Once upon a time, there was a shinobi named "Nabari."

Whether this shinobi was a man or a woman, where they died, whom they served, what they achieved, or where they were raised—all of it remains unknown. A truly mysterious shinobi.

Perhaps they died alone at the end, or perhaps they quit being a shinobi to live quietly deep in the mountains. Perhaps they fell in love with someone of high status and eloped. Perhaps they took an interest in their beloved's hobbies and did the same. No one knows how their life ended.

...

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.........

I suddenly remembered how my grandfather used to tell me stories about a ninja named "Nabari." "We aren't descendants of the shinobi or anything, but as someone with the same surname, I respect Nabari-san," he would say, though I never quite understood what he meant.

Maybe because of that, I grew to like historical dramas. When I told Senpai, they said, "That's pretty old-school," but I don't mind. That person was the only one who said, "That's cool."

Lost in thought, I walked through the university campus when a familiar back of a head entered my field of vision.