System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 266: Chapter 265: The Taste of Departure

---Konoha - The Kenway Compound - West Wing---

Haku stood in the center of his room, the soft morning light beaming through the glass windows. His travel bag lay open on the bed, half-packed.

A week had passed since he had moved into the compound. It had been a week of intense, mind-bending study in Fuinjutsu, of quiet evenings listening to Alaric banter with Jiraiya, and of realizing just how much he still had to learn.

But today, the lessons paused. Today, they were to leave to God knows where.

”Clothes... check. Kunai... check. Senbon... triple check,” Haku murmured, ticking items off a mental list.

He picked up a small, tightly wound scroll. Inside were weeks’ worth of rations... high-calorie soldier pills and dried meats. He had prepared them meticulously the night before.

’Hmm... this should be enough,’ Haku thought, weighing the scroll in his hand. ’We will be gone for a year. Sensei said we would be traveling, but he didn’t say where. Best to be prepared for anything.’

He sealed the scroll with a small puff of smoke and tucked it into the inner pocket of his teal kimono. He checked his reflection in the mirror. He looked ready and composed.

He looked around the room one last time before picking up his bag and pushed the door open.

---

Haku walked through the silent corridors of the West Wing, his footsteps light. The house was quiet. Jiraiya and Naruto had left a week ago to find Tsunade, leaving the massive estate feeling even larger.

He crossed the covered walkway to the main hall. The smell hit him first.

It wasn’t the smell of old wood or incense. It was the rich, savory aroma of seared meat, garlic, and rosemary.

Haku’s stomach gave a traitorous rumble.

He followed the scent into the dining room.

The long table, capable of seating twenty, was empty save for one place setting at the head. Covered by a glass cloche was a plate. Beside it sat a note written in elegant writing.

Fuel up. Let’s meet at the village gates.

Haku smiled. He approached the table and lifted the glass cover.

Steam wafted up, carrying a scent so divine it almost made his knees weak. It was a steak... thick, perfectly seared with a dark, glossy crust, resting on a bed of creamy mashed potatoes and glazed vegetables.

It looked simple. But Haku knew better.

Alaric didn’t do simple.

Haku sat down, picking up the knife and fork. He cut a small piece of the meat. It was tender, offering almost no resistance. He put it in his mouth.

And there it was... Explosion.

Flavor coated his tongue... rich umami, the sharpness of black pepper, the sweetness of the glaze, and a hint of something smoky and magical that Haku suspected was chakra-infused seasoning.

”Mmm...” Haku closed his eyes, savoring the bite.

It wasn’t just food. It was comfort. It was energy. It was paradise on a plate.

’because of Sensei’s cooking, everything else is just... edible,’ Haku thought, taking another bite of the buttery potatoes. ’Sensei’s cooking... it is art. It ruins me for other food.’

He ate with relish but maintained his manners, finishing every scrap on the plate. He felt a warmth spread through his limbs... the Ashura no Mon seal humming in appreciation as the nutrients were absorbed instantly.

Once finished, he carried the plate to the kitchen. He washed it, dried it, and placed it in the rack.

”Thank you for the meal,” Haku said to the empty room.

He grabbed his bag, adjusted his sash, and walked out the front door. The heavy timber gates of the compound swung open automatically as he approached, and closed silently behind him.

---Konoha - Main Gate---

The village gates were busy with morning traffic. Merchants were leaving, patrols were returning, and civilians were heading out to the fields.

Leaning against the gatepost, chatting with the two eternal guards, was Alaric.

He wore his signature crimson coat, looking out of place among the standard flak jackets. He was laughing at something Kotetsu had said, looking relaxed and completely unbothered by the fact that he was technically abandoning his post as a Jonin for a year... no... three years.

”So I told her,” Kotetsu was saying, ”it’s not about the size of the kunai, it’s how you throw it!”

Izumo groaned. ”That is the worst pickup line I have ever heard.”

”It worked though!” Kotetsu insisted.

”Did it?” Alaric grinned, flicking ash from his cigar. ”Or did she just pity you?”

”Cruel, Alaric-san! Cruel!”

Haku approached them, his steps silent until he was just a few meters away.

”Good morning,” Haku announced.

Izumo and Kotetsu jumped, their hands flying to their weapons before they realized who it was.

”Gah!” Izumo clutched his chest. ”Haku! Don’t do that!”

”You guys really need to work on your sensory skills,” Alaric chuckled, pushing himself off the gatepost. He looked Haku up and down. ”Fed? Packed? Ready to suffer?”

Haku nodded, his expression serious but his eyes bright. ”Yes, Sensei. The steak was... exceptional.”

”Glad you liked it. It was A5 Wagyu from the market. Don’t get used to it; we’re eating bear meat for the next week.”

Alaric turned to the guards. ”Alright, boys. Try not to let the village burn down while I’m gone.”

”We’ll try,” Kotetsu saluted. ”Safe travels!”

Alaric turned his back on the village. He didn’t look at the Hokage Monument. He didn’t look at the busy streets. He just looked at the open road stretching into the forest.

”Let’s go,” Alaric said.

Haku nodded, falling into step beside him.

They walked out of the gates, two figures... one towering and red, one slender and teal... heading into the vast, unknown world.

---Hokage’s Office---

In the circular office at the top of the tower, Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his massive desk.

It was technically his lunch hour. A bento box prepared by his assistant sat unopened on the edge of the desk, the tea beside it long since gone cold. He wasn’t hungry. The knot in his stomach hadn’t loosened since the morning briefing.

The office was filled with the pungent, comforting scent of tobacco smoke. Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, puffing rhythmically on his pipe, staring at the ceiling where the shadows danced.

It had been hours since Alaric had sat in this very room... on a chair he grew out of the floorboards... and casually dismantled Hiruzen’s world view.

The chakra of Minato and Kushina inside the seal. A fail-safe of love.

The death of Danzo. A fail-safe of violence.

Hiruzen closed his eyes, exhaling a thick plume of smoke. He had come to terms with the information, filed it away in the steel trap of his mind, but the emotional weight still lingered.

Danzo Shimura was gone. His rival. His shadow. His old friend... if he could still call him that after learning of the eyes embedded in that arm.

”Well...” Hiruzen muttered to the empty room, his voice rough. ”Not that it matters anymore. He chose his path in the darkness. I suppose it was only fitting he was consumed by a fire he couldn’t control.”

He sat up, adjusting his Hokage hat. He looked at the crystal ball resting on the red velvet cushion on his desk.

Telescope Technique.

He formed the hand seals. The crystal clouded over, then cleared, revealing the image of the village gates.

He saw them.

Alaric and Haku were walking away, their backs to the village. The crimson coat fluttered in the wind. They looked like travelers without a care in the world, not two of the most dangerous individuals in the Fire Nation.

’Alaric...’ Hiruzen thought, watching the blonde man’s stride. ’A mercenary turned Jonin. A landlord of the the former Uchiha District. A person so strong to fend off the Shodaime and Nidaime Hokage. You are a truly enigmatic person... but nonetheless, you helped Konoha so much already. Perhaps more than I deserved.’

As if hearing the thought, Alaric stopped walking.

Hiruzen watched in the crystal ball as Alaric paused mid-step.

For a split second, Alaric turned his head. He didn’t look back at the village walls. He didn’t look at the guards waving goodbye.

He looked up.

He looked directly at the invisible point of observation.

In the crystal ball, Alaric’s blue eyes stared straight out of the glass, locking onto Hiruzen’s own. It was impossible. The Telescope Technique was undetectable. It was a passive observation of chakra reflections.

Yet, Alaric saw him.

The blonde man tilted his head slightly. A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He raised two fingers to his forehead in a lazy, two-finger salute.

See ya, old man.

Then, he turned back around and vanished into the tree line with Haku.

The crystal ball went dark as they moved out of range.

Hiruzen sat frozen, his pipe hanging loosely from his lips. He blinked, a shiver running down his spine.

”He sensed it...” Hiruzen whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. ”Even from that distance. What kind of monster did I just give a hall pass to?”

He chuckled, a dry sound. ”Well. At least he’s on our side. Mostly.”

Knock. Knock.

The sharp rap on the door broke his stupor.

Hiruzen straightened up, clearing his throat and hastily shoving the cold bento box into a drawer. ”C-Come in!”

The heavy double doors swung open with force.

Standing in the doorway was a woman who radiated authority and annoyance in equal measure. She had long, blonde hair tied in two loose ponytails, a violet diamond mark on her forehead, and a figure that defied gravity. Behind her stood a younger woman with short black hair, clutching a small pig dressed in a pearl necklace.

”Sensei!”

Tsunade Senju stormed into the office, her heels clicking loudly on the floorboards. She slammed a hand onto his desk, leaning over him with a glare that could curdle milk.

”Why’d you even think of retiring!?” Tsunade shouted, the smell of sake faintly clinging to her breath despite the early hour. ”You’re still at your prime! Look at you! You could go another ten years easy!”

Shizune bowed apologetically from the doorway. ”I’m sorry, Lord Third! We tried to tell her...”

Oink. Tonton added her opinion.

Hiruzen looked at his student... the Slug Princess, the legendary Sannin, the woman Jiraiya had dragged back kicking and screaming to take his hat.

He slumped in his chair, feeling every day of his sixty-nine years.

Sigh.

’Out of the frying pan, into the fire,’ Hiruzen thought, looking at Tsunade’s fist, which had cracked his mahogany desk.

’I might have to guide her in her Hokage position... or she’s going to break the entire village before she fixes it.’

.

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