I unrolled the scroll to read it for the dozenth time, as if I hadn't already memorized it after the first.
"Tonight. 23:30. The room of abandoned meetings. Do not 'pass'. - S. N."
He thinks he's so cool with his mysterious notes and his refusal to just provide an address.
I looked again at the elaborate lettering, hand-written in large, thick script on paper that smelled lightly of tobacco smoke and sandalwood. He had added a dramatic flair to his signature, a habit I knew he only indulged in when sending personal communications.
The problem is that he's right. I'm not going to tell him that though.
It was 23:28. I rolled the scroll back up, tucked it into my pocket, and leapt down to street level. I carefully tried the door handle and found it unlocked.
Good, that's the least he could do.
I stepped into the dark room, barely lit by the few streetlights that managed to seep in through the dingy windows on one side of the meeting room. Someone had left one open.
I suppose that's how he got in.
A single glowing ember brightened in the darkness. Its tiny, severe red light illuminated the tired face behind it. Shikaku removed the cigarette from his lips, exhaled slowly, then gestured to the folding chair that he had opened and sat across from his own. I approached him, but did not sit. He spoke without prompting.
"Suzumebachi Kamizuru."
I've seen that name before.
I matched my tone to his, a low murmur that was barely louder than a whisper.
"If you want me to role play with you, I'm going to need more than just a name~. What's my character, my motivation?"
"Role play, eh?"
He chuckled without any of his usual humor, then continued.
"Alright. I'll play the hard boiled detective on his second 'one last job before I'm out of the game for good' case. You'll play the soon to be jilted lover, who has realized their new partner is simply too good to be true and who relies on me to investigate his connections. That sound good?"
"It's a bit cliche for me."
"And yet you're here. Take a seat."
"I'd rather stand."
He looked me over, lines on his forehead creasing deeply in concern. He took another deep drag off his smoke and then waived his hand at me dismissively.
"Suit yourself. So, Ms. Kamizuru. Soon to be Mrs. Aburame, so my sources say."
Shino's engaged? He's too young for that.
"You look shocked. That's right, Mr. Perfect is engaged. Didn't he tell you?"
WAIT, SHIBI IS ENGAGED!?
I dropped heavily into the chair across from him, scooting it back a bit to avoid bumping into his legs. He sighed, lip twitching up into a mirthless smirk.
He always smiles when he's giving bad news…
"I guess not, huh? I do recall trying to warn you. The heads of clans have certain responsibilities. Certain roles. And that frequently means…well, you know the rest."
I barely registered his words.
Of course he's engaged, why wouldn't he be? I saw the letter. I knew what it meant. It's the same as it was with Shikaku. But at least Shikaku told me. Shibi has been hiding it this whole time.
I felt the world growing hazy and unfocused around me. I dropped my gaze to my feet, willing the swelling wave of nausea to subside. Shadows danced beneath me, swirling steadily between my chair and his. I looked up and caught his sympathetic gaze.
"How long has he…" I started, but couldn't finish my question.
That doesn't really matter.
"I was not able to discern that, but at least three years. And the Kamizuru clan is growing impatient."
I began to hyperventilate. I shot up out of my chair, accidentally knocking it backwards. Shikaku's shadows shot out and caught it before it clattered to the ground. He manipulated the chair until it sat it up across from his own.
Three years? Longer than…us? Is there an 'us'? I always knew this was coming, but to hide it from the start?
"Hey, relax. Don't make any silly mistakes."
Shikaku's arm stretched out towards me from where he sat. His shadow followed, casting its own particular shade of void-black. Its all-encompassing darkness crept across the room towards me and wrapped around my feet, crawling slowly along. Its soothing chill caressed its way up my body, massaging and pressing the muscles along my legs…my back…my arms…I swayed unsteadily.
"The whole time?"
"Poor thing, you really didn't know. Not everyone is going to be as up front as I was. I'm sorry."
He stood up, chair scratching against the ground behind him.
I should have known. Shikaku warned me, but I didn't listen. No one else will tell me the truth like him. No one else will ever be like him.
He took another pull on his cigarette and stepped towards me, exhaling down towards my chest. The smoke rolled off of me in a cloud, drifting in front of my eyes between us. I leaned towards him like an addict, barely kept upright by the shadows that bound themselves around me, pulling me back.
"Shikaku…"
His face softened. His eyes shone first with vulnerability, then with hunger.
"I've been dying to hear you say my name like that again."
He reached his hand out towards me again, his palm turned to cup my cheek. I closed my eyes and waited for the heat of his skin against my own.
Just one touch. Just one more time. Then I'm done for good.
Instead, I heard a soft "shit, night watch is early" and felt myself being flung towards the ceiling. I stuck myself to the corner just as the lights clicked on. The familiar buzz of the fluorescent bulbs and the "What was going on here?" from the night watchman were enough to cover the noise of me creeping out of the door the guard had opened. By the time I left I could barely feel Shikaku's chakra signature fading into the night.
It's for the best. He always knows what's best.
