May twenty-first.
Terumi i sat at the low table in her ho, a mountain of docunts spread out before her.
There were mobilization records from the border outposts, several redacted eting minutes Genji had shared with her, and comparison tables she had compiled herself.
Outside, the sky had grown dark, leaving only a single lamp illuminating the room.
Yagura had been in power for several years now.
The Mizukage who had once stood upon the high platform promising to cure the village's ailnts was now issuing decrees that grew colder by the day.
The "cleansing of bloodstains" had been written into official governnt docunts, leaving both the village and the nation gripped by panic.
It was obvious to everyone: the village was sinking deeper into the abyss.
i flipped a page.
Over the past twelve months, she had steadily earned Genji's trust.
Step by step, Genji was pulling her into the inner circle.
It started with allowing her to observe small-scale etings, then involving her in discussions regarding border mission strategies. Eventually, Genji began summoning her to his office privately to ask for her perspective on village administration.
Every ti, she applied the lessons Kitahara Kaede had taught her.
She set the docunts aside.
A scene from a few days ago in Genji's office flickered through her mind.
That day, after she had submitted her mission report, Genji had invited her to sit—as was his habit—to discuss the details of the assignnt. He pointed out two areas in her report where her analysis could be expanded, then explained how he would view the sa problem from a different angle.
i had nodded and stood to leave.
Then, Genji stopped her.
"Gonbe, please step outside for a mont."
Gonbe nodded, opened the door, and stepped out, closing it behind him.
Only the two of them remained in the office.
Genji leaned back in his chair, his finger resting atop the snake-head handle of his cane.
"Do you believe the changes in the village since Yagura took power have been for the better or the worse?"
i's spine stiffened.
She hadn't expected Genji to ask this.
The question was a direct inquiry into the current Mizukage.
If she said "better," Genji wouldn't believe her. If she said "worse," she would be effectively condemning Yagura in the eyes of the high command.
She didn't know which answer Genji wanted.
She thought for a few seconds.
"The words the Mizukage spoke when he took power, the actions he is taking now, and the current state of the village... they are not entirely aligned."
She avoided using the words "good" or "bad."
Genji's finger paused on his cane. His clouded gaze drifted over her face.
"You may go."
Three words.
i bowed and exited the office. As she walked down the hallway, her pace was half a beat faster than when she had entered.
Her answer hadn't been bad. Genji hadn't pressed her further, nor had he disagreed, which ant her direction was, at the very least, not crossing any lines.
Pulling her thoughts back to the present, i stared at the docunts on her desk.
Yagura's behavior looked less and less like decisions made for the good of the village. She could feel it, but she didn't understand why the Mizukage was doing this.
Kitahara Kaede had once told her, "You need to see the truth."
What exactly was the truth?
A knock sounded at the door.
Instinctively, i slid the sensitive docunts beneath a folder.
"Coming."
She rose and opened the door. Kitahara Kaede stood there, holding a paper bag. His expression was as neutral as ever.
i blinked. "What are you doing here? What's in the bag?"
Kaede lifted the bag slightly. "Red beans."
"Why did you buy red beans?"
"To make red bean rice for you. It's your birthday today."
i's mind went blank for a mont.
Birthday?
Today... May twenty-first.
It actually was her birthday. She had completely forgotten.
"You rembered that?" she asked, stepping aside to let him in.
Kaede took off his shoes and walked inside. "Rembering a date isn't difficult."
i watched his back as he headed straight for the kitchen, her lips parting, though no words ca out.
In this village, there weren't many people she could trust. And there was only one person willing to make a special trip to celebrate her birthday on a day she had forgotten herself.
She stood frozen for two seconds before realizing she was still blocking the doorway. She quickly closed the door and followed him.
In the kitchen, the tap was running, and the sound of red beans pouring into a basin echoed through the room.
i leaned against the doorfra, watching him. Kaede was washing the rice and the beans.
She opened her mouth to say, "Let help," but the mory of the last ti she burned a pot flashed through her mind.
She decided against it.
It wasn't that she didn't want to learn. For the past year, whenever he visited, he either did all the cooking himself or she just made sothing simple when he wasn't around. She simply hadn't found the opportunity to learn.
The beans needed ti to soak.
When Kaede stepped out of the kitchen, i led him to the low table. He naturally straightened the scattered docunts on the table and pushed them to one side.
His eyes swept across the papers, but he looked away imdiately. He didn't read a single word.
i noticed this. After a mont of hesitation, she proactively handed him a few non-classified drafts.
"I've been trying to break down the village's problems into smaller parts. Could you look over them and see if my logic is off track?"
Kaede took the papers and flipped through a few pages. i sat beside him, waiting. She had grown accustod to this; whenever she showed him her thoughts, he always found the blind spots she had missed.
Kaede set the papers down.
"This page describes where the village is failing, but it doesn't ntion who is profiting from these problems."
i looked at him.
"Systems don't just go bad on their own; there is always soone gaining an advantage within a broken system. In the future, list the beneficiaries separately."
i looked down.
*Beneficiaries.*
She pondered those three words for a while.
Kaede didn't say anything more. He stood up and headed back to the kitchen. "The beans are ready."
i gathered her papers and stood up to follow.
Ten minutes later, the red bean rice was steaming, and Kaede had efficiently stir-fried two side dishes.
As the food was placed on the table, i looked at the steaming red bean rice. The deep red of the beans against the white rice was both beautiful and appetizing.
Silence hung in the air for several seconds.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Kaede nodded. "Eat."
She took a bite. The sweetness was perfect, the rice was plump, and the beans were soft without being mushy. She took another bite.
"What about your eighteenth birthday?" she asked casually.
Kaede didn't stop eating. "It's already passed."
i's chopsticks paused. "When was it?"
"February eleventh."
February.
She did the math in her head. During that ti, they had been out on a mission together for nearly half a month, and she hadn't known a thing. They had faced each other every day, yet he hadn't ntioned a word.
"Why didn't you say anything then?"
"It wasn't important."
i stared at him for a few seconds. He rembered her birthday and went out of his way to buy beans to cook for her, yet his own birthday passed without a ntion.
She set her chopsticks down. "I'll make it up to you next year."
Kaede looked up.
"I'll cook for you on that day," she added.
Kaede's chopsticks paused. It was a brief hesitation, but i saw it.
She narrowed her eyes. "What's that look for? You think I can't do it?"
"Yes."
i pointed a finger at him. "You—!"
Her finger stiffened in mid-air. The image of a charred pot bottom flashed through her mind, and her montum vanished.
She retracted her hand, her voice dropping an octave. "I can learn."
Kaede looked at her. "Then I'll look forward to next year."
i shot him a glare and lowered her head to take a huge mouthful of rice.
Her ears felt a bit warm.
Once dinner was over, Kitahara Kaede stood up and reached for the bowls.
Terumi i pressed her hand down on the back of his.
"You cooked the al; it's only right that I handle the dishes. I've got this."
She stacked the dishes and chopsticks, carried them into the kitchen, and set them in the sink. As she walked back out, she added, "I'll wash them in a bit."
She sat down across from Kitahara Kaede.
He looked at her. "No wish for your birthday?"
Terumi i had almost replied with, 'I'm far too old for that.'
But then she thought about how he had gone out of his way to buy red beans and prepared this al on a day she had forgotten herself.
She kept the words to herself and closed her eyes.
Her first wish: that the village would improve through her... no, through the efforts of the two of them.
Her second wish: that this man would still be sitting here next year.
She opened her eyes. Of the two wishes, she had spoken neither aloud.
Kitahara Kaede watched her. "All set?"
"Mhm."
They continued to chat idly for a while, discussing recent mission assignnts and briefly ntioning that there might be new developnts regarding Ao.
Outside the window, the sky had turned completely black.
"It's getting late," Terumi i said, walking him to the door.
Kitahara Kaede changed his shoes and pulled open the door, glancing back at her one last ti.
"Happy birthday."
With that, he turned and headed downstairs. The sound of his footsteps faded step by step until he rounded the corner and disappeared from earshot.
Terumi i stood at the door for a long ti.
Eventually, she closed the door and walked back to the kitchen. After washing the dishes, she dried her hands and stared at the stove for a long while.
She rolled up her sleeves, placed the pan on the rack, and laid out a kitchen knife.
"First step: don't burn the pan."
She turned on the heat and poured a small amount of oil into the pan. A droplet of oil splattered, stinging her wrist.
She let out a sharp hiss.
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