The bell above the door of the Konoha Ninja Tool Shop chimed—a sharp, clear sound that cut through the crisp afternoon air.
Tenten stepped inside, inhaling deeply. The shop didn't smell like the rest of the village. It didn't smell of ramen or dust. It smelled of clove oil, cold iron, and sawdust. To Tenten, it was the finest perfume in the Fire Country.
A sharpening wheel hissed in the back room—shhh-shhh-shhh—a rhythmic, abrasive lullaby of maintenance.
"Welcome! Oh, it's the connoisseur!"
Kana, the shopkeeper's daughter and acting manager, popped up from behind a display of caltrops. She was a girl with a smile bright enough to sell a jagged kunai to a pacifist.
"Hey, Kana-san," Tenten greeted, walking past the rows of standard-issue shuriken.
She didn't stop at the kunai bins. She had plenty of those—some she had bought, some she had scavenged, and a few she had begun to attempt to forge herself (with mixed results).
She headed to the back, where the specialty items were kept.
"I need wire," Tenten said, running her hand over a spool. "High-tensile. And explosive tags. The ones from the Land of Iron import, not the standard Academy issue. I need them to burn hot."
Kana leaned her elbows on the counter, resting her chin in her hands. She looked less like an arms dealer and more like a florist discussing a bouquet.
"Going somewhere cold?" Kana teased, her eyes sparkling. "We just got a shipment of tags with a wax coating. Waterproof. Perfect for snow. Only fifty ryo extra per bundle."
"You're trying to upsell me," Tenten smiled wryly.
"I'm trying to ensure your explosions are vibrant and aesthetically pleasing," Kana countered smoothly. "And functional. Mostly functional."
Kana leaned closer, and Tenten caught the scent of gun powder and cheap floral shampoo—a dissonance that perfectly matched the girl herself.
Behind the counter, a younger girl with glasses—Sen-Sen—was silently polishing a massive cleaver sword with a rag. She looked up, saw Tenten, blushed, and immediately went back to polishing the steel with frantic intensity.
The cloth squeaked against the metal—skree-skree—betraying the girl's nervousness.
"I'll take three bundles," Tenten decided. "And a sharpening stone. 8000 grit."
Kana began to box the items with practiced efficiency, wrapping the lethal explosives in pretty pink paper.
"You know," Kana said, sliding the box across the glass. "Dad was looking at that prototype kunai you left last week. The balanced one?"
Tenten stiffened slightly. "Yeah? It was... a little heavy on the handle."
"He liked it," Kana grinned. "Said the metallurgy was amateur, but the balance was 'inspired.' Keep it up, Tenten. Maybe in a few years, we'll be buying from you instead of the other way around."
Tenten felt a flush of pride warm her chest, hotter than any fire tag.
"Maybe," Tenten said, picking up the box. "Put it on the team tab?"
"Always," Kana waved. "Don't die out there! We need repeat customers!"
Tenten walked out into the sunshine, the box tucked under her arm. The weight of it felt good. It felt like preparation.
"Here."
Anko-senseishoved a small, hard case into my chest.
We were standing on the main street, just outside a dango shop. The afternoon sun was bright, reflecting off the white walls of the buildings with a glare that made me squint. Naruto was standing next to me, balancing on a curb, looking at the clouds.
A cicada buzzed loudly from a nearby tree—zeeeeeee—a harsh, vibrating sound that seemed to intensify the heat.
"What's this?" I asked, opening the case.
Inside sat a pair of glasses.
They weren't my old ones. The frames were thicker, a dark, matte acetate that looked durable. The lenses were dark—almost black—with a mirrored finish that shimmered purple in the light.
They felt cool to the touch, the acetate smooth and heavy like polished stone.
"Disguise," Anko said, popping a stick of dango into her mouth. "And protection. They don't have a prescription, since your new eyes work fine. But the lenses are polarized. Heavily."
I took them out. They felt solid. Expensive.
"Polarized?"
"We're going to the Land of Snow," Anko explained, chewing. "Sunlight reflecting off ice causes snow blindness. It can burn your retinas out in an hour if you aren't careful. These will filter the glare."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear.
"And they hide the Dōjutsu. When you channel chakra to the eyes, the Byakugan veins bulge. The frames are wide enough to cover the temples. The tint hides the iris change. Don't take them off unless you want to advertise your new bloodline to every missing-nin in the north."
I put them on.
The world instantly shifted. The harsh glare of the sun vanished, replaced by a cool, high-contrast clarity. I looked at Naruto. He looked sharper, the orange of his jacket muted to a tolerable rust color.
The edges of my vision darkened, creating a vignette effect that focused my attention like a camera lens.
I looked at a window reflection.
I didn't look like Sylvie the Civilian anymore. With the dark shades and the tactical vest, I looked... legitimate. I looked like a specialist.
"Woah!" Naruto jumped off the curb, leaning into my face. "Sylvie! Those look cool! You look like... like a secret agent! Or Shino's cousin!"
"Thanks, Naruto," I said, pushing the frames up the bridge of my nose. They fit perfectly. "I feel like an agent."
"Alright, fashion show over," Anko announced, tossing her dango stick into a nearby bin with perfect aim. "I have to go check in with the Old Lady—Tsunade—to get the final mission scroll and the travel papers."
She stretched, her back popping audibly.
Crack-pop.
It sounded like dry twigs snapping, echoing in the quiet street.
"You two kill time. Say goodbye to your friends. Pack your bags. Meet at the main gate at dawn. And Naruto..."
Anko pointed a finger at him.
"Pack warm. If I have to listen to you chatter your teeth for three days, I will bury you in a drift."
"I have a coat!" Naruto protested. "It's awesome!"
"Sure it is," Anko smirked.
She turned and body-flickered away, leaving a swirl of leaves and the faint scent of sugar syrup.
The leaves settled slowly, scratching against the pavement—scritch-scratch—as the wind died down.
I looked at Naruto through my new, dark world.
"So," I said. "We have the afternoon. Who do you want to bother?"
Naruto grinned. "Bushy Brows of course!"