Shinobi Isekai: Round Three

Pocketful of Sunshine

Han did his best not to yawn as the meeting continued. It had already gone longer than expected, but it showed no signs of ending. Iwa was officially pulling out of the region, leaving the moss covered forest to the Land of Fire. Han hadn't spent much time there—wasn't even supposed to leave the village, really, given his age—but he'd heard the stories. Disappearing battlefields, malfunctioning compasses and useless maps, a missing jinchuriki...

Roshi wasn't someone Han knew well, but he was one of the only people who willingly associated with him, their shared status as hosts for tailed beasts giving them a common ground despite the difference in their ages. When word reached Iwa that he had stopped reporting back to his handlers or even appearing on battlefields, something like concern had welled up inside Han. Panic had nearly rocked the village elders, but the Tsuchikage quelled their fears. If Roshi was dead, then the Yonbi would reappear somewhere in the next decade or so. If it didn't, then he was a deserter and by then Han would be old enough to hunt him down like the criminal he was.

Privately, in a horrible corner of his heart, Han hoped he was dead. The idea of hunting him down after he'd finally managed to escape was awful. If Han was free, then he wouldn't want Roshi to hunt him, either.

He tried, but he couldn't contain the yawn that stretched his sinuses.

"Enough," the commanding jounin said with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at Han. "Someone, get that thing out of here before it collapses. We have enough to deal with without a demon breaking loose."

A hand fell on his shoulder, firmly pulling him from the tent before he could think to explain that falling asleep wouldn't let the Gobi out of its seal. Night had fallen in the forest, but that somehow made it even weirder. Without the hustle and bustle of daytime activity, the eerie silence in the air was like a weight on everyone's shoulders. There were no insects chirping, no animals hunting, nothing. The only sounds were the ones the shinobi made themselves, the ones they were trained to hide using the ambient sounds of the world around them. It was so jarring to be so loud.

Han was led through the camp to the tent that was set up for him. His handler pushed him inside not ungently.

"Try and get some sleep," he was told. "There's no telling if you'll be needed tomorrow."

He wouldn't be. He wasn't allowed to engage with the enemy and no one wanted him to help pack up camp, so he would spend the day sitting around doing nothing. Again. There were children his age around and they made no secret of their resentment. They were fighting, but he had only just left the village for the first time in his life. It wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help feeling guilty.

"Psst, hey, Han."

He turned around in surprise. Roshi was standing at the back of the tent, a hand raised in front of his mouth to signal for silence. Relief flooded through Han as he beheld his fellow jinchuriki for the first time in almost a year. His red hair was longer than he remembered and there was a beard starting to take shape on his face. His purple clothing was somewhat frayed around the hems and he wasn't wearing his armor.

"What are you doing here?" Han whispered, stepping closer to keep others from hearing them. "They think you might be dead."

Roshi smiled, the expression more a baring of teeth. "They won't for much longer. Come on. We've got to go while they're busy."

Go? Go where?

His confusion must have been clear because Roshi reached out, grabbing the sleeve of his kimono and tugging him closer.

"Grab what you need and let's go. They won't be able to follow us, I promise."

That...was he...was he trying to help Han escape, too?