Malphegor
patreon
NYP Ch. 91
🕑 Added 2025-12-25 01:51:19 +0000 UTCThe workshop was quiet except for the soft scrape of metal on wood and the occasional click of mechanisms being tested.
Honoka stood in the doorway, holding a tray with rice, grilled fish, and miso soup. Steam rose from the bowls.
Kenji sat hunched over his workbench, a puppet arm disassembled in front of him. His hands moved quickly, adjusting internal joints with tools so small they looked like they belonged to a jeweler rather than a ninja.
She'd been standing there for maybe thirty seconds. He hadn't noticed.
"You're going to go blind working in this lighting."
Kenji paused, his hands hovering over the puppet arm. He looked up, blinking as his eyes adjusted to focusing on something farther away than two centimeters from his face.
"What time is it?"
"Almost midnight."
"Huh." He set down his tools and rubbed his eyes. "I didn't realize."
"You never do." Honoka crossed the workshop and set the tray down on the only clear space on his workbench. "Eat."
"I will. Just let me finish this joint adjustment—"
"I said, eat."
He looked at her. She raised an eyebrow.
"...Fine." He picked up the chopsticks. "You're worse than Ikkaku."
"Ikkaku doesn't live with you. I do. Which means I'm the one who has to deal with you when you work yourself into exhaustion and can't function the next day."
"That happened once."
"Twice."
"Once and a half."
Honoka couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her mouth. "Eat your food before it gets cold."
She sat down across from him, holding her own bowl of rice. This had become routine whenever he worked on a project. He would work late and lose track of time, and she'd bring him food. Sometimes he ate while working; sometimes she could convince him to actually stop for twenty minutes.
Tonight seemed like a stopping night. He ate absentmindedly, his attention shifting between the food and the puppet parts scattered across his workspace.
"New design?" she asked.
"Refinement of an old one. The joint degradation rate is higher than I want. There was too much friction during extended combat. I'm trying to solve it without completely redesigning the load-bearing structure."
"Is it working?"
"Not yet. But I'll figure it out."
His confidence wasn't arrogance. Just fact. If he said he'd figure something out, he would. It might take time or require dozens of failed attempts, but he'd get there eventually. That single-minded drive was something Honoka had come to recognize as fundamentally Kenji.
She watched him eat, forgetting her own rice for the moment
The workshop lighting fell across his face, highlighting the focus in his eyes even when he wasn't working. His hair was messier than usual, probably from running his hands through it when a design wasn't cooperating. There was a smudge of oil on his cheek from where he'd absently touched his face with dirty fingers.
She looked down at her rice, forcing herself to take a bite.
"How's your medical training going?" Kenji asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"I'm still struggling with the precision work. My chakra control is better than it was, but not where it needs to be for healing techniques."
"Ikkaku mentioned he's been helping you with fundamentals."
"He has. He's a good teacher."
Kenji finished his fish and moved on to the soup. "You should keep working with him. I don't have time to teach you properly right now."
"I will," Honoka said. "We have another session tomorrow evening."
"Good."
They finished eating in silence. When Kenji set down his chopsticks, Honoka gathered the dishes back onto the tray.
"You should sleep. The puppet will still be here tomorrow."
"I know. I just want to test one more configuration..."
He met her eyes and saw the look on her face. After a moment, he sighed.
"Fine. One more configuration, then I'll sleep."
"I'm holding you to that."
"I know you will."
Honoka stood with the tray. As she reached the workshop door, she glanced back.
Kenji had already returned to his work, hands moving over the puppet parts.
She left the workshop and headed to the kitchen to wash dishes.
---
The next evening, Honoka knocked on Ikkaku's door at seven o'clock exactly.
He answered wearing civilian clothes instead of his usual uniform, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him before. "Right on time. Come in."
The low table was already set up with practice materials and two cups waiting.
"I made tea," Ikkaku said as she settled across from him. "Nothing fancy, just standard green."
"Thank you."
They spent the first twenty minutes on chakra control exercises. Ikkaku watched her form, made corrections to her hand positions, explained the theory behind each technique in terms that made sense.
"You're getting the hang of it," he said when she successfully maintained a stable chakra flow for thirty seconds without wavering.
He refilled her tea. "Take a break. You've been concentrating hard for twenty minutes straight."
Honoka accepted the tea gratefully, letting the warm cup soothe her hands. Her chakra pathways felt slightly strained from the exercises.
"So how's life next door? Still surviving Kenji's work schedule?"
"He's been in his workshop until past midnight every night this week. I think he forgets time exists when he's problem-solving."
"That sounds about right. What's the current project?"
"Something about joint calibration for his new puppet design. He was explaining it to me last night while I made him eat dinner, but I'll be honest, most of it went over my head. Something about stress distribution and chakra conduction needing to match perfectly or the whole mechanism fails."
Ikkaku smiled. "He explained it to you while eating?"
"Well, more like I put food in front of him and refused to leave until he ate it, and he started talking through his problem out loud. I think having someone there helps him organize his thoughts, even if I don't understand half of what he's saying."
"Do you mind? Being the sounding board for technical stuff you don't fully grasp?"
Honoka considered that, wrapping her hands around her tea cup. "No, actually. It's kind of fascinating watching him work through problems. His mind moves really fast when he's focused. He'll be stuck on something, then suddenly connect two ideas and his whole expression changes. It's..." She trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Impressive, I guess."
"You spend a lot of time watching him work."
"I'm usually in the same room doing other things. Reading, or practicing medical techniques. But yeah, I'm around when he's working. Is that weird?"
"Not really." Ikkaku sipped his tea. "Does he appreciate the company?"
"I think so? He's never told me to leave. Sometimes he asks my opinion on things, which is funny because I know nothing about puppets. Last week he showed me two different wood samples and asked which looked more structurally sound."
"What did you say?"
"I had no idea, so I picked the one that felt heavier. Apparently that was the correct choice because density matters for load-bearing joints." She laughed quietly. "I think he just wanted confirmation he was making the right call."
"Probably. He's good at analysis but second-guesses his instincts sometimes." Ikkaku set down his cup. "What did you do before the training sessions started? When he wasn't as busy?"
"We'd eat dinner together most nights. Talk about our days, what we were working on. Nothing heavy, just companionable, I guess. He'd tell me about whatever technique he was refining, and I'd tell him about my medical practice or things happening in the village."
"You miss that."
It wasn't a question, but Honoka answered anyway. "A little, yeah. But it's fine. He's busy with important work. The dinner routine will come back once his project's done."
"You're very patient with him."
"He's patient with me too. He lets me stay in his apartment, never complains when I rearrange his kitchen or break his concentration. It goes both ways."
Ikkaku nodded slowly and refilled both their cups.
"Want to work on the next exercise? We've got time before it gets too late."
"Sure."
They returned to training, working through increasingly complex exercises. By the time Honoka left an hour later, her chakra control had noticeably improved.
"Same time in two days?" Ikkaku asked at the door.
"I'll be here. And thank you. These sessions are really helping."
"Happy to do it. Hey, if you're free this weekend, there's supposed to be good weather. I was thinking about going to that tea shop near the market. Want to come?"
"Oh. Sure, that sounds nice."
"Great. I'll see you then."
Honoka walked back to Kenji's apartment. She unlocked the door and stepped inside to find the apartment dark and quiet. Kenji's bedroom door was closed, which meant he'd gone to sleep at a reasonable hour for once.
She moved quietly through the apartment, putting away her things and preparing for bed. As she passed Kenji's workshop, she paused.
The door was cracked open. Light spilled out into the hallway.
She opened it slightly. Kenji was asleep at his workbench, head pillowed on his arms, surrounded by puppet parts and technical drawings. He must have worked until he couldn't stay awake anymore.
She stood there for a moment. Then she went to get a blanket. When she returned, she draped it over his shoulders. Kenji didn't wake, just shifted slightly in his sleep.
Her hand hovered near his shoulder for a moment. Then she pulled it back.
"You're going to hurt your neck sleeping like that," she murmured, too quiet for him to hear.
She turned off the overhead lights, leaving only the small desk lamp on, and left the workshop.
---
Three days later, Honoka met Kenji at Ramen Ichiraku for a late dinner.
He'd suggested it that morning, mentioning he needed to pick up supplies near the market anyway and they might as well eat together since they'd both be in the area. The ramen stand was busy but not packed. They found seats at the counter, ordered their usual, and settled in to wait.
"How was your training session with Ikkaku yesterday?" Kenji asked.
"Good. He's been teaching me some of the theory behind chakra pathway optimization. It's helping me understand why certain techniques require specific hand positions."
"He's good at breaking down complex concepts."
Their ramen arrived, steam rising from the bowls. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Kenji spoke again.
"I appreciate what you've been doing. I know I'm not the easiest person to live with."
Honoka glanced at him. "You're fine to live with. You don't make messes, you don't complain, and you thank me when I do things. That's better than a lot of people would be."
"Still. I know I get absorbed in work and forget basic things like meals and sleep. Having someone who remembers those things is nice."
Something in Honoka's chest warmed at the words. "It's not a burden. I like taking care of the apartment. It makes me feel useful."
"You are useful. Your medical training is progressing well. The village needs more medical-nin, and from what Ikkaku's been telling me, you have good instincts for it."
"Ikkaku's been talking to you about my training?"
"He mentioned it yesterday when I was helping him with some intelligence analysis work. He's impressed with your progress." Kenji returned his attention to his ramen. "You should be proud of how far you've come."
The warmth in her chest intensified.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
They continued eating. Honoka was lifting noodles to her mouth when she felt something brush her cheek.
She froze.
Kenji's right hand was there, his thumb wiping away a smear of sauce from the corner of her mouth.
"You had something on your face," he said, already pulling his hand back and returning to his own food.
Honoka's heart was suddenly racing.
It was nothing. She knew it was nothing. But her skin still tingled where he'd touched her.
"Thanks..."
Kenji just nodded and kept eating.
The rest of the meal passed in a blur. Honoka responded to Kenji's occasional comments on autopilot. Her mind was too busy spiraling to fully process what he was saying.
When they finished and walked back to the apartment together, Kenji talked about his latest puppet modifications. Honoka made appropriate sounds of interest, but internally she was trying to figure out what had just happened.
It was just a touch. So why did it feel like something had shifted?
That night, Honoka lay in bed staring at the ceiling again.
The apartment was quiet. Kenji had gone to bed, probably because she'd told him he needed proper sleep if he wanted his chakra control to stay sharp. He'd listened, which was rare enough to be notable.
Her thoughts wouldn't settle.
She lay staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over, before finally turning onto her side and pulling the blanket up to her chin.
