Jurou shifted her diary and folder of documents onto her right forearm with her fingers curling inwards to clutch them in place as she straightened the pleats of her long white skirt and tucked the strands of hair falling on her face behind her ear.
She straightened her back and pressed the white doorbell button that had turned yellow from the elements with time. She stepped back and waited for a dozen seconds or so before she heard footsteps behind the door with cracked sky-blue paint that had once contrasted beautifully with the gray walls that had now faded away.
The darkness inside the spyhole in the door lit up for a moment before the darkness returned. The door opened a few seconds later, showing the boy that stood half-hidden by the door.
"Yes?" asked the boy.
Jurou gazed at the boy and matched the face in her file with the one in front of him. "Hello, Takuma. It is Umeda Jurou. Don't you remember me? We met when I showed you the apartment on the day you moved in. I even visited you a few months back."
The boy narrowed his eyes as if doubting her words. "I see... and what brings you here?" he asked.
"I came for a scheduled home visit," Jurou said. She wasn't fazed by the doubt from Takuma. Orphans studying in the shinobi academy were sometimes more guarded and suspicious than their civilian counterparts— she had met a few of them through the years. She was going to make sure Takuma here felt comfortable with her.
"Scheduled visit?" Takuma frowned. "I wasn't informed about any visit, scheduled or not. I'm sorry, who are you again?"
Jurou took out a laminated id-card from the slit in the cover of her leather diary and held it in front of Takuma. "My name is Umeda Jurou. I'm from Leaf Child Welfare Services. I'm here for a scheduled meetup with you. You weren't told because we like to keep them secret and give people a pleasant surprise," she smiled. "I'd like to have a short talk with you, get to know how you are doing, and just ask some questions that are part of the procedure. It's nothing serious."
And she was here to assess how he was handling life living alone after having lived in an orphanage where children were never alone.
Juruo was about to pull back her id-card when Takuma suddenly snatched it out of her hand. He looked at her and said, "This is a sketchy neighborhood, and while you look like a lovely person, I hope you don't mind," and began intently reading her id-card.
She was a little taken aback; she hadn't had her id-card taken from her for observation. Usually, people gave it barely a glance before looking back at her.
"Of-Of course," she said with a strained smile.
"This looks... right," Takuma said as he handed the id-card back to her. "I apologize if I came across as rude. I couldn't recall seeing you before. I'm bad with names and faces, you see." He opened the door and stepped back to invite her inside.
'And yet you want to become a shinobi,' Jurou thought as she entered the house.
Takuma messily kicked off his outsider slippers beside his dirty shinobi sandals— one of them was lying sideways, and she could see mud caked inside the groves of the sole. Takuma asked her to wait before running inside the house. When he returned, he had a pair of indoor slippers in his hands.
"Please wear these," he said.
Jurou noticed Takuma wasn't wearing any.
'He has appropriate house manners... till now,' Juro jotted a mental note as she removed her short heels and slipped on the indoor slippers. She had seen shinobi orphans who were their outside shoes and sandals inside their house, bringing in dirt and mud along with them.
Takuma next guided her into the house. By guided, she meant she followed him into the small studio apartment, and her eyes widened for a moment as she took in the inside.
The last time she had been here was nearly five months back, and at that time, like every other orphan, Takuma's place was a mess. Clothes lying everywhere, weeks' worth of trash accumulated on the table- unthrown, walls and floor that looked like they hadn't been dusted and cleaned in months— it was filthy and messier than an adult bachelor's pad. She had filled it in her report and had advised Takuma to clean up. It wasn't a concern at that time— the orphans who left their orphanage because of the academy rule had dirty homes, but they usually got better with time as they became shinobi and learned to be organized from their militant life.
She wasn't expecting to see a clean home today. 'At least not this clean,' she thought. The house was spotless. The living area looked empty, but that was because there wasn't enough furniture, but whatever there was, it was tidied. She could see the kitchen, and it looked hygienic (and used) with clean dishes in the dish rack. The floor beneath her was old and had long lost its shine, but it looked like it was dusted and moped.
'Maybe he stuffed everything into his bedroom.' She had been on visits where the children had tried to make their home look clean by shoving everything into a room or closet. She was going to check it later. If not, then atleast fortunately after being a slob in his newfound freedom he has now adopted a neater way of living, probably to have some structure to cling on to. Orphans generally had 'one neat aspect'— their life is chaotic so the one thing they do to feel in control by keeping one thing in control.
"Please take a seat," Takuma pointed at the small two-seater table. "I hope water is fine with you. I have fresh milk with me if you want any."
"Water will do, thank you," Jurou said as she sat down. The table had a small potted plant on it. She touched it and froze when she felt the plastic leaves— it was fake.
As Takuma was in the kitchen, Jurou let her eyes roam around the house. The decor was simple, and while she couldn't recall the furniture at all from her last visit, she felt it hadn't changed much. The heavy gray sheet on the couch did seem odd, but it didn't look like he was hiding something underneath it.
'He seems to be handling his house well,' Jurou thought. That was a good sign.
She was facing the small balcony with large half-glass sliding doors, the only natural light source in the room. Outside, she could see clothes hanging on the wire. Jurou turned away from the window and towards another wall when she jumped in her seat because of surprise.
There was a wide wall behind her with no decor. It would've been empty if not for the vast amount of paper stuck to the wall. Clusters and rows of full-sized, half-sized, and even quarter-sized sheets of paper were attached to the wall with tape. Every page had something written and drawn upon it. Jurou couldn't read it from her spot and was about to get up when she heard.
"Please don't look at it."
Takuma had returned with a tray in his hand. He set it down on the table, and it had a glass of water and a mug of steaming milk.
"What is that?" she asked.
"My notes. I like it when they're in front of me; it helps when I'm trying to remember and memorize things." Takuma smiled abashedly. "It's not usually this messy and full. I just got lazy and didn't pull down topics I was already done with."
Jurou stared at the notes. This didn't seem right.
"So, you said you wanted to ask me some questions?" Takuma asked.
She looked back at him. After a pause, she nodded. "I just wanted to know how're you doing? I know it can be tough living alone— there's so much to do around the house, and it can seem like a lot, especially when you're attending the academy. You must be busy."
Takuma shrugged. "It was difficult at first, but I got used to it. Things settled into a routine, and nothing gets piled up as long as I do the chores on time."
Jurou opened her diary and uncapped her pen. "How are things at the academy going? I hope everything's well. If I recall correctly, you are in your last year." She clearly knew Takuma was in his last year.
"Hmm, things have been going well," Takuma nodded. "I have been learning a lot. Some of it is interesting, some other is boring. But you know, that's normal. Lots of spars. We even spent the night in the forest the other day. It was fun. I'm trying to do better— and well, looking forward to becoming a shinobi at the end of the year."
'With your grades, that's not going to happen,' Jurou thought to herself as she took down her notes.
The 'scheduled' visit was indeed scheduled for every orphan in the last year of the shinobi academy. But usually, they would be informed about the visit beforehand. Takuma's case was... entirely different.
Jurou looked at the boy, who according to his file, was dead last in his class with grades and skills so bad that many second-year and most third-year students would do better if they were dumped in the last year. Takuma hadn't won a spar in three years and had barely scored passing marks since he joined the academy. But things had gotten worse recently when Takuma had suddenly gotten progressively worse.
Which prompted the appropriate systems in place to alert the authorities about the situation. Jurou's visit was a result of that. She was here to find out the reason behind all of it.
She was then to compile her findings into a report which would go to shinobi administration authorities, who would then take them into account while deciding if Takuma was fit to be a Leaf shinobi. Or, in case he fails the graduation test, is he worth it to keep in the academy or to be enrolled into a program like the civilian spy program where Takuma would have his identity erased and sent to places of importance as a spy for information for a very long time to build an identity that would stand even the strongest checks— that kind of false identity took even decades to build, and sending a shinobi was a waste of resources. Thus, a civilian was sent. And who else better than a failed academy graduate.
Even though the boy in front of her didn't know, this meeting was extremely important for him.
"What about money?" she asked as the conversation continued. "Have you been spending your allowance properly?"
"Yeah, I think I've been," Takuma said. "The month ends usually end up tighter than I would like, but what can I do." He shrugged before leaning forward and asking, "Is there any way I can have my allowance increased? You see—"
"I'm sorry, everyone gets the same allowance, and increasing it doesn't happen if not very special cases," she said, ending the turn of conversation before it could even start.
Takuma sighed as he leaned back into his chair. "Thought so... no harm in trying, though."
"How do you usually spend your allowance? What do you usually buy in a week," she asked.
Takuma stood up and walked into his bedroom, and soon returned with a file in hand. "Here you go. This is my budget and expenses for the last three months and the current month, which is still going. You can see my expenses on every day I spent money since I started this record. Receipts, whatever I could get, are attached for reference."
Taken aback once more, Jurou received the file and opened it to find a very detailed record of Takuma's expenses. Every expense had been mentioned clearly— where, when, and how much. She flipped to a random part of the file and saw Takuma had bought groceries—
"You cook?" she asked when she saw what looked like ingredients.
"I do; it's cheaper that way."
That was another positive point for Takuma... and yet it only served to confuse Jurou more. She flipped to the last page and saw Takuma's last purchase was leather from a fabric store.
When she asked him about it, he responded. "I have been learning how to repair my equipment for a couple months now. The best way to do it is to make your own."
And then Takuma leaned down to pull up the legs of his pants to reveal a leather ankle holster. He pulled a small knife out of it and placed it on the table with the blade facing Jurou. She looked at the gleaming knife and then at Takuma, who simply smiled as if proud of his skill.
"Hey... I wonder if that," Takuma pointed at the file in front of Jurou, "is about. Hey, can you show that to me for a moment."
Takuma reached out, but Jurou pulled the file back. "I'm sorry, but the file is for official eyes only. I can't let you see it," she said with an apologetic file. The file didn't have anything in it, but it made a good tactic for making the person nervous— and distracting them away from the conversation, which made them slip out answers without meaning to.
"Is that so," Takuma hummed as he leaned back into his chair. He looked like he had lost all interest in the conversation.
"What are your days like?" Jurou asked. "Tell me, after I leave, what will you do next. Take it from there."
Takuma picked up the knife and began twirling it with his fingers. "Hmm, today's Sunday, so I don't have to train. I will go shopping for groceries, then clean the house, then start making dinner, tomorrow's breakfast, and lunch as well. I will wash clothes while it's getting cooked. Have an early dinner because I skipped lunch. Then spend the time until bed studying, practicing secondary skills, and just relaxing a little..."
That was a normal Sunday, too normal. Jurou thought a kid of Takuma's age would like to go out and play.
"... Tomorrow, I will wake up at five, take a dump, get the clothes down from the wire, " Takuma said, making Jurou hold back a frown— was he wasting time by going into such detail, she didn't need to know when he got his clothes down from drying,
"Then I will leave home to go train with Maruboshi-sensei—"
"Maruboshi?" Jurou interrupted. That was the first time Takuma had mentioned a person. He hadn't even mentioned his academy teacher, the primary adult figure in his life. 'And did he say sensei?' "Who is this Maruboshi-sensei?"
Takuma suddenly stopped twirling the dangerous knife. He looked at her and stayed silent for a good moment as all sound died down in the house. She didn't speak, didn't even urge him to continue.
"... A shinobi," he said simply and only that.
"And why does this Maruboshi-sensei train with you?" she asked.
Takuma shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know; he just does."
"You never asked?"
"Why would I? A shinobi offered to train me, and I accepted. He's a shinobi, after all," Takuma finished with a glimmer of idealism in his eyes.
There was nothing about someone known as Maruboshi in Takuma's file. An unknown shinobi interacting with an academy orphan; she needed to report that. That unknown shinobi could very well be an enemy spy trying to recruit a naive orphan into becoming a mole. Why else would a shinobi help an orphan like Takuma who had nothing to offer. According to Takuma's file, his parents were supposed to be traveling merchants who did business across the Land of Fire, and had died in an accident during the Kyuubi incident. An unfortunate time for them into the Leaf village.
"What does he look like?" she asked.
"Hmm? He's tall, strong, knows a lot, is kind, and really-really cool," Takuma said with a smile. "Do you know he can throw ten shurikens, all at once, at the dead center of the target? How cool is that?!"
That description. Jurou frowned. That described every adult shinobi from the eyes of an idolizing ten-year-old. That didn't narrow it down even a little.
"Do you have his full name?" she asked.
"... No?" Takuma said, his voice like a mosquito.
'Idiot,' she sighed and thought, 'that man probably gave him a false name.'
Jurou closed her diary and smiled, "Thank you, Takuma. That'll be all. You're living well, and I see no problems here. I hope you'll continue working hard and make the village proud by becoming a splendid shinobi."
As Jurou exited the small apartment complex, she looked up and saw Takuma standing in the corridor in front of his front door. He turned and walked back into his house just as she looked at him.
'Was he frowning?' she thought for a fleeting moment before walking away, thinking it was just her vision.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link below.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
Jurou shifted her diary and folder of documents onto her right forearm with her fingers curling inwards to clutch them in place as she straightened the pleats of her long white skirt and tucked the strands of hair falling on her face behind her ear.
She straightened her back and pressed the white doorbell button that had turned yellow from the elements with time. She stepped back and waited for a dozen seconds or so before she heard footsteps behind the door with cracked sky-blue paint that had once contrasted beautifully with the gray walls that had now faded away.
The darkness inside the spyhole in the door lit up for a moment before the darkness returned. The door opened a few seconds later, showing the boy that stood half-hidden by the door.
"Yes?" asked the boy.
Jurou gazed at the boy and matched the face in her file with the one in front of him. "Hello, Takuma. It is Umeda Jurou. Don't you remember me? We met when I showed you the apartment on the day you moved in. I even visited you a few months back."
The boy narrowed his eyes as if doubting her words. "I see... and what brings you here?" he asked.
"I came for a scheduled home visit," Jurou said. She wasn't fazed by the doubt from Takuma. Orphans studying in the shinobi academy were sometimes more guarded and suspicious than their civilian counterparts— she had met a few of them through the years. She was going to make sure Takuma here felt comfortable with her.
"Scheduled visit?" Takuma frowned. "I wasn't informed about any visit, scheduled or not. I'm sorry, who are you again?"
Jurou took out a laminated id-card from the slit in the cover of her leather diary and held it in front of Takuma. "My name is Umeda Jurou. I'm from Leaf Child Welfare Services. I'm here for a scheduled meetup with you. You weren't told because we like to keep them secret and give people a pleasant surprise," she smiled. "I'd like to have a short talk with you, get to know how you are doing, and just ask some questions that are part of the procedure. It's nothing serious."
And she was here to assess how he was handling life living alone after having lived in an orphanage where children were never alone.
Juruo was about to pull back her id-card when Takuma suddenly snatched it out of her hand. He looked at her and said, "This is a sketchy neighborhood, and while you look like a lovely person, I hope you don't mind," and began intently reading her id-card.
She was a little taken aback; she hadn't had her id-card taken from her for observation. Usually, people gave it barely a glance before looking back at her.
"Of-Of course," she said with a strained smile.
"This looks... right," Takuma said as he handed the id-card back to her. "I apologize if I came across as rude. I couldn't recall seeing you before. I'm bad with names and faces, you see." He opened the door and stepped back to invite her inside.
'And yet you want to become a shinobi,' Jurou thought as she entered the house.
Takuma messily kicked off his outsider slippers beside his dirty shinobi sandals— one of them was lying sideways, and she could see mud caked inside the groves of the sole. Takuma asked her to wait before running inside the house. When he returned, he had a pair of indoor slippers in his hands.
"Please wear these," he said.
Jurou noticed Takuma wasn't wearing any.
'He has appropriate house manners... till now,' Juro jotted a mental note as she removed her short heels and slipped on the indoor slippers. She had seen shinobi orphans who were their outside shoes and sandals inside their house, bringing in dirt and mud along with them.
Takuma next guided her into the house. By guided, she meant she followed him into the small studio apartment, and her eyes widened for a moment as she took in the inside.
The last time she had been here was nearly five months back, and at that time, like every other orphan, Takuma's place was a mess. Clothes lying everywhere, weeks' worth of trash accumulated on the table- unthrown, walls and floor that looked like they hadn't been dusted and cleaned in months— it was filthy and messier than an adult bachelor's pad. She had filled it in her report and had advised Takuma to clean up. It wasn't a concern at that time— the orphans who left their orphanage because of the academy rule had dirty homes, but they usually got better with time as they became shinobi and learned to be organized from their militant life.
She wasn't expecting to see a clean home today. 'At least not this clean,' she thought. The house was spotless. The living area looked empty, but that was because there wasn't enough furniture, but whatever there was, it was tidied. She could see the kitchen, and it looked hygienic (and used) with clean dishes in the dish rack. The floor beneath her was old and had long lost its shine, but it looked like it was dusted and moped.
'Maybe he stuffed everything into his bedroom.' She had been on visits where the children had tried to make their home look clean by shoving everything into a room or closet. She was going to check it later. If not, then atleast fortunately after being a slob in his newfound freedom he has now adopted a neater way of living, probably to have some structure to cling on to. Orphans generally had 'one neat aspect'— their life is chaotic so the one thing they do to feel in control by keeping one thing in control.
"Please take a seat," Takuma pointed at the small two-seater table. "I hope water is fine with you. I have fresh milk with me if you want any."
"Water will do, thank you," Jurou said as she sat down. The table had a small potted plant on it. She touched it and froze when she felt the plastic leaves— it was fake.
As Takuma was in the kitchen, Jurou let her eyes roam around the house. The decor was simple, and while she couldn't recall the furniture at all from her last visit, she felt it hadn't changed much. The heavy gray sheet on the couch did seem odd, but it didn't look like he was hiding something underneath it.
'He seems to be handling his house well,' Jurou thought. That was a good sign.
She was facing the small balcony with large half-glass sliding doors, the only natural light source in the room. Outside, she could see clothes hanging on the wire. Jurou turned away from the window and towards another wall when she jumped in her seat because of surprise.
There was a wide wall behind her with no decor. It would've been empty if not for the vast amount of paper stuck to the wall. Clusters and rows of full-sized, half-sized, and even quarter-sized sheets of paper were attached to the wall with tape. Every page had something written and drawn upon it. Jurou couldn't read it from her spot and was about to get up when she heard.
"Please don't look at it."
Takuma had returned with a tray in his hand. He set it down on the table, and it had a glass of water and a mug of steaming milk.
"What is that?" she asked.
"My notes. I like it when they're in front of me; it helps when I'm trying to remember and memorize things." Takuma smiled abashedly. "It's not usually this messy and full. I just got lazy and didn't pull down topics I was already done with."
Jurou stared at the notes. This didn't seem right.
"So, you said you wanted to ask me some questions?" Takuma asked.
She looked back at him. After a pause, she nodded. "I just wanted to know how're you doing? I know it can be tough living alone— there's so much to do around the house, and it can seem like a lot, especially when you're attending the academy. You must be busy."
Takuma shrugged. "It was difficult at first, but I got used to it. Things settled into a routine, and nothing gets piled up as long as I do the chores on time."
Jurou opened her diary and uncapped her pen. "How are things at the academy going? I hope everything's well. If I recall correctly, you are in your last year." She clearly knew Takuma was in his last year.
"Hmm, things have been going well," Takuma nodded. "I have been learning a lot. Some of it is interesting, some other is boring. But you know, that's normal. Lots of spars. We even spent the night in the forest the other day. It was fun. I'm trying to do better— and well, looking forward to becoming a shinobi at the end of the year."
'With your grades, that's not going to happen,' Jurou thought to herself as she took down her notes.
The 'scheduled' visit was indeed scheduled for every orphan in the last year of the shinobi academy. But usually, they would be informed about the visit beforehand. Takuma's case was... entirely different.
Jurou looked at the boy, who according to his file, was dead last in his class with grades and skills so bad that many second-year and most third-year students would do better if they were dumped in the last year. Takuma hadn't won a spar in three years and had barely scored passing marks since he joined the academy. But things had gotten worse recently when Takuma had suddenly gotten progressively worse.
Which prompted the appropriate systems in place to alert the authorities about the situation. Jurou's visit was a result of that. She was here to find out the reason behind all of it.
She was then to compile her findings into a report which would go to shinobi administration authorities, who would then take them into account while deciding if Takuma was fit to be a Leaf shinobi. Or, in case he fails the graduation test, is he worth it to keep in the academy or to be enrolled into a program like the civilian spy program where Takuma would have his identity erased and sent to places of importance as a spy for information for a very long time to build an identity that would stand even the strongest checks— that kind of false identity took even decades to build, and sending a shinobi was a waste of resources. Thus, a civilian was sent. And who else better than a failed academy graduate.
Even though the boy in front of her didn't know, this meeting was extremely important for him.
"What about money?" she asked as the conversation continued. "Have you been spending your allowance properly?"
"Yeah, I think I've been," Takuma said. "The month ends usually end up tighter than I would like, but what can I do." He shrugged before leaning forward and asking, "Is there any way I can have my allowance increased? You see—"
"I'm sorry, everyone gets the same allowance, and increasing it doesn't happen if not very special cases," she said, ending the turn of conversation before it could even start.
Takuma sighed as he leaned back into his chair. "Thought so... no harm in trying, though."
"How do you usually spend your allowance? What do you usually buy in a week," she asked.
Takuma stood up and walked into his bedroom, and soon returned with a file in hand. "Here you go. This is my budget and expenses for the last three months and the current month, which is still going. You can see my expenses on every day I spent money since I started this record. Receipts, whatever I could get, are attached for reference."
Taken aback once more, Jurou received the file and opened it to find a very detailed record of Takuma's expenses. Every expense had been mentioned clearly— where, when, and how much. She flipped to a random part of the file and saw Takuma had bought groceries—
"You cook?" she asked when she saw what looked like ingredients.
"I do; it's cheaper that way."
That was another positive point for Takuma... and yet it only served to confuse Jurou more. She flipped to the last page and saw Takuma's last purchase was leather from a fabric store.
When she asked him about it, he responded. "I have been learning how to repair my equipment for a couple months now. The best way to do it is to make your own."
And then Takuma leaned down to pull up the legs of his pants to reveal a leather ankle holster. He pulled a small knife out of it and placed it on the table with the blade facing Jurou. She looked at the gleaming knife and then at Takuma, who simply smiled as if proud of his skill.
"Hey... I wonder if that," Takuma pointed at the file in front of Jurou, "is about. Hey, can you show that to me for a moment."
Takuma reached out, but Jurou pulled the file back. "I'm sorry, but the file is for official eyes only. I can't let you see it," she said with an apologetic file. The file didn't have anything in it, but it made a good tactic for making the person nervous— and distracting them away from the conversation, which made them slip out answers without meaning to.
"Is that so," Takuma hummed as he leaned back into his chair. He looked like he had lost all interest in the conversation.
"What are your days like?" Jurou asked. "Tell me, after I leave, what will you do next. Take it from there."
Takuma picked up the knife and began twirling it with his fingers. "Hmm, today's Sunday, so I don't have to train. I will go shopping for groceries, then clean the house, then start making dinner, tomorrow's breakfast, and lunch as well. I will wash clothes while it's getting cooked. Have an early dinner because I skipped lunch. Then spend the time until bed studying, practicing secondary skills, and just relaxing a little..."
That was a normal Sunday, too normal. Jurou thought a kid of Takuma's age would like to go out and play.
"... Tomorrow, I will wake up at five, take a dump, get the clothes down from the wire, " Takuma said, making Jurou hold back a frown— was he wasting time by going into such detail, she didn't need to know when he got his clothes down from drying,
"Then I will leave home to go train with Maruboshi-sensei—"
"Maruboshi?" Jurou interrupted. That was the first time Takuma had mentioned a person. He hadn't even mentioned his academy teacher, the primary adult figure in his life. 'And did he say sensei?' "Who is this Maruboshi-sensei?"
Takuma suddenly stopped twirling the dangerous knife. He looked at her and stayed silent for a good moment as all sound died down in the house. She didn't speak, didn't even urge him to continue.
"... A shinobi," he said simply and only that.
"And why does this Maruboshi-sensei train with you?" she asked.
Takuma shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know; he just does."
"You never asked?"
"Why would I? A shinobi offered to train me, and I accepted. He's a shinobi, after all," Takuma finished with a glimmer of idealism in his eyes.
There was nothing about someone known as Maruboshi in Takuma's file. An unknown shinobi interacting with an academy orphan; she needed to report that. That unknown shinobi could very well be an enemy spy trying to recruit a naive orphan into becoming a mole. Why else would a shinobi help an orphan like Takuma who had nothing to offer. According to Takuma's file, his parents were supposed to be traveling merchants who did business across the Land of Fire, and had died in an accident during the Kyuubi incident. An unfortunate time for them into the Leaf village.
"What does he look like?" she asked.
"Hmm? He's tall, strong, knows a lot, is kind, and really-really cool," Takuma said with a smile. "Do you know he can throw ten shurikens, all at once, at the dead center of the target? How cool is that?!"
That description. Jurou frowned. That described every adult shinobi from the eyes of an idolizing ten-year-old. That didn't narrow it down even a little.
"Do you have his full name?" she asked.
"... No?" Takuma said, his voice like a mosquito.
'Idiot,' she sighed and thought, 'that man probably gave him a false name.'
Jurou closed her diary and smiled, "Thank you, Takuma. That'll be all. You're living well, and I see no problems here. I hope you'll continue working hard and make the village proud by becoming a splendid shinobi."
As Jurou exited the small apartment complex, she looked up and saw Takuma standing in the corridor in front of his front door. He turned and walked back into his house just as she looked at him.
'Was he frowning?' she thought for a fleeting moment before walking away, thinking it was just her vision.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link below.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
