"Things aren't going smoothly. Irritable, can't calm down—which makes things even less smooth... I know my state's off, but can't quite adjust... Ah~ feels like falling into a vortex, can't find direction..."
"I'm even considering lowering my standards. Such appeasement thinking is too weak, isn't it? My past self would've laughed loudly, patting his belly."
Fingertip pressed against the ice cream glass, watching condensed droplets slide down, Hii Kōri lounged on the table, eyes unfocused. His tone felt more like soliloquy than conversation.
Sakaki Tatsuma clearly noticed. Chin propped on hand, he quietly listened to Hii Kōri's calm, lazy talk.
Research frustrations, dry climate, dust falling into his glass, recently purchased terrible pens—endless trivial matters. As if Hii Kōri was dissatisfied with everything around him.
"Speaking of which, Tatsuma—your parents also died on missions, right?"
Suddenly, Hii Kōri looked up at Sakaki.
"Seems so? I don't really remember."
Though abrupt questioning might sting, such things were everywhere in this era. Plus Hii Kōri's "also" was quite clear.
Sakaki, precocious from life's pressures, naturally wouldn't get angry.
"Ever thought about avenging them?"
"Of course. Never really knew them, but neighbors said they were good people. If they hadn't died, our family would've been happy, I think."
Sakaki clicked his tongue, turning to the window, with a sigh on his face. "That's why I enrolled in the Academy."
Made sense.
As an orphan of a ninja who died for the village, Sakaki received monthly subsidies.
Enough for basic necessities—food, clothing. But for other expenses? Insufficient. Buying a single kunai for defense? Fine. Enrolling in the Academy? One kunai wasn't nearly enough.
Ninja tools were consumables.
Given Sakaki's meticulous nature, he wouldn't enroll without commitment.
"Now? I don't think about it anymore."
Looking back from the window, Sakaki smiled awkwardly. "Compared to you, Kōri-kun... even to ordinary classmates, I lack ninja talent."
"Can't force what you're not good at. Charging into battle with resentment, getting myself killed muddled? Fine. But I might implicate others."
"I've decided: graduate, save up, open a little shop. Live out the rest of my life peacefully. Six years at the Academy weren't wasted—at least I'll be stronger than ordinary people, ahahaha~"
Civilians and war orphans sometimes produce stunning individuals—Pakura was prime example. Sakaki wasn't one.
Yet his laughter held no haze—just consistent clarity.
The brightness and ease of someone who'd reconciled with himself.
"Quite free and easy, Ahaha-kun."
Seeing this, Hii Kōri suddenly realized he'd been in over his head.
Perhaps researcher's stubbornness: knowing the crux and "solution," he always wanted immediate resolution. But unnecessary.
Like the past three years—peacefully enjoying his hard-won second life, doing research he loved... right?
"Free and easy? More like helplessly admitting incompetence. In this shitty era, if you can't yourself, living's hard."
Sakaki rubbed his head, embarrassed.
"But you asking this, Kōri-kun—must be about that too."
"...Yeah. Dad and them found leads on who killed my biological parents."
Hand on chest, Hii Kōri tastes that over and over again Faint, lingering throbbing—once mistaken for Binding Vow effect.
"Knowing I can't do anything now, not even knowing specifically who the enemy is, telling myself to ignore it—yet unable to settle like before."
"I... don't understand."
"...Honestly, Kōri-kun seems pretty contradictory."
Sakaki dropped his usual smile, eyes holding mercy.
Though Hii Kōri was an elite jōnin's genius foster child—worry-free, talented—he inexplicably found this red-haired boy pitiful.
"What?"
"You clearly seem lonely, longing for family, yet always separate yourself from others."
Since receiving Hii Kōri's implicit help, Sakaki often observed his genius junior. But the more he watched, the more he felt Hii Kōri was too cautious.
Not in actions—but in interpersonal communication.
With those two girls, with this irrelevant senior, perhaps even with his foster parents.
As if without a "benefits exchange" excuse, he couldn't frankly accept any goodwill.
"Kōri-kun—you're afraid of losing again, aren't you? As long as you never truly possess, you can't lose again. That's how you think."
"——"
Speechless.
Suddenly, Hii Kōri almost heard his long-parted "own" voice.
The voice of the jujutsu sorcerer—once alone, killed by acquaintances.
The voice of the child—who achieved nothing, failing his parents' desperate protection.
Those two existences, forming current Hii Kōri, overlapping together, whispering.
They said, "We haven't been alone for a long time. So truly embrace them."
"Ha... hahahaha—so that's it?"
I've been this dull, this affected?
Shameful. So shameful—
But... not bad either.
Laughing until tears flowed, nearly choking, Hii Kōri clutched his aching stomach with one hand, the other on the table, muttering.
"Really... have to thank you, Tatsuma."
***
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