The night was thick as ink, the moon a pale brushstroke painting the shadows onto the windows of Nara Ryōko's home.Outside, hidden in the grass, a certain Nara clanswoman watched the silhouettes cast on the shoji with growing disbelief.
A female shadow straddling a male shadow's lap.Her breath caught.She slapped a hand over her mouth.
So the clan's Shadow Mimicry can be used… like that?Her throat went dry.Stimulating didn't even begin to describe it.
Inside the room, Ryōko stared hard at Tobika.
"By rights, everything about me should be confidential. Name, address—fine. But how do you know every little detail about my life?"
"Someone sold you out."
Bang.Ryōko slammed the table, crossed the distance in a flash, and grabbed Tobika by the collar.
"Who?!"
Tobika leaned back, unfazed."Ohta."
Ryōko clicked her tongue.She'd suspected, but hearing it confirmed still stung.That idiot—if he'd sell out a comrade's info here, would he sell them out on a battlefield too?
Tobika shrugged.
"You don't need to be so mad. You sell his info to me and you two are even."
"Don't even think about it."
Unbothered, Tobika took out a scroll and spun it between his fingers.
"You joined that organization because you wanted a cure for your son. Bring him home from the hospital. I can treat his condition."
"…Truly?"
For a heartbeat, Ryōko forgot to breathe.Her two-year-old boy had been bedridden for over a year with an untreatable illness. She only came home tonight because her swollen cheek from Tobika's earlier beating couldn't be shown in the hospital.
Her voice trembled."You can really heal him?"
"More or less. If you drag Tsunade over, she'd cure him too."
"What do you want from me?"
"Simple. You pass along information.My dream is to know when your boss changes his underwear."
"That's impossible! We have binding seals. We can't reveal anything about—"
"It's a metaphor.I don't need details about your leader or Root's internal structure. Whenever you get a mission involving the Uchiha, just tell me."
Ryōko narrowed her eyes. Tobika rolled his.
"Relax. I'm not interested in you personally. I won't force you into anything dangerous.And I won't hold your son hostage.I'll cure him first. He'll go to school, graduate, do missions—live a normal kid's life."
Ryōko went silent.
She expected coercion, threats, or worse. But Tobika wasn't restricting her at all. If anything, he was helping her.
"…Why?"
Tobika sighed and sipped his tea.
"We've lived in the same village for fifty-one years. Helping each other when there's no conflict of interest should be normal.Even Tsunade, for all her foul mouth, saved plenty of Uchiha in her time.Compassion is part of being a medic."
Ryōko's expression softened—until Tobika continued, deadpan.
"The real reason is: someday, when everything goes to hell, I want you to remember this favor and relay intel that matters to the future of the Uchiha."
Ryōko stared at him.
Was that sincerity? Manipulation? Both?
It didn't matter.If her son could be healed, Tobika would have no leverage afterward. If he made unreasonable demands, she could simply quit being a shinobi.
Meanwhile, outside in the grass, the Nara woman had lost her mind.
She watched the shadows again.
Ryōko's shadow had grabbed the male shadow's collar, pulled him close… and their silhouettes pressed together.Very closely.
The watching woman covered her face.
"Oh… she must be grieving her husband too deeply…She recreated him with shadows… and she's… hugging him.On purpose."
She turned to leave—then froze.
The male shadow was making expressions.Real, complex expressions.
Her jaw dropped.
"Ryōko… you're really that desperate for 'marital bliss'…?You even created… that part?!"
She experimentally squeezed the air.
Nothing.No sensation.
"Ryōko… you're sick. Deeply sick."
Morning came.
The Nara woman from last night dragged herself out of the house with massive dark circles under her eyes.
"Midor… what are you muttering about?"
"Elder sister… morning."
"You look terrible. What happened?"
Midor took her sister aside and whispered every detail of last night's "shocking discovery."
Her sister fell silent.Then, experimentally, she squeezed at empty air as well.
Nothing.
She straightened up and mumbled, "You'll understand when you get a boyfriend," and fled.
She needed to find her well-informed best friend.Someone had to know what this meant.
By noon, Ryōko finally stepped outside, stretching and breathing in the clear air.It was the best sleep she'd had in over a year—her son's illness finally had hope.
"Good afternoon, Lady Yoshino."
The Nara clan head's wife blinked at Ryōko's rejuvenated complexion, her relaxed smile, her warm demeanor.
No dark circles.No bitterness.No widow's chill.
The rumor spreading through the clan…Could it be true?
Had her widowhood ended after only one year?