Ripples of Concern

The sleek, modern building nestled among the skyscrapers of Seoul buzzed with activity. In a corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bustling cityscape, a man in a crisp black suit approached his colleague, Woo Jinchul. The tension in the air was palpable as he cleared his throat, his face etched with concern.

"Jinchul," he began, his voice low and urgent, "we have a situation that requires your immediate attention." He paused, ensuring he had Jinchul's full focus before continuing. "Eight hunters died during a recent C-rank raid. The only survivors were a D-rank and an E-rank hunter."

Jinchul's brow furrowed, his mind already racing through possibilities. "The lower-ranked hunters must have fled—"

"No," the man interrupted, shaking his head emphatically. "That's what makes this so perplexing. They didn't flee. Against all odds, they managed to clear the dungeon."

Jinchul's eyes widened, disbelief etched across his features. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly as he processed this information. "That's... that's impossible," he muttered, more to himself than his colleague. "The boss of a C-rank dungeon would have been far too difficult for just two low-ranked hunters to defeat. Are you certain about this?"

The man in the suit nodded grimly, his posture tense. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as if afraid the walls might be listening. "There's more, Jinchul. The E-rank hunter... he's the same one who was rescued from an A-rank dungeon not long ago."

Jinchul's expression hardened, his mind flashing back to the reports he'd read. "I remember that case," he said, his voice thoughtful. "When we tested his mana at the hospital, it was remarkably low, even for an E-ranker. He had only recently registered as a hunter, if I recall correctly." He paused, a new thought occurring to him. "Though, it's worth noting that his mana levels might have been depleted from his time in the dungeon before the rescue. We can't rule out that possibility."

The man nodded, acknowledging the point. But his face remained grim, indicating there was more to come. "There's one more thing you should know, Jinchul. One of the dead hunters... it was Hwang Dongsuk."

The name hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Jinchul's eyes widened, the implications of this information hitting him like a physical blow. "Dongsuk?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hwang Dongsoo's brother?" 

The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming charged with a new intensity. Jinchul's tone became deadly serious, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his colleague. "We can't ignore this matter any longer. This goes beyond a simple anomaly now."

Meanwhile, across the city, in a modest apartment complex, Itachi Uchiha returned home, his body weary from the events of the past two days. The small, sparsely furnished room felt almost cavernous in its silence as he entered, a stark contrast to the chaos he'd left behind in the dungeon.

After a quick, simple dinner of rice and grilled fish, Itachi's attention was drawn to his phone, its screen blinking insistently with notifications. As he picked it up, his eyes widened slightly at the number of missed calls, all from his friends. A frown creased his brow, not out of annoyance, but from an unfamiliar feeling tugging at the edges of his consciousness.

"They called... multiple times," he thought, a hint of confusion coloring his internal voice. The concept of someone worrying about his whereabouts was foreign to him. In his previous life, disappearing for days on end was par for the course. "I wasn't in any danger. They should have known that." Yet, even as he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't shake the realization that his friends had been genuinely concerned for his well-being.

Sighing softly, Itachi leaned back on his floor, his dark eyes fixed on the ceiling. "They don't understand that I don't need looking after." But even as he thought it, another part of him recognized the significance of their concern. The thought of being missed, even over something he considered trivial, was strangely grounding. These friendships, however new or fragile, were becoming something more than mere associations. In a world without clans or missions, without the weight of the Uchiha name on his shoulders, they were all he had.

"I should've told them I'd be gone," he realized, the concept feeling foreign on his tongue. It was an odd realization for someone who had spent most of his life operating in shadows, where communication was often a liability rather than a courtesy.

Deciding to deal with it in the morning, Itachi called it a day and went to sleep, his dreams a swirling mix of his past life and his present reality.

The next day dawned bright and clear. Itachi woke with the sun, his body moving through his daily training regimen with practiced ease. Each movement was precise, a testament to years of rigorous discipline. After a light breakfast of miso soup and rice, he prepared for school, his mind already anticipating the confrontation to come.

As Itachi approached the school gates, the bustling sounds of students chattering and laughing filled the air. But his keen senses immediately picked out three familiar figures waiting by the entrance. Sung Jin-Ah, Park Min-Woo, and Han Song-Yi turned as soon as they spotted him, their expressions a complex mix of relief and frustration.

Jin-Ah was the first to move, hurrying over to him with quick, determined steps. "Itachi!" she exclaimed, her voice a blend of relief and exasperation. "You were gone for two days without a word!" The slight tremor in her voice betrayed the depth of her concern.

Min-Woo adjusted his glasses nervously, his usual enthusiasm dampened by obvious anxiety. "You didn't answer any calls or texts," he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I thought maybe you were in some kind of danger. I was this close to report you missing!"

Song-Yi leaned against the wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her posture was casual, but the tension in her shoulders and the sharp look in her eyes told a different story. "Two days, Itachi," she said, her voice cool but with an undercurrent of genuine concern. "You just vanish, and we're all left here wondering what happened. How could you ghost us like that?"

Itachi remained composed, his face an impassive mask as he took in their words. But beneath the surface, he was processing, analyzing. He could see the genuine concern and frustration in their faces, hear it in their voices. He hadn't anticipated they would care this much about his absence. It was... unexpected.

"I had something to take care of," Itachi said quietly, his voice calm and measured. "It wasn't important." Even as the words left his mouth, he realized how inadequate they sounded.

Jin-Ah sighed, her gaze softening slightly but still tinged with frustration. "It might not have been important to you, Itachi, but it was to us. We're not mind readers. We thought something bad had happened." 

Min-Woo frowned, his usual cheerful demeanor subdued. "I mean, I almost went into full-on search mode. You could've sent something, anything. Even a single text would have been enough."

Song-Yi's sharp look didn't waver as she spoke. "Yeah, next time, at least leave us a note or something. We're not babysitters, come on. But we are your friends, and friends look out for each other."

Itachi stood there for a moment, weighing his response. These friendships were new to him, a stark contrast to the isolating life he had led as a shinobi. He wasn't used to people being this worried over something he considered inconsequential. In his past, disappearing for a few days was standard operating procedure. But here, in this new life, things were different. He realized now how much they cared, how his actions had affected them.

"I understand," he said at last, his voice low but sincere. There was a subtle shift in his demeanor, almost imperceptible to anyone who didn't know him well. But to these three, who had come to recognize the nuances in his usually stoic expression, it spoke volumes. "Next time, I'll make sure to let you know."

Jin-Ah's expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Good," she said, the relief evident in her voice. "Don't make me worry like that again, okay?"

Min-Woo let out a long, exaggerated sigh of relief, some of his usual energy returning. "That's better. I was getting ready to gear up and start a full-scale rescue mission. Maybe I should design an app for hunter emergencies..."

Song-Yi's posture relaxed slightly, though her gaze remained sharp. "Just don't make a habit of this, okay? We've got enough to worry about with dungeons and monsters without adding your disappearing acts to the list."

Itachi nodded silently, a new understanding dawning within him. In this modern world, his connections to these people mattered in ways that were unfamiliar but necessary. Even for someone like him, hardened by a life of secrecy and sacrifice, these friendships had become an important part of his existence.

As they walked into the school together, the tension slowly dissipating, Itachi couldn't help but feel a small warmth growing within him. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time, not since the days when Sasuke was young and innocent, looking up to his big brother with adoring eyes. 

This new life, with its unexpected connections and unfamiliar emotions, was changing him in subtle ways. And as they settled into their classroom, surrounded by the mundane chatter of their classmates, Itachi found himself, for the first time in a long while, looking forward to what the day might bring.

-----------

This chapter might be boring but it was necessary for Itachi's character developement.