The Hyuga main family's test had finally come to an end, and Kei had even managed to launch a psychological counteroffensive against Haru.
The results were decent. While still far from the emotional response he truly sought, it was a step in the right direction.
That night, Kei closed the clinic and prepared to head home. But the moment he stepped into the alley, he sensed Shisui waiting in the distance, watching him.
"You ever hear that pestering someone who doesn't want your company is incredibly rude?" Kei asked, tapping his blind cane along the ground.
Shisui didn't respond directly. Instead, he tossed a paper bag toward Kei, certain that he would catch it.
"I'm about to find the real culprit," he said.
Over the past few days, Shisui had finally followed the trail left by the snake's severed tail and uncovered more clues. The truth was within reach now. And for reasons even he didn't fully understand, he wanted Kei there to witness it, perhaps to prove something, though he wasn't sure what, or to whom.
"Congratulations," Kei replied, tone flat as always.
He caught the paper bag with precision and tucked it casually into his robes. Then he turned and began walking toward another alleyway.
Seeing this, an inexplicable irritation flared in Shisui's chest.
He didn't believe for a second that Kei hadn't understood his subtext. And yet Kei insisted on acting like he hadn't.
"Aren't you even curious who the real culprit is?" Shisui called after him as Kei neared the corner.
"No," came Kei's simple reply.
"What's the matter? Afraid the truth will point to you, so you're planning to slip away early?" Shisui challenged.
Kei stopped, turned, and said coolly, "Do you really think that kind of bait works on someone trained in psychology?"
"This isn't bait," Shisui said. "Until I catch the true culprit, you're still a suspect."
Kei smiled faintly.
"Such clever wording. I remember when we first met, you couldn't be this subtle if your life depended on it."
"If your mind were as sharp as your tongue is now, maybe you wouldn't be so worried about your clan's relationship with the village."
He shook his head with a sigh.
"I've given you so many hints, but you only ever see the surface. You don't trust me. You don't believe a word I say. And yet, you keep coming back. Again and again, only to end up humiliated."
Kei lifted his blind cane and waved it gently in a wide arc.
"If you want something from me, why not just ask directly? Why dance around it like this?"
"Is it your pride that's stopping you? Or is it just that asking a 'criminal' for help is beneath you?"
"But am I really a criminal, Shisui? Don't you already know the answer to that? You're not that blind, are you?"
Kei's dull grey eyes seemed to pierce through the shadows as he added softly, "Why are you still running away? Why are you still afraid?"
Shisui's body trembled slightly. Kei could sense it clearly, even though Shisui tried his best to suppress it.
Once again, his words had peeled back the illusion of maturity Shisui wore, exposing the raw, uncertain vulnerability beneath.
Kei knew exactly why Shisui was really here tonight.
There were only two reasons.
First, Kei's sensory prowess, perfect for tracking and ensuring tonight's mission went off without a hitch.
Second, Shisui was still running. Still afraid. He feared that if he truly found the answer, it might shatter everything he believed in.
In Shisui's mind, Orochimaru didn't fit the image of a villain. After all, he was one of the Legendary Sannin, a war hero who had once been considered a top candidate for the Fourth Hokage. He was also the student of the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. In many ways, Orochimaru was the embodiment of the Will of Fire.
Though his fame had faded in recent years, in the eyes of many villagers and shinobi, Orochimaru remained a hero, perhaps even the most likely candidate for the Fifth Hokage.
By comparison, Kei, a blind, eccentric psychologist, seemed like the far more likely culprit.
Even Kei, when he tried to look at things from Shisui's point of view, had to admit he looked suspicious.
He roamed the alleys at night. He had the strength to overpower ordinary villagers.
He was blind, yes, but what if the trauma had unhinged him? What if he'd turned to human experimentation in a desperate bid to regain his sight?
"You're right," Shisui finally said. "I shouldn't keep running from this."
He drew the short blade from his back.
"I want you to be there. I want you to witness the moment we uncover the truth."
The blade pointed directly at Kei.
A threat, certainly, but Kei remained unmoved.
"You can threaten me all you like," he said calmly. "When you get serious, I can't possibly resist."
"But Shisui… are you sure this is the path you want to take?"
"I need to find the real culprit. And this way, you can prove your innocence too," Shisui replied.
Kei let out a low chuckle.
"How absurd. I've committed no crime, yet I need to prove my innocence."
Shisui's grip on the blade tightened. He could feel the conversation spiraling toward another verbal loss, just like before.
So this time, he lunged forward and growled, "Enough talk. Tonight, you don't get to choose."
"Good. Very good," Kei said as the blade hovered inches from his chest. "Then I sincerely hope you never regret this, because you couldn't bear the weight of that regret."
"I will never regret this!" Shisui snapped, his voice cracking with suppressed emotion.
But even as the words left his mouth, regret was already blooming in his heart.
He didn't know why, but despite being the one holding the blade, he felt like the one cornered, like he was losing control all over again.
"Then remember what you just said," Kei replied.
With a flick of his cane, he knocked the blade aside and immediately unleashed his full sensory range.
Then, without hesitation, he darted toward a side alley.
Shisui followed.
The two of them entered the alley just in time to see a massive white snake unhinging its jaw, devouring a villager several times its size in one horrifying gulp.
The snake slithered into a nearby sewer grate and disappeared underground.
Kei kept pace with its movements, tracking it through the ground with near-perfect precision.
Twisting through several turns and narrow paths, they finally arrived at a shadowy residence. The snake slipped through a crack beneath the door and vanished.
"That's far enough," Kei said, pointing toward the house. "Any closer and they'll notice. And if that happens, the evidence will be destroyed."
Shisui didn't answer.
He simply stared silently at the nameplate hanging over the door.
It had three characters.
But no matter how you rearranged them, those characters could never spell Hyuga Kei.
<150 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter>