro stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide as everything clicked into place. As far as he had known, every shinobi in Kiri could use Water Release, even if it wasn’t their affinity or even very strong. For Natsumi to not have it at all was extremely rare, and in the elitist society they lived in, that valued status and conformity above all else, that was basically screaming to the world that she didn’t belong there. To compound that with a lack of swordsmanship, and to have been born in the poor district…Natsumi was everything that the upper crust of Kirigakure hated.

He couldn’t imagine the hell she’d had to endure during her life here, especially if people were openly treating her this way.

He didn’t have to wonder long before she continued, “No one wanted to have anything to do with me. Teachers, fellow students and shinobi, not even my parents. At best, they said I was a disgrace to the village. At worst, they said I should be banished or killed.” Her eyes trailed back to the canal. “Ichigo was my teammate for a mission. He tried to leave me for dead in the Land of Earth, then blamed me when I reported him and he got demoted. To this day, he still wants my head.”

“That’s why you reacted so violently last night,” Chojuro said with quiet realization. “You thought I was going to kill you.”

Natsumi nodded.

Fury and sadness expanded rapidly in his chest, threatening to choke him. He took a shaking breath as he squeezed her hand. “I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”

Natsumi didn’t move. Tears still formed in her eyes, but beyond them, there was a spark of hope.

“They were wrong about you,” Chojuro said. “Ichigo was wrong.”

“Were they?” Natsumi asked. “I failed at the three things this village prides itself in. What good does that make me?”

“Don’t,” Chojuro said.

“Don’t what?”

“You remember what you said to me?” Chojuro asked. “About not talking down about yourself?”

“Yes…” Natsumi said reluctantly.

“Well, the same goes for you,” he said. “So what if you can’t use Water or wield a sword? You have your own gifts. That fire - that was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Natsumi said slowly.

“And I constantly feel the air getting hot around you - that’s also your doing, isn’t it?”

She nodded again. “Fire has always been my best weapon. I don’t even need hand signs for it.”

“You’re kidding.”

Natsumi shook her head. She glanced to the side, nodding at a piece of trash. She stilled, focusing on it, and Chojuro could feel the air around them heat up like a furnace. A moment later, the trash exploded into flames. He stared at it in awe for a moment, then quickly summoned a small plume of water to extinguish it.

“I call it Incineration,” Natsumi said simply.

“That’s incredible,” Chojuro said, giving her an awed smile. “You’re incredible, Natsumi.”

She stared at him silently, a soft blush dusting her cheeks. She turned her head, nervously playing with a lock of her hair. “You’re sweet.”

Chojuro blushed too, scratching the back of his head. “Don’t ever let people like that get to you.” Lowering his voice, he added, “I know it’s hard. I was born on the South Side too. I heard a lot of similar commentary when I was younger.”

Natsumi’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re from the South Side?”

“Born and raised, if you can even call what happened to me ‘raising’.”

“Sounds like we had similar upbringings,” she said. Then she stifled a yawn, looking embarrassed as she pressed her hand against her mouth. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m listening…”

Chojuro shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said. “That story can wait for another day. For now, let’s get you home.”

They arrived at her house a few minutes later. It was a small place, tucked away at the end of a street three blocks from the canal. Only one story tall, the stone walls a natural sandy color under the dark roof. A stone wall separated the yard and house from the street, parted by a metal gate. A single outdoor light illuminated the garden, little green sprouts popping out of the dark soil in raised beds.

Natsumi hovered by the gate, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“For what?” Chojuro asked.

“For…everything.” She hid a yawn behind her hand. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s all right,” he assured her. “You get some rest.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Chojuro nearly panicked, thinking he’d somehow messed things up again, but those fears were put to rest when he saw the corners of her mouth twitching and the corners of her eyes crinkle with mirth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.

Her smile came back. A genuine, bright smile that lit up the night and warmed him right down to his core. “You learn fast,” she said, her tone teasing.

He smiled back. “Oh, and tomorrow, I’ll be speaking to Lady Mizukage about Ichigo,” he said. “You’re right, someone like that has no business becoming a Swordsman.”

“I bet he’ll love that.” Natsumi laughed. “You’ll have to come by and tell me all about it.”

Chojuro blinked. Was she actually inviting him to visit her?

As if sensing his confusion, she casually added, “Of course, that’s if you want to spend more time with a not not beautiful woman.”

Chojuro groaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

She grinned at him. “No, you are not.”

Her smile was infectious, so he couldn’t help grinning back even as he rubbed his burning face. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it then, if we’re friends.”

Natsumi’s face lit up. “Are we?”

“I’d like to be,” Chojuro replied. “If you’ll allow it.”

He offered her his hand. After a moment, Natsumi took it, squeezing his fingers. “I’d like that too.”

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