6: Longing

“Don’t forget to finish the homework.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

“All right. Have a good weekend, everyone.”

“Thank you, Sensei! Goodbye, Sensei!”

Iruka walked out to a send-off of synchronized voices and upturned faces. The moment the door shut behind him, the classroom erupted.

“Hey, Irie—come find me later.”

“Aida, you too!”

“Ino, where are you going tomorrow?”

“No idea.”

“Come on, come on, let’s go!” Kiba was shoving things into his bag like the building was on fire.

“What’s the rush?” Shin stood beside him, in no hurry at all.

“Hana’s coming home today. Let’s move.”

“Today?” Shin blinked. “Already been a month, huh.”

“She said she’d bring me something.” Kiba scooped Akamaru up under one arm, grabbed Shin’s sleeve with the other, and dragged them both toward the door.

“Kiba, slow down.” Shin let himself be towed. “The gift isn’t going anywhere.”

Kiba didn’t slow down.

“Shin, want to come over tomorrow?”

“Sorry, I’m busy. Maybe another time.”

“Shin, wanna hang out?”

“I’ll take a rain check.”

He answered the stream of classmates calling after him as Kiba hauled him out through the Academy gates.

“Hey.” Once they were clear, Shin peeled Kiba’s fingers off his sleeve. “Dragging me isn’t going to make her get home faster.”

“Woof.” Akamaru seemed to agree.

Kiba pressed his lips together and grudgingly eased up, falling into step beside Shin.

---

The Konoha market district was lively in the late afternoon—shopkeepers out front, foot traffic thick, the smell of food drifting from open stalls. Among the crowd, shinobi in flak jackets moved alongside merchants in foreign-style clothing, probably traders from other countries passing through.

They walked without hurrying. And without talking.

“Hey,” Shin said after a while. “Do you know where the Land of Rivers is?”

“I looked it up after Hana left.” Kiba thought about it. “Southwest of the Land of Fire. They share a border.”

“So not that far.”

“Guess not.”

Shin nodded and let his mind drift.

Kiba was quiet beside him—somewhere else entirely, staring at nothing.

“Hey.” Shin broke the silence again. “How’s your shuriken practice coming?”

“Huh? Oh.” A beat. “Shuriken’s fine. Kunai too. Perfect scores on both.”

He said it like he was reciting from a list. Flat. None of his usual crowing. On any other day that question would’ve bought Shin a five-minute speech about how he was definitely ahead of everyone in the class.

“You got perfect scores a while ago too,” Kiba added, vaguely.

Silence stretched out again.

“She’s been gone a whole month.” Quieter this time.

Shin waited.

“Do you think she… misses home?” The words came slowly, like he was pulling them from somewhere he didn’t usually reach. “If it were me, I’d… be pretty miserable.”

“Woof…”

“Yeah, you get it, right, Akamaru.”

“She’s not that much older than me, so…”

Shin glanced at him, then looked away.

“She didn’t go alone,” he said. “She has teammates. And a jonin leading the mission.” He kept his voice easy. “What are you so worried about?”

Kiba’s mouth opened. Closed. He couldn’t find the words.

Shin’s expression shifted—just barely. “Wait. Don’t tell me—”

“What?!” Red rushed up Kiba’s neck.

“I didn’t even finish.”

“I’m not—I wasn’t—ugh, shut up!”

“Woof!”

“You too, Akamaru!”

They bickered the rest of the way, Kiba getting louder while Shin stayed mild and unhelpful.

Then Shin spotted them.

Three figures up ahead. One of the silhouettes was unmistakable.

“Kiba.” He stopped.

“What?” Still irritable.

“Look.” He nodded down the street. Kiba turned.

For a moment he just stared.

“Sis—”

He was already running.

Shin followed.

……

Hana Inuzuka was walking with her teammates, mission report freshly submitted, thinking about a bath and dinner, when a familiar voice cut through the street noise.

She turned just in time to catch the blur of her brother slamming into her.

“Hana? You okay?” One of her teammates stepped closer.

Hana looked down at the arms wrapped tight around her waist, the face buried against her shoulder.

“Kiba.” Soft.

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“Sis…” His voice came out muffled, pressed into her jacket.

She laughed—quiet, warm—and reached up to ruffle his hair.

“Hana.” Shin had caught up. He gave her a small bow. “It’s been a while.”

“It has.” She smiled at him. “Good to see you, Shin.”

She looked back down at the person still holding on. “Okay. You’re making a scene.”

Kiba finally let go, stepping back, head down, expression hidden.

Hana crouched to his level and smoothed his hair back with her hand. “I missed you too,” she said, just quiet enough for him. “I really did.”

“…Yeah.” Barely audible.

Shin watched from a step back, the corner of his mouth pulling up just slightly.

Claimed he wanted a gift. Sure he did.

“Is that your little brother, Hana?” Her teammates had been patient long enough.

“Right, sorry.” She stood and turned. “Let me introduce everyone.”

She gestured to Kiba first. “My brother, Kiba Inuzuka.”

Kiba sniffed once and dragged the back of his hand across his face before bowing. It was only then Shin noticed his eyes were red. Hana quietly reached over and wiped one last streak from his cheek.

“And this is Shin Takami.” She indicated Shin. “Also my little brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shin bowed.

Her teammates’ eyes lingered on him a beat longer than usual—a flicker of confusion at the different surname—but neither said anything.

Hana didn’t explain.

“This is Zeri Kano.” She gestured to the quieter of the two—lean, steady on his feet, a standard-issue tantō worn clean across his back. “And Ryoto Ninomiya.”

“Nice to meet you both!” Ryoto grinned at Shin and Kiba.

Shin’s gaze had already settled on the tantō. Most shinobi who carried blades went short; a full katana was samurai territory. A tantō specialist was a different matter.

“Zeri’s one of the best with a blade you’ll find,” Hana said, noticing where Shin’s eyes had gone.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Zeri gave a small shake of his head.

“What about me, Hana?” Ryoto was already angling for a compliment, eyes wide.

“We’ll part ways here.” Hana turned to them both as if she hadn’t heard. “I’m heading home.”

“Go ahead.” Zeri nodded.

Hana took Kiba’s hand and started walking. Shin fell in behind them.

“Wait—we’re already saying goodbye?” Ryoto stared at their retreating backs. “I was thinking we could grab dinner.”

“You,” Zeri said, pressing two fingers to his temple, “have no sense of timing whatsoever.”

He raised a hand and walked away.

Ryoto stood alone in the middle of the street.

“…What just happened?”

---

Kiba had completely forgotten he was supposed to be sulking.

Two blocks out, he was gripping Hana’s hand and talking at full speed—a month’s worth of stored-up words, finally loose.

“I’ve been doing great in class. Iruka-sensei said I’ve improved a ton.”

“My shuriken scores are perfect now.”

“Shin’s keeping up too. Barely.”

“There’s this Sasuke Uchiha—really annoying, walks around with this permanent scowl—but all the girls are obsessed with him and I have no idea why.”

“And there’s this idiot Naruto who follows Shin around every single day.”

“And this guy Choji who does nothing but eat. I call him ‘fatso’ and he gets mad, but he never actually does anything about it.”

“Then there’s Shikamaru, who sleeps through everything but sticks his nose in other people’s business—he always gives me grief when I call Choji that. So annoying.”

“And Shino is—”

He went on like that, barely pausing, like he was trying to pour the entire last month into the next five minutes. Hana walked beside him without a word, expression soft, just listening.

Shin walked behind them, hands laced behind his head, watching the sunset turn the rooftops orange.

“Oh—and there are so many cute girls in class.”

“Ino Yamanaka, for one.”

“And Hinata Hyuga. She’s really sweet, just doesn’t say much.”