“Since when?” Nenro asked.
Takuma had led him to a small park above the Hokage’s Mountain that overlooked the entire village, which looked grand and stunning in the warm light of the sunset. He would have loved to sit there in silence and just look over the village, but it didn’t attract a single bit of his attention because he was interested in something else.
“After I got back from the war,” Takuma said. Nenro had heard others call him Ratel, a lieutenant. “What about you? If you were with Tapir, I’m assuming you are still in training.”
“Second month,” Nenro answered. “They asked me after the raid.”
Takuma smiled. “An official reprimand in exchange for an ANBU operative position? Not a bad deal.”
“Exactly what I thought… So this is why you have been so busy?” Nenro didn’t wait for an answer and instead looked at his friend. “You know, I was surprised when you suddenly dropped yourself from the Police Force and joined a bodyguard firm. That really was out of character for you…”
There were so many other things that instantly jumped out at him, and he wanted to say them, but in the end, he didn’t say anything. None of that mattered. He could get the details later.
“I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“About what?” Takuma asked.
“About this. ANBU.”
“Why not?”
Nenro told him about the conversation he had with Tapir. He even went through the pros and cons of telling his loved ones that he had been refining for the past two months.
“—listen, I can keep a secret. This job wouldn’t be for me if I couldn’t. But I need someone to share something this big.” A light suddenly shone in his eyes. He turned to Takuma and said, “I can share it with you—”
“Just tell Ai, you dufus.”
“Huh? But Tapir—”
“Tapir doesn’t know her. He doesn’t know your relationship. Yes, the logic is sound, and the statistics prove that telling friends can get problematic—”
“Is that why you didn’t tell us?” Nenro asked.
Takuma looked guilty for a moment as he turned his head away. “No, the reason I didn’t tell you is that I like to keep my personal and professional life separate. With the amount I work, you might think if I could work with my friends—then I would at least spend time with you guys—but no, that won’t happen. My personal life, as pathetic as it is, will fizzle and disappear. I can’t stress enough how much I don’t want that.
“You think my work is my life, don’t you?”
“… It sure seems that way,” Nenro said, and perhaps that was a little bit mean, but he was feeling a little bit resentful. He had really tried to reach out; he had done so even before the war when Takuma was in the Police Force, and had done so again after the war when it seemed clear that what Takuma needed was his friends. But Takuma had disappeared into his work once again.
“It isn’t,” Takuma said, looking tired. “If I didn’t have to work, I would not, surely not this much. I would be the biggest bum, bigger than Taro if he were allowed to stay home, but I need this—”
“For what? What is so important that you can’t even spare an hour for dinner every week? Is that so much to ask for in a friendship?”
“No, it’s not too much, and I’m sorry for failing all of you, but the future… if I don’t do this, then…” Takuma looked a little pale as he trailed off into a sigh and grabbed the railings on the edge of the park.
“Future? What are you talking about?” Nenro asked.
Takuma didn’t answer. “You should tell Ai. This job isn’t easy. ANBU has a very high divorce rate. Even if you try your best to maintain a healthy work-life balance, unless you’re a lieutenant or higher, the work will try to consume your life… Ai needs to know why her boyfriend is suddenly not spending time with her like before.”
Nenro knew something about that. Ai was busy as well as an iryō-nin student, and they had hit a rough spot a while back that made them work out a solution so they wouldn’t keep missing each other.
“You are a lieutenant; you’re still busy,” Nenro said.
“I’m the exception,” Takuma said.
“By choice…”
“… By choice,” Takuma nodded heavily. “Ignore Tapir and just tell her. It’s his job to worry about stuff like this. Knowing her, if you don’t tell Ai, she’ll eventually start to overthink and bother herself in that big brain in the little head of hers.”
In truth, Nenro just needed someone to give him permission. “I will… I will do it,” he said. “What about Masaaki?”
“Don’t push your luck. You must wait at least two years to tell another person,” Takuma said. Nenro felt disappointed, but he understood. It was fair. “Or you can tell Masaaki as well and just not report it to Tapir. You’re about to be ANBU; lying is part of the job. You better get good at it. Want me to teach you?”
“You already did,” Nenro said, telling Takuma about the recruitment test.
“Good job,” Takuma smiled.
“Who have you told?” Nenro asked, curious.
“Officially? Only one…”
“Mister Maruboshi?”
“… yeah, I guess that’s a pretty easy guess.”
“And unofficially?”
“A couple I told personally, but I’m sure there are more than a few who know. Comes with the position.“
Nenro hummed. An ANBU Lieutenant was a big position; he guessed there had to be some people like clan heads or relevant jōnin who could find out a lieutenant’s identity if they wanted to know it.
“Let’s talk more about it over food. My treat,” Takuma said, patting Nenro on the shoulder before resting his arm there, a weight that felt heavy. “I still have my secrets, so understand that I won’t tell you all. In fact, I won’t tell most of them. Some of them are personal, things that you’ll not like that I didn’t tell you immediately. Can we work with that?”
“Yes, we can work with that,” Nenro said after a while before subconsciously moving Takuma’s hand off his shoulder.
“Ah, sorry, was I too strong?” Takuma said, and almost immediately he was back to his normal self—the one he had met all those years ago at the basic training who looked too tired for it to be healthy.
Even when Nenro found that Takuma was an ANBU-nin and had been hiding it for years, he still recognised his friend. It was still Takuma; he just had a secret he was justified in hiding and not someone who had been lying about everything about himself. But right now, with his hand on the shoulder and the talk about secrets, there was a look in his eyes that looked completely foreign. For just a moment there, Nenro couldn’t recognise Takuma.
“… No, it’s fine,” Nenro said, nodding.
“Give me… an hour. Go freshen up and meet me there,” Takuma said before vanishing faster than what Nenro could perceive, leaving him wondering what he had just seen.
———
Tapir was cleaning his office at the end of his day to prepare it for the next day. Even though they had trusted and effective office cleaners, who would clean over whatever he was doing, it was a habit he had kept since before he had joined ANBU.
He looked up when there was a knock on his door and found Ratel standing there. Normally, he would think that it was another jutsu discussion that they had irregularly. The rate at which Ratel went through C-rank ninjutsu was impressive; while it was by no means the fastest—in fact, he was only average until he got the basics down—that’s when he picked up steam and learned quickly.
“Oh Ratel, come on in,” Tapir said.
Ratel stood just outside the threshold and didn’t step inside. “Give him to me,” he said.
Tapir paused before putting down the rag on the table and turning to face Ratel, who stood there without an expression on his face. “Recruitment must’ve known his connection to me. Why wasn’t I called when they did his background?”
“It’s standard practice. Your input would be considered biased due to your personal connection,” Tapir replied calmly. “And I’m sure they reached out to you; you’re a lieutenant after all,”—there were people everywhere who wanted to curry favour with the ANBU Lieutenant Ratel—“but you probably didn’t bother meeting with them. You must’ve been busy, I understand.”
“I want him. My unit is understaffed,” Ratel said.
“Yes, but you could poach more experienced operatives,” Tapir said.
“I could, but getting new blood is also necessary.”
Tapir scratched an itch under his chin. “Give me a reason why he’s suitable for you, and prove this is not just an attempt to abuse your professional authority for personal reasons. If it’s the latter, you don’t need to be here; you can get that accomplished by going above my head. Why come to me?”
“Because I don’t want to violate your integrity. I respect you too much. I will only take him if you approve, but I’m going to do my best to convince you,” Ratel said as he finally stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “I know him well; I know where to put him where he’ll be the most effective. More importantly, he’s a well-connected and yet untouched civilian-born shinobi—a true outsider who wasn’t even born in the village.
“You realise how valuable that is to me, right?”
“And so this is not for personal reasons?” Tapir asked.
“Of course it is,” Ratel said. “What’s wrong with that if he’s right for the job?”
“What if he’s not a good fit? What are you going to do then?”
“I don’t think he’ll fail. If he ends up doing poorly, I’ll move him to something else until I find the fit.” Ratel raised his hand to stop Tapir from speaking. “I can’t afford dead weight. I won’t change that rule even for a friend. If I find that he’s not valuable, then I’ll transfer him without any delay.”
Tapir stared at Ratel, and this was exactly like him. The kid was capable of extortion, putting pressure, political manoeuvring, and who knows what—and yet, he was trying to do it this way. Tapir wasn’t sure if it was because he was confident that he would succeed in convincing him or something else.
“Sit down,” Tapir said. He would at least listen.
“Thank you for your time, Tapir.”
Two weeks later, Nenro was informed that he would be joining a squad belonging to a unit under ANBU Captain Weasel.
At the end of the training, Nenro would find that his friend was now also his boss.
———
.
A/N: Done for this week.