A few days later, in the quietly lit corridor of the Hokage Tower, Itachi's gaze paused on Shuji's face.
"Your complexion looks off, Senpai," he said softly, noting the faint bluish shadow under Shuji's eye.
"Just fatigue," Shuji replied, rubbing his brow and stifling a yawn. "The money's credited. Let's go—barbecue, on me. We'll eat and split the rest."
Itachi was used to this arrangement; he had told his mother where he'd be.
They stepped into the evening bustle, aromas of sizzling fat drifting through the air. Shuji hummed an off-key tune ahead, while Itachi followed a half pace behind.
Beside Shuji, Itachi felt an unusual ease. Here, he was not regarded as a "genius specimen," nor burdened by heavy expectations—just an ordinary boy.
The barbecue joint brimmed with life. Pork belly slices hissed on the iron grates, fat dripping to flare little sparks. Quick-handed, Shuji plucked a slightly charred piece glazed with dark sauce and devoured it eagerly.
The scalding juice and savory glaze exploded on his tongue, washing away days of weariness with brutal deliciousness.
"Ah…" He exhaled in satisfaction, eyes closing briefly before picking another perfect slice and placing it on Itachi's plate. "Eat up—you're still growing."
"Are you researching a new jutsu, Senpai?" Itachi asked, eyes on the fragrant meat.
"Sort of," Shuji mumbled, stealing another bite. "Not going well. What about you? What have you been training these days?"
"Taijutsu, ninjutsu, weapon throws," Itachi replied, lifting his chopsticks. "With my clan's elders."
"Uchiha Shisui?"
Itachi's movement hesitated ever so slightly. He met Shuji's eyes. "You know Shisui?"
"Apart from you—who graduated in record time—he's the most famous Uchiha," Shuji said calmly, sipping barley tea. "I've heard of him, never met him."
After several rounds, the emptiness in their stomachs was replaced by solid contentment. Shuji wiped his mouth and turned to business: "The payment's confirmed. The Sunagakure rogue's sealing scroll contained loot worth about eleven million ryō…"
That sum could fund over a dozen high-grade A-rank missions across the Five Great Villages. A typical chūnin might never amass that in a lifetime.
"Senpai," Itachi set down his chopsticks, gaze clear and focused, "why did that Sunagakure ninja betray his village?"
Shuji did not answer directly, but asked in return: "What is a village, to you?"
Itachi thought briefly, then gave a textbook reply: "It's where ninjas live, accept missions, and protect each other."
Shuji nodded, looking out at the rising lights across Konoha as if seeing through time's dust: "Originally, Konoha was just a settlement carved out by the Senju and Uchiha after laying down their feud."
"When the two strongest clans in the ninja world made peace—and even lived side by side"—he tapped the table with his chopsticks—"the other clans in the Land of Fire lost choice. None could stand alone against those united houses. To survive, they had to join Konoha."
Itachi straightened.
The idealized history taught in the academy—of shining founding glories—now lay stripped to its cold, pragmatic roots: survival pressure and power calculus.
"When most Fire Country clans gathered here," Shuji continued, "this place naturally became the nation's sole and strongest military pillar. Local lords and even the daimyō's mansion could no longer, like in the Warring States, pit clans against each other for profit."
On the grate, a thick meat slice dripped fat onto coals with a loud sizzle, sending a plume of white smoke skyward.
"So initially," Shuji re-focused on Itachi, "the village was more a platform—a place where clans could cooperate under agreed rules and compete within them."
"At that time, Konoha was essentially a cluster of over a dozen clans banding together for warmth."
"Until…" Shuji's eyes sharpened, "the Senju voluntarily dissolved the clan, and Konoha began absorbing orphans and wandering shinobi with no clan ties. After the Second Hokage formed the Anbu…" He paused as though choosing words, "the village truly gained its own power base not wholly dependent on clans—a force answerable only to the village itself."
Outside their booth, a server's footsteps carrying dishes approached and receded, leaving a momentary hush.
"This shift was crucial," Shuji's voice grew serious. "Clans were no longer Konoha's sole pillar. When existential threats eased, suppressed personal ambitions and pursuits among ninjas emerged. Some pursuits…" He lifted his tea cup, studying its amber contents. "Inevitably conflict with the collective village."
Smoke from the grill curled between them, obscuring their expressions.
"You said ninja is just a job to you," Itachi pressed. "How do you view rogue ninjas?"
Shuji's expression stayed calm. "Usually I treat them as enemies. Under the village system, ninjas are strictly bound and can't strike civilians at will."
He picked up a charred piece, dipped it in sauce, and added, "Civilians can farm, run shops, live in peace—violence is contained. With economic growth and better lives, good things"—he gestured to the sizzling grill and full table—"…increase."
"But rogues like that Sunagakure ninja," Shuji's tone shifted, "who flee seeking a better life, seem justifiable at first glance. In reality…" He smiled faintly, no warmth in it.
"That was a cautious chūnin wary of village power. Imagine those even more reckless, without scruples, treating lives as nothing…" He paused, drank tea, his Adam's apple moving.
"I want to enjoy a good meal in peace. If someone tries to spoil that—" He set down the cup with a crisp sound—"I'll stop them, within my abilities."
Itachi listened silently, his small fingers tracing the warm cup's rim, feeling the smooth ceramic.
"Senpai," he ventured after a moment, voice hushed, "do you think the village system… can sustain this… order indefinitely?"
Shuji looked toward the window.
Night had deepened; Konoha's streets glowed with lanterns, outlining returning silhouettes. "No system is perfect, Itachi."
"The question is whether it yields better results than the past. As for the village system…"
"From ending the Warring States and reducing needless slaughter, it's certainly more competitive than scattered clan rule."
Shuji met Itachi's eyes again. "The village platform gives ninjas a place they can truly call 'home,' reducing endless clan conflicts. But it also brings new constraints and… new contradictions."
"Under any system, irreducible tensions exist: individual ninja desires versus the village's needs; clan traditions versus unified will. These are issues the village must confront, generation after generation, balancing and resolving."
"Senpai," Itachi asked, "then must powerful clans… not exist within the village?"
"Not entirely," Shuji answered thoughtfully. "The village needs clans to some extent."
"Especially families with unique kekkei genkai. Clans are the most effective way to protect and pass on these rare abilities."
"Clans, in fact, share the village's burden of nurturing special talent and safeguarding secret arts, easing potential direct conflicts between powerful individuals and collective rules."
He wrapped a lettuce leaf around grilled meat, tone calm yet firm: "However, clan power must never grow too large or supersede the village. After all…"
"From reality's standpoint, in the carnage of three great ninja wars, heroes who stood to defend the village came mostly from families without famed bloodlines. It was countless unsung individuals who sacrificed themselves so the village could endure."
Itachi said nothing more. He looked down at the piece of meat Shuji had placed on his plate, now slightly cooled, its surface still glistening under the warm light.
Only the grill's quiet crackle and distant laughter from the next booth filled the room.
Chapters in advance there: patreon.com/Thaniel_a_goodchild