STIN: Chapter 115/117

Chapter 115/116: All Thanks To Him

The heavy wooden door of the Hokage's office closed soundlessly behind Nawaki and Kaori, shutting out the warm sunlight and the faint bustle outside.

When the last faint scrape of the hinge faded, the air inside condensed at once. After watching Nawaki lead Kaori away, Hiruzen sat straight behind the massive desk. The crimson Hokage robe that symbolized the peak of power gleamed darkly under the somber light.

The gentle concern he had deliberately shown Kaori melted like snow in the sun, replaced by the calm scrutiny of a long-time leader handling core matters.

He no longer looked at Ryo. His wrinkled yet steady fingers landed precisely on the edge of an open dossier, tapping twice on the bold inked title on the cover, "Ame Frontline Briefing Outline."

"All right." Hiruzen's voice sounded steady, crisp, and directive, fully entering work mode.

He raised his eyes, no longer looking at a junior, but like a general assessing a strategic weapon. His gaze locked directly and sharply on Ryo, who stood like a spear. "We can focus on the front now. Ryo, Chūnin, report everything you have, in full. The cold ink on scrolls cannot match the truth seen by living eyes."

Ryo's voice was even. He recalled, and scenes of Amegakure filled his mind, smoke and downpour. He did not ramble. He cut straight to the core, concise but precise. "The three-way meat grinder has stabilized into a fixed state."

He laid out the brutal slaughter at the front, Hanzō's predicament, Konoha's tug-of-war with Suna, Iwa's raids, and the failure in Root's intelligence network. He focused on the carnage at B-7 and on how he tore open Iwa's encirclement to rescue the Sannin.

Hiruzen listened in silence. He needed fresher, concrete information from eyes just returned from the furnace of flesh and blood. Soon, he had what he needed. It matched the reports on the scrolls closely, which steadied his heart.

Every time he heard this staggering record, no matter how many times he had read it, the veteran Hokage still felt a jolt.

He quietly picked up another sealed scroll at the corner of the desk, marked with the Medical Corps' seal. It recorded the sudden incident during Ryo's mission in Kusagakure, the bloody battle against Kakuzu, strict and thorough.

Two severe injuries stacked. The ferocity and resilience of the red-haired boy before him were monstrous. Thirteen years old. The thorn labeled dangerous buried itself a little deeper in his mind.

After thinking in silence for a while, Hiruzen leaned forward slightly. The topic turned, and the atmosphere tightened with the weight of a senior's earnest admonition, although the political calculation beneath it was obvious.

"As for the matter in the Land of Grass …" Hiruzen's voice sank, his brows knitting. His fingers tapped lightly on the desk without thinking.

"Ryo, what you did was too extreme. However unworthy Kusagakure may be, they are nominally an ally of Konoha. Annihilating the entire village, the methods were excessively severe. The impact on Konoha's international reputation could be significant. We are a righteous army, a model among the Five Great Nations. We must consider consequences and image, and mind our restraint." He emphasized his tone. "There may have been filth within Kusagakure, but eradicating them root and branch, was that not too radical and heavy-handed? Konoha's shinobi must uphold Konoha's responsibility and bearing."

The familiar talk of guarding one's image and political correctness. Routine.

He knew it was time to throw out the scapegoat.

A cold gleam of mockery flashed deep in Ryo's black eyes, though his face stayed impassive.

"Hokage-sama, please judge clearly." He spoke, and there was even a trace of barely perceptible, formal compliance. "The annihilation of Kusagakure was not due to bloodlust. It was a wartime emergency order issued directly from the Ame front by Danzō-sama. His exact words were, 'Traitors like those dogs from Kusa, a cancer, should be eradicated completely. Destroying them is the right purge.' He pressed it as overall commander with a first-class wartime order. As a Konoha Chūnin, orders are as a mountain. I did not dare disobey." He paused slightly. "The mission scroll should have been submitted in duplicate by Danzō-sama. The directive content matches his consistent iron-blooded style. All I did was execute the order strictly."

The blame was shifted cleanly and righteously.

As expected.

The instant the name Danzō was clearly spoken, Hiruzen's fingers froze on his beard. The earlier expression of heavy care for the village found a floodgate. In an instant, a mix of I see, scapegoat in position, and habitual exasperation at that one's methods washed away the weight. Even the wrinkles on his face seemed to find a new way to relax, shifting from worried to the slightly reproving look of I knew it.

"As expected of him." Hiruzen's voice rose a touch, carrying a helpless sternness that said this is no surprise.

The righteous-lecture he had aimed at Ryo switched targets seamlessly to Root's absent leader. "Danzō. Too extreme. Too rigid. Always mired in Root's methods. Strength and iron-blood are not wrong, but there is a time and a place. He must consider the village's overall image and long-term interests. Does he see the rules I, the Hokage, set or not?"

Hiruzen launched into a long but very safe denunciation of Danzō. Every line seemed to help "exonerate" Ryo, implying that the atrocity was caused by a bad order. The subtext was plain. The main responsibility lies with the professional scapegoat, Danzō. My reprimand of him shows I understand your difficulties.

Watching how practiced Hiruzen was at turning the spear toward Danzō, he felt the familiar dance take shape.

He knew Hiruzen needed this blade to keep drinking blood on the Ame front, so he would not delve deeper now. He was also happy to let Danzō carry the name of excessive extremity. Hiruzen's glorious, righteous image was propped up by Danzō taking the blame in the shadows. Today's throw-and-catch went smoothly with tacit coordination.

After a standard round of scolding Danzō, Hiruzen's tone lightened again. He looked back at Ryo with more gentleness and understanding, and a touch of satisfaction with his own scapegoat work. "Enough. Since there was cause, I will speak with Danzō. Ryo, rest in the rear for now and recover. The front needs your strength, but remember to act with more caution." That final caution served as both reminder and as the final no-guilt verdict of today's talk. The stick was lifted high and put down lightly, without touching Ryo at all.

When it came to taking the blame, Danzō was a professional. You could say Hiruzen's current glorious and righteous Hokage image relied on Danzō. Danzō. Still Danzō.

"Yes, Hokage-sama." Ryo inclined his head. Sitting through Hiruzen's moral lecture in the Hokage's office was more tedious than standing in the Wailing Gorge braving poison fog. Only one thought remained in his head. End this and leave.

The mission was done, the blame shifted, and the rest order secured. Ryo spoke to take his leave at once, his voice steady and firm. "If there are no further orders, I will withdraw. Kaori has just settled in and needs to be placed properly at the Senju residence."

"Mm, go on." Hiruzen waved as a matter of course, the customary benevolent smile returning to his face.

Ryo did not dawdle. He turned and left. As he pushed open the great wooden door, the unique bustle of Konoha's streets flooded in with the evening air. He did not pause, his destination clear, the Senju estate.

Ryo's figure suddenly accelerated. He flashed between the shadows of buildings near the Hokage Tower and the streetlamps just lighting, like a red bolt merging with the night wind, speeding straight toward the clan district.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 117: Moving In Starts with Demolition

Dusk melted to gold, bathing Konoha's shopping street in warm orange. Ryo had just escaped the stifling air of the Hokage Tower and walked headlong into long-missed, everyday bustle.

"Ryo!" Kushina's voice went off like kindling catching flame, bursting over the market noise. Her hair, a blaze of red in the sunset, shone brilliantly. Her smile was bright as she waved hard. Mikoto stood beside her. A little farther back were Nawaki, fresh from the Senju residence, and Kaori, clinging nervously to the hem of his jacket.

"Group dinner. We have to have a group dinner." Kushina hopped over in two quick bounds, her blue eyes shining with the joy of reunion and the natural righteousness of her tone. "To celebrate you making it back safe, and to celebrate, to celebrate that I have new family." She snuck a quick glance at Kaori. The girl ducked her head even lower.

Nawaki grinned wide. "Perfect timing. Ryo, you haven't lost your touch, right? I'm about to hurl if I eat one more ration pill."

Mikoto stood half a step behind Kushina. The curve of her lips was just right as she chimed in softly, "Yes. It's been a while since we tasted Ryo's cooking."

Kaori said nothing, only scrunched Nawaki's coat hem tighter in her small hand. Ryo's gaze swept over them, and, thinking of his long-neglected, war-worn place, he made a quick decision.

"Let's go," Ryo nodded, intent clear. "Buy ingredients. We will cook at home."

Turning into a familiar lane, Ryo hesitated for the first time.

The house before him was a brand-new, three-story courtyard home, white walls and dark tiles, standing quiet in the twilight, nothing like the weathered, timeworn place in his memory. The faintest crease of confusion had just touched his brow when the little tomato beside him popped it like a bubble.

"Well? How is it?" Kushina hopped up the stone steps, hands on hips. Her red hair danced in the breeze. Excitement, plus a touch of credit due, was written all over her face. "That shabby little place of yours totally wronged me. How are we supposed to live there? I had the crew tear it all down and rebuild. From now on, this is our home." Her voice grew smaller as she spoke, a blush climbing her cheeks. She hurried to add, "The Senju compound is too big and too empty. It just makes me think of Grandma Mito. I'm not staying there alone."

"Living off her?" The phrase flickered through Ryo's mind, then washed away beneath something stronger.

"Not bad." The corner of Ryo's mouth ticked up, rare as sunrise. He pushed open the freshly lacquered door. Behind him came Nawaki's awed clucking and Kushina's triumphant hum. Mikoto's eyes touched the new lintel and slipped away at once, calm as a still pond. Only the fingers holding the grocery bag tightened, just a little.

In the brightly lit kitchen, Ryo was in his element. Steel flashed tame in his hands. Under precise, forceful cuts, ingredients surrendered into neat cubes and shreds. The spatula flew, flames licked the wok, and oil-smoke detonated into a domineering fragrance.

"Smells amazing." Nawaki plastered himself to the doorway, sniffed hard, and crowed, "Ryo, if you don't open a restaurant, it's a crime."

Kushina busied herself laying out bowls and chopsticks, movements a touch clumsier and sweeter than usual. She kept sneaking looks at the tall, focused silhouette in the kitchen, the corners of her mouth tipping up.

"Big sis…" Kaori sat at the table, still a little stiff. Kushina put her bowl down at once, sat beside her, slipped an arm around her shoulders, and started whispering little stories from the day's shopping, doing her best to let the girl relax. Nawaki poured tea with his usual, big-hearted clatter.

Mikoto sat on Kaori's other side, quietly helping arrange the tableware. Her motions were as elegant as ever, but her eyes were a shade unfocused. Whenever they skimmed across Kushina's cloudless smile, or that intent figure in the kitchen, they flicked away as though from heat. The lively air wrapped around her, yet felt separated by an invisible screen. Under the table, her hands rested on her knees, fingers faintly curled, never fully at ease.

Dishes stacked quickly, layer on layer. Warm light, good food, familiar young friends, and a brand-new, blood-related little red-haired sister. Laughter and Nawaki's clowning filled the new house. He brought up Minato's Flying Thunder God. Mikoto answered with a polite, fitting smile. Kushina never stopped piling food into Ryo's and Kaori's bowls, like a songbird who had finished her nest and was perfectly content. The smell of smoke and blood seemed chased clean away by this simple dinner.

But the warmth did not last to the end. When the table lay a battlefield of plates and night had deepened, Nawaki wiped his mouth and stood. "All right, Kaori, time for home and rest. Eat up, get strong, and next time we'll empty your Brother Ryo's pantry."

Kaori looked instinctively to Kushina, then anxiously to Ryo. Kushina's smile froze for a heartbeat, then she nodded hard. "Right. Go with Nawaki tonight. We will see each other tomorrow."

Ryo gave a small nod, acknowledging Konoha's unspoken rule. Newly found Uzumaki, for now, would live under Senju care and village protection rather than move in immediately.

Nawaki took Kaori's hand with an easy grin. "Don't worry, I've got her. See you, Ryo. I'll come by tomorrow." He swept out, Kaori looking back with every other step. The quiet click of the closing door seemed to draw off a layer of noise from the room.

Mikoto rose as well, her movements smooth, as if rehearsed a hundred times. "Kushina, Ryo-kun, it's getting late. I should be going." Her voice was gentle as always, her face showing the right measure of happiness for her friend and the little sister who had found a home. Only when she turned to Ryo, when their eyes touched, did the perfect smile ripple, like a pebble breaking a lake's surface. A heartbeat later, it was still again.

"Careful on the way, Mikoto." Kushina waved, oblivious, warm as ever.

"Thank you for the meal." Mikoto dipped her head. As she turned out the door, her spine seemed even straighter. Cool night wind flowed in. The door closed softly behind her with a click, sealing the last of the light within, and perhaps shutting out that tiny, magnified loss in her eyes. Moonlight spilled like quicksilver outside, cold as frost.

In the new-built house, only two remained. The space that had been merry a moment before now held the small sounds of breath and the hush beyond the window.

Kushina still wore her smile, but night had tinted it with a thin, transparent blush, spreading from her cheeks to the small curves of her ears. The heat that had pressed on her heart since his return, briefly buried by reunion, now surged like long-banked lava, bare and bright. Her hands and feet forgot themselves. The brisk housekeeper competence she had shown earlier had vanished without a trace.

"So, um…" Kushina cleared her dry throat, trying to summon her usual breeziness, only for her voice to sink, laced, without her noticing, with a soft, kittenish quiver. "The house, is it okay? I, uh, pushed them to finish fast…" She cut off suddenly.

Ryo stood a step behind her, silent. His broad, steady hand lifted without a word, carrying a warmth forged on the battlefield and a quiet, irresistible certainty, and came to rest lightly on her shoulder.

A shiver like lightning ran from that touch through her whole body. Kushina's spine tightened like a sprung trap. Her heartbeat thundered like drums.

The room's air turned thick and hot. On the fresh white walls, the light threw a single, gently swaying shadow, two figures, overlapping.

"Kushina."

Ryo's low voice brushed her ear, roughened like stone on sand, yet strangely hot. He leaned in a fraction. His scent, smoke and sweat braided with the evening's street-side life, rose like an invisible tide and drowned her all at once.

"I'm back.

"About that reward we talked about?"

(To be continued.)