Chapter 40 something is off

We stayed in position through the night.

Every creak of wood, every flutter of leaves, every gust of wind felt sharper in the silence. The trap remained untouched. No scout. No saboteur. No sign of movement.

And still, we waited.

I cycled the Byakugan on and off throughout the hours, conserving chakra while keeping tabs on the perimeter. Arata never moved once from his branch. Koji barely shifted either, though Kuro curled up beside him in a tight, watchful ball. Haruto was so still I could have suspected he dozed off, but he didn't, he was just good.

It was a long night.

By dawn, the shadows began to lighten, and the weight of stillness pressed even heavier than before. I finally let out a slow breath, more frustration than relief.

"They didn't come," I muttered. "If they're monitoring, they're either patient—or they're somewhere else."

Haruto dropped lightly beside me, rubbing at his temple. "Or they were never close to begin with."

"Either way, we can't keep this up," I said. "We're exhausted. Running dry. We can't afford a fight like this."

Koji dropped down with a thud, landing heavier than usual. He didn't argue—just nodded. Kuro padded behind him, yawning wide.

Arata met us at the base. "No movement, no chakra, no sounds. Nothing the whole night."

I swept the area one final time with my Byakugan, then deactivated it with a short exhale. "We pull back. I want us in deeper cover, somewhere we can rest, recover chakra, and keep hidden. A fallback site, not a patrol perch."

Haruto nodded, his posture looser now. "I passed a rock outcropping two kilometers east on the way in. Overhang with dense tree cover. Water nearby."

"No," I said. "Too close to this, I want somewhere safe, or as safe as we can get, Koji, I trust you to find a spot, somewhere we won't get disturbed."

Koji blinked at me, surprised—but only for a second. Then he straightened, nodding once. "Alright. I'll find us something good."

Kuro gave a short bark, tail swishing as he turned sharply west, already sniffing the air with renewed focus.

"We'll sweep wide," Koji added. "Away from the trap lines, high ground if we can get it, near water if possible. Dense enough to stay hidden, dry enough to stay sane."

"Don't take risks," I warned. "If it doesn't feel right, keep moving."

He nodded again, more serious this time. "Got it."

"Standard formation, and stay alert, we might be tried, but our enemies might not be."

The others gave no verbal reply; Koji vanished into the canopy with a faint flicker of movement. And the rest of us followed right behind as we moved like a small group of silent ghosts.

Our feet barely touched the ground or the trees before we shot past them. Tried we might be, but we weren't slow; we still had plenty of energy, and we moved at a good pace, putting good distance between us and the area of enemy activity.

We kept moving for one hour, then two and three, time passed in a blur as we moved, winding through narrow gullies and skirting rocky ridges. The terrain grew more uneven, more overgrown—perfect for what we were looking for. Koji took point with Kuro weaving beneath him, nose low to the ground.

Eventually, Koji dropped low onto a narrow ledge tucked between two steep hills. "Here," he called quietly. "I think this might be it."

The rest of us landed nearby. I moved forward and scanned the area.

A natural dip in the terrain, flanked by sheer embankments on three sides. A stream trickled quietly just beyond the edge, narrow but steady. Thick foliage overhead. Good shade. No fresh animal tracks. No human scents either.

Haruto crouched down beside a moss-covered root and ran a gloved hand through the dirt. "Dry. No water pooling. Won't flood."

"Overhead coverage is good," Arata added. "Even aerial scouts would have a hard time seeing us."

I nodded. "Alright. This is it."

We fanned out, securing the perimeter, setting up basic motion threads, scent breaks, and visual markers. Nothing fancy. Just enough to buy us a few seconds if someone tried to get close unnoticed.

It was purely protocol, really, because with Koji and me here, there was little chance anyone getting that close without getting spotted. It was possible, so we still went through the effort, but it wasn't a true necessity.

Kuro was the first to collapse into the corner of the clearing with a heavy sigh, tail thumping once before he curled up against a rock.

"Drop gear, hydrate, eat something light, then rest in shifts," I ordered. "We've pushed hard. Don't let your guard drop, but you've earned a breather."

Koji leaned back against the side of a large tree, eyes already half-lidded. "Finally. I feel dead tired."

"If you have energy to complain, get over here and help me plan tomorrow's route," I called as I brought out the map again.

Koji groaned but stood anyway, brushing off his vest. "Yeah, yeah, coming."

He trudged over and sat down next to me, a little closer than necessary. Not that I minded. I unrolled the map across a flat patch of ground between us, weighing the corners down with a few spare kunai. The paper rustled faintly under our hands.

"Here's the perimeter we've covered," I said, pointing out the marked corridor of traps we had already mapped. "And here's where we are now."

Koji leaned in, eyes scanning the terrain lines. His shoulder bumped mine—just a light touch—but he flinched like I'd burned him, immediately shifting a few centimeters away. Then just as awkwardly, leaned back in like nothing had happened. I pretended not to notice, but my eyes flicked to him.

My fingers traced another ridge on the map. His hand reached toward the same spot, and for a second, our fingers met. His hand jerked back like he'd touched a live wire.

I paused.

That wasn't nothing.

"You alright?" I asked casually, not looking up.

"Fine," he said too quickly. "Just… didn't expect you to go for that spot too."

"Mmhmm." I didn't press. But I noticed the way his ears went a little pink under his hair.

I turned my attention back to the map and shifted my posture slightly, enough so our shoulders touched again—but this time, I didn't move.

He stayed frozen for a second. Then relaxed, just barely.

"We'll set this as our primary base," I said after a moment. "From here, I want to plan out outer watch posts—secondary outposts. A ring around this center. We work outward. Expand gradually."

Koji cleared his throat. "You want them all manned?"

At that I couldn't help but give him a confused look. What was going on in that head of his?

"Manned? By who? I want a few other camps, or at least stops we can rest at. About a day's travel from here, so we can go there, rest for the night, and go half a day out, then back to that spot." I slowly explained my plan to him.

Koji nodded quickly—maybe a bit too quickly. "Right. That makes more sense. Yeah, that's smart."

He leaned in again, this time more focused, tracing his finger along the map's winding riverlines and terrain ridges. "Then we'll want to mark a couple of choke points," he said, "places to intercept movement between valleys, maybe even set our own decoys later."

Our arms brushed again. He didn't flinch this time. But I felt the tension in his shoulder, just barely, like a bowstring drawn half-tight.

"Koji," I said, quieter now, not looking directly at him, "you're acting strange."

He blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"

I tilted my head slightly. "You tell me."

There was a beat of silence. His eyes didn't leave the map, but I saw his throat bob with a swallow.

"I just…" he started, then shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "I guess I didn't expect you to sit so close."

I raised an eyebrow. "We've sat closer than this during briefing back at the tower."

"That's different," he said quickly. "That's… official. Formal."

"And this isn't?" I asked, still calm, still casual.

He shifted a little, trying to find a response, and I let the silence stretch for a bit before pulling my attention back to the map.

"Let me know when you're ready to talk like a person again," I said mildly. "I don't bite. Much."

That got a short laugh from him—rough, but genuine. His tension eased a little.

"Okay," he said finally. "You're right. I'm being weird. Sorry. Just tired, I guess."

Tired, maybe. But that wasn't all of it. Still, I didn't push. He needed space to come around on his own.

"Good," I said, lightly tapping the map." See any area you want us to check out tomorrow?"

Koji leaned in again, the tension mostly gone now, though I noticed he still kept his left hand firmly to himself, resting it on his thigh instead of letting it hover near the map like before.

"Here," he said, pointing toward a narrow bend in the river west of our position. "The river here should hide scent and sound, so could be good if there is a nice spot, distance is also within your limit."

I nodded, studying the elevation lines and topography he indicated. "Good thinking. That can be one of our first outer sites."

We stayed like that for a little while longer, going over terrain lines and travel times, sketching out a rough patrol rotation. But part of my mind kept drifting back to his earlier reactions—the stiff flinch, the awkward silence, the way he couldn't quite meet my eyes.

He was tired. Sure. But there was something more. Something skittish in him, like a fox caught halfway between a trap and a hiding hole.

It made me curious.

At this point, I was beyond bored with this mission, and well, I figured that I could pay Koji some more attention, maybe he could entertain me.

I didn't notice it myself, but I ended up staring at him, something both he and Kuro noticed.

Kuro's ears twitched first. Then, with a subtle shift of his body, he turned his head and looked right at me. Not accusing, not smug—just knowing. Too knowing.

Koji caught it a second later. His eyes flicked from the map to Kuro, then slowly to me. Our gazes met—and for just a heartbeat, he froze.

I didn't look away.

He blinked fast, clearly startled by how long I'd been watching him. His mouth opened slightly, like he was about to ask something or say anything at all—then shut again with a faint click of teeth.

His shoulders tensed.

Kuro gave the faintest bark. Not loud. Not attention-grabbing. But there was a certain lilt to it, a rhythm I'd heard enough to guess the meaning behind it.

"Oh my god," Koji muttered under his breath, face blooming red with a vengeance. "Kuro. Shut. Up."

I raised an eyebrow, amused. "Should I be worried about what he just said?"

"No. He's just… dramatic," Koji muttered. His eyes darted back to the map, but he wasn't looking at it anymore. Not really.

I tilted my head slightly, letting my expression rest in that unreadable neutral I'd perfected over the years. Then I let just the smallest hint of a smile curve one corner of my lips.

"Well," I said lightly, "he's not wrong."

Koji's head jerked up. "What?"

"You're acting a little off. He noticed. I noticed." I tapped the map, not even looking at it. "Whatever it is, know that we are all a team here. If you can't talk with me, try one of the other two. Koji," I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I need you at your best, so if something is wrong, as your leader and friend, let me know."

Koji stared at me like I'd just hit him with a genjutsu.

Not the flustered, awkward Koji from a minute ago. Not the sheepish one fumbling through half-baked excuses. Just… quiet. Still. His eyes flicked down to my hand on his shoulder, then back up to meet mine.

Something shifted in his expression. Just a little. Like something inside him had unclenched.

He nodded slowly. "Thanks," he said, voice low. "I mean that."

I gave his shoulder one last squeeze, then pulled my hand back. "Good. Now stop acting like I've got plague chakra and help me draw contour lines before I make you redraw the whole valley ridge by yourself."

That got a real smile out of him—brief, crooked, but real. "You'd do that too," he said.

"Absolutely," I replied.

(End of chapter)

It seems like Koji is failing to hide his feelings, not a very good shinobi. Yet, good enough for Yuki not to notice, but surely that can't last for long can it?