Naruto: The Outsider's Resolve: CH_541: Anchored [MAJOR RE-EDIT] (Patreon)

A/N:

Damn, two chapters re-edited in a row. I would like to avoid these, but anything for the betterment of the story.

RELATIONSHIP LENGTH : 1 YEAR —to—> 6 MONTHSAs pointed in the comments, the timeline of Takuma and Arisu's relationship doesn't make sense. I messed up. They couldn't have been together for a year because the entire time skip was one year (actually, a few weeks short of a year). And given that they didn't start dating at the start of the timeskip, their relationship has to be shorter.

REWROTE the LAST SCENE (in which they walk to Arisu's home).There were good points about how I skipped the relationship build-up and went straight for the reward. I somewhat disagree, but some people made very great points on how the relationship progress can be written, especially given how these two people started their relationship.

I'm not great at writing romance; it actively scares me, but I wanted to give it a try. In some ways, I'm glad that there's this much discourse on Discord because I get to read people's thoughts, and it gave me a whole lot to think about. I now have greater clarity on how I want this relationship to progress.

———

.

The pottery studio smelled heavily of damp earth, oxidised iron, and raw chalk—smells that had come to calm Takuma down. He sat hunched over the low wooden bench, his calloused and scarred hands working a lump of grey clay that spun on the plate. He pressed his palms inward to nudge the mass into a symmetrical squat cylinder. The clay fought back; he didn’t attempt to fight it and instead guided it, feeling the drag against his skin.

At his chūnin promotion ceremony, the Hokage had given him the advice to experience his nature affinities by observing the corresponding elements. He had done many things to increase his understanding of water and earth. Pottery was among the things that he had picked up to study earth, and it stuck. The feeling of different types of clay directly under his hand gave him an intimate knowledge of earth. He couldn’t prove that pottery helped, but he certainly thought it did.

Slowly, the clay flowed and formed under his fingers, taking the shape he desired, turning into a shallow elliptical bowl to be used as home décor.

Takuma spared a glance to his left, and a smile subconsciously bloomed on his face.

Arisu’s hands were coated in thick grey slip up to her wrists. Her pale green hair was tied in a messy, practical knot, though a single, rebellious streak was plastered to her cheek by a stray thumbprint of slip. She looked hyper-focused and was glaring heatedly at the clay that spun in a dizzying, lopsided orbit.

“It’s not a hostile suspect,” Takuma said from the adjacent wheel.

Arisu didn’t look up and kept her hands locked around the unwieldy clay. “It’ll work, just give it a moment,” she argued. That moment didn’t arrive; the clay continued to deform no matter how she tried to position her hands. Instead of a vase, the clay took the shape of a flopping cylinder.

Takuma laughed because it looked like a dick. Even Arisu let out a breath that was half-sigh, half-laugh. She tried to salvage the lopsided form, but she pushed too hard. With a schlop, the top part collapsed and fell. A thick dollop of grey mud launched off the spinning wheel, splattering directly onto the centre of Takuma’s shirt.

Arisu stopped her wheel. She stared at the ruined clump of clay, then at his ruined shirt. For a second, the studio was dead silent before she burst out laughing. It wasn’t a polite giggle like that of the first couple of months—which was awkward because he already knew her true laughter—instead, she laughed so loudly that it crinkled the corner of her yellow eyes and made her shoulders shake.

Listening to the unfiltered laughter, he felt a lightness in his chest and shoulders. Unknowingly, the corners of his own mouth pulled upward.

He scooped up the sloppy clay with two of his fingers.

“Arisu?”

She looked up, still wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. “What?”

With a flick of his wrist, Takuma flung the wet clay. It caught her squarely on the shoulder, splattering against her cheek.

Arisu slowly turned her head to him, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. The laughter faded into a wicked grin. She reached down, sinking both hands into her bucket, pulling out two massive, dripping handfuls of raw slip.

“If that’s how you want to play it,” she said.

Ten minutes later, the competitive crossfire had ended in a mutual ceasefire. They stood side-by-side at large sinks at the back of the studio, the warm water rushing over their hands as they scrubbed off the worst of the damage. The frantic energy of their mud-fight and laughter had settled into a quiet comfort.

Takuma shut off his tap and reached for a towel. As he dried his hands, Arisu stepped seamlessly into his personal space.

“You missed a spot,” she murmured, her damp hand reaching up to his face. Her thumb brushed against his jawline, wiping away a drying streak of mud. She didn’t pull her hand away immediately. Her fingers lingered against his skin, her yellow eyes entirely focused on his face.

He leaned into her palm, his breathing slowing to match hers.

He then smirked when he saw her eyeing his lips, which got him a scowl in return, but he still let her pull him down for a kiss.

———

.

They went from the quiet intimacy of the pottery studio to the deafening, smoke-filled chaos of a barbecue joint under a large open tent with four different kitchens. They were all run by the same owner and used the same menu, yet people liked to sit in the section served by their favourite kitchen because of the minor changes to the shared recipes.

The waitress dropped a platter of beef and a pair of tongs, which Takuma immediately commandeered, arranging the first cuts of meat on the iron grill. He had done enough outdoor camping and cooking alone and with Maruboshi to become a master at grilling.

“Alright,” Arisu said, a glint in her eyes. “A hundred ryo, I can break down a booth you choose.”

Takuma tapped the tongs against the metal rim. He smoothly shifted his gaze across the dining floor. “You’re on. Three o’clock, the couple by the window.”

The man was profusely sweating, talking rapidly while gesturing to a large bouquet of beautiful flowers from Yamanaka Florals that looked out of place. The woman was sitting rigidly, arms crossed, staring intently at her glass of water.

“Defensive posture,” Arisu noted. “He’s leaning forward; probably wanted to sit beside her, but she didn’t want that, so he’s trying to get closer.” The woman, on the other hand, had her back straight. “She has her shields up with her arms crossed like that. She won’t even look at him.” Arisu glanced at Takuma and noticed that he was ever so slightly leaning towards her, looking at her instead of the couple. She smiled and continued, “Look at her hands. No ring, but she’s fiddling with her ring finger… They were previously engaged, he messed up, and the flowers were desperation.”

“He’s also apologising in a crowded place to pressure her to forgive him and give him another chance in fear of a scene in public,” she said with narrowed eyes.

“Cheating?” Takuma asked.

“Could be, but from the way they’re dressed, it’s probably about money.” The man was dressed in a gaudy suit, but the woman was dressed simply without any expensive accessories.

“You’re right,” Takuma smiled. “He gambled the money they had saved for their wedding on a snake oil scheme. And it was not the first time he squandered their shared savings.”

“Huh, how do you know that?”

Takuma tapped his left ear. “I heard them talking when we were walking in. Okay, choose one for me.”

Arisu narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was telling the truth or just making it up before giving up and looking for a target for him.

“The group of five at the centre table.”

“A group of friends,” Takuma said, observing the five young adults. “They’re trying to get their friends together. The two boys on the end and the girl in the middle are wingmen. They’re boxing the remaining boy and girl next to each other.”

Arisu nodded, considering their dynamics. Takuma stared silently for a few seconds and then whistled. “What, what?” she asked. He had seen something interesting.

“One of the wingmen likes the girl he’s trying to set up his friend with. Look at that boy in blue. He’s sneaking glances at the girl and clearly only fakes a smile when someone’s looking at him.”

Arisu gazed at the table, and it was true; the boy seemed uninterested in the conversation at the table and was seemingly more taken in by his drink when he wasn’t glancing at the girl.

“Oh my god, that could get messy,” she said.

“It already is,” Takuma nodded as he happily transferred the cooked meat and vegetables to their plates.

“Speaking of friends, are you taking time for yours?” Arisu asked.

“I do,” Takuma said without pause as he put another serving on the grill. It wasn’t a lie because he now worked with two of his closest friends. “You know, I’m better at it these days.”

Managing his personal life was always a challenge for him. He had made a conscious effort to invest time in his relationship with Arisu because he wanted it to work. It helped that he liked spending time with her and that the clones had eased his workload despite it increasing in the past year. His rule of not using clones for personal matters limited his time because the original was still busy despite the clones. But with six or seven of his eight-clone limit running around on any day, his personal life situation had noticeably improved. He had gotten comfortable with using clones—when previously, he believed in attending important meetings or events in person, he could now send clones to meetings with Weasel and Stag.

“Then how about we set up a double date with Ai and Nenro?” Arisu asked.

“I would love that,” Takuma smiled—he would get to hang out with three of his friends simultaneously. He raised a hand, catching a waiter’s eye across from the crowded floor. “Excuse me. We need an order of spicy pickled radishes and a fresh pitcher of barley tea, please.”

Arisu blinked. “Oh, that would be perfect. I didn’t even realise I wanted those.”

Takuma winked at her. He also knew she liked garlic as well, but she wasn’t ready to eat it in front of her boyfriend of six months. When the fresh tea arrived, he poured it for her. Arisu watched him, her eyes softening, which he took as a sign that he had earned himself some boyfriend brownie points.

———

.

As they crossed the bridge into the residential sector, the neon signs of the restaurants and bars faded, giving way to soft streetlights. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine.

In the silence, Takuma’s thoughts drifted to the Aburame case. They had mapped Aburame Shigeki’s social circle, focusing on the people near him with newfound fortune in the past few years. The people whose wealth originated from within the Aburame clan were suspects of being involved in the scheme. The next challenge was to choose a few to target because they couldn’t bring in everyone without being obvious. They also had to figure out how to bring them in without raising alarms.

Arisu stepped closer, closing the small gap between them. Her hand slipped out of her pockets and found his, her fingers seamlessly sliding between his own.

“Thinking about work?” Arisu said softly, not looking at him as they walked.

The physical contact was an immediate anchor. The cold calculations in his mind fizzled away, replaced by the warmth against his palm. He exhaled, and his shoulders sagged.

“Sorry about that, I got distracted,” he said, feeling guilty. They usually talked about Arisu’s Police Force work, but she had consciously not talked shop during their entire date. He held her hand a fraction tighter. His rule of not using clones in his personal life didn’t mean much if his mind was far away at work.

Arisu’s fingers twitched within his grasp with a faint stiffening of her knuckles. She didn’t pull away, but the easy warmth of her hold cooled just a fraction.

“It’s fine,” she said, brightly—a little too bright. She bumped her shoulder against his. “Just work stuff on your mind?”

It was a probe. A gentle knock on a door she had been circling for six months.

“Yeah,” Takuma said without looking at her. He didn’t notice how easy it was for him to lie, a side-effect of his job that he was hiding from her. “The schedules have been dense lately.”

The silence that followed was weighty. Arisu wasn’t as good at lying as Takuma, and with their hands joined, he could feel the faint displeasure radiating from her. They had been partners and friends for years before crossing the line into romance. She knew he was hiding something and clearly wanted to know but had kept that desire to herself because they had been in the honeymoon phase of their new relationship. The thought of spending time together was giddy; every meeting was fun, and losing themselves in thoughts of the other was common. Neither side wanted that to stop. Takuma knew that and relied on it to keep their relationship sailing smoothly. But half a year into their relationship, her willingness to let his silence slide was fading.

Takuma felt a tinge of cold in his chest. He wanted to keep it a secret and reveal it at the same time, and it bothered him. He felt no compulsion to tell her, and yet he knew he could end her frustrations with the truth.

However, it wasn’t that easy. Of course, it wasn’t. ANBU wasn’t just a job to him. It was a big part of his life and a majority of his identity. He devoted more time to ANBU than anything else. Giving over twenty-four hours of labour to his work every single day was a given. Takuma trusted that Arisu would keep it a secret if he told her, but that wasn’t the problem.

If he confessed, it would be making her aware that for the entire time they had been dating and even before that, he had been hiding the biggest part of his life from her.

It would be telling her that he was capable of seamlessly hiding another whole life from the girl who was supposedly among the people who knew him best. If he could keep something of that magnitude a secret, what else could he keep from her? Would she ever be able to trust him to keep things about their personal life open and honest with her? Would Takuma be able to trust his partner if they were keeping so much hidden? He probably wouldn’t know until he actually had a partner who hid something from him, but that didn’t really help with the fears.

He was hesitant to admit it to himself, but getting in a relationship had been good for him because it had forced him to dedicate time to it or fear losing one of his dearest friends. In the months they had been dating, the motivation had gone from fear to liking the time he spent with her as their relationship evolved.

They turned the corner, and Arisu’s parents' home came into view under the warm glow of a streetlamp.

Arisu stopped walking. She gently tugged on his hand, making him turn and face her. She reached up with her free hand, her thumb tracing the line on his jaw exactly as she had at the pottery studio, while her other hand rested flat against the centre of his chest.

Her yellow eyes searched his black ones with a hidden intensity.

She was giving him an opening with something unspoken: Tell me. Let me in.

Takuma looked down at her. His pulse was perfectly calm. He kept it that way in case she felt his heartbeat through her hand on his chest.

He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready to risk detonating their relationship.

This was why it hurt so much when he saw the exact moment she realised he wasn’t going to speak in the form of a brief crinkle of disappointment tightening the corner of her eyes.

Takuma wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Arisu’s breath hitched in surprise for a moment before she sighed in a way that made it clear that she wasn’t happy, to make sure he was aware of it, to punish him for his silence and attempt to move past it. Nevertheless, she melted into his hold, her hand sliding up to the nape of his neck, pulling him exactly where he needed to be.

He couldn’t tell her that he would tell her the truth one day because he had no way of knowing that, but he didn’t want to lie to her more if he could help it, so when he kissed her, he hoped that his feelings came across. Perhaps it was what he wanted to be true, but he felt that Arisu understood when he kissed him back.

For a long moment in the silent street, the tension between them dissolved as they indulged in each other. There were no secrets, no thoughts of work, no fears about the tumultuous future that could very well spell their end, or the kids on whom the future of the world depended.

There was only the cool night, a very pleasant warmth, and a comfort that they weren’t alone.