Chapter 98: Anko

Half a month passed, and Tonbo's work settled into a quiet rhythm. Peacetime left the Analysis Team with fewer minds to examine and fewer urgent techniques to classify. Some members continued temporary assignments elsewhere. Others revisited information extracted during the war, comparing old enemy ninjutsu against newer defensive methods. Each category had an established process, and Tonbo did not interfere merely to prove he was in command. 

The Barrier Team occupied more of his attention. Sealed Horizon already functioned well enough for field use; the next version needed to be lighter, faster to deploy, and more resistant to unusual methods of penetration. Its existing weaknesses were not failures so much as routes an informed enemy might eventually exploit. 

There was no immediate deadline. That luxury made careful work possible. Most evenings, Tonbo returned home in time to take Tenyu and Maki through the village. When he and Ayame wanted time alone, a Shadow Clone guarded the twins while they walked or ate together. The children grew stronger by the week. Their unexplained habit of collecting dust on their clothes persisted, although every direct observation showed two innocent infants sleeping exactly where they belonged. 

One afternoon, he arranged to meet two people at Ichiraku. Anko Mitarashi was already seated at the counter when he arrived. She wore impatience like armor. "Anko. It has been too long. You look well," Tonbo said. 

The memory of Tonbo's chili-flavored genjutsu sharpened her eyes. "Why did you call me here? My mission report isn't finished, I prefer sweets to ramen, and if this is some married man's attempt to ask me out, I will tell Ayame before I break your nose." 

Behind the counter, Teuchi paused with a bundle of noodles in his hands. "None of those things," Tonbo said. "I want to introduce you to someone. He will buy three-color dango afterward." 

Teuchi resumed cooking. Anko flushed. "I'm not interested in men. If you had told me, I wouldn't have come. Plenty of men pursue me already; I just haven't accepted." 

"I know. But with all those sweets, you might end up fat and unmarried. Better meet someone now. He is my best student, and he has just made special jōnin." 

Tonbo remembered an older, much heavier Anko. She had never found anyone. Her clenched fists brought him back to the present. 

"Who are you calling unwanted? I'm a shinobi. How would I get fat?" 

Footsteps approached. Togekei entered, saw Tonbo beside a purple-haired kunoichi, and understood too late how literal his teacher's promise had been. "Teacher." 

"Excellent timing." Tonbo drew him forward. "Anko Mitarashi, this is Tessen Togekei. He specializes in weapons and spatial judgment. Togekei, Anko is the next Lady Tsunade." 

"Hello," Anko said. 

"Hello." 

Togekei's plain features held an awkward smile. Anko let her anger subside at the comparison to Tsunade and studied him openly: small ponytail, steady posture, hands marked by weapons practice. He looked back at sharp eyes and purple hair and seemed unable to think of anything to say. 

Silence expanded across the counter, and Tonbo discovered that arranging an introduction was much easier before both people arrived. 

"You should talk somewhere without an audience," he said. "I will leave you to it." 

He vanished in a puff of smoke, then stepped behind a partition near the entrance and activated Unseen Presence. Attention slid away from his chakra and position. This was his first attempt at matchmaking, and curiosity proved stronger than dignity. 

"You're really a special jōnin?" Anko asked. 

"Just recently." 

"You don't sound pleased." 

"I am. This is simply my first time meeting someone because my teacher decided we should." 

"Is it your first time talking to a girl?" 

Togekei's laugh came out strained. "Not exactly." 

"Then stop answering one line at a time. I'm beginning to wonder how you passed a mission debriefing." 

From hiding, Tonbo pressed two fingers to his temple. Togekei could coordinate an escape while an enemy with space-time ninjutsu tried to kill him, yet ordinary conversation had reduced him to a malfunctioning signal device. Anko tried another approach. "Tonbo led your genin team?" 

"Yes. Iruka, Mibu, and I trained under him after graduation." 

"Did he use that revolting flavor genjutsu on you?" 

Togekei relaxed for the first time. Shared adversity gave him familiar ground. "Frequently. He used it to punish us if we got lazy." 

"And you never wanted to make him experience it himself?" 

"He was a good teacher." 

"That was not the question." 

Togekei glanced toward the entrance, unaware that Tonbo stood only a few paces away. "Once or twice," he admitted. 

Tonbo's concern shifted. If Togekei and Iruka had both entertained that ambition, Mibu almost certainly had as well. His students' gratitude needed reinforcement. 

Anko smiled. "You may be tolerable after all. Let's get dango and see whether you can complete a full conversation." 

Togekei blinked. "You mean a date?" 

"Call it an evaluation if that frightens you less. I also want sweet red-bean soup. You don't object to either?" 

"No." 

"Then come on." 

She clapped him on the shoulder and left. Togekei followed with the expression of someone entering a mission whose briefing had omitted the objective. 

Tonbo watched them go. The meeting had advanced faster than he expected. Anko might genuinely like Togekei, or she might simply have identified a newly promoted shinobi willing to finance an afternoon of sweets. Togekei, competent in every environment except this one, was poorly equipped to distinguish the possibilities. 

Tonbo followed under Unseen Presence, maintaining a respectful distance by his own flexible definition. Neither of them could pierce the technique, and he intended only to ensure that his introduction had not been a mistake. That was mentorship, he decided. It merely resembled spying.