Chapitre 167: CH_5.24 (167)
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———
.
The sound of a walking cane was something Takuma hoped never became a permanent part of his life. He looked at the cane in his hand and sighed. He was fit enough to fight, but his leg was still weak—Takuma could no longer feel any difference and hadn't once leaned on the cane, but Dr. Oichi had ordered him to carry it in case he needed it.
The past month had been the most difficult for Takuma. As a shinobi, he was very particular about his body. Not being able to move in the way he wanted was more restricting than anything else Takuma had ever experienced.
The experience also made Takuma realize how much he had changed from his former self.
In his previous life, he wasn't physically active other than commuting and whatever sports his friends played in the evenings. He didn't ever join a gym in college, nor did he seriously pursue a sport in school. But these days, he felt restless if he didn't do enough training every day—and it wasn't just because of remaining at his peak physical condition—he enjoyed the feeling of slowly improving his physical capabilities. It had become a part of his life.
He never took charge of group projects or tried to have a 'leadership' position in the school or college; he never even joined a club or community. He didn't feel comfortable being in charge, juggling people's opinions, or being a moderator who could keep the group focused towards achieving a common goal. But after working in the Narcotics Taskforce, he didn't think of leading as something bothersome—he enjoyed the feeling when a team worked in unity. And the Narcotics Taskforce was his baby, he was personally invested that it would produce the best results possible.
He was a better man than before. Someone his parents would be proud of—alas, they would never witness this improvement.
Takuma stopped in front of a building and looked at the plainly designed building, which had the highest levels of security in the Hidden Leaf. He was going to war, which meant he wouldn't be in the village for who knows how long.
It was time to invest in some new jutsu.
———
.
It was late in the evening, and Takuma was at home. He had a little more than a week before he had left the village, and he needed to take care of stuff at home before leaving. He had to pack all of his stuff and store it in a storage unit. Because he was leaving for at least several months, he decided not to keep renting his apartment while he was away. The landlord didn't make any fuss about it—his value as a tenant had dropped like a brick after the assassination attempt. His security deposit too had evaporated.
There was a lot of work to do in very little time. He was glad that he didn't have to go to work.
The bell rang as Takuma was packing up his furniture, wondering if he should sell the bigger stuff. He walked to the door and looked through the spyhole to see Ai standing in front of the apartment.
"Now, this is a pleasant surprise," Takuma smiled as he opened the door.
Ai was about to say something but stopped as her eyes went to the kunai in Takuma's hand.
She sighed.
Takuma shrugged and invited her inside.
"Packing already, huh," Ai said upon seeing the cardboard boxes.
"My house used to be barren when I was in the academy. I don't know when I bought so many things," said Takuma. Only after he started to think about packing did he realize how much stuff he owned. "So, what do you want to drink—hot or cold?"
"Just water will do," said Ai. "I'm not staying. I just came to drop your things."
"My stuff?" Takuma said as he walked out of the kitchen, only to stop when he saw his clothes on the day of the assassination attempt. "… I thought the hospital got rid of them." Ai had returned his wallet with his essential identification cards, but he thought the other stuff was disposed of.
"The hospital staff asked me to return it to you. They forgot they had it stored somewhere," said Ai.
"Thank you," Takuma picked up the transparent package with his belongings. It was heavy because of the chainmail undershirt.
"What are you going to do with them?" Ai asked.
"I… don't know," he said.
When Ai left, Takuma stopped packing and sat before the package. After staring at it for a while, he opened the package and took the clothes in his hands. They were in tatters, and the blood had turned into dried stains. The chainmail undershirt was damaged as well.
"I had that one for a while, too," Takuma murmured.
He put them aside and reached for his weapons pouch. Because he was going to war, he had replaced his entire gear with the highest quality one he could afford. But his old weapons pouches were with him for a very long time, and because he knew how to sew and work with leather, he had customized them to his preferences. The new ones didn't have those modifications yet.
Takuma emptied a pouch and turned it inside out to look at his old stitching—they were the work of a novice—he could do it so much better now. The thought brought a smile to his face. Takuma reached for the next pouch only to pause as he stared at it in his hands.
The pouch wasn't his…
Then it struck him.
"This is No#4's!" he gasped and immediately started to look through. There were some ground spikes, a couple remaining shuriken, and a small dagger. Takuma pushed everything aside and observed the pouch and everything in it for a clue—and he found a couple of things that attracted his attention.
First was the small dagger. The dagger was pitch-black from the tip to butt except for the sharpened edges. It wasn't a standard issue shinobi dagger; it had a unique design. He checked but couldn't find a blacksmith's touchmark. The second point of interest was the pouch itself. The flap on the pouch had a snap button on it, but the stitching used to fix the button was needlessly complex. There was a star pattern around the button, which was clearly the maker's mark.
"I need to turn this in."
But as Takuma finished the sentence, his thoughts changed. It had been more than a month since the Police Force had lost the assassins' bodies, and they hadn't made any progress since then. The anger and irritation from the lack of progress had ruined his mood every time he thought about it—which was every day.
Takuma stared down at the pouch and the dagger.
He knew what he was going to do tomorrow.
———
.
The first thing the next day, Takuma entered a dinky little shop far away from the main street. The location was terrible for a business, but Takuma was a regular customer.
"Boss!" Takuma yelled the moment he entered.
"Yeah, wait up!"
Takuma rested his cane against the counter and waited for a couple of minutes before a man dripping with sweat came out from the backroom. He had dark tan skin and short hair with gray streaks on the side.
"Oh, Takuma! Another order so soon?" said the man as he wiped his forehead with a towel.
The "Boss" was a weaponsmith Takuma used for his weapons needs because of the lower prices than any other shop in the city. One would think that because of the price advantage, the shop would be near the main street, but the reason behind the low prices was that the Boss didn't have a weaponsmith license and didn't pay sales tax to the government, which brought the prices down. Takuma was introduced to the Boss and his shop during his early days in the Ring, and he had been a repeat customer ever since. He had even placed an order recently to replace all the gear he thought had been disposed of.
"Not today, Boss. I was wondering if you could help me with something else today," Takuma put down the dagger and weapons pouch on the counter. "Can you tell me who made these?"
The Boss put on his glasses and picked up the dagger. He studied the dagger from top to bottom for a while. He even tested the knife by throwing it on a random wooden board on his walls, which scared the crap out of Takuma.
"It's expertly made. Masterful craftsmanship. Whoever made these have decades of experience."
"Really? I didn't notice anything special," said Takuma.
The Boss chuckled. "That's the point, isn't it? A weapon that feels nothing but right in the hand so the shinobi can focus on the enemy ahead." He placed the dagger down. "I can't tell right now, but if you give me some time, I might be able to tell you. If this was made in the Hidden Leaf, I might be able to find out, but if it's from outside the village, don't expect I will be able to get anything."
Takuma was fine with that; as long as he got anything, that would be a new lead he could follow. The Boss took the weapons pouch as well.
"Just… be careful, okay?" said Takuma. "Those belong to one of the assassins."
"Oh my," Boss looked at Takuma in surprise before laughing. "Don't worry, boy. I will be careful."
Takuma nodded.
———
.
Takuma visited the Boss again a couple of days later.
"Couldn't find who makes these, boy."
Takuma sighed. He knew it was a long shot. "Thank you for looking," he said.
"But I did find something," Boss put the dagger on the table. The hilt was removed from the blade, revealing the tang. "See this?" he pointed at the tang. Stamped into the metal was the shape of a tree, roots and all. "This is the smith's touchmark. If you find the smith who uses this touchmark, you might be able to find who bought this dagger."
"This is good… this is really good, Boss," Takuma smiled.
"Really? I mean, a lot of smiths use some version of leaf and tree as their touchmark in the Hidden Leaf. You might not be able to find the one who uses this one."
"That's the thing. 'Some version of leaf and tree as their touchmark in the Hidden Leaf,' which there's a great possibility that whoever made it is in the Hidden Leaf. That cuts down the search radius drastically," said Takuma.
Boss smiled. "The Police Force has ruined you, boy. I won't go out looking for this, but if I come across this touchmark, I will tell you."
"That's more than what I can ask you, Boss," Takuma nodded.
He felt great. This was a lead. A promising one at that. If he could find the weaponsmith, that could lead him to who ordered the hit.
But there was a problem. Takuma frowned. He had less than a week before he had to leave for the war and a lot of stuff to take care of; he simply didn't have the time to investigate.
He needed help.
Takuma sighed. It was time to turn to the 'proper authorities'.
.
———
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The link is in the synopsis!
Chapitre 168: CH_5.25 (168)
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The link is also in the synopsis
———
.
Takuma observed the people on the road from the rooftop café, sipping on a large glass of cold lemonade. There were only four more days before he had to leave the village for the journey to the Land of Hot Waters. He had made it his mission to enjoy the delicacies of his hometown before he was shipped off to war for who knew how long.
He had done his packing, and two days before his deployment, all of his belongings sans the stuff he had sold off would be shipped off to a storage unit, and he would surrender the keys to his apartment to the landlord before moving into Masaaki, Nenro, and Ai's shared house as a guest. In the next few days, he had planned to meet a number of people before he left.
His visit to the café was for that very reason. He was meeting someone.
Takuma felt someone looking at him. He looked to the side to see the waiter pointing him out to Kano. He raised his hand, and Kano walked right over.
"The cold drinks here are good. You should try some," Takuma said as Kano sat down.
"You should've come to the office," said Kano.
"Should I order you something?" Takuma looked at her before sighing. "I don't have enough self-control to walk into that building and contain my anger. I prefer doing it here where I don't feel the urge to bash some faces in."
Kano was wearing her red shades so Takuma couldn't study her eyes, but he had known her long enough to understand that she wouldn't be offended by his words, which were obviously aimed at her clan members. But he also knew that she wasn't going to apologize for the clan and office politics, which had led to him being removed from his station.
"Did you bring my rewards?" asked Takuma.
Kano nodded and placed a storage scroll on the table. Takuma opened it and weaved hand seals.
"They are real," Kano sighed.
Takuma ignored her and released the fuin-seal for multiple scarlet scrolls to appear on the table. The puff of smoke startled the civilians on other tables; Takuma ignored them and opened every scroll to check the contents.
"It does seem that way," Takuma muttered as he continued to check.
The Police Force was in a delicate position after the assassination attempt. One of their officers was attacked at his home, and then they had lost the assassins' bodies. On top of that, they had managed to anger Takuma by booting him from his team. They were concerned by their recruitment program, which was still in its infancy, if Takuma, who was in the first recruitment batch and was by far the most successful, decided to badmouth the Police Force. They needed top talent in the Police Force to maintain the legacy, and Takuma's words could have a snowball effect. They were scared that if shinobi started to think the Police Force didn't care if one of their outside recruits almost got assassinated and had even demoted him.
So, after Takuma decided to accept his conscription, the Police Force extended a reward for his excellent service. Takuma understood the situation and recognized the hush money for keeping his mouth shut. Takuma wanted to badmouth the Police Force from the rooftops to placate some of his anger, but after giving it a rational thought, he decided to take the reward.
He asked for jutsu scrolls.
Scrolls of C-rank jutsu and above couldn't be taken out of the jutsu archives, and if a shinobi wished to study a jutsu they had purchased, they had to go to the archives to look at the scrolls. The scrolls had intensive information written on them with dozens of references to research papers, and because no stationary was allowed inside, copying the scrolls from memory was a chore. There was a niche black market for jutsu scrolls, but the discounted price wasn't enough for the risk. Both the Police Force and ANBU had a no-tolerance policy for the illegal trade of jutsu scrolls with extremely high punishments.
Takuma's ask was simple. He wanted C-rank jutsu scrolls he could own. It wasn't an impossible ask; bigger shinobi clans had their own jutsu archives and were known to distribute scrolls to their members. He was going to a conflict-filled foreign land and thus was losing his ability to visit a jutsu archive; he wanted personal scrolls he could study at his leisure.
Takuma understood that even though the reward was from the Police Force, he was actually dealing with the Uchiha clan. And there were not many things the Uchiha couldn't do in the Hidden Leaf.
As he had expected, they agreed. At first, Takuma had wanted them to foot the bill of the jutsu he wanted, but they had outright refused with no room for negotiation when they heard how many jutsu Takuma wanted. Takuma—very unwillingly—had come down to buying the scroll at a small discount from the Uchiha clan.
The sale of jutsu scrolls of C-rank jutsu and above was banned. Even the clans couldn't do it; they were only allowed to distribute scrolls to their members. So, the deal was highly illegal. But that was what made it binding. If Takuma broke his side of the agreement, the Uchiha clan would screw him by sticking charges against him. And even though they had sold the scrolls to him, they were the Uchiha clan, they were the Police Force—they were big enough to get out of it with a slap on the wrist, something Takuma couldn't do.
"Everything checks out," Takuma smiled as he put the scrolls away. "Now, onto why I specially asked for you to deliver the scrolls."
"I was curious about that as well," said Kano.
Takuma took out No#4's weapon pouch. It had everything, including the small dagger inside.
"This is the fourth assassin's weapons pouch, the one you guys didn't know existed until I told you about it," said Takuma. Kano stared at the pouch in surprise. "I didn't have enough weapons that day, so I pulled it off his body after I killed him."
"Why didn't you give this to us before!?"
"Because it was with the hospital until now." Takuma sighed, "And my memories of the fight have gaps in it… I didn't remember that I had taken it until I saw it."
He was too injured that day and even kicked in the head. Takuma remembered the fight, but some particulars escaped him. It was frustrating, but Dr. Oichi said that his memories would return eventually, but if he wanted something fast, a Yamanaka could help—Takuma had no intention of opening his mind to a Yamanaka.
"Take out the black dagger from inside," said Takuma.
"It's broken?" Kano asked as she held the separated blade and hilt.
"I removed the hilt. There is a smith's touchmark on the tang."
Kano looked. "We can track it. This is a great lead—" She stopped and looked up at Takuma. "You had no intention of giving this to us if you weren't going to the war, did you?"
Takuma shrugged. "You guys lost the bodies. I looked around but couldn't find a weaponsmith with that touchmark. But the tree motif indicates that the smith might be in the village. The special stitching on the pouch flap is also an avenue you should pursue."
"Anything else?" asked Kano.
"You can't expect me to do all the work."
Kano put the pouch away.
"I heard you refused to be there when Yakumi officially took charge of the Narcotics Taskforce. You know Yakumi is just doing his job," she said.
"My job," said Takuma, sternly.
"Don't you think the rest of the team would've felt better if you were there for a smooth change of command."
Takuma didn't answer that one; not even a quip.
Kano sighed as she stood up. "Be safe out there. Wars like this one can be complex. Follow your commander's orders, and stay out of trouble. Let's have a drink when you return..."
"… Alright," said Takuma.
Kano nodded before leaving.
His gaze followed her until she was gone.
Takuma looked at the lemonade. The ice had already melted away with the condensation heavy outside the glass.
———
.
Sitting on a park bench with his cane sitting on the side as he fed bread to a flock of pigeons made Takuma feel old and slow. It was a strangely uncomfortable feeling, but he already had a loaf from the nearby bakery because he had come to the meeting early and had nothing to do. He was meeting a lot of people, but he didn't especially want to do this one. Unfortunately, it was an important one.
"Is that cane going to stick?"
Takuma didn't glance at the bench behind him. He could recognize Enomoto's voice everywhere.
"I don't think I can pull off a cane as a fashion statement," said Takuma.
"I must say, I'm disappointed to hear that you are leaving. I doubted our agreement would last long, but then you started to produce results and I started to… dream," said Enomoto.
"That's new," Takuma chuckled. "Well, adding to the confidence, I thought I would continue on for at least a couple more years. Alas, you put your cart behind a horse with a short race life."
"At least, they aren't putting you down after you fractured your foot… Well, you might soon die in the war."
"Really? I mean, someone did try to take me out," Takuma threw the last piece of bread to the birds. "You wouldn't happen to know who was behind that little prank, would you?"
"Why would I try to kill my gold-laying goose—"
"The goose died in the fable."
"Well, I'm not a colossal moron. Because it was you, I looked into it, but whoever it was, they didn't leave any clues behind."
"That they didn't…"
"Well, if you're leaving, that means my commissions from the Ring also stops. God… I will miss the returns on my investment," said Enomoto. "I do have a question though. Did you meet me first or did you make time for Sango before me."
Takuma smiled. "I came to you first. I value our relationship."
"Aww, that's sweet."
"But I like to leave the best for the last."
"There it is."
The conversation died as soon as it had started. Takuma and Enomoto weren't close. They were business partners connected through mutual benefit. Without that, they had no reason to associate with each other.
"Do you perhaps have a recommendation for a possible replacement?" Enomoto asked.
"Well, I can refer my team to you, but I fear that they would invite you to stay permanently."
"Ah, that's too much hospitality for me."
Takuma had no intention to give Enomoto's information to the Narcotics Taskforce. Enomoto was his asset; they would need to work with the informants the team had built since their inception—which wasn't going to be pretty, the Narcotics Taskforce was still new. Right now, Takuma didn't care about how much effort he had put into building up the Narcotics Taskforce—he couldn't care less if Yakumi burnt the thing to the ground.
The feeling would pass, he was sure, but he wasn't mature enough to settle his feelings quickly.
"I figured that. You will either have to be satisfied with your current position or find a new way to trim down your competition," he said.
"Being satisfied doesn't seem satisfying." Enomoto stood up. "Don't go dying in the war. Maybe we can work together when you come back."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Takuma replied.
Enomoto's footsteps stopped. He said, "You never know. In the life we live, you never know what's going to happen."
Takuma stood up as well and for the first time in the conversation, he turned to look at Enomoto.
"Enomoto… If I ever find that you were behind the assassins, I am going to kill you."
Enomoto stopped walking again and turned. He smiled, "I don't think you'll be able to pull that off successfully, genin."
"In this life we live, you never know what's going to happen," said Takuma.
"Truer words haven't been said," Enomoto smiled before walking away.
.
———
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The link is in the synopsis!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
200+ Classement
Power Stone 
109 Power
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