Chapter 47: The Unwelcome Hero
After leaving the Hokage's office, Ryouma encountered several ANBU teams in the corridors. Their demeanor, however, indicated they had already been briefed on his pardon; they showed no reaction to his presence, merely continuing their patrols. All but one. A single masked operative shot a gaze of pure ice towards him as he passed.
If I hadn't been suddenly reassigned to track this brat... perhaps Hayate would still be alive...
This group was the very team that had discovered the body of Moonlight Hayate. And the one with the cold eyes was Uzuki Xiyan.
He seems different... and his weapon has changed... Xiyan's cold eyes assessed him in that single glance, but burdened with a critical report for the Hokage, she did not stop, moving swiftly with her squad.
Ryouma glanced back at her, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. The mask hid her face, but her attire was the same. That ANBU ninja from the cave.
Moonlight Hayate must be dead by now, killed by Suna-nin... That Xiyan... she's pitiable. Ryouma shook his head slightly. For shinobi like these, the mission outweighed their own lives, especially for those in ANBU, who were conditioned to be tools. While Xiyan had tried to kill him, he couldn't fully blame her. She was just another victim of the system, a brainwashed pawn.
Forget it. I'll teach her a proper lesson someday to settle the score, then let it go. The thought settled in his mind, a magnanimous decision made entirely for his own peace of mind.
Had Xiyan heard him, she would have undoubtedly cursed his arrogance and challenged him on the spot.
Once Ryouma stepped out of the Hokage Tower and into the main streets, the public's reaction was starkly different from the disciplined silence of the ANBU.
"Th-that person... am I seeing things? Is that Ryouma?"
"What? Ryouma? How did that traitor get in here, and why is he swaggering around like he owns the place?"
"Look! It's Akizuki Ryouma!"
The news of his defection and S-Class status had spread like wildfire through the village in the short week he'd been gone. Combined with his previous reputation as the "dead-last" and a problem child, his appearance caused an immediate uproar.
"Quick! Someone inform the Hokage!"
"I'll report to the Hokage! You try to hold him!"
"Hold him? You're a Genin! He's an S-Class rogue ninja!"
Ryouma massaged his temples, a headache brewing. He raised his voice. "Quiet, everyone! Listen to me!"
"Civilians, evacuate the street immediately! In case this traitor uses hostages!"
"Yes, yes, everyone, run! The ANBU will be here soon! They'll deal with him!"
"For fuck's sake!" Ryouma nearly lost his composure. The hand gripping the Divine Wind Sword tightened, veins bulging. He took a deep, steadying breath, looked at the rapidly emptying street, and shook his head in utter speechlessness.
Seeing that some shopkeepers had fled without even closing up, Ryouma shrugged and walked into a nearby confectionery shop that had been left wide open. He helped himself to an assortment of pastries and a bottle of tea, eating and drinking with an air of nonchalance.
After his impromptu meal, he looked around, spotted a fruit stand, and picked up a banana, peeling and eating it as he walked.
He was discovering, for the first time, that there were certain... perks to being an S-Class rogue ninja.
He strolled leisurely down the street, eating any delicious-looking food he saw and picking up any interesting trinket that caught his eye, behaving as if he owned the place.
The ANBU operative tailing him from the shadows watched this brazen looting and pillaging, unsure whether to intervene. Deciding it wasn't worth breaking cover, he could only curse Ryouma's shamelessness internally.
"Ryouma? I just heard people saying you were back, but I didn't actually believe it..." A sweet, hesitant voice called out from ahead of him.
Ryouma was intently using the impossibly sharp Divine Wind Sword to peel an apple with surgical precision. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He was at a critical point in the peel and didn't want to look up and ruin it, a bead of sweat forming on his brow.
"Ryouma?" the sweet voice called again, laced with confusion. "The ANBU aren't here yet! You should go! Don't you have that teleportation jutsu? You can still escape!"
"Tch." Ryouma sighed, finally looking up. The single, unbroken apple peel fell to the ground.
"Huh? Ino?" The owner of the voice was Yamanaka Ino. She was wearing casual clothes with a cute apron over them and held a bundle of colorful flowers. The effect was disarmingly charming. Had Ryouma not known her sharp, competitive nature, he might have been completely disarmed.
"What are you doing here?" Ryouma smiled. After the wrinkled visage of the Third and the blank masks of the ANBU, the sight of a pretty girl like Ino was a welcome relief.
"I'm minding the family shop," Ino said. Ryouma looked more carefully and saw he was standing in front of the Yamanaka Flower Shop.
"Never mind that! You need to leave! Now! If you don't go, you won't be able to!" Ino's face was etched with genuine anxiety.
"I..." A mischievous idea sparked in Ryouma's mind. He put on a deeply serious expression. "Do you know why I came back this time?"
"Why?" Ino, who had been ready to continue her plea, was caught off guard by the question and found herself curious despite herself.
"Because," Ryouma said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone, "I came back for you." He infused his expression with what he hoped was profound affection. He lifted the half-peeled apple, striking what he thought was a dashing pose. Just as he was about to deliver his line with a flourish, he paused, took a casual bite of the apple instead, and then slid smoothly to one side.
He took a few quick steps, closing the distance between them. Seeing the flustered look on Ino's face, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. He swallowed the bite of apple and gently took the bouquet of flowers from her hands.
"So, what do you say? Will you come with me?"
W-What is this? What's happening? Has my charm finally started working?!
Ino's heart hammered against her ribs like a frantic little deer. Under Ryouma's intense gaze, she found she couldn't meet his eyes.
"If you don't want to, that's fine," Ryouma said, his expression shifting to one of tragic melancholy. "I know I'm just a wanted man now. I don't deserve your affection..." He let the sentence hang, turning as if to walk away into a desolate future, the picture of a lonely hero—one hand holding a legendary sword, the other a bouquet of stolen flowers, his clothes slightly tattered but doing nothing to diminish his strangely compelling aura.