AUTHOR'S NOTES:

When I use the phrase, "writing to the void," I'm fairly certain a lot of you fellow authors will know what I mean. It's a common feeling: you get pumped over your writing, and then you post it. At first, you feel giddy because the chapter was one of your favorites. You're certain others will enjoy reading it every bit as much as you enjoyed writing it…and then nothing happens.

Maybe one or two people hit the like button without leaving a review. If you're lucky, you'll receive a review, but that's it. It's underwhelming, and few things can kill your writing mojo quite like apathetic readers can.

If you're a reader and you enjoy a story, please let the writer know via a review or even just a "like" that you enjoyed their work. If you're simply reading in the shadows and never let an author know you've enjoyed their work, they won't know you exist and assume there's nobody reading.

This is why I wanted to post this note. I've had one very persistent and positive reader (Marquis de Nile) who has provided gracious reviews and feedback for almost every chapter. We've never had a two-way conversation, but I wanted to let you know that you aren't reviewing to the void. I read every single one of your reviews. You're the main reason this story gets updated far more regularly than my others!

Thank you for all your kind words. That goes for every reviewer I've had thus far, not just the Marquis. You're all great and I'm very grateful you stumbled across the Vines anthology.

You've been a delightful group of readers so far. Thank you so much for reading my story and I hope you'll continue to do so for many installations to come. There's well over 100 chapters (and counting). There's even some multiparter story arcs coming up in fewer than 5 chapters from now, so stay tuned!

…

Everyone else would be on missions by now. If somebody surprised her with a visit, perhaps she could ask them what the sunrise looked like today.

It was already eleven and Mitsumi had slept a solid eleven hours. Had her father known, he'd be worried, but the village needed highly productive weapon smiths. During war time, Shinohara Kinzo's hours started at 3:30 AM.

Back when she still had a team, Mitsumi occasionally treated her teammates to a surprise breakfast before a particularly strenuous mission. Nawaki came to expect it after a while and took Mitsumi's generosity for granted. So whose fault was it, really, that one time Mitsumi didn't make breakfast and Nawaki felt weak for the rest of the day? Nawaki whined until Mitsumi told him to shut his yap.

They bickered sometimes, but it was never anything too serious. Nawaki never slapped her with a scathing, hurtful comment she couldn't recover from. She demanded he grow up and show some more maturity, but that wasn't an acidic retort. Teammates bickered sometimes; it was merely a fact of life. So why did she continue to torture herself with that same nagging thought: I was so mean to him?

The smell of egg, chopped pepper, onion, and ham filled the kitchen, slowly waking her up and creating a new fog to replace the mental one leftover from her dreary dream.

In her dream, Mitsumi lay on the hospital bed and stared listlessly at some pointless TV program. All she heard was white noise, even when Fugaku came by to talk to her. The whole world turned to static. She felt it in her body, heard it in her ears, and saw it in her eyes. Every last part of her, including her brain, felt like a foot that fell asleep.

'I haven't seen you in almost five months,' she realized, sprinkling some salt and pepper onto her creation. With the omelet plopped on her plate, all she had to do was clean up after eating.

Still in her cheery yellow bathrobe, Mitsumi pulled out a chair for herself and picked at her meal. Across from her, catching the attention of her brown eyes, was an empty chair. Lately, the only person who occasionally filled that chair was Kaede, but even those visits were becoming more infrequent.

'I know you're busy, but…'

…

"…but I wanted to make lunch for you." She'd dressed herself and combed all the tangles out of her unruly auburn hair. "You must be starving by now." Mitsumi held out the bento for her father, feeling the heat of the forge in the background. As cold as it was outside, Kinzo's workspace always felt like the heart of a volcano.

The heat reminded her of all the different Katon techniques Fugaku used on their old missions, back when they were still a team. Her mind wandered back with a faint whiff of nostalgia, remembering the earthy smell of ashes after they set an abandoned house alight as part of a reconstruction mission.

There was always security in heat, either from her father or her friend. "How about it, otou-san? Think you can spare twenty minutes or so to eat with me?"

Kinzo put his tools down and wiped his sweaty brow. "You didn't have to do that, sweetheart. I wanted to give you more time to sleep, so…" He pointed to a bento in the corner. "Don't worry about me, alright? I'm covered."

'That's not the point.' Instead of stating this aloud, Mitsumi slowly nodded her head and stepped out, leaving the meal behind.

Kinzo's hours had almost doubled, and he'd been a hardworking man for as far back as his daughter could remember. 'I know why.' Although he was too proud to state it outright, and probably wouldn't admit it to his daughter, Mitsumi strongly suspected this had everything to do with her resignation.

'It's because I quit.' All that extra income was now gone, not that genin ever made much. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father place a cool wet rag to his grimy brow. 'You look so tired…' Her heart pounded with guilt.

…

"As soon as I felt it, I ran back indoors, locked myself in the bathroom, turned out the lights, and took my top off. I saw the glow, Mitsumi. There was a glow, blue and beautiful and–" Kaede's cheeks turned rosy as she snorted out a mildly embarrassed giggle. "I had no idea my grandfather was bathing in there! He yelled at me, but I think he's proud. I mean, I'm proud!"

Somewhere along the way, they'd swapped roles. Kaede used to be the listener. That or she'd confide what was bothering her, thank Mitsumi for listening, and carry on as her quiet and sweet self. Lately, Mitsumi had been the melancholic one. She wasn't sure how it happened, but something finally galvanized her friend and surged her with new ambition and pride. This new Kaede was something the old one had never been: confident and sure of herself.

"You should be," Mitsumi agreed. They'd taken a stroll in the park together, watching the last of the autumn leaves fall to the ground. It made her think of one of their earliest missions, just her and Fugaku. They were given a D-Rank to rake leaves. When it was all over, they raced each other to see who could hit the big pile first. That boy seemed to float before he landed, sending leaves every which way. The dead things took flight in golds, rusts, and bronzes, only to hit the ground again and demand to be raked a second time.

Now some newer genin were doing that. 'Enjoy it while you can,' the freckled girl thought, a tiny smile passing her lips. "You're growing into a strong kunoichi, Kaede. Your whole clan's going to be proud."

"I doubt that," Kaede growled under her breath. "So long as my mother insists on training Yuka instead of me, I have a rival." And Mitsumi knew how hot Kaede's hatred for Yuka burned. She'd known about it since preschool.

As Kaede continued to talk, it didn't matter how much her eyes lit up or her face took on a flustered and happy hue. Mitsumi couldn't shake the white noise. All Kaede's chatter turned into static. Somewhere in that blur, Mitsumi remained lucid enough to nod along and offer a word or two in agreement with everything coming from her friend's mouth, not that she believed Kaede cared or noticed.

A vending machine at the edge of the park dragged her back to the present. Mitsumi stopped walking and felt a tiny bit of warmth in her heart. "Hey…Kaede…remember this place?"

"Hm?" Kaede had half-squatted to grab her bottle of sweet coffee from the vending machine. She tossed a can of melon soda to Mitsumi as a treat. Mitsumi's reflexes hadn't gone slack over the past few months. She caught the can with one hand. That came as a pleasant surprise to both. "We come here all the time."

"We chose to meet here for Mikuro's birthday last year," Mitsumi reminded her, sitting on the park bench. "It was the first snow of the year." They could see the Hokage Mountain in the background. "We were all together, all of us…"

"So we were." There was a slightly guarded tone in Kaede's voice. "What's your point?"

"Mikuro got really mad over something. He sloshed hot tea all over Fugaku and…" It wasn't right to have a case of the giggles, but she couldn't shake them. "We used to get riled up over the stupidest things, didn't we? If we'd known that one of us wouldn't be there by that following August, then–"

Kaede wasn't amused. Her arms were folded, her brow furrowed. "Fugaku came home with scalds on his chest and our clan head had a panic attack. And Mikuro-kun was aiming for Nawaki because Nawaki insulted his father." The way she said Nawaki's name…it sounded like a swear word and had about as much impact on her friend. "You find that funny? What's wrong with you?"

"I'm just missing certain people, Kaede. There's no reason to get so wound up."

"That whole thing was Nawaki's fault," Kaede snapped. "You didn't see Kazusa-taichou afterward. You didn't see Mikuro-kun afterward. You don't…you have no idea…"

'You like him,' Mitsumi realized. She saw it in Kaede's ruddy face and heard it in her overly defensive tone. 'I don't know why you do. He's an ass, but there it is. You like him.' And suddenly it struck her as unfair and cruel that, if this were true, Kaede chose to date the other teammate. Did that poor boy even know? She may have liked Kaede's new confidence, but she didn't like this new streak of selfishness that came along with it.

And Kaede wasn't finished. "Did you ever stop to wonder why no one other than your team liked that kid?" They had some very nice kids in their class who made a point to invite Nawaki along, but most were too nice to admit what they really felt. "He said things when he really shouldn't have and he kept secrets from people who trusted him."

"Kaede, he's dead. If he upset you, it's not like he can apologize to you now. There's no point in–"

"You didn't like him until he died, either," Kaede hissed, pointing an accusatory finger at her friend, "so stop acting like you did! You aren't fooling anybody."

Mitsumi squeezed her soda can, feeling the cool aluminum slightly crunch. If she squeezed it too hard, it would burst, but what gave Kaede the right to talk to her like this? They were friends, for heaven's sake! "He's dead. That changes everything. Don't you have any respect for the dead?"

A dry, mocking laugh left Kaede's lips as she opened her coffee and took a swig. When she laughed like that, she sounded exactly like her mother. "Oh, I do, but I'm only going to give them the same amount of respect I gave them in life. It isn't like Senju Nawaki died and became a saint, Mitsumi. You shouldn't remember him as anything more than a loud and annoying crybaby who babbled about being Hokage and used my cousin as a novelty friend.

"I remember a certain someone inviting me out for sushi, just so she could complain when she found out Nawaki was gonna be on her team," Kaede seethed. "I remember about one fourth of our sleepovers turned into you ranting and raving about your team, and it was never about my cousin."

"Kaede, you're–" Did Kaede have any idea how hurtful this was? Right before the end, Mitsumi wanted to believe that she and Nawaki were starting to be friends. He'd come over for breakfast sometimes. When he said something that crossed the line and upset her, he'd apologize.

But there was some bitter truth in what Kaede had to say and it was a truth Mitsumi didn't want to face. Maybe she hadn't liked him and that made her feel like the most horrible person on the planet…and that was probably why she gave Kaede a push strong enough to knock her to the ground.

Kaede stared up at her with big wet eyes, stunned that her best friend would physically shove her like this. "I just want you to stop torturing yourself so I can have my friend back. Mitsumi, I…"

Mitsumi wanted to scream. She wanted to shout all kinds of awful things at Kaede, just so she'd know these words weren't welcome. Kaede wanted her friend back. "I'm still your friend, Kaede. I've been here this whole time." And yet it felt as though the rest of her old world wanted to move on without her. "You can tell the others that, too."

As she walked away, she could hear Kaede crying, whimpering apologies and that she didn't mean it. Please don't be mad, she'd always say.

She had no idea Nawaki used to say the same exact thing.

…

"Is anyone coming with you this time? Kaede-chan, perhaps?"

The sushi chef behind the bar counter, Watanabe Arata, was practically an old friend by now. Mitsumi used to come here with Kaede after Kunoichi Preschool and Academy at least once a week as a treat for good grades. After losing her mother, coming out here became even more important to her. She'd come to rely on her best friend's company, perhaps far too much.

Though now it dawned on her that maybe Kaede relied too much on her, too. Please don't be mad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! The words rang in her head until it hurt, but she kept a calm face for the old man behind the counter.

"Or your teammates?"

Last February, she introduced Fugaku and Nawaki to this little hole in the wall. Nawaki stuffed his face and proclaimed it the best unagi he'd ever put in his mouth. Fugaku and Tohru had given business to a different sushi bar for years. Fugaku admitted this to Mitsumi, but conceded this one met his standards, too. They'd then devolved into a petty half-hearted argument, mostly for the sake of playful debate. Fugaku loved debate and so did Mitsumi, if only to see Fugaku's slightly-playful side come out.

'You liked it here,' she thought, her heart performing an unwanted backflip. "Kaede and I had a fight today," she admitted, "and I haven't seen Fugaku since I left the hospital." Old Man Arata appeared shocked beyond belief. "I'm by myself this time. Is that alright, Arata-san?"

"Out of all the kids who come here for sushi, you've always been a personal favorite," Arata teased. "Why would I mind? So, what will it be this time? Your usual crunchy crab roll, or something a bit more adventurous?" Mitsumi murmured that Arata could surprise her, placing out the money in advance for the food. She knew how much she wanted.

"Did you know? We tried our best to meet together at least once a week, just to catch up and see how everyone's doing." Her voice started to crack as she stared down at her brewing pot of jasmine tea. This time, even the most delicious scent in the world couldn't cheer her up. "I miss them so much. I don't know if they've dumped me or if they stopped altogether, but we haven't met since Nawaki died. It's like I lost more than my teammate. I've lost everyone."

And it was Mitsumi's turn to pick the place. She'd bring everyone to Watanabe Sushi the instant the tradition gained momentum again, assuming it ever would. "I'm falling out of touch and I'm not sure how much of it's my fault. I've tried a few times, but maybe I haven't tried hard enough. Or maybe they can't relate to me anymore and all I do is bring up bad memories."

They just carried on with their lives. Kaede's world consisted of preparing for the Chūnin Exams, going on dates with a boy who had no clue she didn't love him back, and practicing her family's secret techniques. Fugaku set himself up with a brand new team only weeks after the funeral. Mikuro wouldn't even make eye contact with her.

"Did I tell you? After I lost one teammate, my other one set up a new team." Sure, she'd told Fugaku that she had no plans of coming back as a kunoichi, but that hadn't meant she'd stick to that forever. Lately, she'd considered taking a few decryption assignments at home, just for some extra income and to keep her best skill sharp, but she was too proud to tell Fugaku that.

But maybe she'd admit it to him the next time he visited. He hadn't in five months. "I'm not expecting anyone," she murmured, almost like a mantra. 'And even if I do come back, there's no place for me by your side anymore.'

…

Old Man Arata prepared a second roll for Mitsumi as a surprise, placing it in a takeout box along with a packet of low-sodium soy and a wad of wasabi and pickled ginger. She'd thanked him and even gave the old man a hug as a token of thanks.

Perhaps tomorrow she could have a heart-to-heart with Kaede and tell her exactly what she'd done to trigger so much rage. Kaede never experienced the death of a close companion. She was best friends with somebody with a dead mother, a dead cat, and a dead teammate. Death was a very sensitive thing for Mitsumi and a little sensitivity to the situation was all she asked for…and Kaede didn't give it.

Maybe tomorrow, she'd work up the nerve to track Fugaku down when his mission with Team Buyo concluded and confess to him that he was the person she missed the most. She thought about the leaf raking mission again and how playful his smile used to be. Was he even capable of smiling like that anymore? Would his new teammates see it? Mitsumi looked down at the sushi and sighed. 'I feel as though you've given up on me. Can't you come over, just once? I want to talk about this. It's why I haven't moved on. If I…'

If she could see him again and put all her cards on the table, then maybe they could move on. It never would be the same as it was before. They still had a hole between them that couldn't be patched up and restored. And yet she still wanted to be a part of his life somehow, even if she could only do so as a civilian friend.

'I want you to see me and come up with some sort of solution. I'm at a loss for ideas, but if you show up…if you just show up…'

A light yellow envelope caught her attention, stuck to her bedroom window. Picking it up, she noted that (despite being addressed to her) the sender remained anonymous. "Curiouser and curiouser," she murmured under her breath, placing the envelope above her takeout box so she could take everything into the Shinohara home with one fell swoop.

Who sent her the note? What was it about? Considering the whole letter was written in code, whoever sent it knew where her field of expertise used to be. It couldn't hurt to give it one more go and keep those skills sharp.

Old Man Arata's sushi went into the refrigerator and a can of soda came out, accompanying the Shinohara girl and her mystery note to her bedroom. The door closed, causing Mitsumi's Genius At Work sign to bounce.

Kaede told her a few times that a tidy room was the sign of a messy mind. Maybe there was some truth to this because Mitsumi only started keeping it this pristine after she came back from the hospital. There wasn't much to do other than clean, so she'd gone overboard. The whole room smelled like strawberries, save for the musty window unit leaving little damp clouds on the interior of her window.

In the corner, she found her desk and opened the envelope all the way to see the full letter. It was four pages long and far from the most complicated code she'd encountered. This letter would take her a couple of hours at most, but it was the thought that counted, right? She sat down, cracked her fingers, and quickly got to work.

As she began, it dawned on her how much she used to love decryption. That old spark felt rekindled in her chest as she wrote deciphered letters and words in her notebook. Bit by bit, piece by piece, she'd solve this puzzle and get the biggest thrill out of it. The mysteries of the earth were hers to unravel again and even if this note turned out to be a cry for help, she'd be grateful to the sender for thinking about her enough to encrypt it.

The white noise at long last dissipated. Somewhere along the way, Mitsumi realized she'd been humming a tune under her breath and jiggling her leg. The numbness and that big black ugly cloud felt less intense. For now, at least, she felt like her old self: the mystery-loving problem solver who could think her way out of nearly any situation.

'Except landmines,' she thought darkly.

By 1:00 AM, Mitsumi was exhausted, but at least she decoded the message and knew who the sender was. Her heart wanted to reach through the paper.

Mitsumi,

We've fallen out of touch and it's my fault. Most of my time has gone toward my new team and completing more missions. I have a legitimate sensei now: a highly decorated jōnin from the Aburame Clan. I also have two new teammates I want to introduce to you someday (though I'm convinced you'll only like Hizashi).

I wrote this in code because I remembered how much you used to love decryption and solving puzzles. I learned a little bit after you resigned so I can have at least a few of your skills still at my disposal. It's almost like having you here, but not quite.

That said, I know you don't plan to come back to active duty. I don't want this letter sound like I'm trying to guilt trip you into coming back, so I hope you won't interpret it that way. You made your wishes very clear, but that doesn't mean I want to write a friend as kind, considerate, and honest as you out of my life. If my absence made you think I don't want to be friends anymore, then I'm truly sorry.

If you want to meet somewhere to catch up (and maybe meet my new team), please write me back. If you don't want that, just don't reply. I'll get the message either way.

Your former teammate but forever your friend,
Fugaku

'Leave it to you to fan my old fires, you dork,' she thought, smiling through her tears. She was moved. If anyone could rekindle a passion in her, this boy could. He'd done it before and he'd done it again.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day she'd step into the central office for the village and ask the Konoha Council to reinstate her exclusively to the Cryptography Corps. In time, she could tiptoe her way back to full duty once she felt herself ready.

For now, all she felt comfortable with were symbols and numbers. Symbols and numbers weren't going to go up in flames and fall in front of you with body parts missing. But it was a start.

Gods, was it a start!