Chapter 10

Mito, on the other hand, has more personal reasons. As the future guardian of the Mask Temple and the closest blood relative of the Jinchuriki in case Uzumaki herself is absent, it's essential for me to know the key players in the political arena.

And she has a wealth of experience in navigating these political games and balancing the interests of various parties, although mostly from the perspective of personal power and familial connections. This is why I am aware of certain aspects of life in Konoha that are unknown to ordinary shinobi below the rank of a full-fledged jounin.

Throwing a glance at the sun, which was beginning to sink from the sky, I submerged myself underwater for a moment, snorted out the water droplets from my nose, then stood up and made my way to the exit of the onsen, draping the wet towel over my shoulder.

My rest period was over, and today I needed to run errands, including purchasing paper and ink to replenish the dwindling stock of sealing supplies in the shop. I also needed to check on the health of Keiko, who had recently begun moving around fully, and then hurry home for dinner and attend to Saya's scars.

As I slowly made my way down the street along the familiar route from the hospital to the clan quarter, simply because I had no strength left for shunshin, I yawned widely and unexpectedly caught sight of a familiar face among the stream of people rushing by. On closer inspection, I recognized the shinobi who frequently took on my missions to provide fighters for taijutsu training.

"Hey, Shibatari-san!" I called out, raising my voice to attract attention as I crossed the street, ignoring the pedestrians who quickly began to scatter.

Turning at the call, the shinobi allowed me a more thorough look at him. The first thing I noticed was a pale vertical scar across his left eye, clearly inflicted by some sharp-edged weapon. The vacant eye socket, covered by a dark gray bandage, gave him a somewhat dandyish appearance.

However, his tired look dulled the impression somewhat, though it didn't stop the pretty girl behind the counter of the bakery shop, near where the shinobi had stopped, from casting interested glances his way. Other than the new jounin vest, Kei looked almost the same as he did over three years ago, only a bit broader in the shoulders and appearing more solid.

However, given his specialization, that wasn't surprising. I too had not only grown taller over the years but wider as well. Not enough to be called very muscular, but the body structure of most Uzumaki men leans towards a strong build, and it takes considerable effort to keep up with speed as well.

"Nara-san?" the guy almost immediately recognized me.

Probably because, even though I continued to wear a mask with glasses within the village, I didn't always put on a cloak, especially to hide my hair under the hood.

"That's me!" I nodded in reply, giving the jounin a friendly pat on the shoulder. "How's life? I see you've picked up a few more scars…"

"Who hasn't?" he smirked. "But I'm still alive, as you can see. How about you? I heard from acquaintances that you were holed up in the most remote and miserable corner of the Land of Grass for almost a year and a half. My sympathies."

I've got more interesting stuff on patreon (+ 200 chapter)

patreon.com/Chill76