Murakami lifted one of the serving trays while Hoshino balanced the other. The soft chatter of children waiting in the dining room drifted into the kitchen.
They stepped out together.
The moment the children spotted them, the noise softened. Murakami's presence always had that effect. Not because he was frightening, but because he had expectations, and they all knew it.
Hoshino set her tray down first. "Alright, everyone. Hands washed?"
A chorus of "Yes, Hoshino-san!" rose, though a few kids avoided eye contact a little too hard.
Murakami walked to the other end of the table, placing his tray down. Yuto returned with the ladle, holding it like a precious artifact.
"I didn't spill any," he whispered, proud.
Murakami gave a short nod. "Good."
The kids straightened just a little more.
Hoshino began serving as the older children helped distribute plates. Murakami took up a spot beside her, quietly portioning food onto bowls and sliding them toward outstretched hands.
The line moved smoothly, and just then, the front door opened.
Daichi stepped in first, hair slightly mussed, shirt dusty from whatever he had been up to. Aiko followed behind him, cheeks flushed from the evening air.
"You're late," Murakami said without looking up.
Daichi froze. "Eh—just by a little, right?"
Aiko elbowed him. "We lost track of time."
Hoshino sighed but smiled. "Wash your hands and join the others."
As they rushed off, Murakami finished serving the last bowl, Daichi and Aiko's included, and moved to sit down. The children settled into their seats, the low hum of conversation starting up once more.
Yuto took the seat closest to him, clearly on purpose, sitting a little straighter than usual.
Murakami waited for everyone to get their food before picking up his chopsticks.
The room quieted for a brief heartbeat, "Itadakimasu," they all chorused and then softened into warm chatter as everyone began to eat.
Yuto glanced up at him, hesitant.
"Mura-nii… um… did I do well?"
Murakami took a bite before answering. "You listened carefully. That's good."
Yuto's shoulders loosened in relief.
Across the table, Daichi who had returned, grinned. "Mura-nii complimented you? That's rare."
Yuto beamed and began stuffing his face.
Aiko rolled her eyes at him. "Daichi, eat."
Dinner continued, the room filled with the sounds of clinking bowls, quiet laughter, and the small arguments only children could have.
As Murakami finished his meal, he leaned back slightly, gaze sweeping over the room. The kids were loud, messy, and full of energy.
But they were safe and happy.
They were eating.
And they were growing well.
For now, that was enough. Murakami thought to himself.
When the meal wound down, Hoshino raised her voice. "Alright, finish up. We'll clean in groups today."
Several groans echoed.
Murakami stood, stacking his bowl with another. "If you're fast, you'll have time before lights out."
That shut most of them up and the cleanup began almost immediately.
Daichi passed by Murakami, nudging him lightly. "You're in a good mood tonight."
"Hm." He hummed in acknowledgement. He had begun learning Bojutsu efficiently. Of course he would be happy.
He observed as the children moved quickly, stacking bowls, wiping tables, and returning utensils. Murakami observed quietly, stepping in only when someone was about to make a mistake.
"Done," Yuto whispered, setting the last bowl on the kitchen counter.
"Good," Murakami said simply, nodding. "That's enough for tonight. Light's out in an hour."
The children groaned softly, but obediently, they knew Murakami's words left no room for refusal.
With everything cleared, Murakami left the room, stepping out into the cool evening air. He walked to the front yard, letting the door close behind him.
The yard was quiet now, the children gone to wash up or play briefly before bed.
He tilted his head, letting his gaze wander over the night sky. Stars scattered across the dark canvas, steady and unchanging.
They were simple and calm… unlike everything else, he thought, arms loosely held at his back
A soft voice broke the silence. "You always come out here after dinner, don't you?"
Murakami turned to see Aiko standing a few steps away, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her shirt. She looked up at the sky, then back at him.
"I do," he said, voice calm. "It's quieter out here. Easier to think."
She nodded, stepping closer. "I… wanted to see if you were alright. Everyone else gets noisy, and you… you just disappear."
Murakami's eyes flicked back to the stars. Alone time is a luxury, but apparently I'm not the only one who notices. "I'm fine. Just enjoying the night."
Aiko stopped just beside him and looked up too. "It's… nice, isn't it?"
"Quiet. Clean. Unmoving," he said, the words even but his thoughts quietly sarcastic. Unlike the rest of the orphanage, or the world, for that matter.
She smiled faintly. "I guess I understand."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The night stretched overhead, stars blinking gently, and the cool air brushed against them.
Murakami's eyes lingered on the sky a while longer before he finally spoke, voice calm but soft. "You should get inside soon. It won't stay quiet forever."
Aiko glanced at him, then nodded. "Yeah… you're right." She gave a small, understanding smile and headed back inside, but just as she reached the door, she stopped.
"Murakami-kun?"
Murakami paused, head tilting slightly, expression neutral. He lowered it fully and turned toward her.
Aiko wasn't one to call him by his full name. For her to do so meant there was something she wanted.
"I… I was wondering," she began, hesitating, her back still turned to him, "do you… ever get tired of being… the strong one?"
Murakami blinked. The strong one? That's… a new perspective. He raised a brow. "The strong one? I'm not sure what you mean."
Aiko turned around and caught his gaze causing her cheeks to warm slightly. "You know… everyone looks up to you. You always seem… capable. Unshakable."
Murakami let a pause hang, silent for a moment. Unshakable, huh? That's flattering in a way I don't need. "I… don't really notice it. I just do what I do."
Her eyes flicked down, then back up to him. "Then… how do I… get strong like you?"
Murakami didn't answer immediately. He turned and set his gaze on the stars, the cool night air brushing across his face. Interesting… An idea began forming.
Aiko's gaze followed his for a moment, then she exhaled softly. "I… I tried, against… against the Hyūga girl. I lost… miserably." She glanced away, voice quieter. "And I… I still don't feel resolved. Not like you, fighting that Uchiha…"
Murakami's expression remained calm, but inside, a plan began taking shape. She wants to be strong. Fine. She'll learn. But on my terms, not anyone else's.
He kept his gaze on the stars, his voice low and measured. "If you want to be strong… it won't be about trying to beat someone else. You'll have to decide what strong really means for yourself."
"So tell me…what does it mean to be strong?"
Aiko's brow furrowed, lips pressing together. "I… I don't know exactly. I thought it was… being able to win, to not lose to anyone. But… even when I fight hard, I still feel weak. Like I'm just… falling behind."
Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. "I don't want to feel like that anymore. I want to be able to stand and fight… and actually feel like I can win."
She lifted her eyes to him, determination flickering despite the vulnerability in her expression. "That's what I think it means… to be strong."
Murakami wasn't surprised. This was the definition of strength to any shinobi, but that wasnt the case for him.
Murakami's closed his eyes as he enjoyed the cool night air brushing against his face.
Surviving… that's what strength really is.
Winning a fight meant nothing if you didn't make it to fight another day.
Every calculation, every bit of effort, every precaution he took was for that simple truth: staying alive, staying capable, staying free.
He glanced at Aiko again, noting the fire in her eyes.
Cute, really.
She thinks strength is flashy or decisive. She doesn't see the quiet stuff, the rigorous training, the planning, the patience… the parts no one notices until it's too late.
A small, almost imperceptible smirk touched his lips. She's going to learn, one way or another. Might as well make it interesting.
Aiko shifted slightly meeting his gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "So… what should I do first?" she asked, voice hesitant but firm.
Murakami finally turned toward her, expression calm, almost unreadable. "First," he said slowly, choosing his words, "you need to understand that wanting something isn't enough. You have to be willing to pay for it. Every mistake, every bruise, every failure… it all counts toward what you call strength."
Aiko nodded, determination hardening in her eyes. "I can do that."
Murakami's lips twitched into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. "Good. Then we'll start tomorrow. You follow instructions. You observe. You learn. Nothing else matters for now."
Her face lit up, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. "Yes, Murakami-kun!"
She practically bounced in place, a spark of excitement and anticipation radiating from her.
If only she knew. He thought and turned back to the sky, arms folded loosely behind him, letting her energy fill the quiet yard.
Tomorrow, the real work would begin. But tonight, he allowed the calm to linger a little longer.
The stars above remained steady and unmoving… uncaring for the antlike figures that were humans.