Chapter 23: Shinobi Gear
Aoki Shinobi Gear
The shop wasn't brightly lit. Shelves lining the walls were neatly stocked with all kinds of shinobi tools.
Behind the counter sat a thin, white-haired old man wearing a monocle. He was using the light from a small desk lamp to patiently sharpen the edge of a kunai with a fine file.
Hearing the noren curtain chime, he raised his eyes. They lingered on Shūji's headband for a moment, swept over Itachi and Anko behind him, and finally returned to Shūji with a slight nod.
"Two sets of combat attire," Shūji said, walking to the counter. "I want the thick, durable material, with built-in padding at the joints."
The old man set down the file and stood, pulling several rolls of thick, different-colored fabric from a deep shelf.
"Dark gray, indigo, and dark green. The indigo and green are new, blended with better fibers. Thirty percent more flexible and durable, but fifty percent more expensive."
Shūji looked at Anko and Itachi. "Pick your colors. Anko, you also need new weighted shin guards and arm guards. Your old ones are too worn."
He added to the old man, "Get her a standard Chūnin-spec set."
"For Itachi, I want lightweight gear. Prioritize mobility."
Theoretically, Genin didn't buy custom gear like flak jackets. The stuff was expensive, and Genin missions rarely required real armor. But Itachi was now on a squad that would be handling high-level missions.
Anko pouted at the boring, dark fabrics, but her eyes were almost immediately drawn to a short, dark-purple, hooded trench coat hanging on a nearby rack.
The fabric had a unique matte texture. It was sharply cut, with reinforced shoulders and elbows, and gave off a practical, roguish feel.
"That... that counts as gear, right?" she asked, pointing.
The old man followed her gaze. "A combat trench. The outer layer is specially treated—lightweight and breathable. A bit less protection than a full flak jacket."
"I'll take it! Purple. My size!"
Anko's eyes lit up. The apathy from earlier was washed away by the coat, as if the defiant color could cut through the gloom in her mind.
Itachi quietly pointed to the roll of indigo fabric and simply indicated his height.
The old man noted the requests and went to the back room.
While they waited, Itachi's gaze fell on a row of specialized shuriken displayed in the glass counter. One type had fine, reversed serrated edges that glinted a cold blue in the light. He stared intently.
"Want them?" Shūji followed his gaze. "New model Fūma shuriken. Added armor-piercing and tearing effects. They require more skill and strength to throw properly. Your current wrist strength... you could barely use them, but you couldn't get their full power, and you'd probably end up hurting yourself."
"Next year, when you're stronger, you can switch."
Itachi silently looked away and nodded.
The old man returned with the clothes and several sets of new guards. Anko eagerly took the purple trench coat, rubbing the fabric between her fingers.
Itachi received his set of indigo combat attire.
"That will be 178,000 ryō," the old man said flatly.
Anko's arm, holding the coat, stiffened almost imperceptibly. She stared at Shūji, shocked. She knew gear was expensive, but that much... She couldn't help but mutter, "Captain... are you secretly loaded or something? First the sukiyaki, and now this..."
Shūji took his wallet out, counted a thick stack of bills, and handed it to the old man without a second thought. He glanced at Anko. "If you feel guilty, I donm't mind you paying for it yourself... I earned a big bonus on that last mission."
Anko gave a sheepish laugh, hugging the coat a little tighter. She said no more.
The old man finished counting and nodded.
The three of them stepped out of the shop. The sky had turned completely dark. Anko looked a little tense, her new coat draped over her arm. Itachi held his own bag. The lights of the commercial district seemed even brighter.
"Since we're on the subject of money," Shūji's voice cut clearly through the background noise, "we should set the rules for mission pay." He didn't stop walking. "From now on, forty percent of all mission pay goes to the squad's public fund. For tools, medicine, and other consumables."
"Of the remaining sixty percent," Shūji continued, "I'll take forty. You two will each get thirty. Any questions?"
Itachi nodded immediately. Shūji was the captain and the strongest; it was only right he got the largest share. Besides, Itachi reasoned, the public fund would rarely be spent on Shūji, whose combat style didn't seem to consume many tools.
Anko, however, let out a visible sigh of relief, a grin returning to her face. "Well, in that case, I won't feel bad about today! Thanks, Captain!"
They reached the crossroads where their paths diverged. Anko, hugging her new gear, gave them a casual wave and disappeared into the crowd heading toward the apartments.
Shūji looked at Itachi. "Need me to walk you to the compound gate?"
"That's not necessary, Senpai." Itachi, holding his indigo bag, gave a slight bow.
"Hn." Shūji said no more and turned, heading west.
Itachi walked steadily down the middle of the road, holding his bag.
Just as he rounded a bend, the high, solemn walls of the Uchiha compound coming into view in the darkness, a clear, cheerful voice called out from the deep shadow of an old tree.
"Itachi. You're back."
Itachi's steps didn't falter. He looked at the shadow. "Shisui."
The shadow shifted, and a figure stepped out, as if materializing from the night, stopping at the dim edge of the streetlight's halo. Uchiha Shisui was wearing the high-collared dark blue clan robes, a tantō strapped to his back, his headband tied neatly. He had a gentle, natural smile on his face as his gaze fell on the bag in Itachi's arms.
"How was squad practice today?" Shisui asked, falling into step beside him.
Itachi, still holding the bag, recounted flatly, "Shūji-senpai is very strong. After training, he treated me and Anko-senpai to sukiyaki. He also bought us gear as a gift."
He added, "Combat attire."
"A very kind and generous senpai," Shisui said, his voice warm with a hint of surprise. "Normally, a captain has no obligation to buy gear for his squad members."
As one of Konoha's top Jōnin, he knew the customs. Gear was a personal or a clan expense.
Itachi knew this. His previous Jōnin instructor had been fine, but never this considerate.
"Shūji-senpai," Itachi said softly, his gaze on the road ahead, "is a very attentive... and gentle person."
"You like him a lot, don't you, Itachi?" Shisui turned his head, his smile deepening.
Itachi's steps faltered for half a second, as if he were seriously considering the question.
After a moment, he nodded, his voice still level but with a note of confirmation. "Yes. Being with Shūji-senpai... it's... relaxing."
There was none of the heaviness of the clan meetings, none of the tension of the training grounds, and none of the formless pressure he felt when facing his father.
There was just... eating good food, getting clear guidance, and... a daily life he felt he could actually look forward to.
"Oh, is that so?" Shisui's voice was genuinely pleased. "That's wonderful, then, that you found a teammate like that."
"I was actually planning to ask Hokage-sama to let me be your captain."
Itachi didn't reply, just walked quietly. The only sounds were their light footsteps and the distant chirping of crickets.
The silence lasted for a few breaths, then Itachi's voice came again, this time with a hint of confusion.
"But... Shūji-senpai seems to have some other status. Father was very concerned about it." He looked up at Shisui, who was both his brother and his mentor. "Shisui... is there a special clan in the village? One... without a surname?"