I stood frozen while Genta writhed on the ground, his hands pressed to the new lump on his head. Takamura didn't even glance at him. He just kept his eyes on me, studying every twitch in my face, like he was trying to read my soul.
I swallowed, pulled my scattered thoughts together, and chose my words carefully. "While I appreciate the offer, and I'd never disrespect everything you've done for me, I'm not looking to join any clan."
Takamura didn't look insulted. He just let out this quiet little chuckle under his breath, like he'd expected that answer all along. "I'm not asking you to wear the Senju name, Noa. I'm offering you a place to sleep and train. You'll be here half the time anyway once I run you and Genta into the dirt every day. It makes sense for you to stay close. And it keeps the old ones off my back for training someone they call an outsider."
He said it so simply, but I could feel how he meant it. Practical, honest. No hidden hooks in his tone, at least not the kind that'd trap me like a clan would.
Still, a part of me itched. Wouldn't living inside a compound just paint a bigger target on my back? Or worse, make people think I'd let myself get chained down?
Takamura's eyes narrowed slightly, like he'd plucked that thought right out of my skull. He gave a small shrug, almost casual. "If you're worried, hear this plain. You'd be our guest. Not a member. No rules, no obligations. No secrets to share or keep. You'll train when you want, how you want. If you need a second opinion, my door's open. That's all."
That last line almost sounded fatherly, which weirdly put a knot in my chest. I tried to cover it up by rolling my shoulders, acting like I was only weighing logistics. "So if I want to train outside the compound, there's no issue?"
He snorted softly. "Go wherever you like. Just don't blow up the compound gardens while the elders are having their tea. Some of those old people might croak on the spot."
I let out an unplanned laugh. Even Genta cracked a grin through his headache. I rubbed at the back of my neck. "And my stipend? The village only covers that 'cause I'm technically alone."
Genta perked up again, eyes huge and worried. The poor guy really wanted me to say yes. Takamura didn't even glance at him, just focused on me. "You'll keep getting your stipend. I'll talk to the right people myself. And you'll have your own house here. We've got plenty of empty ones collecting dust. Might as well put one to good use."
A real house. A real courtyard. Not my cramped box of a flat where I could hear my neighbors fight about stolen rice or listen to drunks throw up on the steps. I pictured it, open space, a yard I could actually run drills in, walls thick enough to muffle my clones' constant swearing at me. It felt too good. Which meant there had to be a catch.
"Moving in would look like I've picked a side," I said flatly, not even bothering to sugarcoat it.
Takamura replied calmly and with a steady tone. "I know. I'll make sure people hear exactly what they need to. You're here to train with Genta. You're not joining the Senju. You're not taking our name or our duties. If they want to gossip, let them choke on their own stories."
I couldn't help the small grin that twitched at my lips. Smart old man. He'd survived a clan this old for a reason.
I turned to look at Genta. He was practically vibrating again, fists clenched so tight I worried he'd faint from holding his breath. His eyes said everything, please, please say yes. I let out a slow, long sigh and forced my shoulders to relax. "I guess I'll have to intrude, then. I'd hate for people to think I'm rude after you've bent over backwards for me, Takamura-san."
Genta let out a noise halfway between a shout and a squeak. He lunged forward and grabbed my arms, nearly shaking me out of my skin. I had a clear vision of him crashing in my place daily.
Takamura barked another smack across his head. "Calm down. He's not moving in tonight."
Genta yelped, rubbing his skull for the hundredth time. I was genuinely concerned he'd get brain damage before the year was out. Takamura turned his attention back to me, eyes steady but not cold. "Go home. Think it through one more time. When you decide, bring your things. I'll make sure you're settled in with no trouble."
I gave him a small nod. "Thank you, Takamura-san."
He nodded back, simple and respectful. Genta bounced behind him, eyes wide with excitement he could barely keep inside. I raised a hand, told them I'd see them soon, and made my way to the gate.
The old guard who'd been dead asleep before was wide awake now, eyes bugging out like I'd just walked out of thin air. He opened his mouth to yell, but I cut him off with the sweetest voice I could muster. "You were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you. Sorry for the intrusion."
He glared at me like I'd just robbed him blind. I didn't care. I stepped back into the village streets, hands deep in my pockets, the moon following me all the way home.
Back in my flat the only chair I have squeaked when I dropped into it. My eyes drifted up, tracing every wild line I'd carved into that cracked ceiling. The beasts, the swirling symbols, the vivid colors and there, at the very center, my sister's figure, drawn like she was watching over the whole mess.
"Hey, sis," I murmured, voice low but warm. "What do you think? Is this the first step? More people, more reasons to keep going. A way to become a better me."
No answer. Just the steady moonlight through the cracked window, falling across the mural, making the beasts and monsters and the emotions I put into drawing them look alive for a second.
I stayed like that for a long time, letting the silence wrap around my shoulders like an old blanket. Then I pressed my palms together, molded my chakra, and two shadow clones popped into the room with me. They didn't even say hi, they just flipped me off at the same time, middle fingers raised like clockwork.
"Lucky you," the left one grumbled, already eyeing the work that needs to be done. "Bigger place, better food. Otherwise, this chakra would be wasted on your sentimental ass."
"Just pack," I shot back. They grumbled but got moving, rummaging through the sad excuse for my possessions, folding my worn clothes.
I leaned back again, staring up at the mural. All my secrets, splashed out for years, carved into cheap plaster. They were mine. Nobody else's.
I walked up the wall and hung from the ceiling, kunai in hand, and scraped. Bit by bit, lines fell away. The beasts disappeared. The swirling shapes that used to keep me company when I couldn't sleep turned to nothing. Only my sister's figure remained, her faint smile drawn in lines I could never get right.
"It hurts to take you down," I whispered, the blade trembling for half a second. "But I promise… next time, you'll be bigger. Brighter. Somewhere better. I won't leave you in a cracked ceiling again."
I scraped her away carefully, each stroke cleaner than the last. I dropped back down, kunai warm in my hand, chest tight but lighter than it had been in a long time.
Behind me, my clones were still swearing at my mess, stuffing my junk into whatever they could find. I let them. Tomorrow, we'd move. New walls. New yard. New space to express myself in.