Satoru stood over the body, his gaze empty as he examined the life he had just taken. The pleasure that had once surged through him in the moment of power was now gone, replaced by a hollowness that gnawed at his insides.
The storm overhead seemed to mirror his internal chaos, the clouds rumbling as if warning him of the storm brewing within himself. The heavy rain began to fall, and he felt its cold touch against his skin, though it did little to numb the turmoil that churned in his chest.
He worked quickly, his hands moving quickly as he stored the body away in a scroll, properly erasing every trace of his involvement. His mind flickered to the woman who remained alive, her terrified eyes still burned into his memory. For a moment, he considered ending her as well, silencing any witness to his actions. But something held him back. She had only seen him as someone else. Perhaps it was mercy, perhaps guilt, but he chose to spare her, turning away without a word.
As he left the alley, the rain intensified, soaking his cloak. He didn't hurry home, his thoughts far too heavy to be distracted by the urgency of seeking shelter. Instead, his mind replayed the events, the brutal, calculated steps he had taken. The question echoed in his mind—was it worth it?
The rush, the power, the feeling of dominance over another life… it had been intoxicating, almost addictive. But now, as he walked through the rain-soaked streets, another thought began to surface: 'should I do it again?' The darkness inside him seemed to whisper that perhaps he should, that there would always be another reason, another victim to eliminate.
But then, just as quickly, shame followed. His conscience, buried beneath layers of rationalization, now clawed its way to the surface. He should be ashamed. The realization cut deep, a bitter sting that he couldn't shake. Yet, despite the weight of his own self-loathing, a part of him wondered whether the darkness he had embraced was already too far gone to ever be extinguished.
Satoru trudged back home, his clothes clinging to him, soaked by the rain. The scent of blood and dirt mixed with the wet, earthy stench of the storm. It was as though the weight of his actions had seeped into every fiber of his being, coating him in something far heavier than the rain itself.
The streets blurred as he walked, his mind in turmoil, but it was the familiar walls of his home that finally offered some semblance of relief. He stumbled inside, not sparing a glance at anything around him as he made his way straight to the bathroom.
Turning the shower on, Satoru stood under the rushing water, the cold jets biting into his skin. He didn't move, letting the droplets wash over him, but they couldn't wash away the thoughts clawing at his mind. Tears mixed with the water, but it wasn't the kind of release he had hoped for.
The sobs came unbidden, raw and uncontrollable, as the weight of what he had done crushed him from the inside out. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but when he finally turned off the water, his body was trembling, though not from the cold.
He wrapped himself in a towel, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale, eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark circles. The hollow feeling inside him hadn't eased. It hadn't even started to fade.
With a sigh, he dragged himself to his bed, collapsing onto the sheets. His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to relent. The events of the night kept replaying over and over again, and sleep never came. The night stretched on, a restless torment.
The next morning, a knock at his door jolted him out of his thoughts. Tatsuo's voice drifted through the wood, calm and persistent. "Satoru, can I come in?"
Satoru blinked, his heavy eyes focusing as he stood up and opened the door. Tatsuo stood there, his expression shifted to concern as he took in Satoru's appearance. Dark circles, a face drained of color—it was clear Satoru hadn't slept a wink.
"What is it, Tatsuo?" Satoru's voice came out rough, hoarse from the emotional turmoil of the night.
"It's time to go for training. Chomi's expecting us," Tatsuo replied, his tone unwavering.
Satoru nodded, unable to muster more than a quiet acknowledgment. He closed the door behind him and moved to change into his training clothes.
A week passed in a blur of training and exhaustion. The sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows on the forest floor where Satoru, Tatsuo, and Chomi were still at work.
Satoru's focus was absolute as he concentrated on his punch, his fist coming to a complete stop just before touching the leaf suspended in mid-air. Then, a faint burst of wind rippled through the air, causing the leaf to tremble before it was sent fluttering away by the smallest impact.
"You've got it," Chomi said, nodding approvingly. "You've started grasping the concept of ranged burst."
Before Satoru could reply, a familiar voice interrupted their moment. Shinichi approached from the distance, his calm but firm footsteps cutting through the forest silence.
"Satoru," he called out, bringing his hands together in a quick greeting. "Kaito's awake. He'll be discharged soon."
Satoru's heart skipped a beat. Kaito. The thought of his teammate recovering brought a strange sense of relief, though it was overshadowed by the weight of his own turmoil. Chomi, sensing the shift, added, "It's about time. You've been working nonstop this past week. Maybe it's time to visit your friend, huh?"
Satoru glanced at the leaf once more, still unsure if he had done enough, if he had learned enough. "I still need more training," he muttered quietly.
Tatsuo, noticing Satoru's exhaustion, stepped forward. "You can't keep training like a madman," he said firmly. "You need to take some rest. You can't push yourself forever."
Satoru met Tatsuo's concerned gaze, his tired eyes betraying the strain he had been putting on himself. After a long moment of silence, he relented. "Alright," he sighed. "Let's go."
Shinichi, leading the way, glanced at Satoru as they walked. "You've been pushing yourself hard lately. What's going on? Why the sudden change? You've been like this since last week."
Satoru hesitated, his gaze fixed on the ground ahead of him. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I just... I don't know what else to do."
Shinichi slowed his pace, guilt flashing across his face. He had an inkling of what might be the cause, but he couldn't be sure. "Is it because of me... and Mitsuki?" he asked, the question hanging heavy between them.
Satoru's eyes flicked to Shinichi, his expression momentarily cold. "It's not because of you," he said, his voice almost a whisper, but then his gaze sharpened. "But stay away from Mitsuki-sensei. Don't get too close."
Satoru opened the door to Kaito's room, pausing briefly before stepping inside. The air was heavy, the faint smell of antiseptic lingering. He immediately noticed Chosuke sitting on the floor, casually munching on snacks with a distant expression. Chosuke barely glanced up, only acknowledging Satoru and Shinichi with a small nod.
Satoru's gaze shifted to Kaito, lying on the bed. His eyes were half-open, staring blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought. The vibrant energy Kaito once carried seemed absent, replaced by a somber stillness.
"What happened?" Satoru asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern.
Chosuke sighed, setting his bag of snacks aside. "He's been like this since he woke up. Doesn't say much, just stares off like that."
Satoru and Shinichi approached the bed, their footsteps soft. Kaito noticed them and shifted his gaze slightly, though his expression remained impassive. "How's Inoko?" he asked Shinichi, his voice quiet and hoarse.
Shinichi hesitated for a moment before answering. "She's officially retired. Disabled. Still recovering."
Kaito's jaw tightened as a tear rolled down his cheek. He turned his head slightly, breaking eye contact with both of them. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. "You two... leave."
Satoru and Chosuke exchanged uncertain glances but complied, stepping out of the room. The door closed softly behind them, leaving Kaito and Shinichi alone.
Kaito swallowed hard and looked at Shinichi. "Can I... see her? Just once."
Shinichi nodded without hesitation. "I'll make it happen," he assured, his tone steady.
Kaito gave a weak, almost imperceptible nod. "Thanks."
Shinichi lingered briefly before standing, watching Kaito for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing faintly down the corridor.
Shinichi walked toward a nearby nurse, his footsteps purposeful. "Can you arrange a wheelchair?" he asked, his tone firm but polite.
The nurse nodded and quickly left to fulfill his request. Turning back, Shinichi approached Satoru and Chosuke, who were standing quietly in the hallway. "Do you two have someone to train with for the next few months?"
Satoru thought for a moment before replying, "After I'm done training with Chomi, I'd like to train under you."
Shinichi shook his head. "I appreciate the thought, but that's not going to happen. You already have connections with plenty of shinobi to learn from." His gaze shifted to the door of Kaito's room. "Right now, Kaito needs me more than either of you do. I'll be dedicating my time to training him."
Sensing the potential for misunderstanding, Shinichi turned back to the boys. "This isn't favoritism. I hope you both understand that."
Chosuke raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "We get it. You don't need to explain yourself, Shinichi-sensei."
Shinichi's expression softened slightly. The nurse soon returned with a wheelchair, and Shinichi thanked her before wheeling it into Kaito's room.
Kaito, still lying on the bed, furrowed his brows when he saw it. "What's that for?"
Shinichi placed the wheelchair beside the bed. "We're going to the Yamanaka clan compound," he replied simply.
Kaito blinked in surprise, sitting up slightly. "Why there?"
Shinichi gave him a faint smile. "You'll see soon enough. Get ready."
Shinichi pushed Kaito's wheelchair through the Yamanaka clan compound after gaining permission from the guards at the gate. Shinichi asked a few people for directions and finally arrived at Inoko's house.
Stopping in front of the modest door, Shinichi glanced at Kaito. "Are you sure about this? She's not in great condition."
Kaito's face was resolute, though his eyes betrayed some hesitation. "I want to talk to her."
With a nod, Shinichi opened the door and wheeled Kaito inside. Sitting on a low chair was Inoko, almost unrecognizable. Her head was bald, her body heavily bandaged, and one arm was missing. Her remaining arm rested in a cast, and she was sipping tea through a long straw.
Shinichi quietly brought Kaito closer and then stepped outside, leaving them alone.
Inoko looked up and immediately smiled. "Kaito, it's good to see you," she said, her voice hoarse but warm.
Kaito swallowed hard, forcing a small smile. "How are you doing, Inoko-sensei?"
She chuckled lightly, despite her frailty. "I'm still alive, aren't I? That counts for something. How about you?"
Kaito's smile faltered. "I've been in a lot of pain. The sister of an enemy ninja... she came after me for killing her brother."
Inoko's smile faded. "When did that happen?"
"On the bandit mission," Kaito replied, his voice tinged with regret.
There was a moment of silence before Inoko laughed softly. "Well, at least you made it out of that mission with all your limbs intact." She gestured to herself with the stump of what used to be her hand. "Can't say the same for me!"