The Hokage's office was already thick with smoke, the air so hazy it looked like mist on a rainy morning.
And the culprit, Sarutobi Hiruzen, felt absolutely no shame. He continued puffing away, clouds curling lazily from his pipe, his deep gaze fixed on the crystal ball atop his desk.
Inside the crystal ball, an image played out: a blond-haired boy darting through the streets, searching frantically for someone.
Knock, knock, knock!
The sound of knuckles on wood broke the quiet.
Hiruzen quickly slid the crystal ball beneath his desk before speaking."Come in."
A masked ANBU stepped inside, approaching the desk and handing over a folder."Hokage-sama, this is the information on Shirayuki Haruba and his relatives."
Yes — Haruba had merely exchanged a few words with Naruto, and already he had caught the Hokage's attention.
Hiruzen accepted the folder and began flipping through it. One glance in, his brows lifted slightly in surprise."So he's Yazan's nephew… No wonder the surname sounded so familiar."
"His parents were heroes who died for the village as well? From the moment he was born, Haruba's name has carried the Will of Fire."
Hiruzen read on, his impression of Shirayuki Haruba steadily improving. The boy's background was impeccably clean, his record beyond reproach.
By the time he reached the end of the file, Hiruzen had also found the reason Haruba had stepped in to help Naruto."No matter who's being bullied, he steps in to protect them. Strong sense of the Will of Fire… though he's a bit greedy, and his methods are a little… excessive."
He stroked his chin, considering whether to allow Haruba to stay close to Naruto.From a small clan, unblemished history, a good personality…
"…Let it happen naturally. Naruto needs to make his own friends. I won't interfere."
Setting the file aside, Hiruzen looked back at the ANBU."Continue with the protection detail. Record any unusual situations and report immediately.""Yes, Hokage-sama."
The ANBU departed, and Hiruzen turned his attention back to the many other matters of the village.
At that same moment, in a dark and twisted corner of the village…
"Shirayuki Haruba?""Yazan's nephew?""Hmph."
With a sharp thwap, Shimura Danzō slapped the folder in his hand down onto the desk, a low growl of irritation escaping his throat.
Shirayuki Yazan was one of Konoha's elite jōnin — among the very best the village had.
A man of unshakable will, calm under pressure, precise in his work, and just as formidable in command as in battle. His tactical mind was sharp, his experience vast.
Danzō knew him well for a reason: years ago, he had invited Yazan to join Root. Yazan had refused outright.
Danzō had long since put that rejection out of mind — until this file landed before him, dredging up the memory.
Still, though the sting was there, he didn't take it too seriously.
If it had been someone of unknown origin, or from one of the great clans, getting close to the jinchūriki, Danzō could have gone to Hiruzen to stir trouble — and, in the process, wring some advantage for Root.
If it had been the Uchiha, he'd have had even more reason to clamp down.
But Shirayuki Haruba's record was spotless, his status as the orphan of heroes lending him moral weight, and on top of that… he had Yazan's protection.
There was no point barging into Hiruzen's office just to get shot down. Every time that man jabbed at one of his sore spots, it left Danzō smarting.
"Continue the surveillance," Danzō ordered flatly."Yes, Danzō-sama."
The Root operative withdrew, leaving the old war hawk to bury himself once more in plans — most of them revolving around the Uchiha problem.
That masked man had already approached him, but until he was certain of Hiruzen's position, Danzō didn't dare make a move.
Ichiraku Ramen.
Beside Hinata's seat, four large empty bowls were stacked high.
With the last mouthful swallowed, a satisfied smile spread across her small, delicate face.
The warm, full feeling in her stomach lifted her spirits in a way few things could. At home, she had to mind her manners and her image — she could never eat like this in front of her family.
"Amazing!"
Ayame, who had been watching the whole time, couldn't help blurting it out. Adults could put away several bowls, sure, but for such a small girl to do it? Rare.
Even more surprising was that Hinata's stomach barely looked any fuller at all. Where had all that ramen gone?
Hinata, hearing Ayame's exclamation, suddenly realized many of the other customers were looking her way.
Her big eyes blinked rapidly — and then her entire face turned red, steam seeming ready to rise from her skin. She swayed a little, and Haruba began to worry she might actually faint.
"Full?" Haruba asked, glancing at the empty bowls in front of her."F–Full!" Hinata nodded so fast she looked like a pecking bird.
Haruba eyed her in mild disbelief. Five bowls of ramen, and not a hint of discomfort — was she hiding some kind of pocket dimension in her stomach?
"Well, if you're full, I'll walk you home," he said. It was getting late, and even in the safety of the village, it wasn't wise to let her walk alone.
He paid for his own meal, but when Hinata heard him, her fingers tightened instinctively on the hem of her clothes.
She didn't know why, but a sudden wave of disappointment and reluctance washed over her.
"Hinatа, time to pay," Haruba reminded gently when he saw her spacing out again.
As the Hyūga clan's young lady, she could certainly afford a few bowls of ramen — but forgetting to pay was another matter. As for him footing the bill… forget it.
Five large bowls like that? The cost would add up to enough for him to draw at least one ninja card in his system.
"Ah? Oh, right."
Hinata quickly snapped out of her daze and pulled a small wallet from her pocket.
Haruba's eyes nearly popped when he saw it. He hadn't looked closely before, but now — stuffed to the brim with crisp ¥1,000 bills. Easily several tens of thousands in there.
Richer than Tenten, for sure.
Although Hinata rarely left home, Hiashi still gave her a generous allowance.
For a split second, Haruba's resolve wavered. But looking at her doll-like face, he reminded himself — he had no real reason to take her money.
"At least… not for another seven years…" he muttered under his breath.
By the time Hinata had handed the payment to Ayame and turned back, she found Haruba mumbling something to himself.
Tilting her head in quiet curiosity, she inched closer, trying to catch the words. It wasn't often she did something so bold, but tonight… she was feeling just a little reckless.
"What are you doing?"
Before she could hear anything clearly, Haruba turned and caught her leaning in — their faces nearly touching.
"Uh!"
Hinata's cheeks flamed bright red, and she quickly pulled back, gaze dropping to the floor.
…What was that about?
Haruba stared after her, puzzled. But seeing how close she was to overheating from embarrassment, he decided not to push the question.
"Come on. It's already late."