"Can I speak with you for a moment?"
They leave the patient quarters and enter a waiting room by the hallway's extremity.
"Your comrade, she has sustained a considerable amount of internal bleeding. There are multiple ruptures in her lower abdominal region, and I can see that certain areas have healed over many times. However, the issue is the fibrosis, which is the scarring that results from the healing of damaged tissues. That can interfere with the functioning of her organs. She also has tiny fractures in her ribs and along her collarbone, but they should recover with time. I've placed her on a three-week course of short term medication to combat the infection, but she will need to be checked again on return to Konoha," he pauses, then gazes out the windows, "you know, the affliction against her is one of the worst I have ever seen. The fact that her body has sustained this much damage over such an extensive period is inconceivable. I'm surprised she is even standing."
His speech blurs like a memory fog. There may be traces of remorse he hears, but Shisui does not give consideration for pity. He likes to think of Honoka as someone who has endured adversities for the sole purpose of protecting her village, rather than a victim caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Can you please sign this to acknowledge we have spoken?"
He passes the consent files to Shisui.
"Thank you, doctor. Will she be well enough to leave hospital soon?" Shisui asks.
"She should be okay to leave, but ensure she gets plenty of rest."
x
They spend the rest of the afternoon at the town's rest area. Honoka may continually stress the importance of their mission, but Shisui is insistent on her recovery. A turn of the tables it seems, considering the urgency of their assignment. But Shisui's take on leadership is the safety and wellbeing of his comrades. Completion of a mission comes second.
"Shisui, I am certain this will not take very long, as I have already written up the formulas needed to test the toxicity in the waters."
She pulls out a pocket notebook and shows him a list of complicated looking formulas.
"I'm sorry, Honoka, but I wouldn't understand what they mean even if you show them to me, so no, I do stand firm on my orders that you rest here for a little while longer."
She stares blankly at him for several seconds, then speaks in the same manner as her expression.
"Shisui, may I ask you to define a little while longer?"
And without awaiting a reply, she pulls out another larger notebook that contains numerous columns of set tasks, the expected duration of each activity, its anticipated completion date, the day, and time.
"I…"
He stares incredulously at the way she flicks to today's date and erases an entire row of activities across two pages.
"…what are you doing?" he continues confoundedly.
"Shisui, I am re-shuffling the rest of today's agenda," she points to the deleted times, "as you can see, in this very moment here, we are supposed to be at the rivers completing our assigned mission, but unfortunately we are unable to do so. This is despite adding an extra thirty minutes of contingency time to the list. Therefore, I will need you to please clarify with me on what a little while longer means."
Then she places her hands over her notebook and stares inquisitively at him.
He forgets how methodical she can be. To the outside world, this systematic way of living is perhaps more of an impediment to social integration than anything, but he sees the added value and the intrigue it brings to his otherwise emotionally focused world.
"I don't know how I am able to measure that, and then quantify it, but normally I would say approximately twenty-four hours-"
He stops when she raises a hand.
"Excuse me, Shisui, may I interrupt you there," she pauses and gives a resolute look, "I must deny your comment. You say you are unable to provide a concrete measurement, which means I will not be able to complete said agenda," she briefly raises the notebook, "therefore, this is an enormous problem. If the day is not filled out, then how must we know what to fill time with it?"
Her tone has an element of reproach beneath that thickened layer of monotony. And it may be his inability to fully decipher Honoka's vacant emotions, but he gets the instinct she is fearful of the uncertainty.
"Does it have to be filled?"
Her response is a fluctuating expression of disconcertment and confusion.
"Time exists to be filled."
The tone denotes her firm stance on the matter. She does not elaborate on her words, and for this reason, he finds the issue unsettling. Structure and routine may dictate Honoka's way of life, but he did not expect the rigidity. He sees her as someone who strives to understand, to question, to learn and to make changes, yet there are components to her he may never comprehend.
When he remains in contemplative silence, Honoka continues.
"May I suggest an idea?"
"Go ahead."
"Would you care for a game of chess, Shisui?" she pulls out a small wooden box from the depths of her bag, "biologically speaking, when the body is under physical constraints, energy is diverted from lesser important parts of the body to accelerate healing. Higher order functioning, such as cognition is often first to go. Chess is a game that requires intensive concentration, logic, and the use of cognition. If I can achieve a win, that would strongly suggest that I am physically healthy enough to complete the mission now. There is clear scientific evidence to back this up, with a proper methodology and analysis of results. Shisui, what do you think of my suggestion?"
She speaks fast, and with such remarkable dullness, his mind is roughly three seconds behind.
He does not often allow for leniency when it comes to health and wellbeing, but he is notably impressed with Honoka's pragmatic proposition.
"I'll make an exception," he sighs.
x
She gets the job done. Less than thirty minutes it would seem, but that does not detract from the nervous glance he gives when passers-by are staring curiously at the enormous makeshift lab. For someone as orderly as Honoka, he finds her disarrayed workstation jarring. And this does not discount the almost unlimited space she gets from being in a large unimpeded area by the riverbank.
"Shisui, here is the completed sample analysis," she hands him a green coloured test tube, "and this one here is the toxin neutraliser I have prepared," she gives him a clear coloured test tube.
When they submit the tests to the town council, their mission is complete.
"We made it before evening," Shisui says.
He breathes a long, resigned sigh.
They spend the next hour perusing the night markets and alleviating their minds of the day's strenuous work.
Sometime along their walk, Honoka suddenly turns and gazes sceptically between Shisui and the concrete grounds before her.
"Is everything okay?" he asks warily.
She frowns.
"Shisui, I have been thinking for the past hour or so, but regarding our earlier game of chess, I believe that was a spectacular loss on your end."
Her tone is blunt and earnest.
"Do you really have to put it that way?" he replies tentatively.
They are momentarily silent. Honoka is still staring pensively.
"Well, I was pretty exhausted after a big morning, so a rematch would be good," he continues.
He is not sulking. At all.
"Hmm," she presses a hand to her chin, "yes, but I am still remarkably impressed by how bad you were," she says thoughtfully.
"You have no shame do you," he says.
They stop by a stall that sells an array of soft toys.
"I just remembered, I need to get a present for my cousin's birthday, wait here," Shisui says.
When he returns several minutes later, Honoka is hovering somewhere at the stall's end section. There is an immense look of interest that grazes her features, and for the very first time, Shisui sees a differing set of emotions that is not awash with impassivity.
He approaches and observes with heightened interest.
"Do you like turtles?" he asks.
She drops the turtle plush keyring in surprise.
"Yes, very much so," she answers, "I do appreciate how they are able to carry their house everywhere they go."
The statement is significant, and he feels it from the very depth of his core. Honoka is by no means metaphorical, but he gets the underlying meaning and the value it holds around her need for safety and protection.
"Here," he takes the keyring and hands it to her, "this time, it's a gift. For all your hard work today."
x
Honoka names the turtle Ko, as she so proudly announces en route to their rest area. For the past ten minutes, Shisui has been finding it difficult to dissuade her watch from the keyring. Several times he saves her from an unsightly fall, others from walking straight into poles or disgruntled people.
"Honoka, you need to watch where you're going," Shisui says.
He keeps his tone patient, and his composure steady.
"Shisui, have a look at this," she points to her blouse's front left pocket, "Ko can now see what we see."
There is a perturbing element to the scenario before him. If it were anyone that is not Honoka, the excitement of such proclamation would coincide with a set of jovial expression. But hers is that inanimate look, together with the very monotonous speech he is so used to hearing.
And yet he sees it, beneath the multitude of apathetic emotions, there is a glint of happiness and contentment.
"Yes, it's got two homes now," he gazes uncertainly at the turtle, and the way its head protrudes from the top of Honoka's pocket.
From that point onwards, their leisurely evening ends.
On return to the rest area, there is a group of about six people huddled around a shorter, older man. He is deep in conversation with someone they cannot see, and when he turns his gaze, he pauses at Shisui and Honoka.
"Ah, Honoka," he says.
His tone elicits a disturbing component of unease that insinuates an underlying motive.
Beneath Honoka's vacant watch, the glint is now gone.
"Lord Mizuku," she says quietly.
Not again.
Without thought, Shisui takes her hand and drags her down the streets to a secluded alleyway. Through a tapered opening between two dilapidated buildings, he forces them both in.
"What-" Honoka starts.
But Shisui steps close and presses a hand to her mouth. He raises a finger to his lips by way of keeping them both quiet.
They hear the approaching footsteps and the frantic disperse of ninjas on hunt.
"I saw them run through here, but I can't see them," they hear a ninja call.
"Check the other alleyway," another says.
The footsteps fade.
They remain in the space for several long seconds, until Shisui peers cautiously from the gaps and signals the all-clear.
He takes her hand again and together they navigate the dizzying matrix of decaying buildings.
"They're coming back, I can hear them," Shisui says.
He pulls Honoka into another small opening.
"Stay close," he whispers.
And he does not think of his actions or how Honoka's thought process vastly differs from his. He steps in and holds her against him to minimise the echoes.
"I sense chakra somewhere down here," a ninja says.
"Take that side, I'll search here."
The footsteps fade again.
"They're really looking for you, aren't they?" Shisui whispers.
When he detaches from Honoka, there is a peculiar look to her features, as if she is revisiting a mixture of unpleasant and confusing memories.
Beneath her fingers, she clutches the front of his shirt and does not unlatch even at his gentle persuasion.
"Lord Mizuku has an astronomical amount of power and wealth. What he wants is what he gets, there is no question," Honoka says.
She averts to the ground.
"I am…so very tired," she continues vacantly.
And he comprehends the statement and the raft of meaning attached to every word.
Between the fractured look of her impassive gaze, he sees the apprehension and the exhaustion, then the wet eyes that are so discordant against the backdrop of her vacuous expression.
"Shisui, I cannot defy an order," she says lifelessly.
"Our mission is complete, so there is nothing binding us here. We will leave before he can give you an order," Shisui replies firmly.
She nods tentatively.
"Honoka," he instinctively holds her face, "I'll protect you, so please have faith in me."
She gives a faltering smile, then points to her top pocket.
"And Ko too will protect me."
He softens.
"Yes, Ko too."
A/N: Dear Readers, I've had a few people ask me about the connection this story has to my other one - On The Road With Time.
This Day Tomorrow is the second instalment of a three part series. It is also the prequel to On The Road With Time, which is the first instalment. All three series are from the same universe but can be read as standalone fics. In other words, you don't have to read the first instalment to understand the second instalment. I made them all standalone because of the differing ships and characters. The first one involves ObiRin (and some very minor TobiDei for a bit of drama), so if you are interested in this ship, you can pop onto my profile and click on the story (I am unable to post direct links on FFN).
If you do decide to read all three series, you will notice a few overlaps and some further extrapolations on certain components of the story you otherwise wouldn't know about.
The third and final series is yet to be finalised and will follow on from the first two stories.
P.S I can confirm that Rin makes a cameo appearance with Orochimaru in Chapter 30 of this story.