The bells stayed still.
Roen's fingers loosened around the cord without fully letting it drop, the metal cool now, no vibration left in it. Across from him, Genryu's blade finally gave way, the pressure along the edge thinning until the air settled back into something normal. The clearing held that shift leaves barely moving, dirt disturbed where their steps had torn through it, three lines of breathing still not matching. Itachi stood off to the side, sharingan still active, gaze steady but no longer pushing forward. No one stepped in again.
Genryu's eyes moved between them once.
"Good."
It came flat, the same as everything else.
"You got it off me."
Roen didn't answer. His grip shifted instead, thumb brushing the snapped cord.
Genryu watched that a moment, then his gaze sharpened slightly.
"Slow."
A beat.
"Both of you."
Roen's hand stilled.
Genryu lowered the kodachi a fraction, not enough to call it rest.
"You spent too long getting in each other's way," he said. "When you stopped"
His eyes flicked between them again.
"you took it."
The clearing stayed quiet.
Roen exhaled once through his nose. "That's your version of praise."
Genryu's mouth shifted faintly. "Don't get used to it."
His gaze moved past Roen.
"You followed his timing."
Itachi didn't react.
Genryu tilted his chin slightly toward Roen. "He stopped forcing it."
Then back to Itachi.
"You waited."
A short pause.
"That's why it worked."
Itachi gave a small nod.
Roen rolled the bell once in his hand, then flicked it lightly forward. The cord swung once through the air before Genryu caught it without looking. The second followed from Itachi.
Genryu tied them back at his waist in one motion.
The kodachi turned once in his hand and slid back into place. The last trace of wind and lightning left with it.
The clearing dropped another level.
Roen adjusted the band on his arm, pulling the knot tighter where it had shifted during the exchange. The fabric dragged once against his skin, then settled. His shoulders rolled back, tension leaving in pieces instead of all at once.
He glanced between them.
"…you two eat yet?"
Itachi's eyes shifted to him, just for a second.
Genryu didn't respond.
Roen took a step toward the edge of the clearing anyway, already moving.
"Come on."
He didn't wait to see if they followed.
The path out of the trees narrowed before it opened, dirt flattening into worn ground as the village came back into view. Voices carried faintly ahead, uneven, layered over each other. Roen stepped through it without slowing, turning once at the bend without needing to check behind him.
Footsteps followed.
Steam rolled up from the counter in loose waves, drifting into the open air before thinning out above the doorway. The place wasn't crowded, just a few bodies spaced along the stools, bowls set in front of them, chopsticks moving without much conversation. A pan shifted behind the counter with a dull scrape. Broth hit the surface with a quiet hiss.
Ichiraku Ramen
Genryu took the end seat.
Roen dropped into the space beside him. Itachi sat on the other side, posture straight, hands settling once on the counter before going still.
Three bowls went down.
The steam rose between them.
Roen picked up the chopsticks first, testing the weight once before breaking them clean. The wood clicked softly as he set them into place.
"You adjusted fast," he said, not looking up.
Itachi's hand moved, lifting the chopsticks without answering straight away.
"It was there," he said.
Roen nodded once, then glanced sideways.
"Didn't feel like it at the start."
Genryu didn't look at either of them.
"You forced it."
The bowl in front of him shifted slightly as he pulled it closer. He didn't touch the chopsticks yet.
Roen smirked faintly at that, just at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah."
The broth steamed between them, heat pressing lightly against his face. He leaned forward a fraction and took the first bite, quick, more to settle the motion than anything else.
Itachi ate slower.
His gaze dropped to the bowl, but it didn't stay there long. It moved once to Roen's hands, then to Genryu's, then back again.
Roen caught that.
Didn't call it out.
"Next time," Roen said, tapping the edge of the bowl lightly with the chopsticks, "we take them faster."
Genryu finally picked his up.
"Next time," he said, "you won't get three hours."
Roen let out a short breath that almost passed for a laugh.
"Didn't think we would."
A pause settled in after that.
Someone at the far end of the counter stood, coins hitting wood once before they left. The door shifted open and closed. The noise from outside bled in for a second, then cut off again.
Itachi spoke without looking up.
"…missions?"
Genryu's chopsticks paused just above the bowl.
"Soon."
Roen's hand slowed slightly at that, then continued.
No one added to it.
The steam kept rising.
The light in the Hokage's office sat lower than the clearing had, angled through the window and catching the edge of the desk where the orb hovered just above the surface. The image within it thinned, then dissolved, the last trace of the clearing fading out into nothing.
Sarutobi didn't move immediately.
His fingers rested against the pipe without lifting it, gaze fixed on the empty space where the image had been.
"Early," he said, more to himself than anything else.
The room didn't answer.
He leaned back slightly, chair creaking once under the shift, eyes narrowing a fraction as the thought settled into something more concrete.
"Too early… or right on time."
The pipe lifted, paused, then lowered again without being lit.
Across the village, in a room that didn't hold light the same way, a man stood with his back to the entrance, hands resting behind him.
A root operative knelt in front of him, head lowered.
"…the report is confirmed."
Silence stretched for a moment.
Then
"And the Uchiha?"
"Present."
Another pause.
Danzo's head turned slightly, just enough for the bandaged side to catch the dim light.
"…still alive."
The words came out flat. Not a question.
The operative didn't answer.
Danzo's gaze settled forward again.
"Keep watching."
A beat.
"…Roen."
The name sat in the space between them.
"Do nothing."
Another pause.
"Until I say."
The room stilled around.
Far across the village, three bowls emptied under rising steam, the noise of the street pressing faintly against the walls as something unseen shifted into place.