Konoha's border forests were drenched in salt air from the nearby coast. Under the canopy, a young girl in a fishnet undershirt toyed idly with a kunai, short violet hair tied into a loose puff behind her head. She was only twelve, but she carried herself with the unrestrained confidence of someone already tempered by real missions.
"So," Mitarashi Anko said, swinging the kunai between her fingers, "you actually ended up as one of Orochimaru-sensei's trainees. Guess it isn't just your face after all."
She tried to mimic Orochimaru's eerie composure—tongue flicking out, smile stretched a little too wide. Yoru couldn't help grinning.
"Anko, did your tongue overheat? You're doing a lot of… waving it around."
She blinked, thrown completely off script. "Overheat? What's that supposed to mean?"
Yoru tapped the corner of his mouth. "Mine's usually cold. You could cool yours off if you really need to."
It took her a second to catch the implication. Then—Her smile shifted. Sharper. More dangerous. The performance ended; this was the real Anko.
"Oh? Maybe next time I'll have you do that in front of Kurenai," she said sweetly. "Let's see how long you last."
The snap-back was quick, but so was the warning that followed. Anko's tone dropped as she tucked the kunai into her pouch.
"Orochimaru-sensei put us in the same squad. That doesn't mean I'm babysitting you."
Anko might have been impulsive, but she wasn't careless. Graduated at ten, chunin by twelve—she'd seen enough to know when someone was acting for reasons beyond a mission briefing.
Yoru shrugged. "Cold as ever. You didn't miss me at all, huh?"
She arched a brow. "Miss you? Please. I remember exactly who traded himself for one of Kurenai's necklaces back in school."
Yoru nearly choked. "That was years ago, and that's not how—"
"Save it." She stepped closer, voice lowered. "Why are you really here, Yoru? You maneuvered your way to the front lines, and suddenly Orochimaru-sensei takes an interest in you? Don't pretend it's coincidence."
She wasn't wrong.
And Yoru couldn't give her the real answer.
So he offered her something else.
"Anko, you want the truth?" He held up his fingers as if measuring a small amount. "I'm here to give you a chance. A profitable one. Ten thousand."
Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly am I—wait."The thought struck her.Hard.
"Don't tell me… The Uchiha Clan ordered you to get close to Orochimaru-sensei?"
Yoru shook his head. "Of course not. They ordered me to get close to his student. Subtle difference."
Her kunai stabbed into the wooden pole beside them with a sharp crack.
"Ten thousand? For that? You were Kurenai's boyfriend—her ex-boyfriend—and you want to drag me into your clan politics for pocket change?"
"Keyword being ex," Yoru said quickly. "That part matters."
Anko paused. Really paused.Then her lips curled upward, the beginnings of a very Anko-style grin.
"'Money-boyfriend,' more like. And you think I didn't notice you distancing yourself from Kurenai because the Uchiha are radioactive right now?"
She holstered her kunai and crossed her arms.
"Alright, Yoru. Let's talk real numbers. Thirty thousand. You get close to sensei, I pretend it was all your charm, and when your clan pays you for 'progress,' we split."
Yoru stared. "Thirty? The entire mission compensation from the clan is only thirty."
Her grin widened. "Ah. So that's your ceiling."
In one pivot she revealed she'd been bargaining the whole time.
Yoru exhaled sharply. "Fifteen each. Equal split."
"Not a chance," she shot back. "Take it or leave it: I get twenty, you get ten. Otherwise? You walk away empty."
It was the kind of ruthless logic only a war-time chunin could deliver.
"Fine," Yoru said at last, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Anko looked triumphant, but Yoru hid his own smile. She thought she'd wrung him dry.But she'd misunderstood something important.
Anko, you have no idea how valuable your position actually is.
Under Orochimaru—future sannin, future traitor, future nightmare—her proximity was worth far more than twenty thousand.
And Yoru wasn't losing money.He was buying access.
Anko pocketed her payment like a predator who'd cornered her prey.
Yoru walked beside her, outwardly resigned, inwardly satisfied.
Two shinobi.Two separate agendas.One temporary alliance.