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"Examinees."
The Sandaime's voice drifted down from the stands, drowning out all the murmurs.
The Examinees below looked up at the old man with a pipe in his mouth.
"The third phase of the formal exam..."
The Sandaime paused. "...will be held in one month."
A slight commotion rippled through the crowd.
"The location will be Konoha Village's Central Training Ground. At that time, the Daimyo and nobles of various countries will be present."
The Sandaime's gaze swept across the young faces.
"Your performance will determine your future path."
Shinji leaned against a pillar, unmoving.
One month later.
Orochimaru's Konoha Crush plan. The death of the Sandaime. The betrayal of Sunagakure.
Those events would happen in a month.
However, with the addition of Mei Terumī as a variable this time, he didn't know if everything would develop as it did in the original story.
"The match order for the exam..."
The Sandaime's voice continued, "...will be determined by lottery. The drawing will take place on the day of the exam, conducted by me personally and announced on the spot."
Shinji looked up toward the stands.
The Sandaime stood there, with two Kage standing behind him.
The Kazekage. That fake. A gentle smile was on his face.
The Mizukage. Mei Terumī's seat was empty.
Shinji's gaze faltered for a moment.
When did she leave?
He hadn't noticed.
"Very well."
The Sandaime put away the paper in his hand. "During this month, you may train freely or request assistance from your Jonin instructors. Konoha will provide all necessary support."
He paused.
"Make good use of this month."
"Dismissed."
The crowd began to stream out.
Some discussed the upcoming matches excitedly, some kept their heads down in silence, and others gathered in small groups to discuss training plans.
Naruto's golden head bobbed in the crowd as he shouted, "Sasuke, just you wait! I'll definitely defeat you!"
Sakura rolled her eyes nearby.
Sasuke walked out expressionlessly with his hands in his pockets.
Shinji followed the crowd out.
As he reached the exit, he stopped for a moment.
He glanced back at the stands.
That seat was still empty.
This wasn't a good sign.
Shinji withdrew his gaze and continued forward.
...
By the time he left, it was already late.
Shinji walked along the nighttime streets.
The moonlight was faint, filtered through the clouds, leaving only a shallow layer of white as it fell.
The shops on both sides of the street had long since closed, their signs swaying gently in the wind with a creaking sound.
Occasional barks from dogs drifted from afar, only to quickly fall silent again.
He didn't take the main road.
He cut through alleys, bypassed houses that still had lights on, and took the small path behind the training ground. This was his usual route.
It was inconspicuous and avoided any acquaintances.
But tonight, every step he took was focused on the same thing.
Mei Terumī might already be waiting for him at home.
The Water Clone from earlier hadn't caught him; she would definitely come tonight.
Given her personality and that fire that had burned for fifteen years, she couldn't possibly sit quietly in a guest room and wait for a month.
"It's not just possible, it's certain!"
Shinji stopped at the entrance of the alley.
The moonlight didn't reach inside; the depths of the alley were pitch black. Only the window of the small house at the end was visible. There was no light.
He hadn't lit a lamp when he left. Nor was one lit now.
But Mei Terumī was definitely inside.
What should he do?
How was he going to get through this?
If he went up and opened the door, he might be skewered by a ninja sword the very next second.
If he turned and ran, he wouldn't be able to outrun Mei Terumī.
"System? Are you there, System! If you don't respond, your host is going to die.
And it'll be your fault. If it weren't for that Final Mission of yours, I could have been living the dream by now. How did I end up here?"
Shinji stood for three seconds, his mind racing.
Then, a flash of inspiration hit him, and he had a bold idea.
He stepped into the alley.
His footsteps echoed on the bluestone pavement, one by one. Not fast, not slow, but steady.
He stopped at the door.
He raised his hand.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three times.
Neither loud nor soft. Exactly three knocks.
The room was silent.
But Shinji knew she was inside.
He waited.
Inside the room.
Mei Terumī sat on the hard wooden bed.
She had been sitting there for two hours. From dusk until late at night, from anger to calm, and from calm back to anger.
She had imagined many scenarios of Shinji's return.
He would push the door open and be run through by her blade.
He would see her and turn to run. Or he would stand there, looking at her with those calm eyes, saying nothing.
Mei Terumī had thought of every possibility.
She was prepared to respond to each one.
But when those three knocks sounded, she froze.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three knocks, neither loud nor soft, exactly three.
She was all too familiar with this rhythm.
Every time before he went on a mission, he would come to knock on her door.
It was this exact rhythm, these exact three knocks.
Then she would open the door.
Shinji would stand at the door and ask, "How have you been lately?"
She would reply, "Fine."
Shinji would nod, turn, and leave.
It was that simple.
So simple that Mei Terumī once thought this was their love.
But now, these familiar knocks echoed in the silent night, like a stone thrown into stagnant water.
The him who had stood at the door for all those years asking "How have you been lately."
The him who had stepped out of the mist to shield her.
The him who, covered in blood in the heavy rain, had said to her, "As long as you call, I will come."
Those images surged up like a tide.
Was it real?
Was that kindness real?
Or was it all fake, nothing more than an undercover mission?
Mei Terumī realized she suddenly didn't know.
She only knew that she should hate Shinji.
She should have plunged her blade into his heart the moment he pushed the door open.
But those three knocks made her suddenly uncertain.
She raised her hand and gripped the ninja sword on her lap.
Outside the door.
Shinji stood there.
He waited for a long time.
Long enough for the moonlight to fully emerge from behind the clouds and illuminate the alley.
Then, the door opened.
Mei Terumī stood inside.
The moonlight shone from behind Shinji, falling on her face.
Her auburn hair was a bit messy, and her emerald eyes resembled two deep pools in the dim light.
She wasn't wearing her Mizukage robes, but rather a set of dark casual clothes, holding a ninja sword in her hand.
The blade was not unsheathed.
She looked at him, and he looked at her.
Moonlight fell between the two of them.
Silence for three seconds.
Then Shinji spoke.
"How have you been lately?"
His voice was as flat as if he were remarking that there was no one at the training ground in the afternoon.
Just like every time he stood at her door before a mission during the past fifteen years.
Mei Terumī's pupils constricted slightly.
She looked at Shinji's ordinary, expressionless face.
Those images surged up again.
The him who had stood at the door for all those years saying, "I believe in you, the one who can change this Village."
The him who had stepped out of the mist and said to her, "Be my partner."
The him who, covered in blood in the heavy rain, had said to her, "As long as you call, I will come."
All that kindness.
She gripped the hilt tight.
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