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But every time at 8:00 PM the night before Shinji left the village for a mission, he would come to find her once.
He didn't bring anything.
He would just stand at her door and ask, "How have you been lately?"
She would reply, "I'm fine."
He would then nod and turn to leave.
It was that simple.
It was so simple that she sometimes wondered if he was just passing by, but one doesn't just happen to pass by for a whole year.
Mei Terumī didn't know the reason at first.
She only knew that every night at 8:00 PM—ever since that night he stepped out of the mist—she would wait.
Waiting for someone to knock on that worn-out wooden door. Waiting for that voice to sound. Waiting for that "How have you been lately?"
Then she could reply, "I'm fine."
As if nothing had ever happened.
Tomorrow was the day the mission would begin.
She might not come back.
Kannabi Bridge. Minato Namikaze's squad. Sacrificial Mission.
When these words were put together, the meaning was clear.
Leaning against the wall, she looked up at the hazy night sky and let out a soft sigh.
She actually realized later that Shinji was afraid she would die, which was why he came to check on her every time before leaving the village.
She really wanted to see him again; this time, she had to ask.
Why was he so good to her?
Did he like her?
But why was he so cold every time they met?
If he was so cold, why did he still care about her?
Could it be that she had to be the one to confess?
Facing the impending crisis, Mei Terumī closed her eyes, her mind beginning to wander.
On the other side, at this very moment.
Shinji walked to Mei Terumī's door with heavy steps.
An owl was still hooting. One cry after another, hollow and monotonous.
Then.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three times.
Neither light nor heavy.
Three times, exactly three times.
It was the sound of Shinji's knock.
Inside the room, Mei Terumī snapped her eyes open.
Those three knocks fell into her ears like stones cast into stagnant water, shattering a whole night's daze and stray thoughts.
She recognized the rhythm. It was the same every time: unhurried, neither light nor heavy, just three knocks, and then waiting.
She stood up.
Her knee hit the wooden crate beside her with a dull thud, but she didn't care about the pain.
She walked over to the worn-out wooden door, reached out, and pulled it open.
The door hinges let out a faint creak.
Moonlight streamed from behind her, passing through the doorframe and falling onto the person at the door, outlining his silhouette with a thin silver edge.
Black hair. Ordinary features. An ordinary build.
Only those eyes were the same as before, as calm as a deep pool, without a single ripple.
"How have you been lately?"
Shinji stood there with something on his back.
It was long and wrapped in white cloth.
The white cloth shimmered with a faint cold light under the moon, making the object's outline hazy, but that length, that shape...
Mei Terumī knew what it was.
A ninja sword.
The kubikiribōchō.
The one belonging to Kisame Hoshigaki.
She looked at him and said nothing.
He also looked at her and said nothing.
Moonlight flowed through the gap between them like an invisible river.
The owl was still hooting in the distance, one cry after another, hollow and monotonous.
The silence lasted for three seconds.
Then Shinji spoke again. His voice was still just as flat.
"Jūzō has defected. The charge is the assassination of the Mizukage."
Mei Terumī's pupils contracted slightly.
"He wanted to secure something for you, but in the end, he failed."
Shinji paused.
"This mission, I'm going with you."
Moonlight fell on his shoulders and on the white-cloth-wrapped kubikiribōchō.
A corner of the white cloth was caught by the night wind, fluttering slightly to reveal a section of the dark hilt beneath.
Mei Terumī stood inside the doorway, looking at him.
Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something.
She wanted to ask what Kisame Hoshigaki had tried to secure, what the defection was about, why that sword was in his hands—she wanted to ask many things.
But she couldn't get anything out.
Shinji looked into those beautiful eyes and added calmly:
"We will complete your special mission for promotion to Jonin together."
The night wind blew between them.
"This is an Anbu mission."
Mei Terumī heard her own voice; it was a bit dry.
The voice squeezed out of her throat, carrying a raspiness she hadn't even noticed herself.
"Shinji, you're not on the roster. You don't need to get involved."
Shinji didn't respond.
He just stood at the door, the moonlight spreading behind him, casting a long shadow that extended deep into the room.
His eyes appeared deeper and quieter in the moonlight, like two bottomless wells.
Then Shinji said it again.
"I'm going with you. I said I would always protect you."
His tone was flat but serious.
Just like that night five years ago.
Just like when he said, "I will always protect you."
"I... I'm not worth it..."
Mei Terumī looked up into Shinji's eyes.
There was nothing in them. No impulsiveness, no hot-bloodedness, no tragic sense of "I will die for you."
There was only a strange calm. It was so calm that it felt like he was merely stating a fact—a fact that had long been decided and left no room for discussion.
"You..."
She opened her mouth.
She wanted to say he was crazy, that this was an S-rank Sacrificial Mission, and going meant certain death.
She wanted to say he didn't have to do this, that there was no need to accompany her.
She wanted to say—
But she said nothing.
Because those eyes made it impossible for her to speak.
Moreover, their relationship had long since become inextricably intertwined.
How could it be cleared up with a simple sentence saying she owed nothing?
Moonlight flowed through the gap between them, and the hooting of the owl came from the distance, one cry after another, hollow and monotonous.
"You're not going to just leave me waiting at the door, are you?"
A smile appeared on Shinji's face; he was truly afraid that the Mei Terumī of this parallel dimension would die unexpectedly.
"I..."
Mei Terumī didn't want Shinji to get involved in this mess, but she felt her body suddenly step aside uncontrollably.
This subconscious movement was very slight, as if she had only shifted half a step to the side.
But it was that half-step that cleared the doorway and the threshold.
"Come in."
Her voice was still a bit dry, but steadier than before.
Shinji walked inside.
The moonlight shifted angles as he moved, pulling his shadow from Mei Terumī's feet toward the deeper parts of the room.
She watched his back as he entered the dim little room, stepping into the space lit only by moonlight.
The kubikiribōchō, wrapped in white cloth, swayed slightly on his back.
She closed the door.
The hinges let out a faint creak, shutting out the moonlight, the owl's cries, and everything else.
The room went dark.
Only a sliver of moonlight leaking through the window gap fell upon them, casting long shadows that overlapped.
Mei Terumī leaned her back against the door, looking at the figure standing in the center of the room.
Shinji didn't look back.
He just stood there, carrying the sword, waiting for her.
Outside the window, the owl was still hooting.
One cry, then another.
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