Hari nodded to himself.
That sounded remarkably like the sort of warnings Uncle Kisame and Uncle Kakuzu gave.
And Uncle Sasori about his workshop.
Of course, Hari didn’t heed the warnings, but it meant he was cautious when he snuck in.
On the upside, he knew what he was going to do tonight.
He rose when his housemates got up.
It was a silent cavalcade that made its way through a maze of corridors down into the dungeons.
Hari wondered how anyone without the Byakugan was supposed to navigate this place.
As it was, he’d spotted two staircases that had moved and a door that had stopped being a door as they passed it.
This was going to be fun.
A girl wearing a shiny badge on her chest muttered something to the wall and it swung aside to reveal a room filled with chairs, couches, desks, and a fireplace.
“This is the common room,” she said.
“The password is ‘Darkness’.
Don’t tell anyone the password.
It changes weekly.
Now fuck off to sleep.”
Hari poked his head up the stairs on the right (the one labeled “boys”) and found that each boy got his own room.
He made a note of which one was his and then turned and left the common room.
He’d figured that he was supposed to be in bed about now, which was just as well, since it meant no one would be looking for him.
Still, best to be safe.
It took him several tries to work out what these people considered to be the third floor.
He passed several students who moved with the deliberation of a patrol.
But for some reason, they never looked up.
It was something to consider.
Apparently the “third floor” was actually the floor half-way up from the third floor above the main entrance.
It was an endless source of frustration to ninja; no two groups ever counted floors the same way and so instructions on where to find a target could result in some very interesting incidents. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping(.)com.
There was one country where they counted starting from the basement levels and Uncle Kakuzu said that the problem had been that someone had built another subbasement and the mission-notes hadn’t included that.
It was why Uncle Kakuzu was still forbidden in Rabbit-foot Country.
They took a dim view of blowing up the infant princess.
The third floor wasn’t what Hari had expected.
For one thing, while there were four doors on the east side of it, three of them were currently just door-shaped parts of the wall.
He could see marks on them that he guessed meant that they could be doors, but at the moment, they were not.
And inside the last door .
.
.
Uncle Pein?
Well, alright, it wasn’t Uncle Pein, but there was a giant dog with three heads.
That was sufficiently similar.
He was going to have to write Uncle Pein to find out if someone had stolen one of his pets.
He walked down the wall and opened the door.
That wasn’t one of Uncle Pein’s.
None of them barked at him.
He’d take another look later; right now, he was going back to his new room to sleep.
Hari woke to the sound of someone approaching his door.
Then it opened and someone was doing something to his bed.
Without more experience with magic, he would only be guessing what it was, but it probably wasn’t someone wishing him well.
People rarely did that without warning to a sleeping person.
He dropped down once the door was closed.
To be fair to the person trying to harm him, it wasn’t as though he slept in his bed.
Not for years.
Specifically, not since his father had him start staying on the ceiling in his sleep as a form of chakra control. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Hari made note of the boy’s chakra signature.
He would be having “words” with that one.
That’s what his father always called it when he threw Uncle Hidan off of the tower.
It took him a moment to decide that it was still the middle of the night.
That meant he had time; good.
He padded from his room and along the ceiling to the room of the boy who had decided to make his life interesting.
It was probably wrong to deal with someone who was so obviously a civilian like this, but the rules said that any civilian stupid enough to attack a shinobi might as well be removed before spawning could happen.
It was the work of a moment to open the door and slip inside.
He considered a lethal response, but decided that it might be a little extreme for a first offense.
Instead, his fingers glowed blue and he swiped them along the idiot’s legs, shredding the muscle.
A finger slammed into the throat stopped any annoying screams before they could wake people.
Hari slipped from the room, the darkness covering his identity.
He returned to his quarters to lie up on the ceiling and catch a few more hours’ sleep.
The morning was annoying for Hari.
All he wanted was to go find the kitchens and have some words with whomever it was down there that sent up the stuff that they laughably called food.
Instead, he had to spend several minutes dodging Professors Snape and Dumbledore to get out and explore while they did some “investigating” or something about some “attack”.
And then he couldn’t figure out where the kitchens were.
The magic of the castle meant that his eyes only sometimes worked properly.
It was frustrating to be as blind as normal people.
Thankfully, there was bread on the table.
It wasn’t his first choice, but it was just wheat and water and so on.
It was something.
Still, what happened to rice?
It was a staple grain, wasn’t it?
He’d managed to avoid English cooking during his time in London, so this was his first discovery of the unhappy subject.
He missed London, with the communities from China and India and their rice.