Chapter Text
The hum of cicadas echoes amongst the trees, having awoken from their long hibernation to converse. The buzz and the summer heat in combination threaten Mamoru's focus. Nevertheless, he inhales deeply, trying to keep his attention on the chakra flowing through his body; from his core to his shoulders, down his arms and through his hands, transforming into tiny sparks at his fingertips. Exhale. The sparks crackle bigger. As his breathing deepens, the crackling turns to a buzz until the staff in his hands explodes with electricity. The telltale chirp of the chidori finally drowned out the droning insects in the trees around them.
Another deep breath and a rapid swing to his left. A ball of electricity flings from one end of his staff towards the target nailed to a tree. It flies slowly forward and dies before it reaches the target. The electricity at Mamoru's hands dissipates and the cicadas' concert comes back into focus.
"Hey, it went farther than last time!" Tori cheers, perched on a log at the edge of the clearing. Several small clay bird figures are scattered around her feet, keeping her hands busy while her friend trains. Mamoru sighs, his shoulders slumped, "I can do better, I know I can if I just…keep trying." He centers himself again, inhaling, gathering his chakra in his core…but he can't channel it past his shoulders without the chakra dissolving. After a third attempt, he's left panting, trying to catch his breath.
"Hey, take it easy," Tori's at his side now with a frown on her face, her hand rubbing big circles into his back as she gently guides him back to her seat, "You're not going to be able to do anything if you're tired."
"Yeah…I know…" Reluctantly, he follows her lead, burying his head in his hands once he's settled, "I just…I've just been trying to get this to work for months, now. I know this should work."
"It's gonna take time, though, right?" Tori hands her friend his water bottle from his bag. He takes it from her, but doesn't respond. "Maybe you could ask your dad for help? It's his jutsu you're working off anyway, right?"
He grimaces, "I don't know... I think that he thinks I can't do it but he just doesn't want to tell me that," he takes a sip, "Besides, he's probably busy."
Tori frowns, not sure how to respond. She knows Mamoru is just being hard on himself, like he always is. "Well, it's already a hard jutsu, right? And you're doing it without weaving hand seals and channeling it through a weapon! That's pretty cool!"
"My staff's coated in aluminum, it just conducts electricity well on the surface…" Mamoru deflects, his gaze trained on the water in his hands as he thinks. He looks back up to see Tori pouting at him. Sigh. He can't say no to her…
"Alright, fine," he concedes, shoving her gently and ruffling the hair in her face. Her laughs rings out and he smiles, "I guess it's a little cool."
She grins at him finally, a big toothy grin that he was very familiar with.
"Your turn, then," Mamoru changes the subject, "You wanted to practice substitutions, right?"
Tori's eyes light up, nodding and jumping to her feet for a quick round of stretches. "Hope you're ready for a show!" she winks at her friend, sticking out her tongue playfully, "I've been having ideas!"
"That's concerning." She kicks him lightly in the leg and they both laugh.
Tori ties her hair back quickly, breathing deeply until she feels the swell of chakra. It always felt so surreal, the way her chakra sparked and ignited in her core. The first time she had finally convinced Mamoru to teach her, she almost couldn't handle the tickling feeling without laughing, like a bunch of tiny explosions in her belly. Now, it's starting to become second nature, comforting almost.
One last deep breath and quick weaving of hand seals and she disappears in a cloud of white smoke. In her place, a lumpy, slightly smaller than life-size clay imitation of herself. It doesn't last very long, falling over limply within a couple of seconds.
"Damn it!" Tori curses from her perch on a nearby tree branch with a frown. She jumps down to inspect the damage. What once was a clay clone is already merely a pile of wet clay on the ground. "I was really hoping that would work."
"Did you just make a clone?" Mamoru is back on his feet, watching the clay slowly evaporate as the jutsu wore off.
"Hm? Umm…I guess so? I just remembered you saying that I could use whatever for a substitution and I thought, 'hey, you know what would be really cool?' but it didn't really work, I guess…"
Mamoru watches the leftover clay lump in stunned silence. "Well, it was still pretty fucking cool," he pats his friend on the back. He was not expecting Tori to be able to make clones yet. He'd only just started training with her in secret a couple of months ago and he'd been going pretty slow. He didn't want her improvement to be too noticeable, nor did he want her overexerting herself. Although, she's always been ambitious. And stubborn. He wonders how long she's been practicing this one, and how she's managed to practice without getting caught. The two stood watching in silence until the clay evaporated completely, the grass beneath left exactly as it was.
Mamoru breaks the silence, "Come on, the sun's going down. Wanna try substitution in action?"
Tori nods enthusiastically, a wide smile stretched across her face. Sparring was always her favorite part of training with Mamoru. It was almost like being a real shinobi. Almost.
"But maybe try a simpler substitution this time."
"Fine, I guess I'll go easy on you," Tori sticks out her tongue. She tightens her ponytail one last time and signals that she's ready. Mamoru nods in acknowledgement before charging forward. Tori's been best with long distance combat and projectiles so far, he wants to see how quickly she'd be able to get away from a close-quarters onslaught. Substitution would help with that, but first she'd need a second to catch her breath.
He moves quickly and efficiently with his weapon, attempting to overwhelm his partner with physical attacks from all sides. She dodges in time with his movements but struggles to land any hits on him herself. Speed is definitely one of her strongest skills, but her stamina doesn't keep up for very long and she slowly begins to lose momentum, getting hit once on her shoulder, then again on her right side, which Mamoru has noticed she was slower with. Taking advantage of her lost speed, he swings around her right, knocking her legs out from under her with his staff and sending her tumbling to the ground. As he reels back for a harder-hitting attack, he hopes she'll recognize the opportunity he was giving her.
She has a couple of options, here: if she notices Mamoru's weakened stability as he reeled back, she could kick his legs out from under him for a chance to gain some distance. However, he has a significant physical advantage over her, both in height and muscle mass, and she may not have the strength to topple him. On the flip side, if she could topple him, he'd hit the ground harder and would take more time to regain his footing than she would.
Though, of course, substitution is the most foolproof, and thankfully Tori took her training to heart. She disappears again into a cloud of smoke as his weapon made contact, this time leaving behind one of her larger clay birds she had sculpted earlier. The still wet clay sticks itself to his staff and Mamoru silently applauds her quick thinking to use something that would off-balance his weapon and make it harder to use. A kunai whizzes past him from the trees behind him and that's where she messed up. A second one comes flying at him with more accuracy. She's fast as usual, probably trying to make up for her miss, but this time he knows where she is. Flipping his staff around, he catches the blade in the glob of clay stuck to the end and toss both to the ground.
"You can't just let me have it, huh?" Mamoru turns to spot Tori pouting in the trees behind him. She's sitting casually on a branch, legs dangling, admitting defeat as the sun sets further behind the trees.
"No one else will," he looks back at her with a smile. He picks up the misshapen glob of clay on the ground; his staff had knocked a huge dent into the bird's head and it flattened on one side when it hit the ground, not to mention the kunai lodged into the face. "Sorry about this one, though," he apologizes, tossing it up to Tori.
"Eh, it's fine," She catches it, assessing the damage, "It was gonna get stuffed full of gunpowder anyway."
"Where are you even getting that stuff?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," she winks.
Mamoru rolls his eyes as Tori hops down from her perch to join him, "Just try not to get into trouble." He ruffles her hair again.
"Fine, alright!" she grabs his arm, keeping him from messing up her hair further, "But I won't make any promises."
"I wouldn't expect you to. Come on, it's getting dark," He makes his way over to the log bench to gather their belongings while Tori undoes her ponytail and fixes her bangs back over her eye. After collecting her tiny sculptures in the pouch on her hip, the two set off back to the village.
Growl…
"Mamoruuu…" Tori's grumbling was as incessant as her stomach's.
"Let me guess…you're hungry?"
"No, I stubbed my toe…" Tori playfully bumps into her friend as they walk side-by-side, feigning dramatics, "And I'm hungry."
Mamoru nudges her back, "Thought you'd say that. Come on, Pops is probably cooking again tonight." At that, Tori's pace quickens again, suddenly back to her usual cheery self, light on her feet and miraculously healed from her ailing toe. Dinner at his place wasn't uncommon for them after training, especially on nights when they stayed out later than usual. They were usually both hungry, anyway, and it gave Tori a better alibi for where she's been all day. Not to mention, Guy always cooked too much for just the three of them anyway. Tori was always a welcome guest there. Mamoru's house wasn't far, and the hungry teenagers walk faster as the smell of Guy's famous curry wafting through the windows gets closer.
"I'm home," Mamoru calls into the house as he steps through the door, "Tori's with me."
"Evenin'!" Tori greets, bending down to take off her shoes at the entrance.
"Tori! We're glad you could make it!" Guy's voice echoes from the kitchen, speaking as if he had already been expecting her to come by, "Hope you're hungry!"
"If you're cooking, then I'm always hungry, sir!"
Growl. Mamoru hadn't realized how hungry he'd gotten himself, the aroma making his mouth water as he follows Tori. She'd been over so often, she knew the house in and out at this point and, while she still did her best to mind her manners, she always made herself at home quickly.
"Welcome home," Kakashi is leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling at them over his book as he waves them in (at least, Tori assumes he's smiling. She'd never seen him without that mask. She wondered off-handedly if even Mamoru has.)
"Mmm! Smells like curry!" Tori makes a show of taking a big whiff.
"The Might Guy specialty coming right up!" Guy winks over his shoulder as he worked, "And you like your's extra spicy, right, Tori?" Tori nods, seemingly unable to sit still in her seat, and Kakashi reaches into the upper cabinet for a bottle of spices, passing it to his husband before he even has the chance to ask for it.
There was something about the atmosphere at Mamoru's place that Tori absolutely loved. She always felt so at home, like she was part of the family. Guy's energy always filled the room with joy and it balanced well with Kakashi's laidback attitute. Mamoru would complain sometimes to her about his parents being a little overbearing (she knew he and Kakashi often got into minor arguments), but when everyone was in the room together, it was like no one had a care in the world. The feeling had become even more palpable since Kakashi's retirement as Hokage, and the extra time he and his husband spent at home together only made them more in-sync. Tori often thought that watching them interact was like reading a romance novel, minus all the gross, cheesy stuff.
Gai finishes dinner promptly so thankfully, Tori doesn't have to wait too long to soothe her rumbling tummy. And, as promised, Guy made her's extra spicy.
"I hope it's just the way you like it, Tori!" he grins as she took her first big bite.
"Mmm! It's perfect, like always!" She says a little too loudly, savoring the spice and then remembering her manners, "Thank you for cooking for me!"
"Anytime at all! You are my favorite customer after all!"
"I don't know how you eat it like that," Mamoru remarks, watching Tori take another bite. His Pops' curry was already a little too on the spicy side for his tastes, and the last time he tried a bite from her bowl, it made him tear up.
"I don't know how you eat your's like that," she sticks out her tongue at him.
He shrugs and takes a bite of his own, the sweetness of apple clinging to his taste buds.
It doesn't take long for the teens to finish eating, practically famished from training out in the summer sun all day. When it's time for Tori to go home, the sun has set completely.
"I'll walk you home," Mamoru offers, although this had become their usual routine. Tori nods, sitting on the floor to put her shoes back on. The first couple of times, she had argured about not needing an escort home for such a short walk, but he always insisted it was safer. They wave one last goodbye to Guy and Kakashi before stepping out the door. The walk to Tori's apartment building is only about 20 minutes on a full stomach. As has become custom, Mamoru walks her all the way to her door and they say their (admittedly awkward) goodbyes.
"I'm home," Tori announces into the quiet apartment. The lights in the main room are off so she assumes everyone must be asleep. She wonders for a moment if she should have let someone know she'd be out late when she notices the dishes from dinner in the kitchen sink. Curiously, she opens the fridge and feels a twinge of guilt when she sees the leftovers with her name on them in her mom's handwriting. She decides she'll apologize in the morning and eat the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.
Quietly as she can, she tiptoes in a beeline for her room at the end of the hallway, peering into her mom's bedroom as she passes. She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees her mother's still form under the covers. She draws open the door to her own room and closes it quietly behind her, wincing at the way the hinges squeak in protest. She takes another deep breath with her back against the door and then begins the walk to her bed, flopping down face first upon reaching her destination. The warmth of her blankets and pillows provide a little comfort from the overbearing silence and she pulls her childhood stuffed toy, an owl her uncle got for her as a baby, closer to her chest. She's on her way to falling asleep when she hears a knock at the door.
"Ah, sorry, kiddo. Didn't mean to wake you up," her uncle Asahi is on the other side when she answers it, much to her relief. "Just thought I heard you come in. Wanted to make sure you got in safe."
"It's okay, I wasn't asleep. Sorry, I saw mom was, though, so I assumed you were, too."
"I told her I'd stay up and wait for you."
"Oh," that twinge of guilt is back, "Sorry, I guess I should have asked to call home and let you know I'd be back late."
Asahi waves his hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it, Little Bird. I mean, yes. Call next time. But you're home safe and that's what matters. I'll let Natsumo know in the morning—"
"Actually…" Tori interrupts, "Can you maybe…not tell her how late I came home…" She stares down at her feet, shuffling them nervously.
Asahi laughs softly, mussing up her hair, "I'll tell her you came home right after she went to bed."
"How long ago was that…?"
"About an hour and a half ago," he winks and Tori frowns. "Get some sleep, Little Bird. I love you."
She nods. "I love you, too. Goodnight." She falls asleep hugging her plush owl, grateful for Asahi's cover story and dreaming of ways to improve her clay substitution.
With the sunlight flooding through her window, the colors on Tori's bedroom wall begin to dance as she wakes up. Painted birds fly through airbrushed clouds, accompanied by actual birdsong from outside. She doesn't take long to wake up, greeting the morning with a hearty stretch to get her body ready for the day. She notices some muscle soreness from yesterday's spar and beams with pride at a large bruise blooming on her calf from Mamoru's staff. They didn't make any plans together today, Mamoru has a mission tomorrow to prepare for, so she decides to spend the day at home. It would hopefully make up for being gone so long yesterday, and she has been neglecting the ceramics projects on her shelf, anyway.
Knock knock knock.
She nearly drops the large bird-shaped urn she's reaching for on the upper shelf at the sound of the knock on her door. She yelps as she stumbles to catch it, but succeeds in doing so before it hits the ground.
"Tori?" Her mother's voice inquires from the other side of the door. Tori hears the doorknob start to turn, but stop before the door could open. She sighs in relief and sets the urn gently down on her worktable before answering the door.
"Sorry! I knocked something over," she apologizes, opening the door for her mom to come in. Natsumo frowns, but comes in when Tori moves aside for her. Tori takes a seat at her worktable and notices her mother's gaze linger on her sculpture. "I wanted to try making something bigger than usual," she explains, shyly showing off the work-in-progress, "I should have thought better about putting it on the top shelf, though, I guess."
"You weren't home for dinner last night," Natsumo watches the urn but neglects to acknowledge it verbally. Straight to the point, as always. Tori shrinks.
"I'm sorry. I should have called."
Natsumo's lips tighten in a straight line, but they say nothing.
"I was going to eat those leftovers for lunch, though! I promise I'll call next time I know I'll be out late!"
"I hope Mamoru walked you home, at least."
Tori nods, avoiding eye-contact. She knew the routine, at this point. Just say nod and "Yes, ma'am", "Sorry, ma'am", and try not to attract too much attention for a couple of days.
"What could you two possibly be doing that keeps you out all day and all night?"
Tori hesitates, not ready to be put on the spot so early in the morning, "Mamoru's just working really hard for the jonin promotion. I just go out there to keep him company. Trust me, he'd actually be out there all night if it weren't for me," she answers lightheartedly, but she can tell her mother isn't buying it.
Natsumo's eyes dart to the fresh bruise on Tori's leg, "You got that just from keeping him company?"
Tori bites her lip, shifting in her seat in a fruitless attempt to hide the injury she had felt so proud of just moments ago. She didn't have an excuse ready.
Natsumo takes a deep breath, "No more, Tori. You'll be home for dinner from now on. And you're staying home this week."
"What!?" Tori leaps from her chair, "That's not fair!"
"It's not fair that we stay up late waiting for you to come home every night."
"It's not every night…"
"I'm sure Mamoru can handle training on his own," Natsumo ignores Tori's aside, "He might even get more done without any distractions."
Tori feels a pang in her chest at that word. Distractions. Had she really been distracting him? No… he would have said something… right? She wasn't a distraction. She tries to argue, "But—"
"No," Natsumo retorts, her brow creasing in the center of her forehead, "I know what's going on. No more dancing around this. There's no reason for me to go along with all of these excuses. You've learned enough for self-defense, I won't have you learning jutsu behind my back any longer."
Tori can feel her face flush in anger and frustration. She wants to shout, cry, fight back, anything, but the words just aren't coming to her. Maybe, deep down, she knows it's pointless. Asahi does his best to cover for her when she asks, but even he's powerless when her mother puts her foot down on something. So she stands there, fists clenched, gaze fixed on the floor in some vain attempt to keep the tears from falling.
Natsumo takes another deep breath and adjusts herself, averting her gaze and frowning as if this hurts her just as much. "I'll bring your lunch to you, later. So you can focus on your project today," she says, voice steadying itself, as she gestures finally to Tori's urn.
Tori doesn't look up. A loud silence fills the room. Natsumo seems to accept this as the end of the conversation. She nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Tori waits until she hears her mother's footprints disappear down the hall before letting the floodgates open. She takes a seat at her worktable again, attempting to soothe the sobs that shake through her. She wants to forget, tries to work through it, absentmindedly wetting the clay in her hands for reworking, but tears cloud her vision and emotions cloud her thoughts. In a rush of anger, she tosses the urn to the floor. The damp clay thuds against the floor in a way that is thoroughly unsatisfying. The vessel collapses in on itself and the once carefully sculpted wings mangle into something unrecognizable. Tori watches as gravity does its work, silently wishing for something more spectacular to show for her outburst. Listlessly, she gets up from her seat and crawls back into bed, covers her face in the blankets, and tries to fall back asleep.
When she wakes up again, the urn has flattened into an unrecognizable lump on the floor. Her eyes feel swollen and dry, but her pillow is slightly damp against her cheek.
Knock knock.
Tori mutters a "Come in", but it's muffled against the pillow.
"I'm just bringing your lunch," Asahi peeks through the crack in the door.
Tori pulls herself into what could technically be classified as upright. "Mom said she would do that," she grumbles. Not that she wanted to see her mother again today, just annoyed she couldn't even follow through on that.
"She had an unexpected errand to run," Asahi explains, waiting for permission to enter. Tori nods him in, but he stops in his tracks at the sight of the ruined art project. "Trying something new?" he attempts lighthearted conversation.
"Something like that…"
"Hm…Avant-garde."
Tori stifles a laugh as Asahi hands the plate over to her.
"You mind if I sit with you for a bit, Little Bird?" Tori nods, scooting over to make room for him on the bed. He grunts when he sits down.
"So, I guess she didn't buy it?" Tori peers up at her uncle through her bangs.
"Hm? Oh, that you came home right after she went to bed? No, she didn't buy it."
"Ugh!" She throws herself backwards onto her pillows, pulling her owl back into a tight embrace. "I guess there's nothing you can tell her either?"
He shakes his head, "Sorry, kiddo. This one's out of my hands."
Tori's lip juts out in a pout, but she knows not even puppy-dog eyes can get her out of this one. The two sit in silence for a moment.
"You know she care—"
"I know she cares about me and wants the best for me…" she interrupts, turning over so her back is facing him. Same spiel as always. "It sure as hell doesn't always feel like it…"
Asahi's lips pull into tight melancholy smile but he stays silent a while longer. He takes a deep inhale, holding it until Tori does the same, and they both exhale.
"I'm sorry," Tori breaks the silence, but doesn't turn over, "I just don't understand her at all."
"If it means anything, I don't think she understands you either."
"Yeah, I can tell…"
"It's funny, though," Asahi ponders, "I think if you both tried, you'd find you're a lot more alike than you think."
Tori pouts. "It's not like she ever tells me anything… I don't know the first thing about her."
That makes Asahi laugh. "Yeah, she's not going to tell you anything… But maybe if you search hard enough," he winks, giving Tori's shoulder a firm squeeze before getting back on his feet with another grunt. "Come help me with something for a second, will you? I've got some things I was going through."
Tori turns her head to nod, taking his hand when he reaches out to help her up. She follows him to the living room where three boxes sat in front of the couch, two of them filled to the brim with what seemed like miscellaneous trinkets, books, and photos.
"This is the last of it all. Turns out we had a lot more stuff lying around than I thought. I got most of it done, but my back ain't what it used to be." Asahi takes a seat on the couch in front of one of the full boxes and gestures for Tori to sit as well. "Sorry to bother you for just one box, but it'd be a big help."
"It's no problem!" Tori follows his lead, "What made you want to do this today?"
"Hm? Oh," Asahi looks up from the photograph he's holding, "'S just good to take a trip down memory lane once in a while, don't you think?" His smile looks a little melancholy as he gingerly slides the photograph back into its album and places the book into the empty box. "Just go ahead and put anything you think we should keep into this empty one."
Tori nods, turning her attention to her own box. "Oh, man! I can't believe y'all kept this!" She picks up a sculpted bird from the top of the pile, turning it over in her hands. It fits perfectly in her palm. "I made this like three years ago, it's so bad!" She picks apart the flaws in her head as she studies it— the head was way too big and its weight had caused the neck to crack while drying. She had tried to patch it up but it just made everything lumpy and ugly. Yet, she feels a tinge of pride in her core looking at it, remnants of the pride she had felt when she first made it.
"I like it, look how you worked the extra clay into feather shapes to hide the cracks," he points at the globs of clay she had been silently criticizing, "You don't have to keep it, but it does make your improvement more obvious, too."
Tori ruminates on it for a little while longer. It is ugly. The stuff she makes now is so much better. She's not sure why she's so hesitant to toss it, and yet, something compels her to put it in the "keep" box instead.
It doesn't take them long to get through their boxes, the majority of the contents within being long-forgotten junk. Between the two of them, the "keep" box was filled only about halfway with memories and keepsakes. From the very bottom of her box, Tori removes a small, leatherbound book. She doesn't think much about taking a peek at what's inside, expecting to find miscellaneous notes or maybe some old doodles. She takes a second, skims the random page she opened to, and suddenly slams it shut, eyes wide.
"You found something?" Asahi perks up at the noise.
"Huh? Oh! It's um just an old sketchbook!" She lies, "Actually, can I hold onto this? It's got some good ideas in it! I want to revist them!"
Asahi's eyebrows furrow a bit suspiciously, but he relents, "Sure, it's your's after all. Do what you want with it. If your box is empty, you can go ahead and rest, too. Don't know if you're tall enough to put this stuff back on the top shelf, Little Bird." He loves to tease her about her height (not her fault he's freakishly tall for their family!), but she thanks him nonetheless.
Now with Asahi's permission, Tori stands and walks briskly (but not too briskly!) back to her room with the book. She closes the door behind her before wondering if that looked suspicious. She decides to crack it just barely, taking a peek into the hallway just in case, but Asahi is indeed busy with picking up the "keep" box.
She wastes no time tossing herself onto her bed, book in hand, flipping through the pages. At first she skims, just to make sure this book is, indeed, what she thinks it is. The handwriting is definitely her mother's, and the dates before each entry confirm her suspicions, so she returns to the first page, reading the initial entry in its entirety.
July 29, year 80
I don't know what I'm doing. I know this is reckless, but what other choice do I have. They killed him. I wasn't supposed to know, but now I do. Asahi won't listen. He's sad too, of course, but he says there's nothing we can do, now. The war is over and the clan is finally in decent standing with the village.
At least, as far as he knows. I'm not exactly certain how much he knows, given we aren't exactly in good standing with the clan, anymore. Why should we care?
My bags are packed. I probably shouldn't keep my forehead protector on me anymore. The village might end up looking for me. Not that they probably care very much. It's not like this secret is one of particular importance to them.
Just to me.
Maybe Asahi is right, maybe I can't do anything about it now, but I can at least leave. I can at least stop fighting for the village that had my father killed.
I feel crazy. Was anything else a lie? What have I been fighting for all this time? Where will I even go?
I'll figure it out. I just have to keep moving.
I guess now's as good a time as ever to start a diary. I'll die before I let them take me back. This diary can tell my story then.
Tori isn't sure what to think, end every new entry bombards her with new information. Everything she's known about her mother is currently blowing up in her face.
Her mother, who has refused to let her begin ninja training for 16 years.
Her mother, who seems to want nothing more than to live each day holed up in her room at home.
That mother, Aozora Natsumo, was a rogue ninja? It's too much to believe.
She reads until it's too dark outside to see the pages clearly. She should go to bed, she should forget about everything she read and hide the diary some place safe, maybe even sneak it back into the "keep" box with the rest of her family's memories. But that's not what she does.
I have to go tell Mamoru.
And some bonus doodles I did while working on this:
