At the Hekai residence, the daily basis going on as usual, just after Mitchuri Irugen left after having a chat with Shino...
Shino stood there, the words from his sensei echoing in his mind—about Haru being a manipulator.
"I see... Manipulator... eh? Tsk! Fool."
---
He walked away through the wooden hallway.
Moments later, Shino reached his home—the Hayate residence. As part of the leader's immediate family, he was the heir of the Hayate Clan.
Just as he was about to step through the gate, a loud voice pierced the calm.
"Shiiiiiiinooooooooo!!"
Shino turned his head sharply toward the sound.
It was Chimaru—sprinting straight at him, kicking up dust with every stride, drawing the eyes of nearby villagers as he bolted down the path.
As he reached the entrance of the Hayate residence, Chimaru came to a skidding stop—dust exploding beneath his feet and clouding the air.
Shino turned to him, his face already twisted with irritation.
"What do you want?! Fool."
Chimaru's face held a rare moment of seriousness, but it didn't last long. He suddenly burst out with excitement, arms spread wide:
"Shinooo! I've received the news… the absolute dream of yours—your very first important mission!"
Shino's face twisted tighter in frustration. "Who… who told you all that?! Tsk—damn it!"
Chimaru climbed the stairs toward him, each step dramatic, his eyes closed and his expression smug with pride.
"Shino, my friend… I know you've never stepped outside the village for a mission. Must be hard—devastating even—for a twisted little soul like yours…"
He stopped right in front of him, eyes snapping open with a bright grin. "BUT DON'T WORRY! I, CHIMARU OMI… WILL BE YOUR GUIDE ON THIS MISSION!" He gave a confident wink.
Shino's eye twitched in rage. "You piece of trash… Who told you all this?!"
With a clueless grin, Chimaru tilted his head. "Indra."
"Eh?" Shino froze. His anger instantly paused.
"Indra told you all that?"
Chimaru nodded repeatedly, like a wind-up doll, his smile goofy but proud.
Shino looked up at the sky, his expression shifting to something more grounded, more serious. "Then this mission… it's serious."
He reached into his sleeve and handed Chimaru a small scroll. "We're leaving by dawn. Here's the list—go and inform the rest. Meet me at the village gate."
Chimaru clenched the scroll with a fiery gleam in his eyes, puffing out his chest with pride. "Ayeeeee!" he shouted, already sprinting off in a cloud of dust.
Shino watched Chimaru disappear into the distance, the weight of responsibility settling deeper on his face. Without a word, he turned and stepped into the Hayate residence.
The estate buzzed with activity—maids scurrying, guards posted at every corridor, noblemen speaking in hushed tones. The atmosphere, though refined, was heavy with the air of importance.
From the far end of the hallway, a man in a green kimono with neatly bonded black hair came rushing toward him.
"Shino-samaaa!" the voice rang, half breathless.
Shino turned slightly, recognizing the voice, his face already twisting in irritation.
As the man approached—Naki Hayate—he immediately bent into a respectful bow. "Shino-sama, where have you been? The Genzo clan has already arrived."
Shino's face contorted further, an obvious sign of displeasure.
Inside the grand chamber, the atmosphere was heavy with tradition and formality. Clan leader Shoto Hayate sat composedly on a floor cushion, his posture regal. Before him, the low lacquered table overflowed with delicacies—seasoned rice, grilled meats, and intricate side dishes fit for a clan gathering.
At his right, his elegant wife HinaHayate sat with grace, while beside her was their daughter—HisaHayate, mother of Shino—poised and quiet, observing every movement with practiced decorum. Around them, a circle of high-ranking Hayate noblemen sat respectfully, their expressions unreadable.
Across from them sat their guests—the Genzoclan. Their side was led by Clan Leader NatsuGenzo, a broad-shouldered man with an imposing gaze. Beside him were two of his wives, dressed in formal kimono, their hands folded in their laps, eyes calmly surveying the Hayate side.
Tension lingered in the air—courteous on the surface, but with an undercurrent of silent rivalry.
The sliding door flung open with a loud shun, echoing through the formal room. Heads turned instantly—Hayate and Genzo alike—as Shino entered, his presence abrupt and unapologetic.
Shoto Hayate chuckled heartily, unfazed by the tension. "Ahh, this is my grandson... Shino," he said with pride, lifting his hand to gesture him forward. "Come, sit."
But Shino's eyes didn't even meet his. Instead, they locked onto a sake bottle on the table. Without a word, he walked straight over, ignoring the stares. He reached for the sake, grabbed two plates—one of grilled meat, another stacked with rice balls—and loaded them onto a wooden tray.
The room fell into silence.
Shino turned his back, clearly ready to walk out the same way he came in.
"Shino!!" Shoto called again, his voice sharp this time.
Without pausing or turning, Shino replied coldly, "I have a mission… sent by the Hekai. My first important mission." And with that, he stepped out, leaving a storm of unspoken words behind him.
He halted at the door, turning his head just slightly—just enough for his voice to cut through the tension like a blade.
"You're not going to stop me, are you?"
A soft voice broke the silence—Hisa Hayate, his mother, smiled gently, her eyes glassy with pride.
"Shino... thank goodness. Congratulations."
But Shino's expression hardened. His tone, cold and cutting, carried the weight of bitter truth.
"Mother... never congratulate me when you're not happy."
He turned fully now, his eyes sweeping across the room, stopping on each face.
"I don't know the scheme you're all plotting... but it's illegal for two clans of the same village to gather like this without the Hekai present."
The air thickened.
"I won't be part of your works... or your doings."
His gaze sharpened—dead serious now.
"And if you can't walk away from this too... then die."
With that, he turned and walked out.
The door shun shut again.
And silence, heavy and choking, was all that remained.
Hisa Hayate lowered her gaze, her expression unreadable—eyes fixed on the polished floor as if the weight of her son's words had pinned them there. No one could tell if it was sorrow… or guilt.
Shoto Hayate clenched his fists, his jaw tightening with quiet fury. His grandson's disrespect cut deeper than a blade.
The Genzo clan sat still, unmoving. Not a whisper, not a breath. Their faces, though composed, bore the weight of unease. No one dared speak—not in the presence of a Hayate bloodline breaking from its own.
Shino adjusted the rope holding his fabric bag and stepped through the main gate, his straw hat casting a shadow over his eyes. His short dagger hung firmly at his side, swaying slightly with every step.
At the gate, the team was already assembled.
Chimaru and Henji were locked in a loud exchange, the two practically nose-to-nose, arms flailing with animated gestures—bags slung over their backs like proud warriors.
Haru leaned against a boulder nearby, his arms crossed and eyes half-closed, expression unreadable. He had no pack, no gear—only silence and certainty.
Hiro stood with Matsamaru just a few feet away, both quiet, their expressions unreadable but alert.
As Shino arrived, Akiro appeared at his side like a ghost—wordless, calm, and ready. They said nothing to each other, but their synchronized steps made it clear—they were both prepared for whatever came next.