Ryo halted and turned toward her.
The shadow of his tall frame almost swallowed her whole.
"The battlefield won't wait."
He raised a hand and, with the lightest brush of a calloused fingertip, wiped away the damp trace at the corner of her eye. The motion was clumsy but focused.
"Remember what I told you."
Kushina nodded hard, reddened eyes fixed on him without blinking. "I'll... I'll check the seal space every day, keep my chakra steady, and I won't embarrass myself. Also..."
She counted rapidly on her fingers, as if grabbing hold of something slipping away. "You promised you'd come back to see me often! Using that... Flying Thunder God!"
"Mm."
Looking at his familiar, hard-edged profile, Kushina felt a tiny sting at the tip of her heart, as if a small bug had taken a bite.
She sniffed sharply, forcing the tears to retreat.
The next second, she rose on tiptoe and leaned toward his ear.
Her warm breath, tinged with the clean, sweet scent of soap, brushed his neck; her red hair tickled his skin.
"Then you have to promise me too, come back alive!" Kushina's voice was low and urgent, words tumbling out as her cheeks flushed as red as a ripe tomato. "I... I'll... I'll reward you when you do!"
Not far away, Tsunade's ears pricked. She snapped her head around, golden brows lifting in dangerous angles; the air around her seemed to crackle.
A storm front of mixed emotions, shameless little brat colliding with that punk better keep his hands off my pretty little Kushina, lowered the pressure around her in an instant.
Kushina darted back, skittish and pleased like a mischievous little fox that had gotten away with something. She dropped her burning face in a hurry.
Ryo's expression, however, remained composed, as if he wasn't the one who had just been given such a bold promise.
"All right! Haven't you finished saying your goodbyes?"
Tsunade's irritable bellow cracked like thunder, drowning out the murmur of muffled cries around them. "Form up! Roll call! One second late and I'll mark you as deserters!"
Her gaze slashed toward Nawaki and Mikoto.
Nawaki jolted, instinctively wanting to keep watching Kushina and Ryo, and to catch the farewell drama with his crush, only to wrench his legs mid-step and dart like a startled hare to Tsunade's spot at the front.
Mikoto withdrew the last complicated glance she had sent toward Ryo, pressed her lips together, straightened her back, and walked quickly and quietly to the assembly point.
As she passed the edge of the crowd, something gaunt and shadowed flickered in her peripheral vision.
Uchiha Shana.
He stood like a specter in a deeper pocket of shade at the street corner. Through a gap in the crowd, those clouded old eyes locked on Mikoto, glittering with a greedy fervor, as if they could see the moment power returned to its throne.
His gaze met hers, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a blade-cold curve, something only Mikoto could notice.
His wrinkle-mapped fingers made the barest, most concealed motion against his chest, a slow, deliberate squeeze.
The meaning was carved in bone. Crush your useless scruples; seize your ladder to the heavens; Uchiha's glory is in your hands.
Then his withered fingers spread like talons and clenched into a heavy fist.
Mikoto's breath hitched.
Her grandfather's silent signals splashed over her like a basin of blood-water filled with ice.
The guilt and betrayal she had only just managed to tamp down erupted again under this naked command.
Reminder? Warning? No, the cruelest goad. Sharp emotions rammed through her chest; her vision swam.
Deep in her eyes, that trace of crimson rose unbidden and began to turn.
She jerked her head away, refusing to look in Shana's direction again.
Her steps stumbled as she squeezed into the front ranks, ending up right behind Nawaki.
Neck craned, he had been nervously trying to sneak peeks at Ryo and Kushina, and her slightly frantic movement bumped his shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance.
"Sorry..." Mikoto murmured, her voice carrying an uncontrollable tremor.
She kept her gaze down, fixed on the cold seams between the stone slabs beneath her feet, as if sheer force of will could pin her in place.
Ryo gave Kushina one last, deep look.
In that look was room for all her confusion, grievance, and reluctance.
He reached out; rough knuckles brushed gently at the dry corner of her eye.
"Wait for me to come back."
Kushina's nose stung; her stubborn courage collapsed all at once. Tears spilled in heavy drops without warning, splashing hot against the back of Ryo's hand.
She nodded hard. Her throat closed so tight she couldn't make a sound. All she could do was clutch his vest with everything she had, like someone clinging to driftwood before the flood of fate swept it away.
At the front, Tsunade watched, and the irritation of the coming campaign tangled with the annoyance of having a team stuffed with headaches by old man Hiruzen, coiling into something more complicated.
She drew a breath and tore open her voice like ripping the sky. It crashed down with iron finality.
"Time's up! Move out!"
The long line of shinobi began to move toward the village gate.
Boots thudded on blue stone, each step landing heavy on the chests of those who stayed to see them off.
Kushina watched as Ryo turned with crisp precision, his back straight and solitary as a spear, and merged with the flowing human tide.
That familiar blaze of red hair shone in the sea of green flak jackets, so vivid yet quickly receding.
"Ryo!"
Kushina couldn't hold it back anymore. The cry tore out of her, ragged and hoarse with tears.
Through her blurred vision, Kushina could only see that solitary silhouette growing smaller and smaller, until it vanished beneath the shadow of the village gate.
Her tears streaked her cheeks and fell silently into the dirt at her feet.
(To be continued.)
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◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)