350-Prologue

"Well, look who finally decided to grace the world with his presence," Hiro greeted, his voice carrying a teasing lilt as he stood in the doorway. His familiar grin stretched wide across his face, and the lazy tilt of his posture betrayed his usual carefree attitude.

Without waiting for an invitation—because, of course, Hiro never waited—he stepped inside, brushing past Renjiro and letting the door click shut behind him.

"Don't mind me," he quipped, already making his way to the couch and sprawling across it like it was his own. His feet found their way to the coffee table, ankles crossed, and he leaned back, hands folded behind his head.

"You wouldn't believe the day I've had. But first, let's talk about you. You look like you've been hit by a cart."

Renjiro blinked at the sudden intrusion, his brow furrowing for a moment before he sighed and followed Hiro into the room. "Nice to see you, too Hiro," he muttered, closing the door and turning to face his uninvited guest.

"Seriously, though." Hiro turned his head slightly, giving Renjiro an exaggerated once-over. "What's with the long face? And don't tell me it's just your usual 'brooding ANBU' thing. You've got that look like someone just ate the last dango."

Renjiro leaned against the doorframe, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just tired."

Hiro's chuckle was immediate and hearty, his grin widening as he straightened up slightly. "Tired? That's your excuse? What on earth have you been doing all day?"

"Sleeping," Renjiro replied simply, his tone flat but laced with the faintest edge of amusement.

Hiro's laugh echoed through the room, loud and genuine. He slapped his knee for effect, shaking his head as if Renjiro had just told the most ridiculous joke. "Sleeping? All day? And that's what's got you so worn out? Man, I knew you were lazy, but this is next-level. Even for you!"

Renjiro rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself. "It's called recuperating, Hiro. Some of us actually work hard enough to need it."

Hiro raised a skeptical eyebrow, tilting his head slightly as if trying to gauge whether Renjiro was serious. "Recuperating from what, exactly? Something big happen?"

There was a pause as Renjiro weighed his response, his gaze dropping slightly. "Just got back from a mission," he said finally, his voice calm and measured.

Hiro's grin didn't waver, but his interest was evident as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "An ANBU mission, I take it?"

Renjiro nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah."

Hiro waved a hand dismissively, leaning back once more. "Say no more. I know how tight-lipped you ANBU types are. I'm surprised you even admitted that much."

The room fell quiet for a moment, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves outside as the evening breeze danced through the village. Renjiro moved to sit in the chair opposite Hiro, his posture relaxed but his eyes distant.

Hiro, never one for prolonged silences, filled the void with his usual bluntness. "Anyway," he began, his tone shifting to something a bit more serious, "I actually came here for a reason. I've got an A-rank mission lined up, and I could use an extra set of hands. One of my team members just dropped out—his wife had a baby, so he's out for now."

Renjiro tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. "And you thought of me?"

"Of course!" Hiro replied with a grin, gesturing broadly as if the answer were obvious. "It's short notice, and I figured you'd be a perfect fit. Plus, it's not every day I get to work with someone from our old genin squad. Thought it'd be fun to team up again, you know?"

Renjiro's smile faltered slightly as he shook his head. "Sorry, Hiro. I'm still recovering from my last mission. Can't take on anything else right now."

Hiro raised an eyebrow, his grin turning into a faint smirk. "What kind of injury takes that long to heal? Don't you have some ability that helps you heal fast?"

Renjiro waved a hand dismissively, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. "It's nothing serious. Just… orders to take it easy for a bit."

Even if Renjiro wanted to help Hiro out, he couldn't. He was not sure if he was in the best mental space for a mission. Besides there was also that whole matter with Kumo. While it was not explicitly said, Renjiro could read between the lines well enough to know that heading out of the village was a bad idea.

Hiro studied him for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to decipher the unspoken truth behind Renjiro's words. Finally, he shrugged and leaned back, the smirk returning. "Fair enough. Though I have to admit, I did think of Kakashi before coming to you."

Renjiro feigned a wounded expression, placing a hand over his chest as if struck. "Ouch, Hiro. All those years in the same genin team meant nothing to you, huh? Kakashi before me?"

Hiro burst out laughing, the sound filling the room with an infectious energy. "Hey, Kakashi's a genius! You can't blame me for trying my luck there first. But when he said no, I figured I'd give you a shot."

Renjiro shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite the teasing, there was an undeniable warmth in their exchange, a reminder of the camaraderie they had shared during their earlier days as teammates.

After a few more lighthearted jabs, Hiro stood, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied groan. "Well, I should get going. Don't want to leave my team hanging."

Renjiro rose as well, following him to the door. "Take care out there, Hiro. And try not to get yourself into too much trouble."

Hiro turned back with a grin, his hand on the doorframe. "You too, Renjiro. And try not to sleep the whole day away tomorrow, yeah?"

With a final wave, Hiro disappeared into the evening, his laughter lingering in the air long after he had gone. Renjiro stood in the doorway for a moment, watching the fading light of the sunset before retreating inside. The quiet of the house seemed almost oppressive now, the absence of Hiro's lively presence amplifying the stillness. Renjiro sank onto the couch, his gaze drifting toward the window as the sky outside deepened into a rich indigo, dotted with faint stars.

His thoughts turned inward, the weight of the previous night settling over him once more. The possibility of being the catalyst for the Third Shinobi War still loomed large in his mind, a storm cloud of guilt and dread. If tensions with Kumogakure escalated further, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"I might be standing at the Prologue of the Third Shinobi War," Renjiro muttered to himself, his voice barely audible. "Or worse… I might not even survive long enough to see it."

Renjiro shook his head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts. If he truly was caught in the gears of this world's brutal cycle, then he needed to be prepared. No matter what the future held, he wouldn't face it helplessly.

His eyes flicked to the mirror on the wall, catching his own reflection. His Sharingan shimmered faintly, a reminder of the power and responsibility he carried. The thought formed unbidden in his mind, chilling and resolute:

"If I can't trust the village… I need to make sure no one can use me as a pawn."

The decision crystallized in that moment, sharp and unyielding. Standing, Renjiro moved toward the place where he kept his jar of eyes. His hand hovered over his face.

He stared at his reflection once more, before gouging out one of his eyes.

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