Morning came with clear skies.
Kamui unlocked the workshop before anyone else arrived.
The old carpenter had been true to his word.
The key now rested in Kamui’s pocket.
He slid the wooden doors open.
The familiar scent of cedar drifted into the street.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
There was something strangely satisfying about opening a place before the world woke up.
He swept the entrance, arranged the finished furniture outside, and carried yesterday’s tools back onto the shelves.
By the time Daichi arrived, half the morning’s work was already finished.
Daichi looked around.
“…You started early.”
Kamui looked up from the broom.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Worried you’d lose the key?”
“I was worried I’d oversleep.”
Daichi laughed.
“My father chose the right person.”
“I’ll pretend that’s a compliment.”
“It is.”
“You should warn me.
I’m still learning the language.”
The old carpenter arrived a few minutes later.
He inspected the workshop.
The floor.
The tools.
The lumber.
Finally, he nodded.
“You didn’t burn the place down.”
“I considered it.”
“I know.”
“But then I’d have nowhere to sleep.”
The old man grunted.
“Reasonable.”
That was the closest thing to praise Kamui expected all week.
Work ended earlier than expected.
A messenger had delayed the delivery of fresh timber, leaving the workshop with little else to do.
The old carpenter waved Kamui toward the door.
“Go enjoy your freedom.”
“I thought you’d never say those words.”
“I won’t say them again.”
“I’ll treasure this memory.”
Instead of wandering aimlessly, Kamui headed toward the Academy district.
Not because he had business there.
Because he’d hardly seen that part of the village.
Children’s voices drifted over the walls.
Some shouted answers.
Others complained.
One sounded suspiciously like Naruto.
Kamui smiled to himself.
“Sounds alive.”
As he continued walking, he noticed movement near a fence.
A little girl, no older than five, stood on tiptoe trying to retrieve a brightly colored ball that had rolled beneath a wooden storage shed.
She stretched one arm as far as she could.
Still too short.
Kamui crouched beside her.
“Mind if I try?”
She looked up cautiously before nodding.
“My ball…”
“I know.”
He lay flat on the ground, reached beneath the shed…
…and immediately realized the opening was much narrower than it looked.
“My arm’s stuck.”
The little girl blinked.
“…Really?”
“A professional mistake.”
She giggled.
Kamui carefully twisted his arm free.
“This time…”
He removed his jacket, rolled onto one shoulder and reached from a different angle.
His fingers finally brushed the ball.
“There you are.”
He handed it back with a flourish.
The little girl hugged it tightly.
“Thank you!”
“My pleasure.”
She bowed so deeply she nearly dropped the ball again before running off.
Kamui watched her leave with a smile.
“Mission accomplished.”
“You know…”
A calm voice came from behind him.
“…Most adults would’ve just broken the fence.”
Kamui turned.
A young man with a Leaf forehead protector stood nearby.
Brown hair.
Kind eyes.
A faint scar across the bridge of his nose.
He carried a stack of Academy notebooks beneath one arm.
Kamui recognized him immediately.
Iruka.
Of course, he kept that thought to himself.
Kamui stood and brushed the dust from his clothes.
“That would’ve been faster.”
“It would’ve.”
“So why didn’t you?”
Kamui looked toward the direction the little girl had run.
“Because she’d remember the broken fence longer than she’d remember getting her ball back.”
Iruka was quiet for a second.
Then he smiled.
“I like that answer.”
Kamui smiled back.
“I was hoping it sounded smarter than ‘my arm got stuck.'”
Iruka laughed.
“It definitely did.”
They began walking in the same direction.
Neither hurried.
“You work nearby?” Iruka asked.
“The carpenter’s workshop.”
“The one run by old Genzo?”
Kamui nodded.
“So that’s where you’ve been hiding.”
“Hiding?”
“I’ve heard about you.”
Kamui looked surprised.
“Hopefully nothing terrible.”
Iruka chuckled.
“Mostly that you talk too much.”
“…An unfair accusation.”
“I’ve met the witnesses.”
“I withdraw my complaint.”
They both laughed.
It was an easy conversation.
Not forced.
Just two adults discovering they could enjoy each other’s company.
After a few minutes, children’s voices echoed from the Academy yard.
Iruka sighed.
“My break’s over.”
“You teach there?”
“I try.”
“Tough job?”
Iruka smiled wearily.
“Some days they listen.”
“And the other days?”
“They’re children.”
Kamui nodded as if that explained everything.
“It does.”
Iruka looked at him curiously.
“You like kids?”
Kamui thought for a moment.
“I like watching them become themselves.”
Iruka frowned slightly.
“What do you mean?”
“They’re honest.”
“If they’re angry…”
“They’re angry.”
“If they’re excited…”
“They shout.”
“If they’re curious…”
“They ask.”
He smiled.
“Adults spend too much time pretending.”
Iruka was silent.
Not because he disagreed.
Because he hadn’t expected that answer.
Finally he laughed softly.
“I think we’d get along.”
Kamui grinned.
“I was hoping.”
Iruka extended his hand.
“I’m Iruka.”
Kamui shook it.
“Kamui.”
“See you around?”
“I’d like that.”
As Iruka walked back toward the Academy, he glanced over his shoulder once.
The traveler was already heading in the opposite direction, hands in his pockets, humming to himself.
Iruka couldn’t explain why…
But he had a feeling that man would become someone important to the village.
Not because he was powerful.
Not because he was famous.
Simply because…
He had the rare habit of making the people around him smile.
Iruka smiled to himself.
“…Naruto would probably like him.”
Then he laughed quietly.
“…Actually…”
“I think he already does.”