Others get to go home in the dark to a warm meal, and here I am—Uchiha Hiko—perched on the rooftop of someone else's house, cloaked in darkness.
Gazing at the luminous moon hanging high in the night sky, Hiko cast a glance toward the Hokage's office and smirked silently.
You must be panicking by now.
Whether it was the Shimura clan's compound or Asuma's quarters at the Fire Daimyō's residence, Hiko had subtly manipulated the evidence just enough to throw off the investigation. A small nudge in judgment was often enough to make even seasoned investigators second-guess themselves.
In the shinobi world, it was impossible to be absolutely flawless in operations—some trace always remained. Whether chakra residue, scent, or spiritual imprint, something always lingered.
Especially in a world where tracking skills had reached incredible heights—some shinobi even had sensory abilities beyond those of most summoned beasts.
But Hiko, aware of these capabilities, ensured that no scent or sign remained. Everything was masked, concealed, or redirected. No tail left behind.
Time crawled by. Still, the person he waited for didn't show.
But someone else did.
"The moonlight's pretty nice tonight," came a familiar voice.
"It's decent," Hiko replied.
Of course it had to be Jiraiya—with those sharp eyes of his. Not even the ANBU scouts patrolling nearby had detected Hiko's presence. But this perverted sage had.
Hiko gave him a sharp, disinterested glance.
What are you trying to pull? Moonlight, huh?
If not for duty, why would anyone willingly freeze on a roof all night?
A hot bath and a decent meal would be vastly preferable.
Jiraiya quietly sat next to Hiko, his eyes scanning the surrounding rooftops to ensure his appearance hadn't compromised the mission.
"Guard duty?" he whispered.
Hiko nodded and simply pointed at the ground beneath them.
Jiraiya immediately understood. Someone was being watched.
"I'll get out of your hair then. Good luck," Jiraiya mouthed and waved as he withdrew.
He'd spent the entire day investigating but found nothing useful—only more confusion. The disappearance of Asuma only worsened things.
He'd spent most of the day with Tsunade and Hiruzen poring over theories with zero results. And with Naruto waiting at home, Jiraiya had to call it a day.
He hadn't expected to run into Hiko pulling surveillance duty.
"Get lost already," Hiko muttered.
Jiraiya smirked and slipped into the shadows.
He really had turned into a proper father.
Even Hiko found it hard to believe that the once-carefree Sannin, back in the village due to unforeseen events, had stayed this long—and become both mother and father to Naruto.
Despite his eccentricities, Jiraiya was surprisingly competent with children. He'd raised Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato for years in the Rain Country after all.
Poor Minato, though. His mentor had vanished in the middle of the war and never returned.
Still, it worked out for Minato in a way.
Had Jiraiya not felt remorse toward his absent disciple and decided to support him, the Flying Thunder God Technique might have forever remained beyond Minato's reach.
That technique, developed by the Second Hokage, wasn't something just anyone could learn—even if they accessed the Scroll of Seals.
Without Jiraiya's recommendation, even Minato's brilliance might not have been enough.
Hiko couldn't help but compare that favor to the Uchiha clan's reality. No matter how much they contributed or bled for the village, they were barred from even glimpsing that scroll.
As the night deepened, a figure slipped through a narrow alley in Konoha, moving cautiously with every step.
"Who's there!?"
Kurenai had been tense all evening. She'd noticed movement from the kitchen window the moment it happened.
"It's me, Kurenai."
Makino emerged, muddy and bloodstained. His voice was desperate.
"I need your help. Without you, I'll never make it out of the village."
"You want me to help you flee the village? Makino, do you even hear yourself? That's treason!"
Her voice rose in fury. "Do you know what you've done?! The Konoha Police came to question me today!"
"Police?"
Makino's eyes widened in panic. He instinctively turned toward the window, preparing to flee.
The last thing he wanted was to be captured by the police.
Attacking—and possibly killing—a fellow shinobi wasn't a minor offense. Even if he avoided execution, he'd never walk free again.
"Kurenai, I didn't want this. He provoked me! I just… I didn't think he was so weak."
He spoke in a flurry of panic. Ever since the incident, he'd been hiding. He hadn't dared to approach the village gates—only under the cover of night did he finally slip into Kurenai's home.
He hoped she'd help him escape Konoha.
"Absolutely not!" Kurenai snapped. "You've already committed one crime—you want to add another? Please… just turn yourself in."
"Why won't you help me!?"
He lost control. Exhausted from evading patrols all day, Kurenai's rejection made him snap.
"You said the police were already here. Are you helping them? Is that it?!"
"Makino, don't do this. I don't want to fight you," Kurenai warned softly.
She kept trying to reason with him. If caught while fleeing, he could be killed on sight. Prison was terrible—but at least he'd live.
"Hah! So you're with them after all!"
Makino laughed bitterly, inching toward the window again.
Kurenai's refusal confirmed his fears—she wouldn't help him, and might even be stalling.
"Makino, I'm begging you… don't run," she said.
But it was too late.
Makino no longer trusted her. Worse, he believed she might be part of a plot to capture him.
Her heart tore in two.
His family had supported her after her father died during the Nine-Tails' rampage. Could she really hand him over now?
"Yuhi Kurenai… I was wrong about you."
He dove through the kitchen window and fled.
She didn't chase him.
Makino landed softly on the backyard grass, casting one last look toward the house.
But when he turned—
"Been waiting for you," said a voice.
Then—crack!
The brick smashed into his skull. His body spun, eyes rolling up as he collapsed.
"No matter how strong you are, you're still vulnerable to a brick," Hiko said, inspecting the rubble. "Especially one aimed at the head."
He picked the brick up from a pile he'd discreetly gathered in the backyard earlier.
Makino's rookie mistake? He didn't even scan the area after jumping down—he just glared back at the house.
Too predictable.
"Yuhi Kurenai," Hiko called calmly, "please come with me."
People had weaknesses. Even someone as loyal to Konoha as Kurenai could falter.
From the village's standpoint, she should've captured Makino herself and reported it—just like she'd promised.
But feelings got in the way.
Memories. Gratitude. Emotions.
That hesitation gave Makino an opening.
Unfortunately for him, Hiko had already anticipated it.
He slung Makino's unconscious body over his shoulder like a sack of rice and made his way back to the Konoha Police Department.
"Put him in holding," he ordered. "We'll interrogate tomorrow. Send someone to inform Itachi and Feng—the case is closed."
"Yes, sir."
An officer immediately left to alert the other two investigators.
Hiko led Kurenai into an interrogation room.
"Sit."
She obeyed silently.
Hiko dropped into his chair, legs stretched over the table, arms folded.
"I thought you were going to honor your promise and turn him in."
Kurenai bit her lip, head lowered, trembling.
He shrugged.
"You realize letting a fugitive escape—knowing full well where he was—could make you an accomplice?"
She didn't respond, but tears were streaming down her cheeks.
"I… I wanted to… but I thought of his family. They took care of me after my father died. If I handed him over… I wouldn't be able to face them again."
Hiko leaned back.
Humans really were contradictory.
Would he have acted differently if it were his own kin?
He wasn't sure. He doubted it.
"It's human nature. I get it. But you'll still have to bear the consequences."
He stood up.
"Stay put for the night. I'd rather not come in tomorrow and find the room empty."
With the suspect captured and the accomplice contained, Hiko could finally clock out.
It had been a long night.
His stomach grumbled.
First order of business—food. Then, finally, rest.