Shisui hadn't known peace since the Nugget Incident.
At first, it was guilt. The solemn realization that he had betrayed not just a child's trust, but a culinary revolution. But guilt alone was manageable. What followed was something else entirely.
It began subtly.
A few days after the incident, he'd been walking to his favorite dango shop, humming a tune to himself, trying to focus on life's sweet joys and not the memory of Tamamo's broken expression. As he passed by an alley, something made him stop. A tingle at the back of his neck. Slowly, he turned his head.
There, at the far end of the alleyway, stood a small figure. Silent. Unmoving. Sharingan glowing faintly beneath a shadowed fringe of black hair.
Tamamo.
He blinked—and she was gone.
Shisui quickened his pace. Dango didn't sound so appealing anymore.
---
Later that day, he was training with Itachi by the riverbed.
"Focus," Itachi said, kunai in hand.
Shisui nodded, attempting to re-center himself. He darted forward in a blur, feinted left, and just as he prepared to strike—
Whistle.
High. Low. Two notes. Barely audible. Just enough to crawl into his spine.
(A/N: Think Death from Puss in Boots.)
Shisui froze.
"Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Itachi asked, frowning.
Shisui turned toward the woods.
She was standing beneath a tree. Arms crossed. Sharingan spinning slowly. Judging. Waiting.
"She's here," Shisui whispered.
"What are you talking about—"
"She's here!"
Without hesitation, Shisui vanished.
Itachi was left standing alone, half-confused, half-resigned. "Traitor," he muttered.
---
That night, Shisui dreamed.
He was crowned the Hokage of a chicken nugget-themed village. He wore a robe of golden breading. The villagers chanted his name. He raised his hand to speak—
Whistle.
He turned.
Tamamo stood in the crowd, face blank, holding a sign that read THIEF.
He awoke in a cold sweat, flinging the blanket across the room.
"It's just a dream," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "She can't haunt dreams. Right?"
He stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the light. The room filled with soft yellow glow as he leaned over the sink, brushing his teeth, trying to calm himself.
He looked up.
Behind him, in the mirror's reflection, stood a small flour-covered girl with dead eyes.
He spun around, toothbrush in hand like a kunai.
Nothing.
The only sound was the slow drip of the faucet and his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.
He stopped sleeping after that.
Paranoia set in hard. Every corner he turned, every door he opened, every whisper of wind in the trees—he flinched. He saw her at the training grounds. He saw her across the river. Once, even inside the Hokage Tower during a mission debrief with Lord Third.
"Shisui," the Third Hokage asked mildly, "Why are you hiding under my desk?"
"Field exercise," he replied with a cracked grin.
—-
He couldn't take it anymore.
One evening, under a heavy dusk sky, he followed a hunch and sought her out.
A clearing in the forest, quiet and veiled in mist. Tamamo sat in the center, back turned, gently petting a cat curled in her lap. She didn't look up.
"I knew you'd come," Tamamo murmured, voice low and otherworldly — the exact pitch of a haunted child in a horror story right before the jump scare.
Shisui dropped to his knees like a man before judgment.
"I beg forgiveness," he cried, bowing so low his forehead touched the dirt. "I didn't mean to eat the last one! They were just—so good. I thought there were more!"
The cat meowed.
Tamamo didn't turn.
"I'll do anything," Shisui continued, dramatically throwing his arms wide. "You want my mission pay? My prized kunai? My dango stash? My entire dango stash?"
No reply.
"…My chakra points?"
Tamamo slowly turned her head.
Her eyes were still and empty. "You can't give back what was taken."
Shisui whimpered. "Then what do I do?"
"Teach me," she said softly.
He blinked. "Teach you?"
"The Body Flicker," she said.
He hesitated. "That's a dangerous move for someone your size—"
Her Sharingan flared.
"On second thought, I'll start tomorrow. We'll go over the theory, technique, and proper dramatic exit timing."
He made a deal with the devil.
Tamamo nodded once. "And bring snacks… the good kind."
Shisui bowed his head once more.
His soul had been spared.
But he would never eat another nugget again.
Bonus Scene 1: Mikoto's Report
"Shisui's been acting strange," Mikoto said, sipping her tea.
"Tamamo got to him," Itachi replied simply.
Sasuke didn't look up from his bowl. "She was whistling at her reflection during the night. For half an hour. Didn't blink once."
Fugaku paused mid-scroll. "She learned intimidation tactics. Good."
Mikoto sighed. "She learned it from you."
Bonus Scene 2: The Final Whisper
That night, just before bed, Shisui settled beneath his blanket with a sigh.
No dreams. No ghosts. Just rest.
Then.
From the tree outside his window:
Whistle.
High.
Low.
Higher.
His scream echoed into the stars, swallowed by the night.
A single, unhinged giggle followed — soft, distant… and far too satisfied.