The unspoken agreement and the friendship that continues year by year
Since that moment, when the handkerchief was returned through the wall, the days had flowed by like flowing water. Uchiha Aoi carefully buried that brief encounter deep within her heart, like a sweet yet dangerous secret. She tucked the waka collection away at the bottom of her dressing box, and the dried gentian flower was made into a small bookmark, tucked between her favorite books.
She thought that the encounter was just an accidental intersection of fate, and that they would each return to their original tracks and never meet again.
However, one evening, about two or three months later, the setting sun dyed the courtyard a warm golden hue. Aoi was sitting on the porch, reading a travelogue, when suddenly, that familiar, cold voice rang out again through the wall, low and low, like a codeword they had agreed upon:
"How are you these days?"
Aoi's heart skipped a beat! She jerked her head up and looked toward the wall, almost thinking she was hallucinating. She put the book down, hesitated for a moment, then stood up and walked to the wall, responding in a similarly low voice, "...very good. How about you?"
"It's OK," a voice outside the wall replied briefly. Then, a small oil-paper package was accurately thrown over the wall and landed on the grass at her feet. "I was passing by the West Street Market and saw this, so I stopped by."
Aoi picked up the paper package and opened it. Inside were several delicately crafted cherry blossom cakes with a faint sweet aroma. They were from a recently popular pastry shop in the capital.
"...Thank you." Aoi looked at the exquisite snacks, feeling a strange feeling in her heart. A ninja, passing by on a mission, would "stop by" and buy snacks that a girl liked?
"No need." The voice outside the wall paused, "What book are you reading?"
"A book...a travelogue about overseas customs." Aoi answered honestly, even subconsciously saying the title of the book.
There seemed to be a faint chuckle from outside the wall, so light and faint that Aoi almost thought it was an illusion. "That's strange. Do noble ladies also like to watch these things?"
“…Just curious.” Aoi felt a little embarrassed, as if she was looked down upon.
"Curiosity isn't a bad thing." The voice outside the wall seemed a little gentler. "It's better than being complacent."
And so, through the high, cold wall, the two of them had their second brief conversation. They didn't reveal their identities, didn't touch on any sensitive topics, and simply exchanged superficial information like two strangers who had met by chance and shared some similar interests.
This time, Tobirama didn't leave immediately. The two chatted intermittently for about an incense stick of time, usually Tobirama asking questions and Aoi answering cautiously. It wasn't until the sky gradually darkened that a voice came from outside the wall: "It's getting late, goodbye."
From then on, it seemed to have become an unspoken agreement.
It seemed that Tobirama frequently came to the capital to carry out missions. Between missions, he would always find an opportunity to come to the outer walls of this mansion, choosing a quiet and deserted time to "knock" on Aoi's world in that special way.
Sometimes the intervals would be one or two months, sometimes half a year. Every time he came, he would bring something small: sometimes a rare, single-copy book (whose origin was unknown), sometimes a strangely shaped fallen leaf or stone, sometimes a newly released pastry from a well-established shop, and once even a small piece of a precious spice said to soothe the mind and aid sleep.
Their conversations gradually evolved from initial pleasantries and tentative attempts to something more in-depth. He would ask her what books she had read recently and what she thought of them; she would carefully inquire whether the outside world was truly as vast as described in books (never mentioning ninjas). He would briefly describe the unique scenery or customs he had encountered on his travels; she would share interesting anecdotes or troubles she had encountered while studying the elegant arts (tea ceremony, flower arrangement) at the palace.
This conversation through the walls became a strange, bright spot in the sunflower-gray aristocratic world. She began to anticipate the voice from beyond the walls, which would echo at any moment. It was her only connection to the outside world, to a vast world filled with adventure and the unknown. She didn't know what he looked like (besides the pale profile in her memory), nor did she know the dangers behind each of his missions. She only knew him as a "friend" with vast knowledge and a sharp mind, and despite his cold tone, he seemed not to lack patience.
For Senju Tobirama, these regular and occasional visits might have initially stemmed from a simple lingering remembrance of the life-saving favor and a glimmer of curiosity about this quiet, bookish noblewoman, a stark contrast to the ninja world. But gradually, they became a unique respite from his hectic killing spree. The voice within the walls, quiet and gentle, with a naive purity and occasional displays of wisdom beyond his years, brought him a rare sense of peace.
They tacitly abided by invisible rules: never cross the line, never pry into each other's identities and privacy, and never stay outside the wall for too long. They were like two streams that occasionally met, briefly exchanging a trace of water vapor before each flowing off to its own distant destination.
Time slipped quietly through these brief conversations across the wall. Aoi grew older, transitioning from a little girl into a young woman. Beyond the wall, Tobirama's voice shifted from the clear, youthful clarity of a teenager to a deeper, more steady voice. The strange, secret connection between them deepened with each passing year, becoming a unique and indispensable presence in each other's lives.
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