With controlled movements, Hitoshi precisely chopped a bit of onion. His training with short weapons had granted him impeccable dexterity with a kitchen knife. He tossed the vegetables into the pot and, without losing rhythm, began slicing thin pieces of salmon to prepare some nigiri. His rice, worthy of being considered first-class, perfectly complemented the freshness of the fish, creating a combination that exploded with flavor on the palate of anyone who tried it.
Once he carefully placed everything in his lunchbox, he set about getting ready. It had been a few weeks since his last conversation with Mikoto. He still smiled when he remembered how she had offered him a crumbling, nearly inedible sushi, saved only by the quality of the raw salmon. There was no doubt that, without that small advantage, the result would have been a disaster.
His relationship with Mikoto could be described in one word: wonderful. Although they couldn't be seen together in public, they found clever ways to meet. They had even tried walking around the village under a Transformation Jutsu. However, their attempt had ended in failure when several shinobi intercepted them, detecting the technique within minutes. Since then, they had dedicated themselves to perfecting it, and while they still wouldn't fool an experienced ninja, no one at the academy would suspect them.
Making sure everything was in order, he placed the lunchbox in his backpack and headed to the academy. As he walked, his thoughts drifted between his training and Mikoto. His sensei had yet to obtain the promised advice on developing his sensory ability, but with the basic guidance he had been given, Hitoshi had made significant progress. He could now activate and deactivate his sensory perception at will. While he wasn't yet able to detect shinobi, he could notice nosy civilians. This ability had proven useful more than once in avoiding curious glances or preventing himself from being followed.
The village was beginning to wake up. Merchants lifted the shutters of their shops, and a light breeze swept through the streets. Hitoshi enjoyed that morning tranquility. As he spotted the academy in the distance, an unconscious smile formed on his face.
Upon reaching the hallways, only a few students were wandering around. The teachers, as usual at that hour, remained in their lounge. Hitoshi paid little attention and walked straight into his classroom. Among the students was a mix of civilians and children from important clans. His gaze quickly slid toward the opposite corner, where Mikoto sat. Her long black hair flowed freely down to the middle of her back. She wore a black shirt with her clan's emblem and short white pants. She didn't spare him a glance. It was as if Hitoshi didn't exist.
Unfazed, he took his seat by the window. The routine was clear. But just a few seconds later, he began hearing subtle tapping on a desk. He couldn't help but smile.
"How did you sleep? Did your master hit you too hard last night?"
That was their secret code. After several discussions, they had decided to create their own language based on taps and pauses. Common Morse code seemed too obvious, so they invented something just for them. It was imperfect but effective.
Without taking his eyes off the window, Hitoshi responded.
"I slept well. A little back pain, but the ointments help. Thanks for the herb recommendation; I couldn't find it in any books. My sensei had a rough meeting and decided to take it out on me. What about you? Did your father train you again yesterday?"
Mikoto's response was almost immediate.
"Clan secrets. The herb is exclusive Uchiha knowledge. My father is getting suspicious. Since the incident with the police, his surveillance and my training have increased." Her pencil stopped moving for a second before continuing. "Did you bring nigiri?"
Hitoshi gave a slight nod. Mikoto smiled.
"I brought sushi. It turned out better this time. I won't give up."
The mere thought made her laugh, and her silent laughter was enough to make Hitoshi smile.
The scene was abruptly interrupted. Inuzuka Goro, as he did every morning, approached with his usual arrogant attitude. This boy, a member of the Inuzuka clan, seemed to have made a habit of pestering Hitoshi. The only pleasant thing about him was his small puppy, which peeked its head out from the collar of his sweatshirt. Despite his owner, the dog was charming.
"Good morning, Inuzuka-san. Do you need something from me?" Hitoshi looked at him with indifference. "I suppose your boys aren't around. Or maybe it's too early to bring them along?"
Goro scoffed, clearly annoyed.
"You've got guts talking to me like that. I'm one of the best at the academy. You, on the other hand, are at the bottom of the list. You should respect someone of my level."
Goro's arrogance was no surprise. Hitoshi understood that, coming from a clan that valued hierarchy and dominance, the boy behaved like an alpha in the making. But he was still unpleasant.
"If you're looking for status, you should talk to Namikaze-san. He's in second place." Hitoshi's smile widened as he noticed Goro's deepening scowl.
The mere mention of Minato Namikaze always irritated him. Minato was a prodigy, both in skill and character. A protector of the weak with a natural talent, he undoubtedly overshadowed Goro.
"You're going to die on your first mission, idiot. You wouldn't even stand a chance against a civilian." Growling, Goro walked away, accompanied by his puppy's barks.
"Idiot…" Hitoshi muttered with disdain.
Once again, the soft tapping on the desk returned. Hitoshi ignored it for a moment, anticipating what would come next. When he heard Mikoto's frustrated sigh, he couldn't help but smile.
After the boring classes, the students left the room, except for two. When they were sure everyone had left, a light puff of smoke exploded in their seats, revealing different identities. Hitoshi and Mikoto briefly looked at each other and nodded, as if this little ritual was part of their routine.
"Why did you stop responding?" Mikoto asked, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.
"Goro ruined my mood. Sometimes he's unbearable. But let's not talk about that—let's get to our spot quickly. I don't want my soup to get cold; I bet you'll like it."
With a mischievous smile, Hitoshi took Mikoto's hand. They ran through the hallways, moving with the agility of future shinobi. For them, the gazes of others didn't exist; the rumors were mere meaningless echoes. They were just two friends, sharing a secret escape within the strict life of the academy.
Upon reaching the door leading to the rooftop, Hitoshi suddenly stopped. With exaggerated movements, he placed a hand on his forehead as if he were a scout scanning the horizon. Then, he dramatically turned his head from side to side, as if he were on a top-secret mission.
"All clear!" he announced solemnly.
Mikoto couldn't help but laugh, covering her mouth to stifle the sound. It was the same routine as always, but somehow, it became funnier each time.
"One day, someone will see you doing this and think you've lost your mind."
"I'd rather they think that than believe I have no sense of humor." With a triumphant smile, Hitoshi swung the door open.
As they stepped onto the rooftop, the morning breeze embraced them. Hitoshi glanced at Mikoto, enjoying that fleeting feeling of freedom. He opened his lunchbox, releasing a delicate steam carrying the warm aroma of soup. The scent of spiced broth and fresh vegetables filled the air.
"Come on, try it."
Mikoto carefully took a spoonful, blowing on it before bringing it to her lips. As soon as the flavor filled her mouth, her eyes lit up.
"It's delicious, Hitoshi-san. You really outdid yourself."
"It took me a few tries, but I finally managed to balance the seasonings." Hitoshi offered her another spoonful, silently enjoying the pride reflected in Mikoto's expression.
With a mischievous look, she pulled out some perfectly shaped sushi rolls from her lunchbox.
"When my mother sees me cooking, she always has a suspicious look on her face. She tries to help, but I don't let her. Of course, that doesn't stop her from giving advice from a distance."
"Wow, what a difference." Hitoshi eyed the rolls, impressed. "These sushi look amazing. Not like those first attempts… those looked like biological weapons."
Mikoto shot him a glare, but her lips trembled as she tried to hold back a smile.
"I already told you that was after training with my father! I was exhausted and had no idea how to cook."
"For a first attempt, they weren't bad," Hitoshi conceded, taking a piece of sushi and tasting it. His expression changed instantly. "But these… These are something else! You've found the perfect balance."
Mikoto's satisfied smile appeared immediately. That moment—so simple and sincere—reminded her what it meant to feel free, even if just for a little while.
"As a reward, you get all the nigiri for yourself." Hitoshi slid a small tray toward her, and Mikoto accepted it with a joyful gleam in her eyes.
Laughter mixed with the gentle breeze that caressed the rooftop. In those moments, they found a refuge. No bloodlines, no expectations. Just them.
When they finished eating, they remained seated together, leaning against the wall, silently gazing at the village stretching out before them. The red-roofed houses and the bustling streets looked so peaceful from up there.
"Have you ever wanted to leave the village?" Mikoto asked, her tone almost timid.
Hitoshi shifted his gaze toward the horizon, as if trying to glimpse that distant dream.
"Yes. The village is beautiful and offers the best quality of life for a shinobi, but… I don't want to live just to fight. Imagine being able to travel, visit other villages, hear people's stories, and discover different realities. Realities not defined by war."
He then felt the soft pressure of Mikoto's head resting on his shoulder.
"I'd like to follow you," she whispered. "To see the world, to leave all this behind, even if just for a while. But my clan's responsibilities tie me to this village. My future is already written."
Hitoshi intertwined his fingers with hers in a warm, firm gesture. "Who says you can't? You just need to plan ahead. Find someone you trust, a second-in-command. And when you have free time, come with me. We'll travel and see all the beauty the world has to offer."
Mikoto looked at him with a mix of amazement and fondness. "That doesn't sound so bad…" A small smile formed on her lips. "My mother always speaks so nostalgically about the Land of Hot Springs. She says the peace there is incomparable."
"And then there's the Fire Capital. The merchants never stop praising that city."
"We'll visit everything. But first…" Mikoto looked at him with determination. "We need to become stronger. With enough power, we'll be able to choose our own destiny."
"Exactly."
The determination in their words seemed to seal a silent pact. A promise.
"Thank you for being my friend, Hitoshi-san."
Hitoshi looked at her, a sincere smile appearing on his lips. "Thank you, Mikoto-chan, for being my friend."
She huffed and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "Show some respect and use proper honorifics. I'm going to be the next leader of the most prestigious clan in the shinobi world."
They both laughed, letting the morning breeze caress their faces as they looked out over the village. In that moment, the world seemed a little less complicated, and the future, a little brighter.