Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The Sleeping Tyrant

Konoha Year 31.

Class 3-A was eerily silent, the sunlight making the chalk dust drift lazily in the air.

At the back of the classroom, by the window in the so-called "Protagonist's Seat," eight-year-old Kamiyama Ryo was fast asleep.

His chin was pressed firmly against the desk, as if glued there. His eyelids were too heavy to lift, and his entire being radiated: "I'm done, I'm exhausted, just let me sleep."

The afternoon sun shone on his strikingly red hair, but it failed to wake him.

At the front of the classroom came a few stifled giggles, like the buzzing of mosquitoes.

Ryo rubbed his face against the desk in irritation, which only made the sharp lines of his jaw stand out more.

Just then, the teacher, Kimura Shū, pushed open the door, bringing in a little girl.

Her red hair blazed like fire, framing a small, round, and rather cute face.

"Quiet down, class!" Kimura Shū's voice broke through the drowsy air in the back. "We have a new student joining us today." He gestured for the red-haired girl to step forward.

The girl took a deep breath, then shouted bravely, "H-hello, everyone! I'm Uzumaki Kushina, 'ttebane!" Her voice was crisp, but the strange, rolled-tongue verbal tic at the end stood out clearly.

That single shout stirred up a hornet's nest.

The entire class burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! Look at that hair!"

"It's as red as a tomato!"

"Hey, hey, her face is all red now, she looks even more like one!"

The jeers poured down without mercy. Kushina felt like a stone sinking into mud, sinking deeper and deeper.

Her throat tightened. She blinked furiously, trying to hold back tears. But no matter what, they welled up, and her vision blurred.

No! She couldn't just take it. She suddenly looked up and, with a desperate shout, declared, "My dream is to become the first female Hokage of Konoha Village!"

That was like pouring oil on the fire. The laughter grew louder, full of mockery.

"Hahaha, she's insane!"

"An outsider, a red tomato, wants to be Hokage?"

"Go back to your countryside home!"

"Daydreamer! You don't deserve it!"

The words stabbed her like thorny knives. Kushina's face burned hot, she couldn't tell if it was from shame or anger.

This time, she couldn't hold back her tears. She threw her head back hard, trying to stop them from falling.

Kimura Shū frowned, about to speak, but his voice was swallowed by the uproar.

Minato Namikaze, sitting near the podium, couldn't stand it anymore. Seeing Kushina's eyes turn red, determination surged in him. His hands braced on the desk, fingers turning white, ready to stand and defend her.

But then,

"Shut up!"

The roar, like a thunderclap, drowned out everything. "You're too damn loud! Are you tired of living?!"

The classroom instantly froze.

All laughter, all mockery, all whispers vanished as though their throats had been seized.

Every eye, filled with shock and disbelief, swish, turned to the back by the window.

A living nightmare had awakened.

Ryo was awake.

He lifted his head from the desk with a sharp crack of his neck that echoed in the dead silence.

He opened his eyelids, revealing silver-gray eyes filled only with irritation at being woken and a fierce, cutting intensity as they swept across the class.

Those caught in his gaze felt as though a cold wind had sliced through them. The loudest laughers from earlier shrank their necks, not daring to breathe.

Oh no!!!

They had been so busy mocking the new red-haired girl that they forgot the truly terrifying redhead in this class.

Ryo's red hair, to them, was a warning sign, a symbol of violence. He was absolutely not someone to provoke.

Why?

Because when he first entered the academy at six, his red hair had drawn the same mockery and bullying.

His family was poor and without backing, his parents gone, leaving only a few distant and insignificant Senju relatives.

However, Ryo had a cheat with a somewhat cliché name, "the Strongest Legacy System." Likely due to his red hair, it first granted him the legacy of Red-Haired Shanks, the Yonko from the One Piece world.

After the system's modification, Ryo inherited Shanks's physique. Even as a child, he became abnormally strong, with passive skills like massive stamina and rapid regeneration, a blend of Shanks's traits and Senju blood, plus 30% of Shanks's combat experience and techniques. As Ryo grew, the system would gradually unlock more, until he inherited everything Shanks possessed.

(Note: 30% = Jonin, 30–60% = Jonin–Kage, 60–80% = Kage–Super Kage, 80–100% = Super Kage.)

(System condition: Next stage unlocks only when Ryo fully digests the current inheritance and his body is strong enough.)

Moreover, Ryo was inherently ruthless and extremely hardworking.

The result went without saying.

At the academy, whether it was seniors bullying juniors or classmates joining in mockery, anyone who dared insult his red hair was "persuaded" physically by his fists.

The words "Don't leave after school" were no joke when coming from him, they struck fear in everyone's heart.

Could the teachers control him?

The truth was, most of them, after weighing their own strength, weren't even sure they could subdue this ferocious little monster.

With this fearsome reputation, Ryo reigned at the top of Class 3-A, no, the entire academy.

For three years, everyone lived under his shadow, miserable.

All knew that once this red-haired boy, who loved to sleep, opened his eyes, he was a human T-Rex.

So, his single low growl of morning temper was enough, the class instantly went silent.

Kushina was completely bewildered. What had just happened?

…

"Hmph! Boring!" Ryo saw the cowards shrink like quails and his irritation faded slightly.

He glared around the room, his gaze like a blade scraping across faces, full of warning: Make another sound? I'll show you what happens when you interrupt my sleep.

Satisfied, Ryo slammed his head back onto the desk with a thud, sticking himself there once more.

In short, even if the world ended, no one was allowed to disturb Ryo's sleep.

As for why he was always so sleepy?

He couldn't help it.

Ryo was just an ordinary poor kid in Konoha. His ancestors were once Senju, but ever since the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju, disbanded the clan and everyone gave up the surname, by Ryo's parents' generation, almost nothing was left.

His parents died early, leaving only a run-down house where heavy rain outside meant rain inside as well.

Plus a few cheap-sounding C-rank ninjutsu scrolls, forget about anything like Kage Bunshin, and meager savings that weren't even enough to pick his teeth.

And worse, Ryo's body.

"He had inherited the iron-blooded physique of Shanks. His appetite was bottomless."

How long could his parents' pitiful inheritance last? It was gone in an instant.

On top of that, Ryo trained like a maniac.

So at night, after training, he had to sneak to the outskirts of the Forest of Death to hunt for food, wild rabbits, fruits, wild boars, anything edible.

For two years of school, this was his routine.

The result, class in the daytime was his only recharge time.

That's why his temper was so bad.

Being woken from deep sleep? Morning grumpiness, MAX.

Vaguely, he thought he heard someone mocking his red hair again?

Unforgivable. Ryo's mental blacklist was already noting down names.

Damn it, wait until after school. Let's see how I deal with you clueless brats.

As for the new student?

What new student?

His eyelids weighed a ton, his brain hadn't left deep sleep mode, so he hadn't even noticed an extra person at the front of the room, let alone who it was.

…

The classroom air froze solid.

Seeing the terrifying redhead flop back down and resume snoring, everyone let out an extremely quiet, relieved breath, as though surviving a disaster.

"Shhh," "Hoo," "Softer! Don't wake him again!"

The students even held their breath, terrified of disturbing the sleeping volcano again.

The ones who had mocked Kushina earlier were drenched in cold sweat. Had Ryo heard them insulting red hair? If so, they were doomed.

"Kushina-chan," the teacher at the podium sighed in relief, lowering his voice unconsciously as if meeting someone in secret. "Find yourself a seat."

Kushina still had a faint blush of anger on her cheeks, her light blue eyes misty.

She looked around, clutching the hem of her clothes nervously.

Empty? Empty? Empty… The only empty seat was next to that terrifying red-haired boy.

Under the whole class's sympathetic and gloating eyes, as if watching someone march to their death, Kushina gathered her courage. Step by step, she moved softly to the window seat.

Her heart pounded like a drum. She carefully pulled out the chair, making almost no sound, then quickly sat like a little rabbit.

"Ahem… Alright, class, let's… continue the lesson." The teacher cleared his throat, still barely louder than a mosquito, and hurriedly resumed lecturing to divert attention.

Kushina quietly turned her head to observe the boy beside her, his flame-red hair buried in his arms as he slept soundly.

Although he had been terrifying just now, his eyes as sharp as knives, he had helped her, hadn't he?

Everyone mocked and isolated her, but he hadn't joined them. And he had the same red hair as her.

Kushina remembered Grandma Mito's gentle words, "Make lots of friends at school."

Her small fist clenched under the desk, cheering herself on.

Yes! Isn't this her chance to make her first friend? He's the one!

"Um…" Kushina summoned the greatest courage of her life, cheeks flushing again. She leaned slightly toward Ryo, voice soft and timid, full of twelve-thousand percent anticipation. She whispered to the red-haired boy with his head buried in his arms, "H-hello! My name is Uzumaki Kushina. Can we… be friends?"

After her words fell, only the teacher's low lecture and the occasional shhk of chalk on the board could be heard.

Kushina held her breath, waiting.

Nervous? Excited? Both.

One second… two seconds…

His reply, "Hoo… snore… hoo…"

Soft, steady snores rose from the red-haired boy's head.

Kushina: (?_?)…

Her expression froze. Her blue eyes blinked, then blinked again, staring at the unresponsive sleeper.

At that moment, Kushina felt as though a tomato had hit her on the head, dull, sour, and embarrassing.

Her first attempt to make a friend, defeated by snoring?!

Her balloon of courage went poof, completely deflated.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: The Straight Man and the Fiery Girl

Ding-a-ling-a-ling—!

Oh, thank heavens. The dismissal bell was practically the sound of angels.

Their teacher, Kimura Shū, almost instantly clapped his lesson plan shut. Before he could even finish his sentence, the small group of kids who had laughed the loudest and shouted the cruelest words earlier jumped up from their seats as if springs had gone off under them, shooting up with a "whoosh."

They moved so fast, it was like a pack of starving wild dogs was chasing them. Scrambling and stumbling, they didn't even have time to put their backpacks on properly, rushing out the classroom door with a clatter, stirring up a gust of wind that sent chalk dust flying from the podium.

Why were they running so fast?

Obviously!

They knew perfectly well that when they mocked the new red-haired student earlier, their voices were as loud as loudspeakers. The problem was—the words "red-haired"!

There were only two redheads in the room.

One was the new, tomato-headed girl, easy to bully. The other… was sleeping by the window, the one whose name alone was enough to make Ninja Academy students break into a cold sweat—Kamiyama Ryo.

They hadn't forgotten the look in Ryo's eyes when he woke up, saying, "You're too damn loud! Are you tired of living?!"

That gaze was as cold as a blade scraping bone. It had stunned them with fear at the time, and thinking about it now still made their hair stand on end.

Shouldn't they get out of here as fast as possible?

Were they supposed to stay and wait until the red-haired tyrant fully woke up, remembered everything, and then gave them a "loving greeting" on the way home?

Remembering the miserable state of those who had been "greeted" by Ryo's fists in the past…

Forget it! Running faster might just save their lives!

"Yawn—"

In the last row by the window, the red-haired boy who had been sleeping soundly finally stirred.

Ryo stretched and let out a long yawn, his bones popping.

That nap was truly comfortable.

All the irritation from earlier had completely vanished. After a full rest, he felt refreshed.

The fierce, menacing look on his face was gone, his brows relaxed. Coupled with his undeniably handsome features, he gave off a strangely gentle impression.

There was no helping it. Ryo was at his core a grinder, not some natural-born killer.

As a good young man who had grown up in a relatively peaceful environment in his previous life, he didn't have twisted thoughts. He just had a bad temper, extreme morning grumpiness, and slightly stronger-than-average fists.

After a good sleep, he was like a fully charged battery, calm and steady.

Ryo rubbed his eyes, ready to grab his bag and head home to feed his bottomless stomach and then plan his evening training regimen…

"You're awake!"

A clear voice suddenly came from beside him, carrying a trace of… resentment?

Ryo was startled. Only then did he realize that the desk next to him, which had always been empty, now had someone sitting there.

A little girl, with the same fiery red hair as his own. Her round, cute face was staring at him with light blue eyes, her small mouth slightly pouted.

"You are?" Ryo hadn't registered it yet.

He had just woken up, and his mind was still fuzzy.

All that filled his head were the words: "school's out," "hungry," "eat," "train."

Kushina looked at Ryo's confused expression, and the frustration in her heart surged again.

She remembered earlier, when she had bravely and nervously asked, "let's be friends," and his response had been nothing but steady snoring?

Even more frustrating!

She took a deep breath, swallowed her irritation, and almost exactly repeated her actions from earlier. She stiffly introduced herself again: "H-hello! My name is Uzumaki Kushina. Can… can we be friends?"

Though her tone carried some indignation, there was still hope in her eyes.

After all, this was the only one with the same red hair as her, who hadn't mocked her, and had even helped her.

Ryo blinked at the pouting red-haired girl, puzzled.

Oh… right. He remembered now!

It seemed that when he was half-asleep, the homeroom teacher, Kimura Shū, had brought in a new student.

Wait… Uzumaki Kushina?

Uzumaki… red hair… married a blond guy in the future… gave birth to the Child of Prophecy?!

Naruto's mom?!

Now Ryo was wide awake.

"Ah! Oh, oh!" He quickly snapped back. The girl was waiting for his answer. "My name is Kamiyama Ryo. Hello, nice to meet you!"

His tone was calm, not fierce at all.

Ryo wasn't actually hard to talk to, as long as you didn't insult his red hair, call him "tomato head," or make noise while he was sleeping. When he was in a normal state, he wasn't unreasonable.

It was just that his "persuasion" record with his fists over the past two years was too notorious, and since he only came to class to sleep, no one dared talk to him.

So his "keep away" aura had been maintained all this time.

Kushina, this fearless (or clueless) warrior, was the first to approach him.

Seeing Ryo respond so easily in a gentle tone, the brave Kushina's temper suddenly flared.

She had stared at him all afternoon just to make friends.

Ryo, meanwhile, had snored the whole time.

Even though his face was unfairly handsome, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"Hmph!" Kushina wrinkled her little nose. "Ryo-kun has excellent sleep quality! Your eyelashes didn't even twitch all afternoon! I called you several times and you didn't wake up!" Her tone was part complaint, part grievance, and part "you owe me."

Ryo looked at her with a blank expression. "What…?"

Forgive his straight-laced mind, but he simply didn't understand why Kushina was so angry.

The only thought in his mind was: school's out, time to eat.

"Um? Kushina-chan, do you still need something? If not, school's out. I'm going home!" Ryo said directly.

To this grinder, chatting and making friends didn't compare to going home to eat and prepare for training. His evening plan of weighted running and ten thousand sword swings was waiting.

Socializing with an eight-year-old girl? Please. He had no interest, nor the time.

Besides, he had vaguely felt something watching him earlier, most likely related to this girl. Trouble magnets should be avoided.

He had no time for romance. At least not now. This wasn't the time to chase girls, even if she was the future Hokage's mother. His only goal was to grind for strength and avoid dying as a nameless casualty in the coming Second Great Ninja War.

Survive. Get stronger. That was it.

"Hmph! Nothing!" Kushina was nearly choked by his bluntness. Her big eyes rolled fiercely, and she shouted inwardly: "Stupid blockhead! I took the initiative! And his attitude is this bad? Am I, Uzumaki Kushina, not cute?!"

Ryo didn't notice her resentment. Once she said "nothing," he immediately relaxed. "Alright. I've got things to do, so I'm leaving. See you tomorrow, Kushina-chan!"

Before he even finished, he grabbed his faded, tattered backpack. Moving quickly, he strode out the classroom door without looking back, his figure casual and carefree.

Kushina watched his red hair vanish through the door, her small chest heaving with anger.

She suddenly stood up, faced the door, and wrinkled her nose with all her might, letting out a loud, heartfelt protest:

"Hmph—!!!"

Kamiyama Ryo. She would remember him!

(To be continued.)

Chapter 3: Kushina’s “Problem”

The sun slanted westward, casting a dazzling golden glow over Konoha.

Kushina kicked a small stone with her foot as she trudged toward the old house in the Senju clan compound.

Her vibrant red hair seemed to burn even brighter in the setting sun, but it only made the lingering traces of anger on her round, cute face more obvious. She was still sulking over Ryo.

"Hmph! Stupid jock! Blockhead!" She kicked another stone far away, muttering under her breath. "I… I was so proactive! Sleeping! All he does is sleep! His snores are louder than anything!"

The memory of her courage that afternoon made her cheeks burn again, her heart had pounded like a drum when she walked up to him, speaking in the softest voice she'd ever managed. And what did she get in return? A loud, drawn-out "Huuu… rrr… mmph…" from him in his sleep.

When she entered the familiar courtyard, the sight of the heavy wooden door lifted her mood. A brilliant smile stretched across her face as she pushed the door open and ran inside.

"Grandma Mito! I'm home!"

Her voice was like a stone dropped into calm water.

The light inside was much softer. Uzumaki Mito sat on the tatami near the courtyard with a steaming cup of tea in front of her.

Time seemed to have touched only her eyes; the Yin Seal kept her appearance like that of a gentle maiden.

Seeing Kushina rush in like a little flame, Mito's eyes curved into a smile.

"You're back? How was school today?" Mito's voice was as gentle as a spring breeze. "Did you make any new friends?" She knew too well what this girl, whose clan had been destroyed and country lost, needed—acceptance, recognition, new bonds. Those were the remedies for her wounds.

"New friends?" A spirited female voice chimed in from the side.

Tsunade, with long golden hair and a tall figure, sat cross-legged, munching on senbei. Her eyes lit up at the question, and she didn't even bother brushing off the crumbs on her clothes.

Beside her sat Nawaki, a little older, flipping through a basic ninjutsu book. At Kushina's words, he also looked up curiously.

Tsunade put her senbei down on the low table, leaning forward like a big sister. "Quick, tell me! Did anyone bully you at school? Tell your big sister, and I'll have Nawaki teach them a lesson!" She jabbed her elbow into him, her eyes sharp with command. "Right, Nawaki?"

Nawaki almost dropped his book, rubbing his shoulder as he straightened. "Right, right, right! Sis is right! Kushina, don't worry! If anyone dares bully you, just tell me. I'll make sure they regret ever stepping into the academy!"

As the eldest grandson of the Senju in this generation, it was only natural for him to protect this adorable little sister. At school, except for a few geniuses (and a certain redhead), he truly feared no one.

Kushina felt warmth spread in her chest as she saw their concerned eyes.

Mito was her pillar, and Tsunade and Nawaki were like blazing flames that melted away the chill left by the fall of the Uzumaki.

She walked over to Mito's side, nestling close. The gloom on her face faded, replaced with a hint of childish charm.

"No, no one bullied me," she shook her head, then suddenly brightened. "I just met a… uh, a classmate. His hair is red, just like mine!"

"Oh? Red?" Tsunade's gossiping spark immediately caught fire.

She let out a meaningful "oh" and grinned mischievously, leaning forward even more. "A red-haired classmate that caught your attention? Tell me, is that kid especially handsome?" She deliberately emphasized "especially handsome," nudging Kushina lightly. "Do you like him?"

"Big Sister Tsunade!" Kushina's face flushed red like a ripe cherry tomato.

She shot up from Mito's side, flustered and shy. "You… what nonsense are you talking about! I don't like him at all!" She stomped her foot and then immediately turned, diving into Mito's embrace, burying her burning face as she wriggled and whined, "Grandma Mito! Look at Big Sister Tsunade! She's bullying me!"

Mito chuckled, swayed by Kushina's sudden dive, and gently patted her back as if she were soothing a ruffled kitten. "Alright, alright, Tsunade is just teasing you." She gave her mischievous granddaughter a warning look.

Tsunade only laughed, ignoring Kushina's complaint, her grin widening as if she'd just gotten more ammo. "Don't like him? Then you must hate him, right? Did that kid upset you?"

Her expression shifted in an instant, going from playful gossip to protective big sister. Her gaze snapped toward Nawaki, sharp as a blade. "Nawaki! Did you hear that? Tomorrow, find that red-haired brat named Ryo and give him a proper 'greeting' from me! Let him know what happens when someone upsets our Kushina!"

"Uh… Ryo?!" Nawaki, who a moment ago had been eager to play hero, froze. His smile vanished as if someone had grabbed his throat.

His eyes widened in horror. "Sis! You… you want me to die?!"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Tsunade blinked, completely caught off guard by his reaction.

What was so special about this kid named Ryo?

Nawaki swallowed, remembering the countless stories floating around, his palms sweating. "Sis, you've been away from the academy for years, so it's normal you don't know. But… but…"

He stammered, his eyes full of lingering fear. "That redhead, his name's Ryo! Kamiyama Ryo from Class 3-A! He's the academy's infamous little tyrant! He fights like a monster, he's ridiculously strong, and he's vicious! I heard some older students tried to teach him a lesson, but he knocked their front teeth out! Even the teachers back off when he gets mad! You want me to go 'greet' him? Forget it! I'll end up in the hospital first!"

The words poured out like a machine gun, and Nawaki still didn't think it was enough. He added, "That red hair of his is basically a danger signal in the academy! Nobody dares mess with him! Whoever does, ends up unlucky. Seriously!"

Nawaki desperately wanted his sister to understand the situation.

In short, Ryo was terrifying, and his record spoke for itself.

Kushina, listening nearby, was a little stunned.

Ryo? A tyrant? Even the teachers avoided him?

She unconsciously recalled the cold, bloodthirsty look in his eyes when he was woken up in class. The way the entire room had gone silent instantly… it didn't seem impossible.

But when school ended earlier, hadn't he seemed harmless?

He just spoke stiffly. A stupid jock! Hmph!

Tsunade finally dropped her playful act, her brows furrowing. "That strong…" She had no impression of this Ryo.

Mito, who had been gently patting Kushina's back, shifted her gaze, her eyes distant yet knowing. She spoke softly.

"Red hair… named Ryo…" Her hand stroked Kushina's soft red locks as her expression grew thoughtful. "Then Grandma knows who it is."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 4: Tyrannosaurus in Disguise

Uzumaki Mito paused for a moment, as if recalling the past.

Back when Ryo first enrolled, because of his striking red hair, the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had personally visited her.

At first, the Hokage thought a descendant of the Uzumaki clan had appeared in Konoha. After all, the Uzumaki clan had carried red hair for generations and was renowned as ideal vessels for sealing Tailed Beasts.

But after careful investigation, it was discovered that Ryo was simply a civilian descendant of the Senju scattered throughout Konoha. His parents had died young, and he had grown up in hardship.

Considering the frequent intermarriages between the Senju and the Uzumaki, with their bloodlines often intertwined, it was possible for ancestral Uzumaki traits to surface in Senju descendants.

Children with such red hair naturally had strong physiques, abundant life force, and vast chakra reserves, making them prime candidates for becoming Jinchuriki of the Nine-Tails.

Most importantly, Ryo was a Konoha native with a clean civilian background.

He belonged naturally to the Hokage's faction. He was one of their own.

The Third Hokage even considered grooming him to replace the aging Uzumaki Mito as the next Nine-Tails Jinchuriki.

So he asked Mito to personally confirm whether Ryo had awakened the Uzumaki bloodline and to evaluate his potential.

Mito remembered that scene clearly.

She had carefully "looked" at the six-year-old boy with red hair. Silent, stubborn, wearing old clothes, but standing with a straight back.

The result, however, was disappointing.

Mito sensed that the chakra within Ryo's body was pitifully weak, even thinner than that of the most ordinary academy student.

It did not resemble an awakened Uzumaki bloodline at all.

'Perhaps it's just a special hair color, without inheriting the chakra talent of the Uzumaki,' Mito concluded, and she reported this to the Third Hokage.

Ryo was excluded from the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki candidates, left as nothing more than a poor, unnoticed Senju orphan.

It was precisely because of this that, after the fall of the Uzumaki, the Hokage urgently dispatched the Anbu to bring back Kushina, whose bloodline was purer and stronger, to Konoha for training.

Mito's judgment had not been wrong.

At that time, the original Kamiyama Ryo was indeed nothing more than an ordinary child with mediocre talent and meager chakra, destined to remain unknown in the ninja world or even to die as cannon fodder.

His chakra reserves were so pitiful that he could barely perform even a simple E-rank ninjutsu.

But what neither Mito nor the Third Hokage could have imagined was that the Ryo who had transmigrated was no longer the same mediocre child.

Soon after enrolling at the age of six, a cheat system quietly bound itself to him."

Perhaps because of his red hair, similar to the Uzumaki, the first inheritance the system granted him was from a peak figure of another world—the One Piece world's "Red-Haired" Shanks, one of the Four Emperors, master of the strongest Conqueror's Haki.

The system's power completely and fundamentally transformed Ryo's body.

He was granted a terrifying physique on par with Shanks in his youth: dense muscles, tough bones, monstrous strength and stamina, fast recovery, and terrifying growth potential.

Within him lay the potential for Conqueror's Haki, and he unlocked about 30% of Shanks' combat skills and fighting experience.

This transformation even unintentionally fused with the tiny trace of life energy within his Senju bloodline.

The result was today's Ryo, a small Tyrannosaurus in the skin of an eight-year-old child. His health bar was ridiculously thick, his recovery astonishingly fast, and he carried the instincts of a top-tier fighter, albeit in a younger form.

And his so-called thin chakra?

That was just an illusion.

As everyone knows, chakra is the fusion of spiritual and physical energy.

With his terrifying physique nourished by Shanks' legacy, his dormant Conqueror's Haki, and his powerful spiritual energy as a transmigrator, Ryo was destined to become a sea of chakra in the future.

Mito had only given him a brief glance, failing to see the deeper layers. That was why she had concluded his chakra was thin and without Uzumaki talent.

Listening to Nawaki's description of Ryo like he was some terrifying monster, seeing Mito's thoughtful look, and remembering Ryo's roar in class that silenced everyone even while half-asleep, Kushina couldn't help but feel dazed.

This deskmate of hers… did seem… really strong?

But when school ended earlier, he hadn't seemed scary at all.

Most of her indignation had faded, replaced by a strange mix of curiosity and lingering resentment from Ryo brushing her off earlier.

Mito's soft, soothing voice pulled her back from her thoughts. "So, Kushina and Ryo are in the same class, and even deskmates?"

She looked down at Kushina with a gentle smile. "That is fate. Since you are deskmates, Kushina, get along well with him. Both of you are very special children."

"Get along with him…" Kushina repeated, pouting again. "But all he does is sleep! He barely listens when I talk to him! This afternoon, when I tried to be friends with him, he just said, 'If there's nothing, I'm going home!'" She mimicked Ryo's stiff tone, which drew laughter from Tsunade and Nawaki.

"Haha, such personality?" Tsunade chuckled. "Interesting! Kushina, looks like your path to making friends won't be smooth."

Nawaki couldn't help but laugh as well, though his laugh carried more relief. Better Kushina than him dealing with that walking disaster.

"Hmph! I'm not talking to you guys!" Kushina's cheeks turned bright red as she buried herself in Mito's arms again.

The fading glow of the sunset filtered through the paper doors, bathing the room in a warm orange light.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 5: Midnight Beast Feast

Discussions about Ryo in the Senju compound were completely unknown to him, the protagonist.

Right now, his stomach was rumbling with hunger, like a giant pit churning inside.

This wasn't ordinary hunger. It was the kind of hunger where he felt like he could eat an entire cow.

He just wanted to stuff himself.

All of this was because of his body—he had inherited Shanks' monstrous physique. Even though Ryo was still a child, the more he trained, the hungrier he became.

He knew that if he didn't put at least a hundred catties of meat into his stomach, today's training would be wasted.

Home?

Just a dilapidated shack on the edge of the village, dirt poor, a pathetic contrast to his bottomless appetite.

The rice jar was always empty.

The most valuable thing in the entire house was a spice box against the wall. That was his lifeline.

The money left behind by his parents?

Already eaten long ago!

Now, he lived on a monthly pension from the village. He wouldn't waste a single coin on rice or flour. Other than daily necessities, all his money went straight to the Konoha store for seasonings: big jars of coarse salt, dried chili flakes, cheap miso, animal fat, dried wild onions, and ginger blocks.

Beside them were his handmade two-meter-long skewers, wicker baskets for smoking meat, and large clean tree leaves for wrapping.

This was his "kitchen arsenal."

The few scraps of smoked boar jerky left?

Not even enough to get stuck in his teeth.

He chewed them down, changed into old clothes, and under the cover of night, slipped out of the village like a shadow, heading for the Forest of Death.

Little rabbits and birds?

That kind of meat wasn't even enough to snack on. If he was going to hunt, it had to be something big.

Because of the natural energy in this world, the Forest of Death had an abundance of oversized wild beasts. Look, a boar the size of a small hill, thick skin, bristly fur, and tusks sharp enough to gut a man. Just its bulk alone was enough to make anyone drool.

Ryo didn't say a word. He didn't draw his broken katana. Instead, he grabbed a sharpened wooden club. This thing worked better against thick hides anyway.

When the boar lowered its head to root around, exposing its neck, Ryo tensed his body like a drawn bow and—whoosh!

With his current strength and sharp eyesight, the club flew like it had eyes, stabbing straight into the weak spot of the boar's neck.

A clean kill. Done.

Bleeding, gutting, skinning, butchering… his movements were quick and precise. How many innocent lives had he ended to get this skilled?

Dragging back half a side of meat (which still weighed over a hundred catties), Ryo tossed it into his backyard "slaughterhouse + tough guy kitchen." There sat a large bluestone chopping block, a chipped cleaver, a scrap iron pot big enough to stew a whole pig, a branch barbecue grill, and piles of coarse salt, chili powder, and other spices.

Rolling up his sleeves, he instantly switched into gourmet veteran mode.

"Swish, swish, swish!" The cleaver flew, breaking the boar down: thick hindquarters? Chunk them up for stew. Ribs and legs? Slice for grilling. The tender parts? Cut into wide slabs for marinating.

Earthenware basins were set out. He dumped in the sliced meat, poured in coarse salt, sprinkled chili powder and spices, drizzled oil and miso.

With bark gloves on his hands, he kneaded the meat thoroughly, making sure every piece was coated. Then he wrapped them in tree leaves, tied them down with stone weights to marinate, while the extra strips were salted for air-drying.

The giant iron pot was filled with water. Bones and scraps went in. He tossed in handfuls of wild onions, ginger, mushrooms, and fruit he'd gathered nearby. Soon it was boiling hard, "gurgle, gurgle," as the smell of broth filled the air.

Those two-meter skewers weren't just decoration. He threaded ribs and leg slices onto them and placed them on the grill, carefully controlling the distance from the fire.

Fat dripped onto the coals, sizzling loudly, sending waves of aroma straight up.

Ryo crouched beside the fire, flipping meat like it was his own child.

The rest of the meat was hung in wicker baskets, smoking over pine needles and fruit wood. Another portion was laid on a stone slab, waiting.

He wasted nothing.

Even as a child, Ryo did the work of several men. Shanks' physique made it easy. He processed the hundred catties of meat without breaking a sweat.

The backyard filled with smoke, fire, and the overwhelming aroma of meat, a giant's kitchen party.

Hungry? Yes, starving.

But in his heart, he knew eating was just fuel. Only by filling up could he keep training. Before eating, he had to take his "Overachiever's Body Training Package."

With a giant log strapped to his back, heavy enough to crush several men, he began weighted steps. Each stomp left a crater, sweat pouring down: "One! Two! Three!"

In his mind, he replayed Shanks' training—breathing, step control. He grit his teeth, pushing to his limit. When he finally dropped the log, his back was red like it had been branded, muscles twitching.

He caught his breath, then drew his katana. "Clang!" He slashed downward. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" The sound of blades cutting air pierced the night.

He didn't know how many tens of thousands of cuts he made, only that his arms eventually went numb. Leaning on the sword, panting, he felt like a dog about to collapse.

Then his nose twitched. "Whoa!"

The bone broth was bubbling into a milky-white soup, steam rich with the smell of onions and mushrooms.

The skewered meat turned golden, fat popping open, a charred scent rising.

The smoked meat gave off the deep aroma of pine and fruit wood.

The marinated raw slices carried a spicy punch.

This avalanche of smells hit him like a slap.

Ryo's exhausted body suddenly sprang up.

The physique from the One Piece world was just that absurd. As long as he ate, his fatigue and minor injuries healed automatically.

The value of this "sit-up lock-health cheat" was off the charts.

Indeed, the best medicine was the hundred-catty feast laid before him.

He inhaled deeply, mentally taking notes: when to add meat to the stew, which skewer needed flipping, which smoked cut needed more salt. Cook fast, feed stomach.

In his past life, Ryo had been a cooking fanatic.

Single for decades, all his energy went into food.

Every day, he watched food bloggers, then practiced on his own, perfecting techniques to make even cheap ingredients delicious.

Training himself half to death? Fine. He could endure.

But disappointing his stomach? Never.

If after sweating blood all day, he still ate like a pig, what was the point of living?

So no matter how tired he was, he would always turn giant beast meat into something mouthwatering.

That was his one stubbornness.

Only by eating his fill could he keep grinding.

After a short break, more training would continue through the night.

As for chakra?

What chakra?

He had Shanks' inheritance. Even without Six Paths-level cheats, he could climb to the top of the ninja world the normal way.

And besides, he didn't even have access to advanced ninjutsu right now.

So his chakra reserves were small, on purpose. The little he had was enough to pass school exams.

Now, only when he was dead tired would he glance at his system panel, watching the assimilation progress tick forward by a tiny fraction, like sword skill unlock progress. Every bit of growth made it worth it.

After his feast and some rest, he pushed himself again.

…

By dawn, the night-long training ended.

He washed up, soaked in a hot bath, and ate a hearty breakfast.

Then he packed the bento he'd prepared the night before for the academy lunch, dragging his drained body to school.

Daytime? That was prime time for him to lie flat and recover.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 6: Seated Next to a Snorer

It was early morning, and the paths of Konoha were already bustling with students hurrying to the Ninja Academy.

But as soon as anyone in the crowd spotted that striking head of red hair, "Tsk! Let's go, let's go!"

"Don't block his way."

"Stay away, I don't want any trouble."

Students automatically cleared a path, literally opening a way for Ryo, their eyes avoiding him as if he were a plague.

Who in their right mind would deliberately cross his path? Did they think they were tough enough to take a beating?

What about Ryo himself?

He couldn't even be bothered to lift an eyelid at these glancing eyes.

He was used to it.

Anyway, he wasn't rushing to school to see these people's faces. He had only one real task, catching up on sleep, to fiercely replenish his health bar after that devilish training last night.

With faint dark circles under his eyes, his steps conveyed a numb "don't talk to me" vibe, his mind drifting with two big words: Sleepy. Tired.

Meanwhile, in the old mansion of the Senju clan.

"Ugh… just five more minutes of sleep… just five minutes…"

Kushina was groggily lingering in bed, the warm covers clinging to her like suction cups.

Completely forgetting about waking up early for school.

Uzumaki Mito slowly sipped her tea in the next room. Hearing no movement from Kushina's room, her lips curved into a smile.

Little girl, it's time you learned a lesson. She wasn't in a hurry at all.

Children, after all, would remember after being scolded by the teacher for being late once.

A thin-skinned girl like her would surely not dare to lie in bed again.

"Huuu-ah." When Kushina finally groggily opened her eyes and caught sight of the bright sun outside the window…

"Oh no!! I'm going to be late!!!" She sprang out of bed, as anxious as a cat with its tail stepped on.

"Grandma Mito, why didn't you wake me up!!"

The little girl frantically pulled on her clothes, shouting outside with a tearful voice.

Rushing to the sink, she hastily splashed water on her face, grabbed her hair and tied it up carelessly, but her red hair still defiantly sprouted a few unruly strands.

Breakfast?

No time for that.

Kushina stormed out the door like a whirlwind, her short legs pattering as she ran wildly toward school.

When she rushed to the main gate, the corner of her eye caught sight of the lunch bento on the table, specially prepared for her by Grandma Mito…

Damn it! She forgot her lunch too!!! Kushina wailed inwardly, but her feet didn't stop.

"Never mind, I'll deal with it after school! Just go!"

By the time Kushina, panting and flushed, arrived at the classroom door…

Teacher Kimura Shū was already enthusiastically lecturing at the blackboard with chalk in hand.

The entire class's attention, with a "swish," instantly focused on the red-haired little girl leaning on the doorframe, still gasping for air.

The air solidified for two seconds.

Kimura frowned. "Uzumaki Kushina-san?"

"Y-yes! I'm sorry, Teacher! I… I overslept!"

Kushina's face was beet red, her head bowed low, feeling dozens of gazes piercing her like needles.

A faint "hoo… roo…" came from the back row by the window, Ryo's peaceful mumbling in his sleep, making Kushina's current discomfiture even more apparent.

Kimura looked at the little girl's embarrassed face. After all, she was a new student, and it was her first time being late.

He sighed and waved his hand. "Never mind, since it's your first offense, go back to your seat. Be careful next time."

"Y-yes… thank you, Sensei!" Kushina felt as if she had been granted a great pardon, wishing she could bury her head in her chest and scurried back to her exclusive seat by the window.

Passing by Minato, he cast a gentle and worried glance her way.

Kushina didn't understand his gaze, only feeling that this sissy was mocking her, making her face even hotter, with anger.

Embarrassing. So embarrassing.

The little person in her heart was already banging against the wall.

Sitting in her seat, she heard Kimura's continued lecture, her deskmate Ryo's steady snoring behind her, and faint, uncontrollable snickers.

Kushina wished she could find a hole to crawl into.

Time crawled by.

What was the teacher talking about?

Kushina didn't hear a single word.

"Grumble grumble."

A sound so loud that Kushina wanted to die on the spot came from her empty stomach.

It was so clear that students in the front and back rows probably heard it.

She froze.

Ryo, who was sleeping soundly beside her, seemed to "hmm?" and shifted his position, thankfully not waking up.

The consequences of skipping breakfast began to retaliate without warning.

Hunger was like a small hand, constantly scratching at her stomach.

She was so annoyed she almost cried.

Grandma Mito is too mean! Why didn't she just wake me up this morning! Now I'm not only being laughed at by the whole class for being late, but I'm also hungry! My bento! It's still on the table at home…

Kushina desperately sprawled on her desk, pressing her arms tightly against her stomach, trying to suppress the hunger.

But the more she pressed, the clearer the feeling became.

Hungry, wronged, and humiliated.

Kushina vowed never to sleep in again.

Glancing at her red-haired deskmate who was sleeping soundly, the girl felt even more annoyed.

Although Ryo was innocently sleeping soundly at this moment, it didn't stop the girl from taking out her anger on him.

The Ninja Academy didn't have many classes. Usually, there were only two in the morning, but each class was as long and tedious.

Finally!

"Ding-a-ling-a-ling."

The dismissal bell sounded sweeter than celestial music.

It was lunchtime.

The classroom immediately became lively, filled with the sounds of lunchboxes opening and the aroma of food.

This aroma was double torture for Kushina, who had been hungry for two classes all morning and whose stomach was rebelling.

She covered her face with a worried expression.

What should I do… Should I go home to eat? There's not enough time to go back and forth! Am I going to spend the afternoon hungry too?

Just thinking about it made her vision go black.

Just as Kushina was in a dilemma, worrying about her tragic lunch…

The little blonde boy in the front seat picked up his lunchbox, turned back, and glanced at the distressed Kushina a few times, wanting to pluck up the courage to walk over.

The little blonde, who had been paying attention to the girl, had, of course, heard Kushina's stomach rumbling that morning.

However, just then…

"Ugh… hmm?" A lazy groan came from beside her.

Kushina's unshakeable deskmate, the "Sleeping Tyrant" Ryo, was finally awakened by his lunch biological clock.

He rubbed his sleepy eyes and stretched with a huge yawn.

Making Kushina inwardly grumble: Did sleeping suck all his energy?

Then Ryo, very naturally and unhurriedly, pulled out a large, tightly wrapped bento package from his desk.

No need to guess, it was definitely the luxurious product of last night's hundred-pound cooking.

The aroma of food seemed to subtly waft out from the package, precisely entering Kushina's nose…

Kushina: "…"

She was even hungrier now, hey.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 7: Crying Won’t Work, But Pork Might

"Gulp."

Kushina clearly heard herself swallow a large mouthful of coveted saliva.

Tears at the corners of her eyes wanted to spill out uncontrollably.

She pursed her lips tightly, her eyes glued to the coarse cloth bag that Ryo slowly unfolded.

The coarse cloth was peeled back layer by layer, revealing the main attraction inside, a huge, simple bamboo lunchbox lid, filled with… meat.

It wasn't the kind of soft, stewed chunks, but golden-brown, crispy ribs with tiny oil bubbles sizzling at the edges. There were slices of smoked meat, cut uniformly thick, evenly coated in sauce, glistening invitingly. There were also chewy, well-marinated meat strips.

The lunchbox seemed to have been specially insulated, and steam and aroma wafted upward. Kushina felt her stomach clench violently, and her empty belly let out a deafening roar. "Gulu rulu rulu."

This time, the sound was too loud.

Several classmates around, who were also opening their lunchboxes, all looked over in unison, their gazes darting between Kushina and the sinfully fragrant plate of meat.

Kushina's face instantly turned as red as a ripe apple, an intense shame intertwining with an almost devouring hunger.

She no longer cared about her small resentment toward Ryo or the unpleasantness of yesterday.

Heaven and earth were vast, but filling her stomach was paramount.

She mustered the greatest courage of her life, abruptly turned her head, her light blue eyes wet with longing and embarrassment, and stared intently at the meat mountain lunchbox in Ryo's hand, which was larger than her own face.

"Ryo-kun!" Her voice trembled slightly from nervousness and weakness, her fingers subconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes. "You… yours looks like so much! Can… can you…" The rest of the words were really hard to say, but the desire for food ultimately overcame her shame. "…can you share a little bit with me? Just a tiny bit!" She quickly made a small gap with her thumb and forefinger, her voice as faint as a mosquito's, but full of pleading.

Ryo was about to pick up a crispy, delicious-looking rib, thickly coated in sauce, when he heard Kushina's words and his movement paused in mid-air.

He turned his head, his face expressionless, only the instinctive impatience of being disturbed during his meal.

His deep-set eyes glanced at Kushina's cute, red, embarrassed little face, then lowered to look at his own important rations, which he had spent time and effort making last night to replenish his energy.

"Eh?" He let out a short sound, his brows habitually furrowing slightly. "Sorry." He refused bluntly, his tone flat, without malice, merely stating a fact. "This is all for one person." He emphasized "one" and "person."

What a joke, this little bit of meat wasn't even enough to fill his own teeth. All the energy to support his physical recovery was in this.

How could there be any extra to give to others?

Especially this deskmate he had only met yesterday, who was just a small trouble in his eyes.

He, Ryo, was not some generous philanthropist.

This cold, crisp refusal, without any room for negotiation, was like a small ice pick, precisely piercing Kushina's last bit of forced dignity.

No.

Not even a tiny bit.

Was it because she was an outsider? Was it because she was new? Or was it because he was simply a cold, selfish, straight-laced jerk?

The shame of being mocked for being late, the grievance, hunger, the feeling of being isolated, the pain of a fallen country, the helplessness of being alone in a strange environment, all the suppressed negative emotions erupted at this moment.

Kushina felt like a balloon blown to its limit, and it exploded.

No matter how strong Kushina used to be, she was still just an eight-year-old girl.

So those light blue eyes, which had been stubbornly holding back tears, could no longer contain the surging emotion.

Large, hot tears rolled out uncontrollably, sliding down her rosy cheeks, pat, pat, falling onto the open textbook, quickly soaking into two dark flowers.

She didn't wail like ordinary little girls, but just bit her lower lip tightly, letting the tears flow silently, her body trembling slightly from trying to suppress her sobs.

She even stubbornly didn't raise a hand to wipe them away, just buried her head deeply into her arms again, curling into a ball.

Her fiery red hair, at this moment, was no longer a dazzling flame, but like a cluster of fallen leaves, soaked by rain and trembling in the wind.

Her appearance made her seem like she had been abandoned in a corner by the whole world.

Ryo held the rib, frozen in place.

"???"

His mind was instantly filled with question marks.

Isn't it normal to refuse to share food?

He didn't even have enough for himself.

Being hungry was unpleasant, but… crying like this? Was it really that bad?

Ryo looked at the fragrant meat in his hand, then at the red-haired girl next to him, who had shrunk into a trembling little shrimp, her tears almost soaking her textbook.

"Trouble." Just as he muttered this word in his heart, something suddenly pricked him.

The scene before him completely exceeded his simple, logical scope of fighting, killing, eating, sleeping, and training.

A little girl who had just been rejected by him, whose stomach was growling with hunger in front of him, and who was crying so miserably after being refused…

His defense line of avoiding trouble and stay away from me instantly broke a large hole in the face of this silent, incredibly destructive tear attack.

Her angry look after school yesterday and this pitiful little crybaby in front of him overlapped. A strange feeling called unease of conscience emerged in the straight-laced Ryo's heart, making him feel uncomfortable all over.

"Tsk… so annoying." Ryo growled.

But his body acted before his brain.

He almost rudely put down the rib, wiping his greasy fingers casually on his clothes.

Frowning, he rummaged through the pile of meat. Which piece to choose? No, he really couldn't bear to part with it. Too many bones… this piece? Too fatty, afraid she'd choke… Damn it, why is sharing some meat so hard!

Finally, as if he had made some huge decision, with a sense of tragic heroism akin to a warrior severing his own arm, he, with great effort, tore off a whole piece of fatty and lean meat, with tendons and skin, glistening with oil and substantial in weight, from the largest stewed hind leg, which he himself hadn't even dared to gnaw on yet, with the most sauce and the crispiest skin, a pig hock.

The size of that pig hock was almost as big as Kushina's small face.

Thick, rich sauce dripped down Ryo's fingers, steaming hot and fragrant.

Ryo, with a dark expression, stiffly almost prodded this extremely tempting large piece of meat next to Kushina's lowered head.

His voice was still stiff, with obvious impatience. "Here. What are you crying for? Take it. Eat quickly." His tone was like he was dealing with a troublesome piece of garbage, rather than offering a fragrant piece of meat that could fill her stomach.

That rich, immediate aroma of meat, like a tangible shockwave, instantly pierced through Kushina's self-pity.

Her crying stopped abruptly.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 8: A Pork Hock That Broke the Ice

Kushina suddenly looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, streaks still wet on her small face, her expression completely dazed.

She stared blankly at Ryo's face, which carried an "impatient" look but was indeed handsome, then at the huge, glistening, sauce-colored pork hock practically shoved up to her nose, as if it was glowing.

This… this contrast was too much!

The boy who had coldly rejected her just moments ago was now offering her a piece of meat that seemed to radiate a sacred light?

Even though his attitude was fierce, the stiff way he handed it over… how could it be so clumsily funny?

"Pfft—"

A jumble of emotions surged in Kushina's heart. The grievance hadn't fully faded, her hunger was unbearable, she was tempted by the huge piece of meat, and Ryo's stiff, awkward appearance had touched her strange sense of humor.

She couldn't help but let out a laugh through her tears.

This was probably the first person who had ever given her something just because "she cried" since arriving in Konoha.

Even if his face was stern, even if his tone was poor, this "care" warmed the lonely heart of the red-haired girl.

"Thank you…" Her voice was nasal but much brighter.

All those accusations of Ryo being a blockhead, cold, and selfish vanished instantly.

At this moment, Kushina unilaterally stamped him with the "can be friends" seal.

He was a good person!

This simple, straightforward thought took root in her heart.

Her hunger surged back with a vengeance.

With food like this in front of her, who cared about image?

Kushina instantly turned into a little hungry wolf. Not caring if her hands got greasy, she grabbed the massive pork hock!

She impatiently opened her mouth and took a huge bite at the thickest, juiciest part!

Boom!

Her taste buds exploded!

This taste… this texture… was unlike anything she had ever eaten!

The sauce was rich and mellow, with a hint of sweetness, savoriness, and deep spice, perfectly seeping into every fiber of meat.

The lean meat wasn't dry at all. It had chew, yet was tender, tearing apart easily, becoming more fragrant with each bite.

The fatty part was translucent, melting in her mouth, rich but not greasy, leaving behind only a mouthful of delicious aroma. The charred pork skin was the soul of the dish, crispy and elastic, slightly sticky with gelatin, chewy and full of fatty fragrance.

The layers of spice didn't overwhelm the natural taste of the meat but instead enhanced it, bringing out a powerful flavor!

"Ooh! So… so delicious!!!" Kushina cried out muffled, her light blue eyes wide and shining with disbelief and joy.

In her entire life, whether in Uzushiogakure or at Grandma Mito's house, she had never tasted such an enchanting flavor!

Half-dead with hunger, eating this made her instantly feel like the happiest person alive.

Any image of being a lady, any elegance or grace, was gone.

Kushina transformed into a glutton, clutching the pork hock bigger than her fist with both hands, gnawing away fiercely.

Her small mouth was crammed full, her cheeks puffed out, sauce smeared across her nose and mouth, but she didn't care, dedicating herself completely to the battle against delicious food. Her face showed intoxicated bliss, almost fainting from happiness.

Ryo, who unknowingly received a "good person card": "…"

He sat beside her, rib still untouched in his hand, his expression indescribable.

Watching Kushina, who looked like a starving ghost reincarnated, happily gnawing away with an oily face, his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

A little… funny?

But seeing his meat mountain rapidly shrinking, he felt real heartache.

This was the energy he needed to recover his stamina!

"Hey! Eat slower! No one's snatching it from you!" Ryo finally couldn't help but remind her. His tone was stiff, but he genuinely worried she'd choke.

"Mmmph mmmph… So… so good… mmmph mmmph…" Kushina nodded furiously, showing she heard him, but her chewing never slowed, only accompanied by satisfied grunts as her eyes curved into crescents.

Ryo rolled his eyes helplessly, looked away from her horrifying eating habits, and lowered his head to his own plate.

No longer caring about the heartache, he grabbed his rib and bit into it fiercely, as if venting his frustration through appetite.

Thus, in the back row of Classroom 3A of the Ninja Academy, by the window, a bizarre yet strangely harmonious scene unfolded:

A red-haired boy in faded clothes, frowning with a helpless expression, gnawed at a roasted rib quickly and defensively, eyes locked on his food.

Beside him, a small, round-faced, red-haired girl with tear streaks still on her cheeks ungracefully clutched a giant braised pork hock, gnawing furiously. Her small face was shiny with oil, her eyes sparkling, her expression filled with joy.

When Ryo lowered his head, she even slyly stretched out her greasy hand and swiftly pinched a slice of smoked meat from the corner of his bento!

"Hey! That's mine!" Ryo would occasionally notice and protest, but his hands didn't stop moving.

"Hmph! Stingy! You said you'd give me food!" Kushina puffed her cheeks, retorting indistinctly, her eyes already on the roasted meat she had long coveted from his plate.

"I only gave you the pork hock! I never said you could steal the rest!" Ryo firmly guarded his roasted meat.

"Stinky Ryo! I'm your friend now! What's wrong with friends sharing?!" Kushina's hands moved even bolder, even trying to grab a rib he had just picked up.

She unilaterally decided they were friends, so she was emboldened.

That naturally familiar, bold personality of hers shone through at this moment.

"Who's friends with you! You're a bandit! Give it back!" Ryo was annoyed yet amused, blocking her quickly.

The two squabbled and wrestled. Ryo had the strength to suppress her instantly, but he couldn't be serious with a little girl, so he only protested and guarded his food.

For a moment, their two greasy faces were close, the small classroom table filled with the scent of oil and helpless bickering.

In the end, although Ryo protected the core supplies like large chunks of meat and the main leg portion, Kushina still managed to plunder about ten percent of his slices and many smoked strips.

Satisfied, Kushina patted her round belly and let out a loud, happy burp.

Her small face shone with oil, her smile as bright as a blooming flower.

All her grievances from yesterday had vanished completely thanks to this greasy, delicious meal.

Her stomach was full, her mood ecstatic!

Ryo?

Hmm, definitely a good person, cold on the outside but warm inside! He could be a friend!

As for his "loss-making, sour face"?

Kushina ignored it.

Meanwhile, Ryo stared at his half-empty "energy replenishment box," his brows twisted into a knot.

Looking at the satisfied little redhead still licking sauce from the corners of her mouth, he once again realized what it meant to "ask for trouble" and that "women are trouble."

But strangely, he didn't feel that angry anymore?

Their lively food-snatching scene had already drawn the whole class's attention.

Everyone's expressions were vivid—dumbfounded, disbelieving, their worldview shaken. Oh my god, the red-haired bully Ryo actually had this side to him? Eye-opening!

In the front row, Minato quietly watched Kushina and Ryo's playful scuffle.

He looked down at his carefully prepared bento, filled with neat rice balls and side dishes. His original plan to bravely offer it froze completely.

His warm, sunny smile stiffened on his face, and for the first time, a hint of sadness and loss appeared in his bright blue eyes.

He didn't step forward. He silently opened the lid, took a bite of his rice ball, but it was tasteless.

The classroom buzzed with voices and the aroma of food.

Sunlight, dust, grease, arguments, burps, bulging bellies, a helpless sour face, a satisfied smiling one… all mixed together, forming a chaotic but real picture of hunger, forced sharing, delicious food, misunderstandings, and the first recognition of "friendship."

For Ryo and Kushina, the invisible wall between them was unexpectedly shattered by a sauce-covered pork hock, leaving behind a crack.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 9: Danzo Having a Meltdown

In the Hokage's office, smoke billowed.

The Third Hokage,Sarutobi Hiruzen, held his pipe between his teeth, the tobacco in its bowl flickering on and off.

His fingertip lightly tapped the smooth surface of the crystal ball. The blurry light and shadow within instantly sharpened, focusing on the corner by the window in Class 3-A of the Konoha Ninja Academy.

Beside him, in a large armchair, Uzumaki Mito sat perfectly upright.

The traces of time on her face were cleverly locked away by the Yin Seal, leaving only a pair of eyes, deep with wisdom, now watching the scene in the crystal ball with great interest.

The ball showed Kushina snatching food and Ryo protecting his.

It was far from refined, even a bit wild, but to the two figures before the crystal ball it felt like the warm sun in winter, comforting their hearts.

"Hehe." The Third Hokage exhaled a long plume of smoke, the wrinkles on his old face relaxing somewhat. "Mito-sama, look, this child Kushina is starting to put down roots in Konoha. She is finding her own bonds." He glanced at Mito, his tone carrying the relief of a heavy burden lifting.

The Third Hokage might not fully understand jinchuriki, but he understood the power of bonds.

Ryo, this ruthless commoner he had secretly observed for a long time, forming a connection with the future jinchuriki was simply a stroke of luck.

Mito's gaze remained on the two small figures wrestling in the crystal ball, her eyes showing a gentle understanding of the world.

She saw deeper than Hiruzen.

The brat Ryo, with his scowling face as he protected his food, the helpless yet genuine offer of a pig's trotter, was proof that his heart had been touched.

"Saru, I am old," she nodded slightly, her voice soft but weighty. "The Konoha of the future will ultimately be supported by these youngsters, just as Hashirama and Tobirama entrusted the burden to you back then, trusting you all the same."

Hiruzen's expression grew more solemn, and he nodded gravely. "Yes, Mito-sama. Your teachings, I have never dared to forget."

"Do not interfere too much with Kushina," she instructed, her gaze lingering on the girl's satisfied smile in the crystal ball. "Let her enjoy this time in the academy like an ordinary child. A jinchuriki's heart naturally has a void that needs to be filled with happy memories. The strongest shackles are not imprisonment, but warm bonds." As the current vessel of the Nine-Tails, her words carried authority.

"I guarantee it, Mito-sama." Hiruzen's voice was heavy and resolute. He understood the immense weight of Mito's entrustment.

Mito said no more, simply nodded gently, and rose to leave.

The heavy office door closed silently behind her, leaving the Third alone in the smoke-filled room with the still-boisterous scene in the crystal ball.

The quiet lasted less than two minutes.

"Bang!"

The Hokage's office door was pushed open unceremoniously, so hard the doorframe shook. Shimura Danzo walked in without pleasantries or even a polite facade, going straight to the point.

"Hiruzen." Danzo's voice was low, laced with suppressed anger. "Uzumaki Kushina, as a crucial future jinchuriki, should be immediately placed under strict supervision. Train her into a precise, ruthless weapon that only obeys orders. That is the safest plan. Allowing her to fool around in school is like exposing a top-tier strategic weapon to uncontrolled variables. You are playing with fire."

He glanced at the crystal ball, just in time to see Kushina "steal" another piece of fragrant grilled meat from Ryo's lunchbox, their two red heads nearly touching. Disgust deepened in his eyes. "Especially that brat named Ryo. His very existence is a source of interference. All contact between him and the jinchuriki must be severed immediately."

Hiruzen's expression became calm. He gently tapped the edge of his desk with his pipe. "This is Mito-sama's choice, Danzo." His voice was not loud, but exceptionally firm, directly invoking Mito Uzumaki's will.

"Mito-sama's choice?!" Danzo's tone suddenly rose, dripping with sarcasm. "Hiruzen, your weakness is that you are too soft, too superstitious about these so-called bonds. It is womanly compassion."

He stepped forward, almost glaring down at Hiruzen. "Bonds? What are those intangible bonds? Can you guarantee that this little girl, with the seeds of hatred for the destruction of the Land of Whirlpools buried deep in her heart, and the stubborn blood of the Uzumaki clan in her veins, will fully identify with Konoha just because of a few so-called friends? She was not even born in Konoha."

He spread his hand, as if sketching a blueprint. "Give her to me. To Root. I guarantee you, within half a year, I will return to you a perfect weapon, absolutely obedient, with a heart of stone, burning only for Konoha. This is the most responsible approach for the village." Danzo's voice was full of persuasion, yet carried a mechanical coldness.

Hiruzen met Danzo's oppressive gaze, his eyes unwavering, like bedrock. "I said, this is Mito-sama's choice, Danzo."

'If I hand the jinchuriki over to you, I am afraid I will not sleep soundly again.'

"..."

You bastard.

Danzo almost suffocated himself.

This excuse again.

It is always Mito-sama's choice. Can't you come up with a different one?

Danzo was enraged by the unyielding refusal.

Control over the core asset, the jinchuriki, was right before his eyes, yet he could not touch it because of an old woman's will.

His thoughts raced, and he decisively took a step back, though his gaze stayed fixed on the other red-haired figure in the crystal ball, like a predator locking onto prey.

"Fine. If you insist on handling the jinchuriki according to Mito-sama's way, I will give up." Danzo's voice was cold and hard.

"But that boy, Ryo Kamiyama. His actions in the academy are no secret. A genius who, at such a young age, can subdue all the teachers and students in the entire academy, his potential needs guidance, and more importantly, control. Hand him over to Root. My newly established department needs precisely this kind of ruthless, strong seed that can take root in the shadows and draw nourishment for Konoha."

A person who could dominate the entire school in such impoverished circumstances, with such tenacity and immense potential, was tailor-made for Root.

All that was needed was to sever unnecessary emotions and refine him into absolute loyalty to the village, the essence of a ruthless blade.

In the future, he would be Root's deadly weapon, buried in Konoha or deep within enemy nations. The sharpest blade in Danzo Shimura's hand.

Hiruzen picked up his pipe, refilled it with tobacco, his movements slow and steady. He lit it with a match, took a deep puff, and let the pungent smoke swirl in his lungs. When he spoke again, through the billowing smoke, his gaze became extremely sharp, piercing Danzo.

"Ryo is not suited for Root," the Third said, clear as a steel nail driven into wood. "He has light within him. His path should be walked openly, under the sun. He is one of the inheritors of the Will of Fire, the future of Konoha I envision, not some root buried deep underground."

He did not mention Ryo's Senju lineage, nor the secrets of his early observations, but the protective intent in his words was beyond doubt.

"Inheritor of the Will of Fire?!" Danzo sounded like he had heard the most preposterous joke. He laughed in anger, his eyes bloodshot with agitation.

"Sarutobi Hiruzen, are you blind? A commoner brat who only sleeps in class and dominates through fighting, and you dare call him an inheritor of the Will of Fire? His chakra reserves are so low that even graduation is in question. Putting him under your imagined sunlight will only raise an unruly brute. Root," he suddenly clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palm, "Root is the true foundation of Konoha. Only there can he be molded into a true pillar. Hand him over to me and let him become the sharp sword that guards Konoha's roots. Isn't that maximizing his value? Your so-called sunny path is just letting him run wild."

"Hiruzen, you are too greedy." Danzo slammed his hand on the table.

You will not give me the jinchuriki.

Fine. That is the village's nuclear weapon, I will leave it.

Now, you want to monopolize an outstanding genius too.

You will not let go of either.

How can you hog all the benefits?

Hiruzen slowly stood up. His physique was not massive, but at this moment he exuded undeniable authority.

He no longer cited Mito's name, nor did he continue to argue about Ryo's value. He simply stared calmly at Danzo with eyes that seemed to see through people's hearts, and said, word by word:

"Danzo, remember."

He paused, then declared with absolute clarity:

"I, Sarutobi Hiruzen, am the Hokage."

The Third directly used his authority to suppress him.

Hiruzen's meaning was clear. I am the Hokage. I want it all. If you do not like it, tough luck.

The single phrase, "I am the Hokage," struck Danzo's soft spot.

A higher rank crushes people. Danzo truly dreamed of becoming Hokage.

He had long wanted to experience what it felt like to have Hiruzen beneath him.

"Good, good, good. Sarutobi Hiruzen, you will regret this."

Danzo took a deep breath, calming himself.

Ultimately, he was not the Hokage, only an assistant to Konoha's Hokage. Root was still in its infancy. In front of Hiruzen, all he could do was threaten, spit harsh words, and then leave.

With a bang, Danzo left the Hokage's office, a place that haunted his dreams.

…

The office immediately returned to silence, only the slightly trembling door proving the intense confrontation that had just occurred.

Hiruzen slowly sat back in his chair. He took a deep breath, picked up his pipe again, his gaze deep and distant.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 10: Friends Share?

A few days passed in a flash.

At the Ninja Academy, aside from the last five minutes before class ended, the liveliest time was when the lunch bell rang.

The usual spot at the back of Classroom 3-A, by the window, was Kushina and Ryo's "battlefield."

However, this battlefield was a war for food.

Ryo had just placed his coarse cloth bag on the table, and before he could even untie it, a fiery red little shadow zipped over from beside him.

Kushina's eyes were as bright as light bulbs, fixed on the cloth bag, her small nose sniffing like a puppy.

"Hehe, Ryo!" Kushina's cute round face bloomed into a smile, and she casually tugged at his arm. "What good stuff did you bring today? Is it still that braised pork hock? Or those crispy pork ribs?"

She was drooling so much she could barely hold it in. She had not even glanced at the bento box Grandma Mito packed for her that morning, just waiting to snatch Ryo's.

Ryo did not even bother to lift an eyelid, swatting away her paw. "Go, go, go. Eat your own. If you try to snatch mine again, I will get mad."

As he spoke, he deftly untied the cloth bag and lifted the large bamboo lunchbox lid.

Golden, fragrant, crispy roasted pork ribs were neatly arranged, sizzling with tiny bubbles of oil.

Beside them were thick slices of smoked pork, glistening with oil and exuding a rich, dominant aroma.

There were also a few strips of cured meat that looked incredibly tender.

The insulation was excellent. A waft of rich, hot steam whooshed right into Kushina's face.

Kushina gulped a big mouthful of saliva, her eyes wide, and her stomach protested on cue. "Grrr… Ryo, look. My tummy is protesting. It says it wants those ribs." Her little face crumpled, feigning pitifulness with remarkable skill.

Ryo did not fall for it. He picked up the fattiest rib and brought it to his mouth, biting into it with a satisfying crunch, his words muffled. "Protesting? Let it protest by itself. I calculated this perfectly. It is just enough for me. No share for you."

As he chewed, he pointed to Kushina's lonely bento on her desk. "There. That is yours."

Kushina glanced at her "simple and elegant" little lunchbox, her mouth pouting so much you could hang an oil bottle from it. "Hmph. Grandma Mito packed it for me, so it is definitely light-flavored again. It is not as fragrant as yours."

Suddenly, her eyes darted, revealing a cunning smile. Her small hand shot toward Ryo's lunchbox. "I will just try a tiny piece. Just one tiny piece. We are friends, what is wrong with sharing?"

"Ah. Not a chance." Ryo was quick-eyed and quick-handed, dodging with his lunchbox like a mother hen protecting her chicks, almost getting oil on his clothes.

"Kushina, how many times have I told you? Friends are friends, but if you try to snatch my food again, I will get angry." His face was sour. This little redhead was really pushing it.

Last time, a big pork hock did not just open her appetite, it also unleashed her "bandit" nature.

Kushina missed, but she was not angry. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and declared righteously, "Stingy Ryo. I compensated you with my bento last time, did I not? And you ate it too. Exchange. This is fair exchange."

Her "exchange" was purely forced buying and selling.

Ryo had to pinch his nose to eat her fresh and light bento. As a carnivore, he found it completely unsatisfying.

"Who cares about your grass leaves…" Ryo grumbled, but his movements slowed slightly.

In that instant, Kushina seized the opportunity.

With lightning speed, her small hand swished into the corner of the lunchbox, precisely pinching away the most beautiful slice of smoked meat.

"Got it!" Kushina cheered, the meat slice instantly disappearing into her mouth. A look of immense satisfaction bloomed on her cute little face. "Ooh, ooh, ooh, delicious. Ryo, your cooking is absolutely amazing." She even exaggeratedly smacked her lips.

Ryo looked at the missing slice of prime smoked meat in his lunchbox, feeling his heart bleed.

Kushina did not care, happily licking the oil from her fingers. "Hehe, it is your fault for being my first friend in Konoha. What is wrong with a friend eating a piece of your meat?" This line had practically become her catchphrase and invincible excuse.

Ryo rolled his eyes at her "friend" logic, a knot of frustration tightening in his chest.

Every night when he cooked, he would inexplicably add more meat to his lunchbox.

Ryo himself pondered, "Damn it. What am I doing this for? Is this not asking for trouble? My cursed hands." He cursed, but the meat slices were added nonetheless.

It seemed watching the little redhead's eyes curve into crescents of joy just from getting a bite of something delicious did not seem so bad.

Ryo felt incredibly conflicted, as if his principles were slowly being gnawed away by a certain red-haired little squirrel.

Ryo sighed, resigned, pushing his lunchbox slightly toward the middle. He gruffly said, "Finish your own portion quickly, and stop staring at mine." His words were fierce, but his actions seemed to tacitly approve of Kushina's bandit behavior.

Kushina was sharp. She immediately caught this tiny softening. She cheered and practically glued herself to him, beginning a new round of foraging.

"I know, I know. Ryo is the best." Her words were sweet, and her hands were just as quick.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Minato’s Speed

Minato stood opposite him, his lips pressed tightly together. His usually gentle and sunny face was now exceptionally serious, and deep within his azure eyes, a defiant glint flickered.

There was also a hint of unutterable reluctance. Kushina was watching not far away, yet she seemed detached, always clinging to Ryo, with eyes only for him. Minato was unwilling to accept this.

He wanted to prove something.

Ryo shook his arm, which had gone somewhat numb from sleep, and did not even bother to look his opponent in the eye. His tone was filled with the annoyance of having his sweet dreams disturbed. "Tsk, hurry up. I can still catch a nap after this."

He had little interest in this match. In his eyes, the little blond boy in front of him was no different from the noisy cicadas in the trees. Even if the little blond boy was the future Yondaime, they were all just sources of noise preventing him from sleeping.

"Both sides, form the Seal of Confrontation." Kimura Shū called out somewhat nervously, afraid he would not be able to control the situation the next second.

After the seals were formed.

"Begin."

Minato moved.

His figure flickered, so fast it left an afterimage in the air, and his hands instantly formed seals.

This was his pride; his speed far exceeding his peers.

With two soft bang sounds, two Minato clones identical to him appeared on his left and right. The three of them, in a triangular formation, lunged fiercely at Ryo.

One of the clones even mimicked a low kick.

The exquisite coordination and precise timing made many students secretly gasp.

So fast. Such skilled Three Body Technique. Few peers could probably block it.

However, "Is that all?"

Ryo almost instantly caught Minato's movements the moment the original started to speed up. His lazy eyes were now filled with pure combat instinct.

He did not even use chakra. His body simply shifted naturally to one side, and his left hand casually reached out and grabbed forward, as if swatting a fly.

Clap.

A crisp sound echoed across the training ground.

Minato, as fast as a gust of wind, had his swift wrist precisely gripped by Ryo like an iron clamp. Minato's charge abruptly stopped, all the illusions instantly dissipated, and his face was filled with incredulous shock.

He struggled with all his might to break free, but the immense force on his wrist remained unmoving, as if cast in iron and stone.

Ryo gave Minato no time to react at all.

He did not use any complex moves. He simply used the momentum of grabbing Minato to pull him forward, while simultaneously arching his knee sharply.

Thud.

A dull, heart-pounding thud echoed.

That seemingly casual knee strike landed squarely on Minato's abdomen.

"Ugh."

Minato's eyes instantly bulged. His entire body arched upward uncontrollably, as if struck by a speeding rhinoceros, and intense pain and a sense of suffocation instantly overwhelmed all his senses.

Saliva mixed with stomach acid spilled from the corners of his mouth.

All his calculations and techniques were instantly shattered in the face of absolute power.

But this was not over yet.

Ryo's hand, gripping Minato's wrist, suddenly slammed him downward.

Plop.

Minato could not even let out a cry of pain. His entire body was slammed heavily onto the hard dirt of the training field, sending dust flying.

The immense impact shook his internal organs as if they were dislocated, and his bones seemed to wail.

Ryo released his hand and looked down at the little blond boy, curled up on the ground and painfully retching. His face still showed impatience. "Still fighting? Just concede and get it over with." In his eyes, this battle was already over, and there was no need to drag it out.

"Ugh…" Minato convulsed with pain, but the stubborn spirit of youth was completely ignited.

Kushina was watching from the side.

No. It absolutely could not end like this.

"I… I have not lost yet." Minato squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth, supporting himself with his hands on the ground, using all his strength, swaying unsteadily, and struggling to get up.

His small, dust-covered body trembled, seeming as if it could fall again at any moment, but his eyes were fixed on Ryo.

"Tsk." Ryo clicked his tongue in annoyance. He did not understand where this kid got his stubbornness, but since his opponent still wanted to fight, he would not hold back.

Minato gritted his teeth and charged again, his speed much slower than before, but every punch and kick used his remaining strength, aiming directly at Ryo's head, chest, and other vital points.

He was desperately searching for even the slightest flaw.

Unfortunately, all of this appeared as slow motion in Ryo's eyes.

Ryo did not even bother to dodge much.

Minato's full-force punches landed on him with only faint thump-thump sounds, like a tickle.

He retaliated with extreme simplicity and directness.

He blocked Minato's punch aimed at his head and slammed a punch back at his opponent's shoulder.

Crack. A clear sound of dislocation rang out, and Minato's left shoulder instantly dislocated.

He dodged a side kick, casually grabbed the incoming ankle, and lightly flipped it.

Thump. Minato awkwardly fell back onto the dirt again.

He struggled to get up and lunged again. Ryo sidestepped, and his elbow followed through with a precise backward strike.

Thud. Minato felt his vision go black, a shattering pain in his back, his breathing completely stopped, and a metallic taste rose in his throat.

A punch. A knee strike. A slam. A dislocation. A flip. An elbow strike.

The battle was completely one-sided, purely unilateral.

The training ground was dead silent.

Every dull impact sound made the students' eyelids twitch.

Watching the usually gentle and cheerful, academically excellent Minato being casually knocked down, slammed, and sent flying by Ryo like a lifeless sandbag, only to stubbornly struggle to get up again and again, then be beaten even more severely, many people turned pale and instinctively covered their eyes.

Finally, after being kicked in the abdomen by Ryo once more, flying a few meters like a broken kite, Minato fell to the ground, twitched a few times, and then completely went silent.

He lay there like a pile of mud, his body covered in dust mixed with sweat, his small face pale and ashen, having completely lost consciousness.

Silence.

The entire field was as silent as death.

Only the rustling of wind through the leaves and the slightly annoyed panting of the red-haired boy in the center of the training ground, who had loosened up his limbs, could be heard.

He glanced down at the unconscious Minato on the ground, his eyes showing no emotion, as if he had merely crushed an annoying insect.

What he was thinking now was that he hoped the remaining classes would be as easy as this warm-up, or even better, that school would simply end so he could go back to sleep.

Kimura Shū snapped back to reality with a start, frantically rushing into the field to check Minato's injuries, sweat beading on his forehead. "Quick. Medical team. Carry him to the infirmary."

Several students timidly stepped forward, carefully lifting the unconscious, badly injured Minato, and hurried away from the training ground.

As they passed Ryo, they did not even dare to breathe loudly.

Ryo did not even look at Minato being carried away. He leisurely stretched, then slowly strolled back to the old oak tree. He adjusted himself into a comfortable position and leaned back, his eyelids heavy as they drooped.

As everyone's complex and reverent gazes focused on him, this red-haired tyrant who had just displayed absolute crushing power so nonchalantly and quickly re-entered his charging mode.

On the training ground, the still-shaken people looked at each other. This short yet brutal battle once again thoroughly confirmed Ryo's fearsome reputation as being at the top of the Ninja Academy food chain, and extinguished the last lingering thoughts of challenge hidden in countless hearts.

Minato's stubbornness and excellence instead became the best backdrop to highlight Ryo's monster name.

The sun was still dazzling, but the temperature of the training ground seemed to have quietly dropped a few degrees.

Top floor of the Hokage Building.

Sarutobi Hiruzen silently put down his pipe. The crystal ball reflected the red-haired boy who had fallen back asleep in the corner of the training ground.

Behind him, his three disciples, Orochimaru, Jiraiya, and Tsunade, watched all of this with varying expressions.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 12: The Redhead Gets a Master, The Blonde Gets Stuck with Jiraiya

The office was silent.

Hiruzen turned around, clearing his dry throat.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the dead silence.

"Speak up." He twirled the pipe in his hand, a few specks of ash falling. "What do you think of that live combat assessment just now… how was it?"

His gaze swept over the three people in front of him.

Jiraiya was the first to bounce up.

His hedgehog-like white hair was practically exploding, and his face still held an astonished expression.

He rushed to the desk, hands pressed against the edge, excitement overflowing.

"My god!" Jiraiya blurted out, then lowered his voice slightly, but was still agitated. "That blonde kid! He's amazing!"

He spoke rapidly: "That blonde kid, he's as fast as the wind! Clones, Kawarimi no Jutsu, tactical coordination, it was all seamless! Clean and precise! His willpower is terrifyingly strong, he got knocked flying and still charged back in! His combat awareness is superb, every move aimed at a weakness! This… he's definitely a top genius! Only a third-year? He's already much stronger than a typical genin!"

Changing the subject, Jiraiya suddenly turned his head to look at the blonde figure beside him—Tsunade, his tone carrying a clear sense of lingering fear. "As for that redhead! Tsunade! You know best about beating people up! You tell me! Was that a fight? It was practically dismantling parts! Every punch and kick was brutally vicious! Pure savagery!"

Tsunade was standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the bookshelf, her brows tightly furrowed.

Every fierce, dull strike from Ryo in the crystal ball seemed to pound at the heart of her, a taijutsu master.

"A monster." Tsunade spat out two words, like stones hitting the ground.

She unconsciously stroked her smooth chin, as if savoring that power. "Is his name Ryo? Nawaki mentioned this kid to me before… Hmph, finally got to see him."

"His timing was as precise as if he'd calculated every step of that blonde kid!" Tsunade's eyes gleamed, like she was dissecting a perfect specimen. "Force generation, muscles, joints, power transmission… terrifyingly smooth! Frighteningly efficient! He's practically a living textbook for taijutsu! At least top-tier chunin level."

"His true level? He didn't even show it. It ended too quickly… that kid, he didn't even use his full strength? Or was he in a hurry?" Her lips curved upwards, with the excitement of discovering new prey. "I really want to measure his depth with my fists!"

The Third Hokage "hmm-ed" and turned to the effeminate, pale-faced young man beside him. "Orochimaru, you speak."

Orochimaru tilted his head slightly.

In his early twenties, the sharpness of youth had not yet faded, but in his golden vertical pupils, a steady yet sharp wisdom already flickered.

"Tsunade and Jiraiya," Orochimaru began, "what they said… is all correct."

He paused, a subtle curve appearing on his lips for a moment. "The blonde one, a genius. The blonde one, a genius. His character, talent, a flawless gem."

His tone suddenly shifted, his golden vertical pupils precisely looking at the spot where the crystal ball had extinguished, as if piercing through the wall to the oak tree on the training ground. "The redhead? His power… is eerily pure. Pure, violent aesthetics."

His snake eyes turned to the Third Hokage, with a sense of seeing through everything. "Sensei. You specifically called the three of us to watch this… performance. What is your intention?" Orochimaru leaned forward slightly, his posture respectful, his question cutting to the core. "Two astonishingly brilliant geniuses?"

Hiruzen's eyes flickered.

He didn't answer immediately, instead picking up his pipe and slowly filling it with fresh tobacco.

He lit it, took a deep puff, then exhaled thick smoke.

Amidst the swirling smoke, Hiruzen's voice was low and decisive. "The three of you," his gaze swept over Jiraiya and Tsunade, lingering slightly on Orochimaru, "are elite jonin, pillars of the village." His tone carried pride, and also an invisible urging.

"These past few years, ever since you graduated," the pipe in his hand tapped the air, "those two… are the most dazzling! You all saw Minato's talent. Ryo… his actions are wild, but his power is genuine. Both are future pillars of the village."

Hiruzen's speaking pace slowed, each word clear and powerful. "Konoha's strength relies on succession. The Will of Fire relies on you to pass it down. I am old…"

He flicked the ash, his tone becoming a command, allowing no room for doubt. "You… should consider taking on disciples! Pass down your skills, your paths! Which of you will take these two?"

This sentence exploded like a bomb in the silent office.

Hiruzen's meaning was laid bare—to firmly bind these two immensely potential newcomers to the Hokage lineage's ship through the master-disciple relationship!

Jiraiya was still savoring the battle, regretting Minato's defeat, and his eyes almost popped out when he heard this.

Tsunade's arm-crossing posture remained unchanged, a thoughtful look in her eyes.

Orochimaru's face instantly froze, his golden snake pupils narrowing into a cold line, and the temperature in the office seemed to drop sharply.

"Take… a disciple?" he repeated softly, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"Forgive me, Sensei." Orochimaru bowed slightly. "Currently," his choice of words was cold, "I have no interest in this kind of… enlightenment education. My energy needs to be used in more valuable places."

The subtext was loud and clear: I have no time for so-called geniuses.

Besides, who isn't a genius?

A hint of disappointment flashed in Hiruzen's eyes; he had somewhat expected Orochimaru's refusal.

So he turned his gaze to the remaining two—Jiraiya, Tsunade.

Jiraiya scratched his head, looked at Hiruzen, then glanced at the spot where the crystal ball had disappeared, his mind a mess.

Take Minato? This kid's talent is top-notch, teaching him shouldn't be too difficult? A bit stubborn, but quite suited to his own ninjutsu path.

As for Ryo… Jiraiya shivered, subconsciously rubbing his arms.

His own style involved summoning animals, various strange techniques. Pure taijutsu head-on?

Thinking about Ryo's bone-crushing fists… if he were to teach Ryo his own ninjutsu, he'd drone on for ages, and that redhead would get annoyed and swat him away.

Tsk! No way! Too hardcore! Can't handle it!

"That redhead!" A clear, powerful voice suddenly broke the silence. Tsunade suddenly spoke, her chin raised, her lips curved. "Ryo, I'll take him!"

She stood ramrod straight, her chest rising and falling, her sharp gaze sweeping over Jiraiya's bewildered face. "As for that blonde kid Minato…"

She pointed casually at Jiraiya, with a hint of you're getting off easy. "He's yours, Jiraiya!"

A few days ago, if Grandma Mito hadn't mentioned this redhead Ryo, whom Kushina was particularly concerned about yet couldn't handle.

With her trouble-averse personality?

She probably would have just said "get lost" like Orochimaru!

Jiraiya, being named and assigned, felt like he'd been hit by a blunt object.

Then his expression changed several times: from "Me again?" with a sense of grievance, to "Maybe it's not so bad?" with resignation, and finally his shoulders slumped.

"Huh?… Oh!" Jiraiya haphazardly scratched his white hair, trying to look serious as he faced the Third Hokage, but the effect was clumsy.

"Alright, Sensei," he nodded. "The blonde kid Minato! I'll take him!" He instinctively obeyed his Sensei's command.

Thinking calmly, Ryo's violent demolition style was indeed more suitable for Tsunade, who also enjoyed violence, to handle.

Taking on the blonde Minato… hmm, should be less trouble?

Hiruzen watched as things settled, the tense string in his heart finally loosening significantly.

It's done! Even smoother than expected!

Tsunade's proactive move solved his biggest worry—Danzo!

No matter how long that guy's arm was, he wouldn't be able to reach into the sphere of influence of "Tsunade's disciple"!

"Good!"

The pipe thumped heavily on the desk with a "thud"!

"This matter," Hiruzen's gaze swept over Tsunade and Jiraiya, "is entrusted to the two of you! Tsunade. Jiraiya."

"You two go and contact and assess them privately, then give me the results."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 13: Piggyback Rescue

The school bell rang, signaling the end of classes.

The last rays of sunlight slipped away from the office.

The oil lamp crackled, casting its light on Homeroom Teacher Kimura Shū's face, a mix of exhaustion and forced sternness.

A thin layer of sweat slicked his forehead, and his voice, deliberately lowered, enunciated each word with effort. "Ryo-kun. Unity and friendship are the Will of Fire. Sparring in Taijutsu class isn't a fight to the death. Minato-kun is still in the medical ward, with a dislocated shoulder, contusions under his ribs, and a mild concussion."

Kimura Shū lectured until his throat was dry, but the figure across the desk remained as stubborn as a reef.

This child's notorious reputation preceded him. Which teacher in the entire Ninja Academy didn't turn a blind eye to his antics? But this time, he had gone too far.

And Ryo?

His eyelids drooped as if he hadn't fully woken up, barely managing to keep his head from thudding onto the desk.

Faced with his unyielding demeanor, Kimura Shū was utterly helpless, only a sigh escaping him.

Kimura Shū waved a hand, tiredly rubbing his temples. "Alright, go home. Next time, next time, remember to keep your limits in mind."

"Got it," Ryo mumbled in response.

He grabbed the faded, worn-at-the-edges old schoolbag from the back of his chair, slung it carelessly over his shoulder, twisted the doorknob, and walked out without a backward glance.

His movements were as swift as if fleeing a plague.

The corridor was quiet, only faint shouts echoing from the distant training ground.

The school gate was mostly empty.

Just a few steps outside the school gate, a suppressed sob and a harsh burst of laughter reached Ryo's ears. Turning the corner into the shadow of the street, he saw a group of people gathered there.

A Genin, wearing a Konoha forehead protector, was pulling a small figure up from the ground by her fiery red hair.

It was Kushina.

Her small face was covered in dust, mixed with tears and despair, like a crumpled, dirty rag doll.

Several older students and the Genin laughed together. One of them pointed at Kushina's red hair, laughing so hard he doubled over. "Hahaha, look, Yamada-san, I told you so. She looks like a ripe, rotting tomato."

"It's this weird red hair." The Genin named Yamada's voice rose, filled with malice, his fingers twisting her strands of hair as if they were something filthy. "So ugly and red, you won't find a third one like it in all of Konoha." He looked around, seeking more agreement. "And her temper is absolutely awful. Isn't that right, little runt?"

Kushina hung suspended, her feet dangling, and the last spark of defiance in her light blue eyes completely extinguished.

Yamada's words, especially "tomato" — the explosion of laughter in the classroom a few days ago, the nasty taunts, the cold malice — like a tide, instantly engulfed her.

All her grievances, helplessness, anger, and self-loathing for her red hair burst forth.

"Waa… I… I…!" Kushina's voice shattered, no longer her usual stubbornness, but a wail of utter defeat, tears mixing with dirt as they streamed down. "I… I hate this red hair the most myself! Waaah!"

That desperate cry pricked a nerve in Ryo.

It wasn't just Kushina's red hair they were mocking. That was his own taboo, a taboo he had beaten the entire Ninja Academy into submission to suppress.

More than that, they were mocking Kushina herself, the only one who wasn't afraid to approach him, the little bandit classmate who dared to steal his rations, the troublesome friend he complained about but would secretly add an extra portion of food for at night.

Yamada was still grinning triumphantly, saying to those around him, "Did you hear that? Even she herself… huh?!" Before he could finish, his vision blurred.

The onlookers didn't even see how the figure rushed over. They only felt a gust of foul wind.

Ryo's face was as cold as frost, the chill in his eyes sharper than a blade.

He didn't even speak, that ferocious aura unreservedly crushing down. The older students who had been laughing a second ago instantly became like chickens with their necks squeezed, their smiles frozen on their faces as they instinctively took a few steps back.

"R… Ryo?!" The triumph on Yamada's face instantly turned to terror, his voice changing pitch.

Of course he recognized that face, that red hair. This was the Ninja Academy's most terrifying nightmare.

Damn it. Didn't they say it was a world of difference once you graduated and became a Genin?

The Chunin leading his team had thumped his chest, guaranteeing, "Ninja Academy students are like little brothers in front of Genin." That voice was still buzzing in his ears.

It was all nonsense. A monster was still a monster.

The brief surge of confidence from successfully becoming a Genin made him think he was capable. He had specifically returned to the Ninja Academy today to settle the scores from when he used to get beaten up.

But the nightmare itself was right before his eyes.

He wanted to let go, wanted to retreat. Too late.

Ryo's movements were as swift as a ghost.

His right hand shot out like lightning, not a fist, but five fingers gripping Yamada's wrist, the one still clutching Kushina's hair.

"Snap."

The crisp sound of bone dislocating was incredibly clear.

"Aaaagh!" Yamada's pig-like shriek almost tore through the twilight sky. The intense pain made him instantly release his grip.

Kushina fell to the ground as if her strength had given out.

Ryo didn't even glance at Kushina, his icy gaze fixed solely on Yamada's face, contorted with pain and fear.

The grip on his wrist didn't loosen in the slightest, even twisting cruelly.

Yamada felt his bones groan and shatter. He tried to break free, but found the strength from the hand gripping him was like an iron clamp, unmoving.

Ryo's other hand balled into a fist at his waist, his elbow slamming backward, striking Yamada squarely in the chest and abdomen without any fancy moves.

"Thud."

A dull, heart-stopping impact sounded.

Yamada's body arched sharply upward like a broken sack, his eyeballs bulging, his scream abruptly cut short, turning into a gasping, rattling sound as saliva mixed with suspicious acidic fluid spewed out.

A violent sense of suffocation and the pain of tearing internal organs instantly overwhelmed him.

Ryo's movements were as fluid as breathing.

His right arm, twisting the wrist, combined with the power from his waist and legs, used the momentum to forcefully slam Yamada against the cold stone wall beside them.

"Clang. Crash."

Yamada's body hit the wall squarely, without any cushioning.

A massive impact echoed through the alley, making people's eardrums throb.

Loose stones crumbled down from the wall.

Yamada slid down the wall like a flattened fly, collapsing onto the ground, his body twitching irregularly, unable to even whimper.

His brand new ninja forehead protector hung askew on one side of his forehead, the beautiful swirl symbol dull and lifeless.

The world fell silent.

The entire process took no more than five seconds.

The onlookers' faces were ashen, silent as cicadas, their eyes on Ryo as if looking at a true demon or Asura.

So strong. So ruthless.

A Genin? In front of the red-haired demon, he was like paper.

Only then did Ryo lower his gaze to Kushina, who had fallen to the ground, tear streaks still on her small face, but her mouth agape in shock, having forgotten to cry.

"Tsk." He pursed his lips and walked over.

"Get up." His tone was still stiff, without any comforting gentleness.

Ryo bent down, not gently but efficiently grabbing Kushina's arm, half-lifting, half-cradling her from the ground. Her knees clearly had scrapes, her hair was completely disheveled, covered in dust, and she looked utterly bedraggled.

Kushina was still shaken. When Ryo pulled her up, she stumbled, instinctively wanting to throw herself into his arms for a sense of security, but was frozen in place by Ryo's intimidating aura that warned people to keep their distance. She could only let him hold her arm.

Ryo frowned, looking at her state, especially her red, tear-stained eyes and the muddy streaks on her cheeks.

"Tsk." He clicked his tongue again, his impatience growing.

Kushina's heart clenched, thinking he was going to scold her for causing trouble.

But then Ryo, with a somewhat rough motion, raised his hand and used the inside of his own still-clean sleeve to haphazardly wipe her still-wet cheeks a couple of times.

His movements were awkward, making Kushina feel a little pain, and dislodging a few undried grains of sand.

But the dry, rough touch of the fabric, and Ryo's frowning yet genuinely wiping-her-face action, were like a faint but real spark of fire, unexpectedly piercing through the desperate, icy darkness in Kushina's heart.

He hadn't abandoned her.

He had beaten up that bad guy.

And now, he was helping her wipe her face.

Even if his technique was terrible.

Grievance, fear, and a little inexplicable warmth mixed together, making her nose sting and her tear ducts threaten to burst again.

"Don't cry." Ryo immediately glared at her fiercely. "You're too loud." But his voice unconsciously lowered a bit.

Scolded by him, Kushina sniffled and actually managed to hold back her tears, leaving only a pair of wet, red, wide eyes staring at him blankly and dependently.

Ryo turned around and half-squatted in front of her.

"Get on. I'll take you home." His tone left no room for argument.

Kushina froze, looking at the not-so-broad back in front of her, dressed in faded old clothes.

"Hurry up," Ryo urged impatiently.

Kushina flinched at the shout, instinctively and clumsily climbed onto his back, her arms carefully wrapping around Ryo's neck.

Her body was very light, but the moment she pressed against him, Ryo still frowned slightly. The soft, gentle feeling of a girl was unusually strange and awkward to him.

Kushina carefully lay on his back, her two slender legs supported by his strong hands.

As he stood upright, Kushina felt as if she was lifted from the ground by a solid force, and briefly lifted away from the terrifying nightmare she had just experienced.

She gently pressed her hot cheek against the spot just above Ryo's nape, where the stubborn and messy roots of his red hair were.

"Which way?" Ryo shifted her weight, his tone returning to its usual indifference.

"Um… um… turn left, go through two commercial streets, towards the old Senju clan compound…" Kushina whispered, her voice thick with a nasal tone and the hoarseness of someone who had just escaped danger. "Mito-baachan's house…"

Ryo started walking, completely ignoring the onlookers still frozen in place.

His pace was not fast, but very steady.

The evening breeze ruffled Kushina's messy red hair, and also brushed against Ryo's neck.

Kushina lay on his back, feeling the steady and slight jostling. The fear slowly receded, and a strange sense of security quietly crept into her heart.

She hesitated, then bravely whispered, "Ryo… are… are you very angry?" Her voice was barely louder than a mosquito's, carrying careful tentativeness.

Ryo's steps didn't falter. After a few seconds of silence, he grumbled in a muffled voice, "…It's fine."

"But that person, he seemed to say… he was… taught a lesson by you before?" Kushina remembered Yamada's terrified expression when he saw him.

Ryo snorted. "Too much trash, who remembers which pit they crawled out of?"

That was indeed the case. Minor characters like Yamada, who only deserved one punch before being sent packing, held no place in his memory.

Kushina fell silent.

After walking for a while, the dim streetlights at the corner cast long shadows of the two of them.

Kushina's voice softly rose again. "Ryo… just now… when that person was pulling my hair… I said I hated red hair… it was… it was out of anger." Her voice was a little urgent, wanting to explain clearly. "I… I don't really hate it… I'm just… just so sad… they always… always say 'tomato'… that's why I…"

Ryo continued walking, not looking back, only tossing out a blunt reply. "What's it to them? Can't even control their own mouths over someone else's hair?" He paused, then seemed to think his words weren't harsh enough, adding fiercely, "Next time anyone dares to run their mouth, you tell them my name. If that doesn't work, just point them out to me after I wake up."

These words were domineering and unreasonable to the extreme.

But to Kushina's ears, they sounded like an indestructible form of protection.

Grievance and unease surged again, but this time, she clung tightly to this unreasonable protection.

She buried her face deeper into Ryo's clothes, which carried a faint scent of sweat and dust, and mumbled a muffled "Mm."

On her cute little face, the corners of her mouth were secretly turned up.

Neither of them spoke again.

They walked past the brightly lit commercial street, the clamor of the crowd gradually fading away.

Ryo, guided by Kushina's occasional pointers, entered a quiet area.

Tall, traditional wooden houses were scattered about. This was the old Senju clan compound.

Finally, they stopped in front of a heavy, ancient wooden door.

"Are we there?" Ryo asked.

"Mm…" Kushina softly replied, her voice mumbling and still carrying a cute nasal tone.

Ryo's hand supporting her bent legs loosened slightly, preparing to squat down to let her off.

Just then, with a creak, the door opened.

The first to run out was Nawaki. He seemed to have just returned home from training, yelling, "Sis. Have you seen my kunai pouch…" Before he could finish, his gaze passed over Tsunade, who had opened the door, and he froze at the doorway as if struck by lightning.

In the last rays of the setting sun, the Red-Haired Tyrant, Ryo, known throughout the school and whom Nawaki himself tried to avoid, stood at their doorstep, carrying his family's new red-haired little sister, Kushina, on his back.

Their posture was awkward yet somewhat… how to describe it?

Strangely harmonious.

Ryo's face, usually either irritable or indifferent, showed no expression. Kushina was nestled against his back, her small face still buried in his clothes, only revealing a bit of her flushed profile and messy red hair.

Nawaki's eyes instantly widened more than his kunai, his mouth agape enough to fit an egg.

"Clang." The water bottle he was holding dropped to the ground, making a crisp sound. The water sloshed out, spilling all over the doorstep.

(To be continued.)

 

Chapter 14: Meet the Senjus

 

The heavy, ancient main gate of the Senju compound stood open, and people were standing behind the threshold.

The last rays of the setting sun outlined the silhouettes of two young women. One tall and blonde, with a fiery figure, arms crossed over her chest, a hint of an inquisitive curve on her lips, and eyes like blades scanning between him and Kushina. It was Tsunade.

The other had red hair tied in two buns, wearing an elegant kimono, with gentle and perceptive eyes, carrying a faint sense of relief. Uzumaki Mito.

Nawaki had just run out in a panic, yelling "Sis," and the clang of a bottle hitting the ground intensified the tension.

Nawaki now stood with his mouth agape, eyes wide, staring intently at him and Kushina, who had just slid off his back.

As soon as Kushina's feet touched the ground, the scrape on her knee twinged, and she instinctively hissed, swaying slightly, subconsciously grabbing Ryo's faded clothes.

Tsunade's scrutinizing gaze, Mito's peaceful eyes, Nawaki's idiotic expression, Kushina's action of grabbing his clothes, an invisible pressure permeated the air.

He had never met Tsunade in person, only heard that she was a hot-tempered master. His instinct told him that this was big trouble.

An uncomfortable feeling of being nailed to a display rack instantly seized him.

"Cough." Ryo abruptly pulled his clothes back, so quickly that he almost made Kushina stumble.

He cleared his throat and spoke stiffly, "Kushina, you're home. I'll be going now." With that, he turned to slip away.

"Wait." Tsunade's voice wasn't loud, but it pinned him in place like a nail.

She walked down the steps in a few strides, not looking at Ryo, but first carefully examining Kushina. Disheveled red hair, a small face streaked with dust and tears, torn pants, and a knee injury.

Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, and then her gaze slowly returned to Ryo, with a sharp, assessing look as if evaluating something new.

She had seen Ryo and Minato's fierce fight through a crystal ball that afternoon and had also heard the notorious reputation from Nawaki's complaints. But now, this person was actually carrying Kushina back?

This contrast made her very curious.

"You're Ryo?" Tsunade finally spoke, her voice calm but edged with curiosity. "Nawaki keeps calling you a tyrant, but today I'm seeing another side of you. What's this, playing the knight in shining armor now?"

Nawaki behind them finally found his voice, stammering, "Sis. He… he's Ryo. That…" The word tyrant caught in his throat, not daring to come out.

Ryo was tense and rigid all over.

Someone like Tsunade knew about his mess?

And she was even looking at him as if judging him.

"Don't know," Ryo muttered, shrugging. "Just some trash—I swept it up."

Mito's gentle voice chimed in, "Tsunade, let the guest come in first. Ryo, you've worked hard." She looked at Kushina's knee with concern. "Kushina is injured, healing her is the priority."

Tsunade nodded, suppressing her questions, and turned to Ryo. "Did you hear? Since you brought her back, lend a hand and help her in." She gestured toward the door.

Ryo's heart pounded like a drum.

Go in? Stay with Tsunade, Mito, and Nawaki? For a first meeting in this strange atmosphere? No. Absolutely not.

"No need. I still have training. Kushina, see you tomorrow." Ryo quickly blurted out an excuse, his words like a chanted spell. "Farewell." He turned and bolted, like an arrow shot from a bow, whooshing away in a gust of wind.

Only the silhouette of the red-haired boy wildly running remained on the stone path.

Tsunade was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Ha. This kid runs faster than a rabbit. Nawaki, didn't you say he was a Calamity Star? Why is he like this?" Her laughter echoed through the neighborhood, with a hint of amusement. The contrast between rumor and reality was too interesting.

Nawaki was completely dumbfounded. Oh right. Was this still the fierce Ryo?

Kushina stared blankly in Ryo's direction, her face confused. The warmth of being carried back was still there, but now mixed with a sense of loss. Why did he run?

"Alright," Tsunade put an arm around Kushina, "let's go in, girl, let your sister check your injury." She helped Kushina into the house.

Nawaki silently picked up the kettle and followed.

In the living room, Mito sat quietly.

Tsunade had Kushina sit down, and she herself knelt to examine the wound. "It's a bad fall, but a minor issue." Green light glowed from her palm, yang-nature chakra covered the injury, the bruise dissipated, and the wound scabbed over, leaving only a red mark. "Try moving it."

Kushina moved her legs and feet, surprised. "It really doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you, Tsunade-neesan."

Tsunade waved her hand. "It's nothing." Then she lowered her voice, her eyes inquisitive. "Kushina, that kid… didn't Nawaki say he was fierce before? This is the first time I've seen him in person, and he's like a different person. Tell me, what happened? How did he end up carrying you?" She was curious about the origin of this contrast.

Nawaki complained from the side, "Sis. He's a bully."

Tsunade ignored him. "Nawaki always says he's unapproachable, but seeing him with you… are you two secretly dating?" Tsunade teased. "Kushina, you move quick—and I've got to admit, Ryo's a good-looking kid."

Kushina's face flushed slightly, and she said flustered, "No… nothing. Sister Tsunade, don't guess wildly." Images of fighting over meat and being protected in the alley flashed through her mind, both sweet and shy, so she buried her face and whispered, "Ah, don't ask."

Tsunade noticed Kushina's ears turn red and her smile widened. "Alright, alright, I won't press. But it looks like our little Kushina's all grown up, huh?" She gave Kushina's ear a playful tug, her curiosity about Ryo easing a bit at Kushina's reaction.

Nawaki turned his head and mumbled, "The world is going to the dogs…"

Mito smiled as she looked out at the twilight, in the direction where Ryo had disappeared, her eyes growing increasingly relieved. The once stubborn red-haired boy had revealed a protective side in their reunion.

(To be continued.)

 

Chapter 15: Whetstone

Ryo almost sped back to his shabby house without his feet touching the ground. The door slammed shut behind him with a bang, shaking dust from the ceiling.

He leaned back against the cold door, running a hand through his striking red hair, coarse and rough like dry grass.

"What the hell," he cursed under his breath. The scene at the Senju main house entrance replayed in his mind. Tsunade's scrutinizing gaze, Mito's all-knowing gentle smile, Nawaki's idiotic face as if he'd seen a ghost, and… Kushina's small gesture of tugging his clothes.

That feeling was worse than being stripped naked and thrown into a marketplace.

He roughly scrubbed his face, trying to suppress the inexplicable heat and an unidentifiable irritation.

Wasn't it just carrying an injured little girl home?

What's the big deal. The key was what?

He actually ran away.

This was completely not Kamiyama Ryo's style.

Normally, he wouldn't even flinch at cracking the heads of classmates who dared disturb his sleep—yet this time, he'd run off in a panic.

Humiliating. Too humiliating.

The more Ryo thought about it, the more choked up he felt, a nameless fire rising in his chest.

No, he had to vent.

Grrrrumble.

Coinciding with his thoughts, his stomach let out a resounding protest.

Hungry. A hunger more intense than after training instantly washed away all other thoughts.

He also had to prepare for that little bandit Kushina's raid tomorrow.

Ryo sighed.

This little girl, once she latched on, she wouldn't let go. Ever since a piece of pork hock started it last time, he felt like he'd boarded a pirate ship, automatically adding a few extra ounces of meat to his lunch every day.

"Trouble." He squeezed these two words through his teeth, but his hand dutifully grabbed the old cloth bag hanging in the corner and a katana with a slightly worn edge.

No matter how troublesome, he couldn't starve himself.

The night was inky black, carrying the unique chill of late autumn and the rusty smell of soil mixed with decaying leaves.

Ryo, like a phantom merged with the night, silently scaled the outer wall of Konoha.

The patrolling ninja squad remained completely unaware of his deliberately suppressed presence.

He could find his way to the depths of the Forest of Death with his eyes closed.

At night, the Forest of Death's danger level escalated exponentially.

But for Ryo, this was his hunting ground, his refrigerator, and his training ground.

The air was filled with a strong wild scent, and the glowing beast eyes in the darkness outnumbered the stars in the sky.

His luck was good tonight. He didn't have to try too hard to encounter a lone adult wild boar.

This fellow was fat and strong, with gleaming white tusks, very fierce, and an excellent source of energy.

Swish.

Ryo didn't use a sharpened wooden stick this time. With a flick of his wrist, the katana at his waist unsheathed with a faint hum.

In the dim light, the blade reflected the cold moonlight, as intimidating as the sharp glint in his eyes.

The wild boar roared and charged.

Ryo stood firm, his feet unmoving. The instant the tusks were almost about to pierce his lower abdomen, his body slid sideways at an incredibly strange yet fluid angle, as if practiced a thousand times.

At the same time, the katana transformed into a white line, difficult to discern with the naked eye, slashing upward diagonally.

Shing!

A soft sound, like a sharp knife cutting through thick leather.

A line of blood shot out into the air, carrying a scorching heat.

The massive wild boar didn't even have time to let out a dying squeal before it slammed heavily to the ground, maintaining its charging posture. Its limbs twitched a few times, then it stopped moving.

The entire hunt was swift, precise, and deadly.

Ryo flicked off a few drops of hot blood from the tip of his blade and emotionlessly sheathed his sword.

Only the smell of blood rapidly permeated the air.

Just as he habitually dragged his prey, preparing to process it on the spot, an extremely subtle yet unusual sensation, like an ice needle piercing bone, suddenly shot up his spine to the back of his head.

Not a beast. It was a human, carrying a hidden killing intent.

In a flash of lightning, Ryo didn't even have time to fully turn around.

Swish.

A blade of water, carrying a fierce wind pressure, tore through the air without warning, precisely slicing toward the joint of his right arm, which was dragging the prey.

The speed was incredible, the angle so tricky, definitely a master.

Buzz.

Ryo's body, driven by instinct, erupted with its maximum potential. The hand holding the sword moved almost at the same instant he perceived the danger.

It wasn't a block, nor was it an evade. Instead, his body's center of gravity inexplicably sank, his arm muscles instantly tensed like steel cables, and he spun back fiercely, using the heavy wild boar corpse as leverage.

Puff.

A large chunk of the wild boar's hind leg was grazed and cut off by the water blade, splattering foul blood and taking what should have been a fatal blow for him.

"Damn it."

Ryo cursed angrily, his internal alarm bells ringing wildly.

This was an ambush.

Where did this master come from?

Could it be Danzo's old cunning Root ninja? Or an enemy spy?

He had no time to think. He pushed with his left hand, kicking away the obstructive wild boar carcass. His right hand unsheathed the katana with a clang, and he twisted like a predatory leopard, the cold blade tip pointing directly at the attacker's blurry figure.

The moonlight fell sparingly, revealing the attacker dressed in standard Konoha Anbu attire, wearing a featureless animal mask. Only a pair of eyes, hidden in the shadows, were sharp as an owl's, coldly locked onto him.

No words, no explanation.

The Anbu flickered, charging forward again, even faster than before.

This time it wasn't an ambush, but a full-on frontal assault.

He quickly formed hand seals, moving so fast that he left afterimages.

"Suiton: Mizurappa (Water Release: Wild Water Wave)."

Splash.

A massive torrent of water seemed to be summoned from thin air, forming several high-speed swirling currents that fiercely crashed into Ryo.

Ryo's pupils constricted. Instead of retreating, he advanced. The 30 percent combat experience inherited from Shanks erupted with brilliant light at this moment.

He pushed off with his feet, creating a shallow pit in the ground, and charged head-on into the roaring water currents.

A flash of sword light. So fast that only a flowing silver streak remained.

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.

The katana became an afterimage in Ryo's hands. Every slash, every block, precisely struck the core or weakest point of the water currents.

The immense impact made his arm muscles bulge. Every collision caused his blood to churn, but his steps remained exceptionally steady. He forcefully shattered the Mizurappa, which could have sent an ordinary chūnin flying, inch by inch.

Amidst the splashing water, Ryo's eyes grew brighter and brighter. A long-lost, exhilarating battle spirit burned in his chest.

This pressure—this oppressive feeling—was exactly what he needed to break through his limit.

"Again." Ryo let out a suppressed growl from his throat, his battle intent boiling.

He cast aside his initial surprise. Whoever you are, if you're going to throw yourself in my way, don't blame me for cutting you down to hone my edge

(To be continued.)

 

Chapter 16: The Mask Comes Off

The "Anbu" showed a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but his movements became even faster.

Hand seals changed again!

"Suiton: Suijinheki! (Water Release: Water Formation Wall)"

A thick, diamond-shaped water wall rose from the ground, blocking Ryo's sword strike. At the same time, several thinner, sharper arrows of water shot out silently from behind the wall, aiming straight at his vitals.

Clang, clang, clang!

Ryo's sword spun like a wheel, shredding every water arrow. At the same moment, he ducked low and lunged forward.

The tip of his sword instantly pierced the core node of the water wall.

Pop!

With a crisp sound, the Suijinheki shattered into fragments of water.

A slight frown appeared beneath the mask.

The "Anbu" was clearly surprised that Ryo could so easily find the weakness of Suiton techniques. This wasn't just brute strength—it required sharp insight and combat intuition.

"He" decisively changed strategy. No more Suiton, which consumed chakra and was proving ineffective. His body flickered as he switched to taijutsu.

Fists, elbows, knees, and legs… every strike carried heavy wind pressure, forceful and vicious, each coming from cunning, unpredictable angles.

Ryo met him head-on without flinching.

With Shanks' battle experience fused into him, close-quarters was exactly his territory.

His katana chopped, hacked, parried, and thrust in sweeping arcs, while his fists and feet slipped in counterstrikes that came out of nowhere.

There was no fixed pattern to his movements, only the wild unpredictability of a death match. Every impact rang out with a dull, powerful thud.

In the forest, two figures fought at blistering speed, each clash stirring up gusts of wind, metal ringing, and a flurry of leaves scattering into the night.

Bang!

After blocking a heavy punch, Ryo seized the opening and whipped his leg around like a steel lash, striking the opponent's waist. The impact felt like kicking a steel ingot wrapped in rubber.

"Ugh!"

The "Anbu" grunted, forced several steps back by the blow. Under the mask, his eyes widened slightly.

This kid's strength… it's rising? The recoil left a subtle numbness in his waist and abdomen.

Ryo, sensing the advantage, was about to press forward when suddenly, a profound, mystical sensation erupted deep inside him. It was like a dam finally cracking under floodwaters.

In his mind, the system prompt that had been stuck at [Shanks' Legacy Integration: 30%] burst into radiant light.

A cold, mechanical voice rang out:

[Host detected breaking through bottleneck under extreme pressure. Shanks' Legacy Integration increased to: 30%!]

[Legacy continues to unlock…]

[Shanks' Legacy unlocked to: 60%!]

[Shanks' Legacy Integration increased to: 35%!]

Buzz—

A torrent of power surged through his limbs and bones, vaster than ever before.

Shanks' advanced combat wisdom, refined swordsmanship, mastery of Haki and body control, all of it poured into his mind and muscle memory like a flood.

It was like a metamorphosis from within, breaking free of a cocoon. Power surged, bones resonated, dormant cells rejoiced.

[Legacy unlocked! Current Integration: 35%]

[Integration 30%-60% corresponds to: Jōnin-Kage level (potential)]

Ryo's movements stilled for a fraction of a second. His silver-gray eyes blazed brilliantly in the dark.

So that's it.

The bottleneck wasn't going to move with easy training. He needed this kind of brutal, life-or-death pressure.

"So… you were a big help!" Ryo's lips curved into a grin filled with fighting spirit and a touch of bloodlust. His voice was low but sharp with excitement. "Thanks."

This time, he charged first. His movements turned crisp, fluid, and lethal.

Every step was ghostlike. The katana in his hand was no longer clumsy hacking—it now carried an indescribable "spirit" and weight.

The sword had become part of his body.

The "Anbu" immediately sensed the difference.

Ryo's speed, strength, technique, and even aura all surged to a new level.

If before, he could maintain a slight edge with experience and stronger chakra, now a crushing pressure pressed down on him.

It was as if his opponent was no longer a child, but a veteran swordsman forged through a thousand battles.

They clashed again, but the tide had shifted.

Ryo's swordsmanship grew sharper, each strike carrying an invisible cutting edge that tore the air with piercing shrieks. Even stray leaves were sliced apart by the passing blade.

Bang!

After another fierce collision, the "Anbu" retreated with the force, then clapped his hands and aimed toward a hanging waterfall nearby.

"Suiton: Suiryūdan no Jutsu! (Water Release: Water Dragon Bullet Technique)"

Boom!!!

A deafening roar shook the forest.

The waterfall surged as if seized by an unseen giant hand, forming into a massive, ferocious water dragon that barreled forward, jaws wide with crushing force.

Even before it reached him, the gale whipped at Ryo's face.

His eyes lit up. He didn't retreat. He stepped forward instead, katana raised high. His arm swelled with explosive strength.

Slash!!!

Buzz!

The blade cut an arc brighter than moonlight, tearing the air itself apart.

A visible crescent-shaped shockwave erupted from the swing. No ornamentation, no tricks—just pure cutting intent.

Chhh—!

The shockwave sliced through the massive water dragon like tofu.

The dragon exploded into a downpour of scattered rain.

The slash didn't stop. It tore into the ground behind the "Anbu."

Rumble!!!

Dirt and stone blasted apart. A trench several feet deep and ten meters long appeared in the darkness.

The "Anbu's" pupils shrank beneath the mask.

Ryo's chest surged with battle spirit, ready to press the advantage, squeezing every drop of value out of this opponent.

But then, the flood of newly integrated power abruptly cooled.

An overwhelming wave of fatigue and weakness crashed through his body.

The intense limit breakthrough and battle had wrung out every ounce of strength.

The arm holding his katana trembled with soreness, each breath burned in his chest, his legs felt like lead, and even standing upright was a struggle.

He braced himself with the tip of his sword, panting heavily, sweat dripping down his face.

"Damn it. Eight-year-old body really can't handle this?" he cursed inwardly. The strain had completely drained his still-developing body.

The power was real, but his body needed time to adapt.

Rain fell, soaking his hair, blurring his vision.

The forest lay in ruins, the only sounds the rushing waterfall and his ragged breathing.

The "Anbu" stood not far away, watching him through the rain. There were signs of exhaustion as well, his uniform torn from the backlash of his own Suiton techniques.

Bang!

A puff of white smoke burst out.

The "Anbu" vanished.

In his place stood a tall woman.

Golden hair glistened in the moonlight, clinging to her temples and slender neck. Her soaked uniform outlined a strong, curving figure.

Her striking face carried the lingering sharpness of battle.

It was none other than the princess of Konoha, Senju Tsunade—the same woman Ryo had been desperately trying to avoid earlier.

Ryo's head snapped up, his mind buzzing at the sight.

Tsunade?!

Absurdity and irritation spiked through him.

He had come into the forest to blow off steam, specifically to avoid her and the circus-like atmosphere around her. And instead, he got nearly beaten to death by her?

"Hahahaha!"

Tsunade let out an unrestrained laugh, echoing through the wrecked forest, startling a few night birds.

"Kid!" She strode forward, a mischievous grin on her beautiful face, drawing out her words. "Didn't expect it was me, did you? Fun fight?"

(To be continued.)

 

Chapter 17: Aftermath

Ryo silently looked at the smiling face in front of him, then at the deep, long trench his slash had carved into the ground, and the wild boar carcass in the distance with half its hind leg cut off. A heavy sense of bewilderment washed over him.

What is this supposed to mean?

Just because I did not go to the Senju house for tea, you disguised yourself as Anbu, chased me into the Forest of Death, and "taught me a lesson"?

Is her brain wired wrong?

Ryo felt a herd of curses stampeding through his chest, but only squeezed out a dry line: "…Tsunade-sama?"

Tsunade seemed to completely miss the storm in his chest, or rather, she caught it and did not care.

She ignored the curves traced by her drenched combat uniform as she walked a few steps to stand before Ryo. She looked down at him, but her eyes were much gentler than during the fight, carrying the pickiness of someone satisfied with an inspection.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" She raised an eyebrow. A soft green light bloomed at her fingertips as she pressed precisely on his shoulder and arm grazed by a water blade.

Warm life energy poured in, and the small wounds visibly closed and scabbed. His sore, weak muscles felt as if a warm current had been injected, and his fatigue quickly receded.

Ryo's body recognized the technique at once, A-rank ninjutsu, Shōsen Jutsu (Mystical Palm Technique).

His tensed muscles relaxed a little on their own, but his guard and confusion did not drop at all.

"Tsk. Not badly injured, just too much consumption. This small body is still a bit weak." Tsunade finished the treatment, withdrew her hand, and patted it clean. Her movements were swift and decisive.

"Do not look at me like that, kid." She finally put away her mischievous smile, though a hint of teasing still lingered in her eyes. "You think I am so bored I ran over here just to beat you up and vent?"

Ryo pursed his lips and stared at her in silence.

The meaning in his eyes was clear. Otherwise?

"Phew." Tsunade wiped the rain from her face, then jerked her thumb at the boar carcass lying behind them. "Let's get this big guy back. I'm starving, and that fight took more out of me than I expected."

Her words carried the casual authority of someone used to giving orders, but there was no real malice in them—just straightforward bluntness.

Ryo: "…"

She raised a brow when he didn't immediately move. "Well? The rain's not letting up anytime soon. You planning to stand here until we're both drenched?"

Ryo took a steady breath, suppressing the urge to argue. He wasn't in top shape, and the last thing he needed was a drawn-out spat with a woman like Tsunade. Better to save his strength for something that actually mattered.

He stood up, forced down his body's protests, walked to the boar carcass, and hefted it up roughly.

Tsunade, meanwhile, casually carried the severed hind leg as if it weighed nothing.

She glanced at Ryo's strained movements, said nothing, and only raised her chin to indicate, "Lead the way."

Rain washed the forest path, leaving behind two silent sets of footprints.

Ryo carried the heavy boar, each step stamping deep into the mud.

The exhaustion in his body had been eased greatly by Tsunade's treatment, but the questions and frustration in his chest snowballed.

By the time they returned to his dilapidated house on the village outskirts, as simple as a shack, the rain had just stopped.

Ryo swung the boar off his shoulder with a clang onto the big bluestone in the yard that served as his chopping block, splashing mud and water.

He reversed his grip and stabbed the chipped, broken sword into the ground, then pushed open the creaking wooden door without a word.

Tsunade followed closely and walked in without ceremony.

The house was extremely simple, with almost no furniture. The most eye-catching things were a huge seasoning box, releasing all kinds of spice aromas, and a pile of homemade long meat skewers and baskets of smoked meat by the wall.

The air was full of firewood, dust, and spices. It was not pleasant, but for Ryo at that moment, it was the only place he could breathe. Though his safe haven had just been invaded.

"Tsk, poorer than I thought." Tsunade looked around without restraint, her gaze sweeping over a few yellowed ninja scrolls in the corner, then landing on the large seasoning box and the neatly stacked leaf-wrapped bundles beside it. "But you are pretty well equipped."

Ryo ignored her. He scooped a ladle of cold water from a chipped ceramic jar in the corner, tilted his head back, and gulped it down. Water slid down his increasingly defined jawline, washing off a trace of his ragged look.

The cold water pressed down the burn in his throat and the agitation in his chest.

He wiped his mouth, did not bother with greetings, and went straight to the big bluestone in the yard.

Konoha's night went quiet again.

Only the whistle of a blade through air and heavy chopping thuds broke the silence.

Moonlight slipped out from behind the clouds, illuminating the focused redhead in the yard.

Ryo rolled up his sleeves, revealing the clean muscle lines on his forearms. Young, but full of power.

The thick-backed cleaver felt weightless in his hands, driven with brutal efficiency.

Swish, swish, swish.

The blade flashed in the moonlight, flowing like water.

Thick hindquarter meat?

A swift chop, clean decomposition into stew-ready chunks, the crisp sound of bone separating from meat sharp and clear. Tough fascia was as fragile as paper under his knife.

Ribs with tender meat?

A precise slicing cut along the bone seam, the tip prying and turning, and evenly thick, snowflake-patterned slices scattered like petals into the rough ceramic basin.

Lean leg meat? Thin slices. The blade ran along the grain, each slice translucent and almost identical in size.

Tenderloin? Large cut. The knife swept in an arc to remove a complete strip.

Separating tendons. Deboning. Trimming fascia.

His movements were swift, precise, and dominant, every detail showing the skill of a seasoned butcher and a self-contained violent meat aesthetic.

The boar's massive body was systematically disassembled under his orderly hands, not an ounce wasted.

Sweat trickled from his forehead onto the cold stone slab. He did not seem to notice, his eyes fixed on the mountain of meat.

Tsunade leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed, watching.

The scrutiny and playfulness in her gaze gradually faded, replaced by growing surprise and focus.

This kid's knife work, it is not just strength and speed. It is eyesight, prediction, an instinct in his bones, honed across countless cuts.

This is not cooking at all. It is another form of combat artistry.

The focus and confidence coming off his movements were more condensed and pure than many sword masters she had seen.

This kid had a terrifying sense of control.

When Ryo picked up the large ceramic basin, poured in a generous amount of coarse salt over the mountain of tender slices, then scattered dried chili flakes and various spice powders, and finally drizzled shimmering animal fat and thick miso, the dominant yet complex spicy aroma burst out at once.

Then he slipped on thick "gloves" made from bark and vines, and got to work.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

His powerful hands plunged into the meat, kneading, squeezing, and grabbing. Every motion carried raw power, making sure every piece was tightly coated with the thick spices and oil.

The air began to fill with a rich, mouthwatering aroma.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 18: Appreciation

"This smell…" Tsunade twitched her nose, her throat moving involuntarily.

This simple, rough pickling method produced a domineering aroma that slammed straight into her appetite.

Ryo stayed in rhythm, roughly wrapping and pressing the kneaded slices of meat tight with large, clean leaves, then weighing them down with big stones.

The remaining strips of meat he salted evenly and hung aside.

His hands moved so fast they dazzled the eye.

After handling the raw meat, Ryo set up the old scrap-iron pot that could boil a whole pig, filled it with water, and tossed in a few smashed wild boar leg bones and meat scraps.

He then slipped into the small woods beside the house and, in a blink, returned with a handful of wild spring onions still beaded with dew, some old ginger, a few unknown wild fruits, and a cluster of umbrella-shaped wild mushrooms, which he tore and dropped into the pot.

A big flame leapt up. Gurgle, gurgle…

Soon, steam carrying rich bone aroma, the sharp bite of wild spring onions, and the earthy fragrance of mushrooms pushed back against the dominating spice of grilled meat, rising in wisps straight into their noses.

Tsunade finally straightened and paced over to the simple barbecue grill in the corner.

The fresh-lit charcoal crackled softly. She picked up two nearly two-meter-long homemade skewers and, with fluid ease, threaded thick-cut ribs and large slices of leg meat onto them.

Her technique was as natural as picking up a kunai.

Ryo glanced at her, said nothing, and accepted the "help."

All his focus was on filling the yawning emptiness left by being drained.

Thick cuts sizzled as the flames licked them.

Hot fat dripped onto the red charcoal, flaring into bluish-white tongues of fire.

Sizzle.

Ryo took several deep breaths of the supercharged aroma flooding the yard—the char of grilled meat, the mellow stew, heavy woodsmoke, pungent marinade. His exhausted spirit felt like it had been hit with a strong stimulant.

His eyes brightened, and the subtle soreness in his muscles seemed to ease under the assault of scent.

He fed the fire, turned the meat, and tasted the soup for salt. His hands were fast, precise, and steady, and a serious gourmet's aura settled over him.

When the first golden piece of grilled meat was torn off, blown on, and popped into his mouth, the crisp outside, tender inside, erupting juices, and bone-deep spice made him narrow his eyes in satisfaction. A low, contented sound rumbled in his throat.

Tsunade was even faster. She grabbed a perfectly grilled slice of leg meat, ignored the heat, and bit in.

"Mmm." Her eyes lit up. Rich juices and spice exploded across her tongue. The chew, paired with that domineering, layered flavor, was simple, primal, and completely satisfying.

"Tch. Kid, you've got real skill."

She unceremoniously grabbed a few more of the largest pieces, eating with oil on her lips, hearty as a tomboy.

Ryo, while shoveling calories into the void in his gut, neatly laid more raw slices onto the preheated stone slab.

The hiss of fat on hot stone, mixed with their chewing and swallowing, became the most harmonious music of the moment.

Tsunade cleared her plate like a whirlwind, then, still unsatisfied, turned to the extra-large bamboo bento box Ryo was portioning.

Watching him neatly layer the enticing slices, even picking out the best thick-cut chops to place on top before covering it with the big bamboo lid, she noted the amount was clearly more than a single serving.

"Hey." A sly smile crept onto her lips.
"What's with the extra? You cooking for an army?"

Ryo's hand paused on the lid.

His reply was flat: "Stockpile."

His hand, however, pulled the box closer.

That alone answered.

Tsunade's smile lingered, but she let it drop.

She walked to the stove and saw the milky-white bone broth rolling with steam, its rich scent hitting her straight on.

"This soup looks good too." She picked up a big, chipped sea bowl beside the stove and ladled it full without ceremony. Bones, wild spring onion segments, and mushrooms soaked in broth settled into the steaming bowl.

"Hey." Ryo's voice cut.

Tsunade ignored him, blew on the rim, and took a heavy gulp. "Phew, hot, hot. Mmm…" The soup slid down her throat, warmth followed by rich, melted depth.

The heavy bone aroma, mellow oil, sharp green freshness, wild mushroom umami, and a subtle sweet aftertaste from the wild fruits all popped in layers across her tongue.

A comfortable warmth spread from her stomach to her limbs.

"Ha. Refreshing." Tsunade wiped her mouth, heat and satisfaction tinting her face.

"Lady Tsunade." Ryo's expression didn't shift much, but a vein ticked at his temple.

"You came here to eat me dry and chatter like an old hag? That's the serious business?"

Tsunade chuckled at his irritation. She finished the last sip of soup and set the bowl on the stove with a crisp clack.

"Alright, enough jokes." She straightened, expression turning steady. "I did come with reason."

Ryo stared at her, waiting.

"First, I am here to thank you." Tsunade raised a slender finger at him, her tone firm. "Tonight, you brought Kushina home safely, and kept those brainless idiots from stepping on her again. You were quite heavy-handed, but as her sister, I appreciate the protection."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 19: Thanks?

"So you chased me out here and beat me up as a thank you?"

Ryo finally could not hold it in. His voice was edged with anger and absurdity, almost a roar.

He pointed at his mud-soaked clothes. "You beat me from one end of the forest to the other and nearly had me swallowed by a water dragon. Is this how you say thank you?!"

"Right. What else?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow, so righteous it made one want to spit blood. "Beat you, make you work, sweat a little. Is that not the most practical? Do you want me to bring you tea, bow, and say 'thank you'?"

She sneered. "Empty talk. A fight stretches your muscles, loosens your body. Didn't you notice how much sharper your movements got after the spar?"

She raised her chin, referring to Ryo's integration increase during the battle, eyes slightly teasing. "What? My 'thank you gift' was not hard enough? Not exciting enough?"

Ryo almost laughed at the nonsense.

"Alright then. Thanks for the… heartfelt thanks." He let the sarcasm bite.

"Second, I am testing you." Tsunade's voice turned serious. "It is no coincidence you can dominate the Ninja Academy. That 'thank you gift' was enough for me to measure your weight."

"The result?" Ryo met her gaze, cold and steady.

He did not need compliments. He wanted to know her aim.

"So-so." Tsunade gave a neutral verdict, tone flat, eyes sharp. "Your hard power is enough. Thick skin and raw strength. Your fighting style is rough, but there is real substance in your core. Those flexible sword moves do not look like something a brat should have, which is interesting. If I am not mistaken, you are barely passable, stuck at the threshold of Jōnin."

She paused, emphasizing, "Pay attention, barely. Your only edge is being tough and strong."

She took two steps and met Ryo's stubborn gaze. "Your swordsmanship looks crude, but it is blended with a fierce intuition honed through life-and-death fights. There is also a kind of… tsk, hard to describe, like the 'intent' that only a veteran soaked in the sword for decades can possess. It is still vague, like a bud. Boy, who taught you?"

The last question, probing and scrutinizing, went straight to the core.

Her eyesight was vicious.

Even if Shanks' experience was only integrated to 35 percent, that instinctive intent and flexible skill, forged by top masters, had begun to show.

"No one taught me." He sidestepped, voice cold and hard. "I figured it out. After chopping pigs enough times, it came naturally."

"Heh." Tsunade was unconvinced, but she did not press. She snorted. "Fine, I will treat you as a rare talent among wild butchers. But," she shifted without giving room to argue, "you only have stone-like strength and the reckless charge of a boar. Without someone to sharpen the diamond, you only become a better whetstone. You think you are strong? Not even close. If all you know is fighting, you will end up as emotionless fodder for Danzō."

At the mention of Danzō, a cold light flashed in Ryo's eyes.

"Kid," Tsunade walked up, close enough to see his bristling red hair, "someone thinks you are good material and wants me to take you as my apprentice and point you the right way." She leaned in slightly, pressure settling. "Do you know who?"

An image flashed in Ryo's mind, an old pervert with a crystal ball peeping in the office.

"…Hokage?"

"That is right. Sarutobi Hiruzen has taken a liking to you. He thinks you can inherit his Will of Fire." Tsunade straightened, a hint of teasing and pride in her tone. "However, if you want to be my disciple, the old man's recommendation and your bit of brute force are not enough."

She raised two fingers, passing sentence.

"First, meeting the power requirement is your ticket. That 'exam' was the entry ticket. You barely qualify for a second look."

"The second, and most important, rule," Tsunade's eyes turned needle-sharp, her voice dropping with unquestionable weight, "your temper, character, and mindset must pass with me. If you are a disciple who does not suit my taste, whether recommended by Sarutobi Hiruzen or the son of the Rikudō Sennin, get out."

In Konoha, no one could force Tsunade to accept someone she did not approve of.

Ryo stood there, wet clothes clinging, silent as stone. He looked at Tsunade, digesting it.

Hiruzen had high hopes and wanted to push him toward a bright path.

Danzō coveted him and wanted to drag him into Root.

Danger and opportunity, together.

"So," Ryo said, his voice back to its usual coldness, anger faded, "you came tonight to beat me as thanks and to test my strength. The Hokage asked you to take me as your apprentice. You felt I was 'barely' qualified, so you decided to observe first."

"Your little brain is sharp." Tsunade grinned with a hint of malicious admiration. "Half right. Besides what the old man said, there is Kushina."

She brought up Kushina again, eyes full of meaning. "That little girl treats you… ahem. Anyway, for Kushina's sake, I am giving you more 'testing.' Otherwise, do you think your crude sword and brute strength are worth me running through the Forest of Death at night and getting soaked?"

The corner of Ryo's mouth twitched.

Tsunade did not seem to notice his displeasure. She waved the meat in her hand and jumped topics like a shunshin. "Alright, reasons explained. This meat is my medical fee."

"Medical fee?" Ryo's tone sharpened, his eyes cutting to a piece of pork neck and the best leg meat she was lifting.

His forehead vein twitched.

He jabbed a finger at the creaking door.
"The door's there. I've had enough talk. I still need to train."

Tsunade paused, studying his face, then smirked. "Hahaha. Fine, fine. I'll go."

She knew her "thanks" and "test" logic was… unique.

Goal achieved. Time to leave.

She turned, scooped up the meat, and strode off. Under the moonlight, her back was crisp and neat.

Bang. The wooden door slammed shut with a heavy thud, echoed by the earth wall.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 20: Hiruzen's Plan

 

In the dead of night, the Hokage Office was dimly lit and filled with smoke.

Sarutobi Hiruzen, a pipe clamped between his fingers, was frowning at a scroll when the door groaned under an unbearable force and was kicked open with a clang.

The spark in the pipe jumped in surprise.

Tsunade strode in, bringing with her a strong aroma of meat and the chill of a dewy night.

In her left hand, she held a large, dark brown, glistening pork neck, stained with a few dried leaves. Thick sauce slowly dripped between her fingers. In her right hand, she casually clutched a scroll, its edge still smudged with dark red marks.

The Anbu on duty in the shadows by the door, intimidated by her violence, instinctively tensed as she passed.

"Old man!" Tsunade walked straight to the desk, her voice booming. With a pat, she threw the glistening roasted pork neck onto Hiruzen's document-strewn desk. The savory aroma instantly overpowered the smell of tobacco. "Still up this late?"

Hiruzen's gaze lifted from the well-worn pork to Tsunade's slightly disheveled outfit, its corners stained with grass and wet mud, then to her greasy, possibly blood-stained hands. His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly. "Oh? Coming to see me with such a grand display, what is it? …And this?"

"Ryo. Kamiyama Ryo." Tsunade wiped her mouth, as if still savoring the charred and tender aroma. "I just finished testing that kid." Her tone carried post-battle satisfaction. "Satisfied. Very satisfied. From now on, he is my official first disciple. I came specifically to let you know."

She did not shy away, explaining in a few words how she had a sudden whim to test the mettle of the guy Kushina and Nawaki had been talking about, how she disguised herself as Anbu to ambush him in the Forest of Death, how she used the kid as a punching bag until he broke his limits, and how she was "thanked," only to be conquered by his superb barbecue skills.

Hiruzen listened in silence, his pipe almost slipping from his hand.

He took a deep puff, choked, and his mouth twitched slightly. "Cough. So, you call this an assessment?"

He looked deeply at his disciple, his gaze a mix of empathy for his own teacher's headaches back then and helpless amusement. "Tsunade, your method of thanking someone when taking them as a student is a bit, cough." He gestured at Tsunade with the stem of his pipe. "Unusual."

"What is wrong with unusual? As long as it is effective." Tsunade tossed her golden hair, righteous. "Isn't the effect good? That kid is tough, perfect for grinding down his wildness. Besides," she patted the scroll stained with dark red, "didn't I pull him back into the light for you? To keep him from being coveted by certain roots in the gutters." She hinted at something, then yawned, signaling the end of the topic. "Alright, I've taken him on. That is settled. If there is nothing else, I am leaving."

"Good. I understand." Hiruzen immediately caught the deeper meaning in her words, a sharp light flashing in his eyes. He responded decisively, genuine relief on his face.

His fingers imperceptibly tapped his pipe. Ryo joining the Hokage lineage, becoming his grand-disciple. Kushina and Ryo's bond deepening daily, almost intertwined, and Kushina being the future Kyūbi Jinchūriki…

These three lines instantly braided into a clear, strong rope in his mind, held firmly in the Hokage's hand. A trace of ease and the pleasure of holding the overall situation flashed in his eyes.

Tsunade saw his expression and knew the old man was once again calculating his intricate game.

She said no more, too lazy to bother with the twists and turns, and picked up the pig's trotter on the table that had witnessed her sincerity. "I am off."

She turned like a gust of wind. The office door groaned again, and her golden-haired figure disappeared down the corridor.

Hiruzen watched her leave, and once the door closed, the relief on his face instantly receded, replaced by his usual deep calm.

Smoke once again permeated the air.

An Anbu wearing an animal mask silently knelt before the desk, as if emerging from the shadows.

"Go." The Third's voice was low and authoritative, carrying undeniable power. "Inform Danzō. Tsunade has personally confirmed taking Ryo as her direct disciple, and from today, Ryo is her only direct disciple." He paused, emphasizing his words. "Warn him. Put away any improper thoughts. No one is to scheme against Ryo again. No one."

"Understood, Hokage-sama."

…

Bang. A delicate celadon teacup shattered into pieces in the depths of Ne's secret base.

Danzō's grim face twisted and monstrous like a demon in the flickering candlelight.

He clutched the small scroll just delivered from the Hokage Tower, his knuckles white, a chilling cold and fury seeping from his bones.

"Sa…ru…to…bi… Hi…ru…zen…" A hoarse voice, like sandpaper rubbing dry bone, squeezed out word by word from between his clenched teeth.

Every word on that paper was like a red-hot brand, searing his heart. Tsunade taking a disciple, Ryo becoming part of the Hokage line, the warning…

Every line declared his failure.

The promising talent he had set his eyes on, that sharp blade that could tear through enemies and stain Konoha's foundations in the future, had been snatched away.

Bang. Another furious punch slammed into the hard ebony desk, the dull thud shaking dust from the ceiling.

His eyes seemed to burn, bloodshot and bulging, staring fixedly at the scroll, threads of red crazily crawling across his eyeballs.

This was not just losing a potential new talent. It was a blatant slap and suppression.

The Third Hokage was using the name of Tsunade and her disciple to pin down Danzō and the entire sphere of Root.

"Heh… hehe…" At the peak of rage, he laughed instead, his mouth twisting upward into a strange, chilling arc that could stop a child's crying. "Hiruzen. Tsunade."

The firelight danced on his distorted face. His sinister gaze pierced the shadowed rock walls, fixed in the direction of the Hokage Tower.

"You want it all? Good." His voice was as soft as a snake's hiss, yet it carried a coldness that seeped into every blue brick of the basement. "Just wait and see. Whether it is the Kyūbi Jinchūriki, or that sharp blade. You may hold them for a while, but can you hold them for a lifetime?"

(To be continued.)

...

Support me on P/treon to read up to 100+ advanced chapters on this and 10 other fics of mine

https://p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves

(Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: The Senju Meal Group

Ever since that "life-saving grace," the thread between Kushina and Ryo had become tangled in a way neither could cut loose.

To Kushina, Ryo was no longer fierce, but a peculiar guy whose words never matched his heart.

He let her steal food off his plate, tolerated her endless questions after class, and didn't even chase her away when she dragged along her unreasonable older sister, Tsunade.

And perhaps out of guilt for the chaos she had caused the previous night, Tsunade secretly dropped off bags of rice and bundles of ingredients at Ryo's place, hiding it from Kushina. Whether they truly came from her, or if Mito supplied them and she merely passed them along, no one could say for sure.

Thus, the "Senju Clan Meal Group" officially opened in his rundown little yard. The unspoken arrangement was simple: Tsunade supplied the food, easing the strain on his meager budget, while Ryo handled the cooking.

The golden glow of the setting sun spilled lazily across the yard. Tsunade sprawled on the only somewhat intact bench, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Hey! Ryo! What's for dinner tonight? Roast meat's getting boring. Let's have something else!"

Ryo was busy.

In front of him wasn't just a grill, but the full spread of his "manly kitchen" setup: a newly added stone mortar pounding spices, a wicker basket of smoked meat sending up blue smoke, and a large stew pot bubbling with fragrance.

Kushina sat beside Tsunade, her face flushed, eyes sparkling as they darted between the dishes.

"Ryo! I brought some mushrooms I found in the forest. Can they go in the soup?"

Ryo didn't look up. "Put them there. I'll use what's worth using."

He swiftly flipped a huge wild boar leg, rotating it over the makeshift grill.

The pig leg, pre-marinated with his special spicy sauce, sizzled as flames licked its skin. Fat dripped onto the charcoal with loud cracks, and the smoky aroma mixed with rich meat scent, dominating the entire yard.

On the stone slab nearby, several slices of tenderloin, thin as cicada wings, sprinkled with coarse salt and wild scallions, baked slowly in the residual heat.

"So fragrant!" Tsunade sniffed deeply, her appetite overriding her complaints.

Kushina, like a little gluttonous cat, sniffed the air vigorously, her face glowing.

Ryo deftly lifted the lid of the large iron pot. The boiling milky-white soup, filled with chunks of meat, shiitake mushrooms, and wild vegetables, bubbled. The aroma of scallions and ginger burst out with the steam, joining the olfactory feast.

This was the rich broth he had simmered since the afternoon using bones and scraps, now at its peak.

The yard was filled with the overwhelming scent of home cooking, so fragrant it made one's stomach churn.

Tsunade's appetite was bottomless, her consumption nothing short of outrageous.

But since she was basically sponsoring the food now, Ryo held his tongue. Besides, he still had his own backup stock: dried meat strips, carefully marinated and air-dried, wild spices, dried vegetables, and fungi gathered from the Forest of Death—emergency rations in case her supply ever ran dry.

…

The next evening after school, Ryo, dragging his exhausted body back home, froze at the sight before him.

A small wooden cart was parked at the gate, piled high like a small mountain.

Two whole racks of fresh jungle deer ribs, wrapped in banana leaves, sat exposed.

Beside them was a basket of wild vegetables and mushrooms, fresh enough to drip water.

Several heavy pottery jars were stacked neatly, filled with soy sauce, vinegar, and soybean oil.

And from the cart handle dangled a string of fat, squawking wild chickens.

Kushina strained with all her strength, her face red as she pushed the overloaded cart through the gate. The wheels dug deep grooves into the muddy ground.

"What are you doing?" Ryo strode over and grabbed the cart.

Kushina's eyes lit up as she wiped sweat from her brow. "Ingredients! I bought them! Quick, push it inside. Fresh fish will be delivered soon too. They'll spoil if left outside!" Her tone carried pride.

As Ryo pushed the cart in, he eyed Kushina. Her simple clothes and ordinary look clashed with the pile of expensive ingredients.

"Where did you get the money to buy all this?" he asked, frowning.

"I have money!" Kushina puffed her chest. "Grandma Mito gave me my family's rent from dozens of shops on an entire street…"

An entire street? Ryo raised an eyebrow.

So this red-haired brat trailing him every day was actually a hidden rich girl.

"While I appreciate this, don't do it again." Ryo started moving the ingredients down.

He said this, but his eyes couldn't help sweeping over the deer ribs, their texture gleaming in the sunset. Dozens of cooking methods instantly flashed through his mind.

"But Tsunade-neesan said if we eat your food, we have to pay for it!" Kushina said firmly.

Speak of the devil, Tsunade arrived.

The moment she saw the mountain of ingredients, her eyes shone like stars.

"Oh! A big feast tonight? Kushina, your eye for shopping is amazing! These deer ribs… tsk, roasted they'll burst with juice. Braised with honey oil… hurry up, Ryo, please get started!"

"Kushina, let's pick the ribs with moderate fat, cut them into chunks, rub with salt and honey, roast them to eighty percent! Leave the tender piece, coat it with spicy sauce and pan-fry it slowly!" Tsunade said confidently, clapping Kushina on the shoulder.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 22: Lonely Mito

Ryo got to work, while Kushina, her hands on her cheeks, stared at him. She found it strangely addictive.

She liked watching Ryo focus.

Even though he was always gruff, his movements were sharp and violent, like he was cutting enemies instead of ingredients. Yet the food that landed on the table was always terrifyingly generous in portion, and so delicious it made one want to swallow their tongue.

She could feel that, beneath Ryo's hard shell, he wasn't rejecting her presence anymore. That warmed her heart.

Thus, a bizarre yet highly efficient "iron triangle" formed:

Tsunade – Responsible for fighting. Under the excuse of "training," her main goal was to burn through Ryo's stamina.

Kushina – Responsible for buying. With the Uzumaki clan's little rich girl "money power," she bought top-quality ingredients that Tsunade ordered (and that she herself wanted to eat). She often slipped in spices, wild honey, and other novelties.

Ryo – Responsible for cooking.

His cooking moved as smooth as flowing water. A giant bone stick rotated, dripping oil on the grill. A whole chicken, coated in batter, was shoved into a mud oven. Deer chops sizzled on the stone slab. A pot of milky-white soup boiled heavily beside it.

The richness of the stew, the char of the grill, the subtle fragrance of the pan-fried, the sealed mystery inside the oven, even the smoky aroma from the curing rack in the corner… together, they filled the entire broken-down courtyard with an intoxicating scent.

With high-quality ingredients and Kushina's "experiments" added in, Ryo's cooking skills were thoroughly activated.

The once-empty baskets filled up with grilled skewers, dried jerky, and smoked wild game of different flavors.

The curing rack dripped with half-finished products, fragrant with pine and fruit wood.

He even started trying new tricks, using Kushina's wild honey with coarse salt to make honey-glazed jerky, or pounding spicy wild fruits into sauces to brush over skewers. Mushrooms and wild greens were tested in stews.

Occasionally, when Kushina cried from a new spicy sauce, gulping water yet still taking another bite, a flicker of amusement crossed his eyes before vanishing. Even he didn't notice it.

Day by day, the courtyard clattered with pots and pans, full of bustle and noise.

But the busier this courtyard grew, the more neglected the Senju mansion felt.

---

Inside the old Senju residence, the golden glow of the setting sun fell on the long dining table, lined with several warm, untouched dishes.

Uzumaki Mito gazed at the empty seats. Only Nawaki was there, shoveling rice silently, eating fast like it would save him from small talk with his grandmother.

Mito sighed gracefully, her voice light, tinged with just the right amount of melancholy.
"Nawaki…"

Nawaki choked, looked up nervously, and swallowed his rice.
"G-Grandma?"

"These days," Mito's eyes drifted over the two empty spots that belonged to Tsunade and Kushina, her tone soft and slow, "don't you think… it's a little too quiet?"

Nawaki stiffened. He glanced at the seats, then nodded blankly. "Y-yeah. Sister and Kushina haven't been coming back to eat." He thought his grandmother was simply stating a fact.

"Yes." Mito's voice softened further, like a drifting feather. "Before, your sister was always out. Now she has a new place. And that child, Kushina… it is a good thing to have a close friend. But…" She paused, her eyes fixed gently on Nawaki's face, "this large mansion, at dinner, leaves only an old woman and a boy silently facing each other. My heart feels empty and unsettled. The quiet is almost unnerving."

Nawaki's scalp tingled.

Mito spoke with such genuine emotion. But what could he do? A half-grown boy talking history with his legendary grandmother to ease her loneliness?

He grinned sheepishly, buried his head, and focused on shoveling rice, as if hiding inside the bowl.

Mito sipped her tea with perfect composure.

---

A few evenings later, Ryo's courtyard was at its busiest.

Tsunade licked the last of the honey glaze off a rib, wiped her oily hands on her clothes, and leaned back in satisfaction.

Ryo crouched nearby, tossing greasy skewers stripped of meat into a water bucket.

Kushina hummed off-key while sweeping up banana leaves into a basket.

The heavy aroma of meat, charcoal, and spice lingered stubbornly.

Then, a figure appeared at the gate, framed by the twilight.

Uzumaki Mito, dressed in a simple kimono, stood silently, her eternal gentle smile fixed on the lively courtyard.

Kushina froze. "Grandma Mito? Why are you here?"

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, a flicker of guilt flashing through her eyes.

Ryo stopped scrubbing and let the water drip from his hands. His muscles tensed instinctively, remembering the pressure he once felt at the Senju residence gate.

He never underestimated this widow of the God of Shinobi, this legend of Uzumaki.

"Grandma," Tsunade muttered, guilty as if caught sneaking out.

Mito ignored her. Her eyes fell on the oil-stained corner of Kushina's clothes.
"Kushina," her voice carried a soft sigh, "these days, at Grandma's house, it's just Nawaki eating with me. So quiet."

The loneliness in her tone made Kushina's chest tighten.

"Ah, too quiet." Then her gaze moved, falling on the red-haired boy in the corner. His face was cold, expression locked, water dripping from his hands. Her eyes softened, but the authority in her voice allowed no refusal.

"So, Kushina," Mito said gently, "next time, bring your friend Ryo-kun. Come home for dinner together, won't you?"

Ryo's eyes narrowed. "Huh?"

Kushina's eyes lit up in surprise.

Bring Ryo to Grandma's house? For dinner?

That was a huge step.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 23: The Red Pair

Ryo understood that Uzumaki Mito's invitation was a gesture of courtesy and grace from the matriarch of the Senju clan, the widow of the God of Shinobi.

Being invited once was giving face, and that was enough, a return of courtesy.

Going again?

That was just politeness.

If he actually took it seriously, that would mean taking advantage of their kindness, being impolite, and not knowing his place.

Ryo was extremely sensitive to boundaries.

He couldn't stand the feeling of being constrained, pulled by invisible ropes into that deep mansion, and even less could he stand the torment of being scrutinized by Uzumaki Mito's seemingly gentle yet all-seeing gaze at the dinner table.

So, he only went once, strictly adhering to the standards of a distinguished guest, acting as a chef, preparing dishes with the efficiency of someone on a mission.

Mito smiled, Tsunade watched the show, Kushina was excited and a little shy, and Nawaki buried himself in his food, trying to be invisible.

After the meal, having thanked them for the hospitality then left before the atmosphere got more awkward.

Tsunade and Kushina were sensible enough.

Mito was indeed old, and no one knew how much longer she would be with them.

Blood ties and family affection took precedence.

So, in the following days, the two girls obediently went back to the Senju residence for dinner every night, chatting with the old lady. It was mainly Kushina chattering, Nawaki grunting, and Tsunade occasionally cracking jokes, trying to spend as much time as possible with Mito in her final days.

Ryo's small courtyard finally returned to its original state for a short while.

The evening's cooking smoke belonged only to him.

The flames on the stove licked the bottom of the pot, the simmering bone broth gurgled monotonously, and the spice jars stood quietly in a row.

Only the faint sounds of Konoha's myriad lights and voices from beyond the wall made the courtyard seem even emptier.

…

Time flowed like water, and two years passed in a flash.

One afternoon in Konoha.

The scorching sun beat down on the Ninja Academy's training ground.

The bell for class dismissal had just rung, and Kushina's fiery red hair rushed out like a whirlwind, her target clear—the indifferent figure leaning against a tree with crossed arms on the training ground.

"Hey! Ryo! What are we eating today?" Kushina asked, her sweaty little face turned up, her eyes sparkling brightly, not at all polite.

Ryo slapped a huge bento box, tightly wrapped in large leaves, into her hands. It was heavy. "Here's your portion."

Kushina skillfully took the box, and quickly untied the sturdy grass rope.

As the layers of leaves were peeled back, a rich and complex aroma instantly exploded, oily roasted whole chicken legs, fragrant skewers, thick-cut deer chops sizzling and still dripping oil, glistening rice balls, fresh pickled vegetables and wild fruits. There was such a variety and quantity that it was enough to stuff three of her to death.

This was not a bento, but clearly a mobile barbecue stall.

Students passing by all turned their heads, gasps and gulps of saliva rising and falling.

They had long since become numb to this over the past two years.

The combination of Ryo the Red Devil and Kushina the Red-Hot Habanero, one a walking tyrannosaurus and chef, the other a mobile glutton and human accessory, had long become a scenic highlight of the Ninja Academy.

Kushina plopped down on a tree root, her cheeks stuffed full, gnawing on a chicken leg as she mumbled, "Are you… munch… taking me home this afternoon?"

"Yeah, whenever you're ready." Ryo was concise; his gaze sweeping over a few restless kids in the distance.

His icy stare made those people immediately shrink their necks and scurry away.

At dismissal time.

The setting sun stretched shadows long.

Most of the crowd at the Ninja Academy gate had dispersed, and Ryo appeared there punctually.

Kushina skipped out, accompanied by a few cautious female classmates.

One of them, a girl wearing the Uchiha clan crest, was even holding hands with Kushina.

"I'm leaving!" Seeing Ryo, Kushina waved goodbye to her classmates and trotted closer to him.

"Hm." Ryo turned and walked, his pace neither fast nor slow, ensuring Kushina didn't have to run to keep up. Silence along the way was normal.

He had walked this path for two years; he could draw it with his eyes closed.

But each time, it was as tense as the first.

Latent strength was coiled in his muscles, ready to strike.

His hand hung seemingly casually at his side, just an inch from the chipped and worn katana at his waist.

He remembered the original plot where Kushina was abducted.

That possibility had jabbed at him like a cold thorn for two years.

As Uzumaki Mito aged, the covetousness brought by the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki label would only increase.

Enemies might be lurking in the shadows, perhaps plotting.

What if… it was today? On this very path?

Ryo would not allow such a "what if" to happen.

So every evening after school, Ryo would escort Kushina back to the old Senju residence.

Day after day, the escort had become instinct, and also a common sight for the residents of Konoha: the silent red-haired boy and the chattering red-haired girl.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 24: Echoes of War

One of the changes in Ryo's daily life could be "credited" to the generosity of that troublesome woman, Tsunade… or perhaps it was just her own strange way of showing care.

Two years ago, one evening when Tsunade had "sparred" him into lying on the ground, gasping for breath.

Ryo was drenched, like a broken sack, leaning against the wall, so tired his eyelids were fighting to stay open.

Tsunade squatted in front of him and tossed him a scroll. "Here, take this."

Ryo's eyes, full of exhaustion, glanced over it.

What is this?

"B-rank ninjutsu, Shadow Clone Jutsu," Tsunade said, her lips curled in a teasing smirk.

"You need proper sleep. You're like an owl, active at night and sleeping in the day. Be careful you don't stunt your growth. Tsk, if you end up shorter than Kushina, how will your pride take it? I'm looking out for you." She even deliberately eyed Ryo's slender frame.

"Thanks?" He dryly squeezed out.

"No need to thank me, just remember my 'kindness'!" Tsunade clapped her hands and stood up. "From now on, use clones for training during the day, and your main body should properly attend… Ugh, never mind, do what you want, the ninja academy can't teach you much anyway. It'll save you from looking like you're constantly overindulging."

She finished speaking and swaggered off, leaving Ryo holding the scroll, his eyes switching between limpness and anger with a complex expression.

With the Shadow Clone Jutsu, Ryo's life was completely optimized and segmented.

In the morning, his main body rigorously trained in Shanks's heritage, forging his physique to its limit, then split off the first tangible clone to go to school and complete classes (sleep) for the main body.

During lunch and after school in the afternoon, his main body would have lunch with Kushina and provide a full escort service after school.

What did the main body do in the afternoon?

Skipping class?

The word "skipping class" was too gentle.

He disdained those ninja academy classes.

The main body spent most of its time diving into the more dangerous areas deep within the Forest of Death, conducting more extreme, more insane real combat training alone.

Challenging stronger beasts, honing his increasingly integrated taijutsu and kenjutsu, and engraving Shanks's combat experience into his very bones.

Occasionally, Tsunade would suddenly appear, and without a word, use her terrifying Monster Strength Fist to spar (beat) him, calling it "practical training."

As for the evening?

His main body returned to the small courtyard, processed game, prepared food, replenished his losses, and researched new recipes.

Sleep was still compressed, but at least his routine was a bit more regular.

Kushina occasionally skipped class too.

She used a shadow clone to go to school and deal with roll call, while her main body secretly sneaked to where Ryo might be training.

Sometimes she made a mess in his courtyard, nitpicking his food preparation. Other times she waited at the Forest of Death's edge during his training breaks, sticking to him like a tail

"Following me won't teach you ninjutsu!" Ryo wrung out his drenched training uniform, splattering her face with sweat.

Kushina deftly dodged, making a face.

"I don't want to learn ninjutsu! I'm afraid you'll be carried off by a bear if you're alone! And…" She sniffed, her eyes curving like a fox. "Did you use wild honey to make a new sauce today? I smell it!" Her radar for Ryo's kitchen smells was practically maxed out.

"Go back to school. If Mito-sama catches you, am I supposed to take the blame for you?

Kushina shrank her neck. Mito didn't let her skip class, hoping she'd make more friends at the ninja academy.

But she couldn't help herself, drawn by the thrill of these "secret missions."

Watching Ryo's focused profile as he processed ingredients, or his silent figure sitting on the ground at the forest's edge, gnawing on dried meat, she found it much more interesting than being in class.

She liked this feeling.

…

And so, time quietly slipped by for two years amidst the sizzling sound of roasting meat, fat dripping, and the dull thuds of punches connecting during training.

Ryo and Kushina were promoted to the fifth grade.

They had both grown taller. Ryo's frame was sturdier, his brows sharper, carrying a deepening heroic aura.

Kushina had also shot up, her red hair more dazzling, and her features had matured a bit. Except when facing Ryo, her subtle "Red Hot Habanero" spirit at school had become even stronger.

The last year of the ninja academy was uneventful.

In a few more months, they would finish their school life and officially become ninjas.

During these two years, when Tsunade didn't have missions, she came more frequently for free meals under the guise of "inspecting training results" and "caring for her disciple's nutrition." Even when Mito was still in good health, she would send people with expensive ingredients, a roundabout way of supporting and thanking Ryo for his cooking skills.

Now Ryo's movements in preparing ingredients became even more refined, and he developed many new flavors using these high-quality goods.

The wicker baskets and smokehouses were always full, with enough provisions compared to his previous broke self.

…

Change quietly arrived one evening.

Ryo's main body had just emerged from the depths of the Forest of Death, carrying a huge wild deer, and passed by the familiar street of barbecue stalls on the outskirts of the village.

Dusk was settling, usually a bustling time when diners gathered. But today, the atmosphere was a bit unusual.

Several chunin who usually loved to boast were gathered in front of the barbecue stall, and the owner had lost his cheerful demeanor, wearing a look of worry.

"…It really started? So fast?" one chunin's voice was a bit low, tinged with unease.

"How could it be fake?" another tall, thin man took a big gulp of cheap sake. "News from the front lines, that 'demigod' Hanzo the Salamander from the Land of Rain has gone mad! He announced the closure of the Land of Rain's borders, clearing out all active ninja forces and intelligence personnel from Konoha, Suna, and Iwa inside! He's being very forceful!"

The barbecue owner sighed while wiping a greasy table. "Sigh, the merchant caravans on the border are cut off, good meat is getting harder to find, and prices are soaring…"

"Not just clearing them out!" The tall, thin man slammed his sake bowl down. "That bastard even declared war simultaneously on Konoha, Suna, and Iwa! He's incredibly arrogant!"

The heavy corpse of the wild deer crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Ryo's eyes narrowed slightly, his cold gray pupils looking towards the Hokage Tower in the center of the village.

Hanzo the Salamander… the Second Great Ninja War?

(To be continued.)

Chapter 25: Democracy, Dictators

The signs of Ame launching a war against the outside world became increasingly obvious, and Konoha continuously dispatched ninja into the Land of Rain to gather intelligence.

As this went on, the friction between the two sides grew larger and larger.

They even started to get angry.

"Ame is showing off. Hanzō's goal is to warn Konoha."

"According to intelligence gathered by the Anbu, Root, and spies, Ame, under Hanzō's leadership, is no longer weaker than our Five Great Shinobi Villages. Once war breaks out, the Land of Fire will definitely be the first to suffer the baptism of war."

"So I suggest that we nip the danger in the bud and absolutely not allow Ame to grow stronger and declare war on Konoha."

Danzō slammed the table, roaring:

"Hanzō sending people to encircle and annihilate Konoha's ninja is a warning to Konoha. Hiruzen, at a time like this, are you still hoping Hanzō will calmly sit down and negotiate with you?"

Konoha's intelligence gathering on Ame was endless, and this action seemed to anger Hanzō, the leader of Ame.

Under Hanzō's command, Ame ninja began to encircle and annihilate Konoha's people.

They even ignored Konoha's requests for negotiation.

Were they really going to start a war?

And Konoha would be the one to actively initiate the war.

This was not the result Hiruzen wanted, but circumstances forced his hand.

Last year, the Land of Rain only appeared somewhat aggressive, seemingly wanting to make a move on the Land of Grass.

And as an ally of Konoha, Konoha naturally couldn't stand by and do nothing.

When Anbu and Root ninja entered the Land of Rain, coupled with intelligence transmitted by spies, it all undoubtedly told Hiruzen one fact.

That was, Hanzō wasn't interested in the Land of Grass. What he valued was the Land of Fire.

If your Ame wants to touch the Land of Grass, my Konoha won't allow it, let alone if you, Hanzō, want to target the Land of Fire.

Do you really think you're one of the Five Great Nations' shinobi villages?

This was also why Danzō was so furious.

Hanzō was looking down on them.

Negotiation requests were ignored.

"Once Konoha declares war on Ame, the flames of war will inevitably sweep across the entire ninja world. Have you all considered these consequences?"

Danzō believed Konoha should strike first and not let the war burn onto the Land of Fire's territory.

Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado, on the other hand, felt Danzō's words were reasonable. If Hanzō refused to recognize reality, then Konoha would simply have to remind him of his place.

Even if Konoha was willing to maintain peace through negotiation, Ame was not, and Hanzō simply ignored them.

"Does Konoha not declaring war on the Land of Rain mean that the flames of war won't spread to other countries?"

Danzō sneered, looking at Hiruzen and saying:

"Hiruzen, don't forget that since the First Great Ninja War, the strength of all the shinobi villages has recovered. It's not just Ame that shows signs of launching a war. Other shinobi villages are the same."

"If Konoha does nothing, we will only be passively beaten."

"Do you choose to strike first, or do you only retaliate after being hit?"

Hiruzen frowned.

He hadn't made up his mind yet.

Because once war broke out, the situation could spiral out of Konoha's control at any moment.

As the helmsman of Konoha, he didn't want to see such a situation arise.

One wanted to fight, the other wanted to negotiate.

Hiruzen and Danzō were at an impasse.

Finally, Koharu Utatane, a member of the Elder Council, put forward her opinion.

"Hiruzen, even if Konoha doesn't actively declare war on Ame, we still need to guard against Ame's movements. The flames of war absolutely cannot burn into the Land of Fire."

"Therefore, I suggest dispatching troops to be stationed at the border to prevent Ame from launching a surprise attack into the Land of Fire."

"I agree."

Homura Mitokado cast his vote for Koharu Utatane.

If they didn't want to rashly start a war, then they should dispatch ninja troops to be stationed at the border to prevent Ame from disregarding etiquette and suddenly attacking the Land of Fire.

"Hmph!"

This was clearly not the result Danzō wanted. He wanted to directly launch a war, not just be on guard.

Unfortunately, Hiruzen disagreed with launching a war, and Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado, who were originally on his side, changed their stance, which made Danzō very displeased.

Lighting his pipe, Hiruzen took a few deep puffs, and after careful consideration, he finally made a choice.

"If that's the case, then issue a conscription and dispatch troops to be stationed at the border."

Sending a large ninja army to be stationed at the border was also a form of invisible provocation and defense, but provocation was better than outright declaring war.

As the order was issued from the Hokage's office.

The announcement quickly spread throughout Konoha.

Conscripting ninja to be stationed on the front lines. Was this going to be war?

For a time, the entire Konoha was filled with the atmosphere of war.

The Second Great Ninja War was coming.

Ame's strength at this time was truly formidable, coupled with the infinitely inflated demigod Hanzō.

With even the slightest disturbance, a war between Konoha and Ame was bound to break out.

Konoha's movements would also attract the attention of other shinobi villages, and the major shinobi villages that had been recuperating for many years would not miss this opportunity for external expansion.

In many people's eyes, the Land of Fire was always the one that got hit, then passively retaliated.

Little did they know, the party that actively initiated the Second Great Ninja War was Konoha.

The atmosphere of war grew heavier, and everyone in the village was constantly discussing matters of war.

As Konoha's ninja forces were stationed at the border, the Land of Rain's reaction was even more intense than Konoha's. A similar large ninja army was stationed at their border, creating a confrontational feeling with Konoha.

Furthermore, Ame was vigorously encircling and annihilating Konoha ninja who had entered the Land of Rain.

Besides Konoha ninja, ninja from the Land of Wind and the Land of Earth were also included.

Hanzō seemed to want to forge the Land of Rain into an impenetrable fortress, strictly prohibiting ninja from other countries from entering the Land of Rain.

This was a groundbreaking first for the Five Great Shinobi Villages.

The high and mighty Five Great Shinobi Villages felt provoked, provoked by a minor shinobi village.

Now, not only did Konoha have issues with Ame, but even Suna and Iwa began to feel displeased with Ame.

In the Land of Wind, the Kazekage's office in Suna.

The Third Kazekage, hailed as the strongest Kazekage, felt this was an excellent opportunity.

"I think this is an opportunity for our Suna to break out of our predicament. We should help Konoha."

"Kazekage-sama means to actively provoke war?"

Chiyo, who held great power in the village, and her brother Ebizō, also attended the meeting.

The Land of Wind was poor, and next to it was the rich Land of Fire.

As the leader of Suna, the Third Kazekage dreamed of taking a piece of fatty meat from the Land of Fire.

"Yes, provoke a war, but not a war between Suna and Ame, but a war between Konoha and Ame."

Since neither of you is moving, just staring at each other, then my Suna will give you a push.

Help you ignite the flames of war.

Chiyo understood the Third Kazekage's meaning, so she stood up and said:

"If that's the case, then I'll handle this matter."

At this time, both Konoha and Ame were on edge. It wouldn't be difficult to ignite the flames of war.

"Then this matter is entrusted to Chiyo."

The Third Kazekage nodded, agreeing to Chiyo's request.

Konoha and Ame could afford to wait, but Suna couldn't. Suna urgently needed to launch a war to plunder resources from other countries to strengthen itself.

The Daimyo had protested more than once about the excessively high annual allocation of funds to Suna.

With not many sources of income, yet supporting a considerable number of ninja, Suna would eventually be unable to sustain itself.

The Third Kazekage was very clear that the village was out of money.

The Daimyo couldn't continue to allocate funds, unless war broke out, at which point, to maintain his rule, the Daimyo would have to provide money to the village.

Under Chiyo's leadership, some Sand ninja followed her into the Land of Rain.

The stalemate continued. Neither Ame nor Konoha fired the first shot.

What no one expected was that during this sensitive period, a group of ninja wearing Konoha headbands attacked villages and committed arson and murder in various places within the Land of Rain.

"Konoha!!"

When the Anbu delivered the collected intelligence to Hanzō, it directly ignited the rage in his heart.

Ever since Ame's military strength began to develop, Konoha ninja were always gathering intelligence within the Land of Rain, and Hanzō had encircled and annihilated them batch after batch.

Then Konoha submitted a negotiation request, which Hanzō directly ignored.

You send people to cause trouble on my territory, and then you want to negotiate with me?

What kind of logic is that? Should a small shinobi village be bullied by Konoha and then not be able to fight back after being bullied?

So Hanzō decisively ignored Konoha's negotiation request and continued to encircle and annihilate Konoha's ninja.

After being encircled, Konoha actually dispatched a large army to be stationed at the border. What did this mean?

A provocation to my Ame, or a provocation to me, Hanzō?

Konoha's various actions were all sending one message: I am going to declare war on your Ame.

During the standoff between the two armies, Konoha ninja infiltrated the Land of Rain and attacked its villages, directly snapping Hanzō's already taut nerves.

Ame declared war on Konoha.

The news instantly spread throughout the ninja world, astonishing people in all countries.

Since the establishment of the Five Great Shinobi Villages, this was the first time one had been declared war upon by a small shinobi village, and the one declared war upon was Konoha, known as the strongest of the Five Great Shinobi Villages.

In response to Ame's declaration of war, Konoha also chose to respond.

Konoha declared war on Ame, dispatching Danzō as the frontline commander-in-chief to attack Ame, with Tsunade, Jiraiya, and Orochimaru all among the army.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 26: Property Damage No Jutsu

In the depths of the Forest of Death, moonlight filtered through shredded leaves, scattering like silver dust across the ground.

Two figures collided in the messy clearing, separated, and collided again. Each contact erupted with visible airwaves.

Ryo slowly raised his head, gripping the sharp long blade in his hand. His body slightly heaved, his intense aura yet to calm.

In his mind, [Shanks' Legacy unlocked to: 60%!][Shanks' Legacy Fusion: 50.3%!]

[Detected host fighting under extreme high pressure, Shanks' Legacy Fusion increased by: 0.2%]

[Shanks' Legacy Fusion increased to: 50.6%!]

[Strength evaluation: Elite Jōnin]

After two years of Ryo's desperate efforts and Tsunade's beatings, his strength had broken through to the Elite Jōnin stage.

Not far in front of him, Tsunade's hands hung by her sides, knuckles white from clenching.

Sweat traced shining paths down her cheeks and neck, revealing, along with her slightly hurried breathing, the true marks left by the battle.

She looked at the young man before her, at the ugly forest scar carved out by his long blade, her heart filled with a churning sense of absurdity.

The shocking mess before her clearly showed the young man's growth over the past two years.

From the very beginning, when this kid was sent flying by her punch, crashing into a tree trunk and unable to get up, to today… this landscape of messy wooden stakes, as if dozens of A-rank Fūton: Kazekiri no Jutsu (Wind Release: Wind Cutter Technique) had been unleashed.

The kid who could barely take a casual punch from her two years ago, now his sword's reach could force her, an Elite Jōnin, to retreat repeatedly?

Tsunade vigorously shook her head, dispelling the lingering dizziness. Her throat was dry, and her voice was a little hoarse: "Let me catch my breath? You little monster!"

Soon, she took a step closer, her toes grinding into the damp soil, knuckles cracking. An invisible pressure instantly spread. "Again!"

As her words fell, the air tore!

Chila—!

Responding to her was a dazzling, crimson arc of light, condensed as if solid, tearing through the air close to the ground without warning, aiming straight for Tsunade's legs!

Its speed was so fast that it only left a burning trail on the retina, arriving in an instant!

The surrounding flying wood chips were caught by the strong wind, suddenly pulling out fine, hissing straight lines.

"Tch!" Tsunade let out a short, dissatisfied sound from her nostrils, her eyes suddenly sharp.

Her forward momentum was forcefully interrupted. Chakra instantly erupted violently from her feet, and she, like a top struck hard, violently twisted her waist on the spot, performing an extreme dodge!

Boom!

The crimson arc of light brushed past her rolled-up clothes, fiercely crashing into the dense forest barrier of ancient trees behind her.

Dull, thunderous shattering sounds exploded in a series.

There was no stalemate, no resistance. Trees as thick as bowls were neatly severed the moment they were touched, the sound of wood fibers bursting like the wails of dying beasts.

Dozens of giant trees simultaneously let out an ear-piercing groan, their canopies tilting, interlocking as they fell, crashing, raising a sky full of murky dust and a wild storm of branches and leaves.

Tsunade didn't even have time to change her surprised expression before her vision was obscured by the overwhelming, rolling dust.

"Too slow!" A sharp shout, however, ghost-like, closed in within an inch behind her!

The young man's clear voice, filled with boiling battle intent, came coldly from behind her neck!

Too fast, there was no time to think!

A chilling sensation ran up Tsunade's spine—that was the battle instinct honed through countless near-death experiences!

Her entire body's muscles instantly tensed like iron. Without thinking, the surging chakra within her body suddenly reversed, like an erupting tsunami, forcefully pouring into her feet!

Chakra violently erupted!

The ground violently caved in, mud and gravel shooting into the sky!

Using this brute-force recoil, her body, instead of advancing, retreated, turning into a blurry afterimage against common sense, using the weight and momentum of her entire body to savagely crash towards the source of the sound behind her! Using her back as a weapon, she bravely counter-attacked!

Bang—!

A dull, heart-stopping collision sound exploded!

Ryo's backhand strike with the flat of his blade, seemingly carrying a thousand catties of force, landed squarely on Tsunade's hard, chakra-reinforced back.

A visible ring of airwaves violently burst from the two of them as the core, fiercely tearing through the sky full of dust that had not yet settled. Power violently clashed in an instant, forming a brief stalemate.

In this struggle lasting less than a thousandth of a second.

Buzz—!

A second crimson slash had silently condensed and detached from Ryo's blade!

Its angle was as cunning as a venomous snake's bite, piercing through the chaotic, swirling air between them. It was no longer a massive arc of light, but condensed into a finer, even faster and more terrifying, sharp arrow, rapidly spinning out close to Ryo's own blade!

Its target was Tsunade's completely exposed and undefended waist and abdomen, revealed by her counter-attack!

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in the solidified collision. Even the wood chips and dust floating in the air paused for a moment.

Tsunade's nerves were suddenly tightened by this insidious change in technique!

There was no time to think!

Her battle instincts, honed through countless trials, forcibly took over her body!

She forcefully twisted her center of gravity mid-counter-attack, chakra brutally pouring into her left arm. The arm instantly became unnaturally twisted and swollen!

All subsequent moves, all techniques, were forced to be completely abandoned by this vicious, insidious, and unannounced attack!

She could only take it head-on!

The thick arm, wrapped in visibly dense chakra, carrying the domineering momentum of crushing rocks and mountains, hastily yet resolutely slammed towards the fatal crimson arrow-like trajectory in front of her waist and abdomen!

Boom—!!!

The moment the arm met the slash, it wasn't a simple blocking sound, but a violent clash of airflow and a chakra energy detonation!

Dazzling light briefly swallowed the outlines of the two figures!

The sharp sound of metal cutting mixed with the explosion of energy, stinging the eardrums.

The condensed crimson slash, like an invisible beast crashing into a thick steel barrier, suddenly shattered and exploded!

It transformed into countless tiny, swirling red streams of light, scattering in all directions, cutting thousands of crisscrossing deep marks into the ground.

Tsunade let out a muffled groan. The powerful impact made her lose her footing, and she stumbled back two steps sideways before barely steadying herself.

A large section of her left arm's sleeve was torn away by the violent energy. Several thin lines of blood were cut into the outside of her forearm by the residual sword intent, and a subtle burning sensation spread.

She lowered her head to glance at the blood marks on her arm, then looked up at the figure standing as steady as a rock opposite her. Her gaze was as complex as if she were looking at a monster in human skin.

"Hey!" Ryo casually rested his blade on his shoulder, slightly raising his chin. Beads of sweat dripped along his slightly youthful jaw, but his eyes were astonishingly bright, and the corner of his mouth unconsciously curved into a youthful, spirited smile.

"Still standing? Pretty tough, aren't you, you crazy old hag!" The provocation in his eyes was so direct it was almost arrogant, burning like fire.

"You...." Tsunade shook her stinging arm, suppressing the surging emotions in her heart. The usual ferocity returned to her face, her voice rough from the battle.

"Got your wings, huh? Think you can fly just because you can cut one? Forgot how I used to beat you senseless?" She stomped her foot violently, her body shooting forward like an exploding cannonball! The ground cracked inch by inch beneath her feet!

No more probing, no more holding back!

Chakra, like boiling lava, wildly coiled, compressed around her clenched fist, forming a heart-stopping, almost solid milky-white aura!

The air in front of that fist was brutally squeezed, letting out an unbearable shriek!

Just the stance of accumulating power and rushing forward, the wild and unparalleled oppressive force, like a tangible heavy mountain, slammed towards Ryo!

"Ha!" Ryo let out a sharp laugh, advancing instead of retreating!

The blade brought forth a dazzling waterfall of cold light, slashing straight down!

It wasn't a subtle technical confrontation in swordsmanship, but the most primitive and violent direct clash between pure power and sharp edge!

(To be continued.)

Chapter 27: Attempted Murder

Clang!

Buzz buzz buzz—

The blade collided with the fist wrapped in thick chakra, and the sharp sound rang out like clashing steel.

A dull hum followed, carrying a violent shockwave. A visible ring of force expanded outward once again.

The soil beneath their feet instantly sank and turned into powder.

Ryo's slash was like striking a solid wall. After a brief pause, a huge recoil surged back fiercely along the blade and into his arm.

Deng deng deng!

Ryo felt his chest churn with blood and his palms go numb. He was forced back three steps by that unstoppable force before barely steadying himself. Each step left a deep footprint in the wet mud.

"Ha!" Tsunade sneered smugly, not pausing for even a heartbeat. Her body spun into a high-speed blur, fists hammering like a storm of giant steel hammers.

Each strike, wrapped in violent chakra, smashed forward with force that could split mountains and crack stone. The fists blurred together, shadows merging into one, the violent wind pressure sending leaves and wood chips flying into a brutal force field that rained down toward Ryo.

"Come on!" There wasn't a trace of retreat in Ryo's eyes. Instead, a ferocious light flared.

His muscles tensed, blue veins bulging under his skin.

The long blade in his hand became an extension of his body, moving and parrying within the narrow space with incredible fluidity.

The heavy weapon felt as light as a feather. Sometimes it stabbed into the tiniest gaps in Tsunade's barrage like a snake flicking its tongue. Other times it diverted power like a sail catching the wind, redirecting momentum aside. The sword light flowed down like mercury, forming a cold, shimmering barrier.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The collisions rang out densely, enough to make one's teeth ache.

Every strike against Tsunade's chakra-coated fists sent dazzling sparks flying.

Inside the storm of fists, Ryo looked like a small boat tossed in giant waves, rocking and blocking, but somehow still afloat. His footwork was unnervingly efficient and precise, every step landing at an odd angle that let him stay upright at the edge of the vortex.

Then, a sharp, bowl-sized piece of wood was whipped into the air by the violent currents. Caught by the aftershock of Tsunade's punch, it spun like a crossbow bolt and shot silently toward the exposed gap behind Ryo's right shoulder.

Puff.

The wooden shard pierced into the outside of his shoulder. Blood spread instantly across his rough shirt, the stain dark and expanding.

Ryo's body only gave a slight tremor. His expression didn't even flicker.

The sword light in his hand didn't falter. Taking advantage of the imbalance caused by the impact, he twisted his waist, the strain on the wound shifting his weight just enough. A condensed blood-red sword aura snapped out like a venomous snake, silent yet lightning fast.

It cut under the arc of Tsunade's heavy right fist as it finished its swing.

"Tsk!" Tsunade's pupils shrank. Forced to pause, she felt a chill and a sharp sting along her forearm. New blood mixed with old, staining her arm almost completely red.

She glanced at Ryo's bleeding shoulder, at how unaffected he seemed, and the absurdity in her chest surged again.

Damn it, what kind of body is this?

Anyone else stabbed like that would be howling and dropping their weapon. But this brat didn't even twitch, as if neither the wood nor the blood belonged to him.

The relentless attacks and flawless defense were draining Ryo's stamina fast.

Sweat streamed from his clenched jaw, dripping into the mud beneath his feet.

Each breath seared his lungs.

His muscles grew sore and stiff after endless rapid pivots and bursts of strength, like fine lead sand was filling his joints.

"Not good enough!" Tsunade caught the faint urgency in his breathing, the split-second delay in his movements.

She inhaled deeply, chakra in her body surging like a flood. Her presence spiked sharply.

The milky-white chakra wrapping her fists turned blinding, like two burning miniature suns. The explosive roar of her punches became so sharp it stabbed the eardrums.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three consecutive detonations like war drums shook the clearing.

Each clash with Ryo's blade sent out shockwaves and showers of sparks.

But his steps were growing heavier. Each retreat carried him back farther than the last. The veins on his sword arm bulged as if resisting a battering ram.

The fourth punch came, heavier still. The blade finally groaned under the pressure.

Ryo's body lost its balance, blasted away like a stone from a catapult.

Boom!

An ancient tree, thick enough for three people to encircle, took the impact. Its bark burst apart, spiderweb cracks spreading across the trunk. Ryo slammed hard against it, then slid down to the ground.

Dust filled the air.

He dropped to one knee, clutching his chest with his left hand, gasping for breath.

Sweat dripped like rain, mixing with blood from his shoulder, pooling dark in the mud.

Strength poured out of him like floodwater. That last blow had nearly wrung the last of his reserves dry.

His sword stuck deep in the dirt beside him, the handle trembling and humming.

Tsunade stood firm, the light fading from her fists.

She was panting, sweat beading her temples, but her aura didn't waver.

Her sharp gaze pinned the boy, rough voice biting through the heavy air. "Hmph. Tough brat. But you think this little bit of strength is enough to topple a veteran?"

She flexed her bloodied wrist and strode closer. "For all your stamina, it's still not enough. You need more training."

Ryo lifted his head. No surrender burned in his eyes—only fire.

He planted a hand on the ground, pushing himself to stand.

But his legs felt filled with molten lead, twitching painfully. A sudden burn shot through his muscles.

He stumbled, one knee nearly giving way.

His breath came faster, vision blurred by sweat.

Tsunade's shadow loomed over him.

Watching his stubborn refusal to give in, even at his limit, something flickered across her gaze—complex and fleeting.

Two years.

From a boy who couldn't even take a punch, to someone who forced her into this state…

She crouched, her broad hand slapping his sweaty shoulder, avoiding the bleeding wound.

His skin burned with heat, muscles taut with stubborn vitality.

"You little brat." Her voice was still rough and commanding, but there was something unspoken beneath it. "What a monster."

She exhaled heavily, her breath brushing his damp forehead. "Even I have to admit, you beat me down hard today. Tsk. Unbelievable. At my age, losing ground to a kid?"

Wiping sweat from her face, she threw it aside. "People call me a genius?"

Her lips twisted into a self-mocking smile, eyes clouding like she was staring back into the Senju training grounds of the past. "Genius? At eleven, I was just promoted to Chūnin, still struggling not to end up looking like a pincushion from a few senbon."

Her eyes snapped back to Ryo, streaked with sweat and dirt yet unyielding. "But you? You're a monster. At your age, with this strength… even my grandfather, Senju Hashirama, the so-called God of Shinobi, wasn't necessarily stronger."

The words tumbled out raw, then she abruptly waved them away, dismissing her own sentiment.

Her expression darkened, like storm clouds blotting out the sunset.

"Those geezers in Konoha…" Tsunade's tone turned sharp, her irritation unmasked. Straightening, her brows knitted tight. "The order came down. I'm to deploy to the Land of Rain immediately."

Her eyes cut past the Forest of Death's canopy, toward the northwest, where war clouds gathered.

"…The war has begun."

Ryo said nothing.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 28: Zero Dignity

At the edge of the forest, Tsunade leaned against a relatively intact tree.

After catching her breath, she started moving again.

"Hiss…" Tsunade let out a low groan, enduring the soreness in her body, her hands glowing with soft green chakra.

Instead of healing herself first, she pressed her hand directly on Ryo's shoulder wound, where half a wooden splinter was still lodged.

"Don't move." Her voice was sharp and commanding.

Ryo's body tensed instinctively, but he didn't resist.

He felt the immense life force in Tsunade's chakra, precisely enveloping the wound, expelling the splinter, and accelerating the regeneration of muscle tissue.

Her technique sped up recovery far beyond his natural healing.

"Freak," Tsunade muttered under her breath while working.

Her medical ninjutsu catalyzed cells, but what truly unsettled her was Ryo's own recovery ability.

The way his flesh twitched and reformed, like countless tiny organisms rushing to repair under her guidance, the bleeding stopped, the wound closed, and new pink flesh grew, all in minutes.

After fixing the worst of Ryo's shoulder injury, Tsunade turned her glowing hands on herself, treating the sword qi cuts across her body with practiced movements.

She clicked her tongue, glancing at the light scratches left on Ryo's arm. "Every time I see that ridiculous recovery of yours, it makes me feel like I'm the ordinary one here." Her tone carried equal parts awe and irritation.

Ryo flexed his shoulder, now fully healed, and stayed silent.

This was just the start, wasn't it?

Compared to prodigies who piloted giant mecha at eight and were toppling gods by twelve, his so-called healing was nothing impressive—just enough to keep him alive a little longer. In other words, a glorified training dummy.

Tsunade misread his silence, assuming he was worn out from the battle. She finished treating herself, stretched, and rolled her shoulders, almost fully recovered.

Her gaze lingered on Ryo's youthful face. Then, forming a simple summoning seal, she slapped her palm down.

"Bang!" White smoke puffed out.

Not a slug this time, but a slender, ancient katana appeared in her hands. The scabbard was jet black, the tsuba intricately carved, and the air around it radiated sharpness.

Tsunade looked at the sword like it was a hot coal in her hands.

"Here." She tossed it to Ryo with a tone that was half annoyed, half helpless. "You little brat got lucky."

Ryo's reflexes caught it cleanly.

The weight was solid, the craftsmanship flawless. Drawing it halfway, the blade gleamed like autumn water, cold and lethal. A damn fine sword.

"I was planning to give it to you when you graduated," Tsunade said, pouting slightly. "But since you won't make it to graduation, take it now."

"I burned a massive favor with that stinky snake for this." Her voice dripped venom at the words. "It's forged from the same material as the legendary Kusanagi Sword. Sharp, durable—should suit your… unique brand of swordsmanship." She almost said "butchery" but stopped herself.

Kusanagi Sword?! Orochimaru's?! Sasuke's?!

Ryo's grip tightened. That name carried too much weight.

Why would Orochimaru hand something like this over? How big of a debt did Tsunade owe? Or was this just one of his schemes?

"Appreciate it, Sensei." Ryo gave a short reply. A weapon like this wasn't something you turned down.

Years of cooking for her finally paid off. This was better than a lifetime of "thanks."

Tsunade, however, froze like she'd been jabbed. She waved her hands quickly. "No! Don't call me sensei! I haven't taught you a damn thing. That title's just for show."

Her lip curled. "And don't forget—you're still on probation. Officially, you failed my test."

Ryo just looked at her. No words, just a stare that screamed: This woman's crazy.

One moment she handed him a blade worth nations, the next she was cutting ties.

"It just sounds wrong, okay? I prefer when you call me by name. It's easier on the ears." Tsunade said, still looking unsettled.

"And with how fast you're progressing…" Her eyes narrowed at him warily. "What happens if, in a couple of years, I can't even beat you? What kind of sensei loses to her student? Where's the dignity in that?" She poked her own cheek with a scowl. "So no. Publicly, we're teacher and student. Privately, we're… friends. Got it?"

"Sure." Ryo's tone was flat. Whatever she wanted to call it.

The sword was real, and that's what mattered.

Tsunade visibly relaxed when he didn't argue further, but her expression soon darkened again.

The looming war in Ame pressed down like a stone on her chest. Nawaki's face flashed in her memory, youthful and passionate.

"By the way, Ryo." Her tone hardened, probing. "The war's begun. Do you want to go to the front? With your strength, you're already at elite jōnin level. What you lack is the fire of the battlefield. Blood and fire are the fastest shortcuts to growth."

"No." Ryo cut her off without hesitation. "I'm not graduating early."

"Just that?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow. "Reluctant to leave the academy? Want to spend more time with Kushina?"

A trace of nostalgia and envy flashed in her eyes. "Tsk. You two… I'm jealous."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 29: The “Merciful” Plan: Break His Legs

Ryo didn't respond to Tsunade's subtle teasing.

Instead, he changed the subject. "By the way, Tsunade. Nawaki… he's going to the front too?" The image of Nawaki's death from the original story flashed through his mind.

"Yes." Tsunade's voice sank, heavy with exhaustion. "It's his choice, and his destiny."

Her tone carried helplessness, but also an undeniable sense of duty. "As the grandson of the First and Second Hokage, he must inherit the Will of Fire and protect Konoha. Orochimaru will take him."

The last sentence sounded more like self-comfort, clinging to the reliability of her teammate.

Ryo let out a scoff, dripping with sarcasm. "So the battlefield's rotted to the point where fresh genin have to go die? That's the Will of Fire?"

He locked eyes with Tsunade, her face hardening instantly, and pressed further. "I read the records in the Konoha library. What was the First Hokage's greatest ideal when founding Konoha? Wasn't it to build a peaceful era where kids didn't have to go to war?"

He leaned forward slightly, each word sharp and deliberate. "So now Konoha's Will of Fire is to throw kids onto the battlefield like kindling?"

The silence that followed stretched long.

Only the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of surviving birds filled the air.

The struggle in Tsunade's expression was plain to see.

She was Konoha's princess, the battlefield's Medical Saint—but right now, she was just a sister terrified for her brother's life.

"…Maybe you're right." At last, Tsunade's voice came, utterly drained.

What kind of Will of Fire? It was all empty nonsense. She only had one brother.

Had the Senju clan not bled enough for Konoha?

Nawaki was an average genin. On the vast battlefield, he was a drop in the ocean, without any real weight.

The thought of his foolish, impulsive, hot-headed face twisted her chest painfully.

Going to war meant a one-in-ten chance of survival. No, more like none at all.

Even her formidable uncle, Tobirama, had fallen in battle.

But what worried her most was Nawaki's own mindset.

That kid worshipped the Will of Fire to the point of obsession.

If she tried to stop him, he'd sneak off anyway.

And if he did that, he wouldn't even know how he died.

Nawaki, what am I supposed to do with you?

"Hoo…" Tsunade let out a long breath, like expelling her frustration.

Finally, she looked at Ryo, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic plea. "That kid… he doesn't understand danger. He won't listen to me. His head is stuffed with 'Great-Grandpa's will' and 'protecting the village.' If I stop him, he'll just sneak to the front lines. That's no different from throwing himself into a fire pit."

Ryo listened quietly, nodding expressionlessly.

He didn't particularly care about Nawaki. But he was Tsunade's younger brother, and for the past two years, they had shared meals from the same pot—though, more accurately, freeloading off him and Kushina.

More importantly, he didn't want Kushina brokenhearted. And he didn't feel like watching Tsunade fall apart over her brother's corpse.

"Got it." Ryo's tone was flat, casual, like discussing dinner. "Not hard. Set it up in the next couple days. I'll run some practical training with him."

Tsunade blinked. "?"

"I'll 'accidentally' break his leg."

He met her eyes calmly. "And every time he starts recovering, I'll 'accidentally' break it again. He'll stay in bed until either good news comes back from the front or he grows up enough to face reality."

The words were calm, but the content made Tsunade shiver.

It was a method both brutal and brilliant. Simple, effective, and easy to pass off as a training mishap.

"…That's my brother," Tsunade finally said, voice trembling, "my blood brother!"

"I know." Ryo's eyelids didn't even twitch. His tone was steady, almost bored. "So what do you want? Cry over what's left of him on a battlefield? Or deal with him whining in a hospital bed while he heals? At least then he'll still be alive, able to marry, have kids, and let you spoil some nephews."

For once, he spoke at length. His reasoning was straightforward, he just didn't want Kushina grieving, and it balanced out Tsunade's years of sparring and today's gift.

Otherwise, why would he bother?

Tsunade was left speechless.

Ryo's words were cold, but the logic stabbed straight through her excuses.

The images clashed in her mind, holding Nawaki's corpse versus holding his hand as he grimaced in pain, alive.

Death forever, or temporary pain with future hope. Was there even a choice?

Her face shifted through emotions before she finally let out a sigh, raking her fingers through her golden hair. "Alright, alright, I get it. So damn annoying."

She strode ahead, waving her hand like she was shooing him. "But go easy! And remember, it's an accident!"

Her voice carried reluctant acquiescence, even as her mind raced on how to handle her brother and how to explain Nawaki's "serious injury" to Orochimaru.

Ryo didn't answer. He pulled the sword from the ground, slung it over his shoulder, and tucked the newly acquired Kusanagi blade at his waist.

Without a word, he followed Tsunade out of the Death Forest, a place that now looked like it had been ravaged by nature itself.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 30: Rasengan or Bust

The night was thick, seeping into the edges of Konoha.

Ryo flicked the mud from his Kusanagi scabbard and stepped into his small, simple dwelling.

A tingling sensation lingered on his left shoulder from Tsunade's rough treatment, but deeper still was a burning exhaustion spreading from within his body.

Every muscle screamed. Every bone groaned. His whole body reminded him of the insane life-and-death battle with Tsunade in the Forest of Death only hours earlier.

Did he win?

No. Strictly speaking, he'd been beaten into submission.

But forcing Tsunade to that extent, making her bleed and stumble, that was enough.

His next goal was to beat her so badly she couldn't get out of bed. How practical that was remained to be seen, since Tsunade was a medical ninja, but that didn't stop him from wanting to try.

Ryo wiped his face, sweat and dirt clumping in his palm.

He didn't light a lamp. Moonlight spilled faintly through the window, just enough to outline his cross-legged figure.

Time for a debrief. His mind spun like a precision machine, replaying the battle frame by frame.

"Integration, 50.6%," he calculated. "Elite jōnin-level combat power. Barely qualified."

But the number didn't move. It was stuck.

His body was holding him back.

Armament Haki was powerful, but it demanded extreme physical strength.

Ryo looked at his eleven-year-old body. His heart beat steady, muscles bulged, blood rushed like ocean waves. Among his peers, his physique was monstrous.

But still immature. It couldn't fully support Armament Haki.

Muscle fiber density, bone durability, blood vessel tolerance, these needed years to temper.

Right now, it was like strapping bicycle wheels to a sports car. Press the accelerator all you want, it won't move.

Frustrating.

And worse, Ryo understood the essence of Haki—unwavering conviction.

Yet his progress hit a wall for another reason entirely.

His body wasn't just immature, it was bottlenecked.

The system's integration rate couldn't climb without real life-and-death pressure. Shadow Clone drills and sparring weren't enough anymore. His instincts sharpened, his techniques refined, but without the visceral edge of true killing intent pressing down, his growth slowed to a crawl.

He wasn't afraid of danger, he just refused to throw himself into suicidal battles before he had the capital to survive them.

So his strength crawled forward only through natural development, muscle memory, and swordsmanship refinement. Painfully slow.

The irritation burned like a hot wire around his heart, tightening more and more.

No.

The scent of war had already seeped into Konoha like a cold mist.

Standing still was suicide.

Ryo forced down the frustration and the red-haired figure flickering in his mind.

His gaze turned to the other source of power within him.

Chakra.

There, he had an overwhelming advantage.

"Chakra nature?" he muttered. "All five elements, basic use, nothing special. Common sense for a transmigrator."

The real key was quantity.

Ordinary ninja had chakra. Elites had a lot.

Ryo's physical talent was so far beyond normal.

On top of that, his transmigrator soul buffed his mental power. And somewhere in his bloodline lurked the spark of Conqueror's Haki.

Quantitative change into qualitative change? Wrong. He was skipping straight to a sea of chakra.

As an adult, he would probably walk around with reserves on par with a Tailed Beast. A living chakra sea.

And for the past two years, he had abused the ultimate cheat: Shadow Clone Jutsu.

Other shinobi risked their lives using it.

Him? With his absurd physique and mind, he could tank the backlash of multiple clones at once.

More clones, more progress. Basics? Control? Tree climbing? Water walking? Nature transformations?

He had an army grinding for him.

His chakra control wasn't supernatural, but it was close to microscopic precision. That ocean of chakra obeyed him like a tame Tailed Beast.

So, ninjutsu? That was where the cards lay.

Flying Thunder God? God-tier. Sealing techniques? Six Paths level. Perfect trump cards.

But all forbidden.

Tsunade wasn't handing those over. If he could barely walk, why would she let him run?

Fine. If he couldn't reach for the top-tier, he'd forge his own path.

His target: Rasengan.

No hand seals. Instant activation. Unexpected. Deadly.

Naruto spammed his way to Super Kage with nothing but Rasengan variations.

Ryo knew the principle. Reverse-engineering it was easy. His memory was a treasure trove.

Two years of research paid off. Chakra shape transformation—second nature. Nature transformation—early progress. Rasengan with elemental attributes was already within reach.

For two years, he hadn't taught it to Kushina.

Why?

Because she was already overloaded. Academy during the day, Mito drilling sealing arts at night. She was pale from exhaustion.

Ryo just wanted her to have some normal days before the world crushed her.

But now?

The horn of war had blown.

Could he guarantee he wouldn't be drafted tomorrow?

No.

If he was gone, what about Kushina?

Her level now? Taijutsu, average. Ninjutsu, aside from some Uzumaki sealing basics and a few D-rank water tricks, hopelessly weak.

Not acceptable.

She had to be armed.

The plan crystallized.

Step one: teach her Rasengan before graduation. A trump card for both offense and defense.

Step two: once she became the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, teach her Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu.

With her Uzumaki bloodline's massive chakra and Adamantine Sealing Chains, plus the shadow clone cheat, the results spoke for themselves.

Naruto had pulled it off with less talent and only Asura's chakra cheat.

Kushina's talent wasn't any worse. She just needed the right push.

Then? Perfect jinchūriki. A complete Nine-Tails inside her. Infinite chakra. Super Kage-level combat power, guaranteed.

"Perfect jinchūriki, massive chakra, shadow clone spam, Rasengan… safe and secure." Ryo made his decision.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 31: Love Is War

The next morning, as usual, Ryo created a Kage Bunshin to attend class at the ninja academy.

His real body went to the village's ninja tool shop to order the "broken leg" prop for Nawaki, something he had promised Tsunade yesterday.

Class 5-A of the Ninja Academy, during break.

The cicadas chirped noisily outside, while the sun lazily streamed through the window.

The classroom was filled with that sticky, restless atmosphere unique to the eve of graduation.

Bang!

Kushina's head slammed heavily against the open textbook, Geography of the Land of Fire: A Study of Fortifications, for the third time.

Ink marks twisted and swirled before her eyes.

Once again, her peripheral vision swept toward the back corner by the window, uncontrollably.

That figure in his worn-out old clothes—Ryo.

His Kage Bunshin was sprawled out asleep.

And who knew where his real body had gone!

Kushina's cheeks puffed up unconsciously, her face flushed, and her heart pounded like a trapped rabbit.

Irritation, annoyance, and a strange panic crawled up her spine like vines, tightening more and more.

Graduation. Team assignments.

Those two words fell into her heart like cold meteorites, leaving behind a deep, scorched crater.

He was so strong.

So strong that he could defeat a genin in seconds, so strong that even Tsunade had to give it her all to act as his sparring partner.

After graduation?

How could someone like him possibly stay in the village as an ordinary genin?

And she…?

The secret weighing on her heart came from the occasional worried look in Grandma Mito's eyes—she was the new Nine-Tails Jinchūriki.

There was only one path for a Jinchūriki: confined inside the village, forced into silence as a cornerstone.

The cage door was about to close.

That!

Every… side…

"Hey! Ku-shina!" A sudden elbow jabbed her.

Kushina snapped out of her daze, realizing she had been staring at Ryo for far too long.

She turned around and met Uchiha Mikoto's sharp, pearl-like black eyes, which glimmered with amusement and understanding.

"Your soul's about to be sucked away by that sleeping redhead?" Mikoto leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper with a sly smile. "You're practically drooling."

"Who… who's looking at that big idiot!" Kushina's voice shot up as if her tail had been stepped on, drawing the attention of several students in the front row.

She immediately shrank back, her face turning even redder. Lowering her head like an ostrich, she muttered in a voice as soft as a mosquito, "I was just thinking about… team assignments…"

Mikoto didn't buy it.

She followed Kushina's gaze exactly, glanced at Ryo's clone snoring in the corner, then turned back to look at Kushina's red ears.

The knowing smile on her lips deepened.

"You're worried about Ryo. Worried that you won't be assigned to the same team, right?" Mikoto went straight to the point, tapping Kushina's desk with her finger.

"What if Ryo's team ends up with some pretty, cute, skilled girl who's exactly his type? Then they'll live and die together on missions, seeing each other every day. Ryo's so strong, who wouldn't admire him? Who wouldn't want to get close to him? And what if, just what if, that straight-faced blockhead develops a crack in his armor, and that girl takes the chance to swoop in?"

Boom!

The scene Mikoto painted exploded in Kushina's mind like a bomb.

A vague but graceful figure, smiling sweetly, clinging to Ryo.

Passing him water? Wiping his sweat? Even worse… tending to his wounds under the moonlight?!

"No! Impossible!!" Kushina's hair bristled, her red hair standing on end. Like a lion defending its territory, she growled, "Ryo is a complete straight man! All he ever thinks about is barbecuing and training! Nothing else! What vixen could ever flirt her way into that? No way! He won't even look twice!"

Her tone was firm, as much to counter Mikoto as it was to convince herself.

She knew Ryo best! After two years of living together, how much meat had she stolen from him? How many times had he yelled, "Get lost," "You're too loud," or "Don't bother me while I'm sleeping"?

Around him, there was nothing but trouble.

And she was his biggest troublemaker.

But deep down, a sharp thorn pricked at her inflated confidence: Did Ryo really like her? Protecting her, feeding her meat, indulging her, carrying her home, playing with her…

Was it affection?

Or was it just because she was a "little troublemaker" who needed looking after?

Her certainty crumbled into unease.

Her shoulders slumped, her bright blue eyes misting over like a young animal abandoned in the rain.

She looked helplessly at Mikoto, her best friend who always had ideas.

A guilty thought flickered in her mind: What if… I asked Tsunade to put Mikoto on Ryo's team instead? Let Mikoto watch him for me…

"Stop right there!" Mikoto seemed to read her thoughts and rolled her eyes. "You want me to be your gatekeeper? Kushina! Naive! Passive! What if I can't watch him properly? What if I start watching him too much?" That last sentence was barely audible, her eyes drifting for a moment.

Mikoto took a deep breath and leaned closer to Kushina's ear, her voice low but filled with determination. "Kushina! Happiness isn't some fruit that falls from a tree. You have to climb up and pick it! If you're sure he's worth it, if you're this scared of losing him, then don't wait! Reserved? Forget that! Take the initiative! Make it a done deal, got it?"

Take the initiative!

Those words struck Kushina like a spark, igniting the fog in her eyes into blazing flames.

That's right! By the time that blockhead Ryo realizes, the chance might already be gone!

If you wait for the rabbit, you might not catch it and worse, someone else might take the nest.

Who had Uzumaki Kushina ever been afraid of?

Anyone who tried to take what was hers would face the wrath of the Red-Hot Habanero!

So what if it meant being more proactive?

She clenched her fists.

When she looked at Ryo again, there was no hesitation, only determination.

Mikoto was right. No illusions. Prepare to fight.

"Okay!" Kushina's voice wasn't loud, but it rang with power. Her face was flushed with excitement and nerves, and flames seemed to dance in her light blue eyes. "I'll do it! I'll take the initiative! Mikoto, teach me!"

Mikoto's eyes lit up, thrilled at the chance to finally showcase her "strategist" skills.

"That's it!" Mikoto put her arm around Kushina's shoulder, pulling her close. Her voice dropped, full of practical-sounding advice (though most of it was borrowed from girl's manga).

"Conventional tactics won't work on a man like Ryo. We need to cut the problem off at the root! There's only one principle: nonstop, irresistible, high-intensity close contact! Get him used to your presence until his wooden brain can't think of anything else but Uzumaki Kushina!"

Mikoto rattled off like she was giving battle orders: "Step one, invade his personal space completely! Stick to him like glue! After class? Ask him about ninjutsu! Walking home? Link arms naturally! Training break? Sit right next to him, shoulder to shoulder! When you pass him water, 'accidentally' touch his hand! Remember, 'accidentally' is the key! Make it look natural, leave him no excuse to refuse!"

"Step two, magnify your expressions! Eyes! Use admiration, anger, or tears—make him unable to look away! Voice! Soften it! Draw it out! End on a rise! 'Ryo~ help me~' Do you get the destructive power? Pout when necessary! Stomp your feet! Works like magic!"

"Step three, the ultimate weapon." Mikoto's tone dropped lower, filled with resolve. "Escalate physical contact! Hugs! Don't hesitate! Find excuses! Hug him when you win, hug him when you lose! Happy? Hug! Sad? Hug even more! If he's hurt, cry and rush into his arms! Use your warmth to break through his cold exterior! And then… then find your chance to kiss him! Cheek or corner of his mouth, doesn't matter. Kiss him, then run! Leave him standing there, exploding inside!"

Every word Mikoto said detonated in Kushina's mind, making her dizzy, her cheeks hot enough to fry an egg.

Hugging… she could just about imagine.

But kissing?!

Kushina felt like her brain was overheating, steam rising from her head.

"Mi… Mikoto…?" she stammered, staring at her best friend in disbelief.

"How do you even know all this? You're basically… an old driver of love!" She couldn't believe the usually composed Uchiha girl had such fierce and detailed strategies.

That kind of knowledge had to come from a mountain of girl's comics—or a pile of actual experience.

Mikoto's smile froze. The air hung still for a few seconds.

"Ahem…" Mikoto coughed lightly, suddenly embarrassed. She turned away, her earlobes faintly red. How could she admit it?

Should she say, "Actually, I once thought about going after Ryo, but his cold glare scared me off, and then you swooped in and stole the chance"?

Impossible! That shameful history would never be revealed.

She tugged at her sleeves, speaking vaguely, "Of course I had to arm myself with theory! I was worried about my best friend's happiness! Enough nonsense. The battle starts now! Let's see how well you execute, Kushina!"

(To be continued.)

Chapter 32: Operation Elbow Hook

The warm afternoon sun, filtered through the leaves, lazily dappled the dirt roads of Konoha.

Ryo had just stepped out of the stuffy air of the ninja tool shop, which reeked of saltpeter and metal, a heavy, slightly stiff sealed scroll now in his hand.

The shop owner's old face, crisscrossed with wrinkles, still wore a smile, but the probing look in his eyes was as sharp as a needle, clearly piqued by the custom-made items Ryo had ordered.

"Explosive tags too weak to kill a ninja? Heh, kid, play with fire and you might burn yourself…" The old man smacked his lips, his voice drifting into Ryo's ear, neither too loud nor too soft.

Ryo merely pretended not to hear, casually tucking the scroll deep into his ninja tool pouch. Too weak?

A precisely controlled burst was more than enough to break bones, especially the leg bone of a half-grown kid like Nawaki, who was not invulnerable. It was sufficient.

He continued his stride, his destination clear, the Ninja Academy.

After picking up Kushina, the next step was the planned "accident."

The old gate of the Ninja Academy, painted a cream yellow, was visible in the distance.

The afternoon dismissal bell had just ceased, and the lingering scent of dust from frantic running still hung in the air of the playground.

Ryo stood like a stone statue, leaning against the luxuriant phoenix tree beside the school gate, its shadow engulfing most of his figure.

The iron gate of the Ninja Academy clanged open with a forceful push, and a tide of students surged out, their noise reaching a fever pitch.

Amidst the surging crowd, that fiery red hair was still dazzling, like a vibrant banner.

Uzumaki Kushina walked out of the school gate, close beside Uchiha Mikoto, a trace of unspent heat still on her small face.

Mikoto was rapidly whispering something into Kushina's ear, her black hair brushing against her fair cheek, her eyes sparkling.

As Kushina listened, the blush that had faded from her cheeks suddenly flared up again, more vivid than her red hair, her earlobes glowing like ripe fruit.

She quickly glanced towards the school gate, and when she caught sight of the familiar figure under the phoenix tree, a flicker of imperceptible panic and desperate resolve crossed her eyes.

Through the surging crowd, Ryo naturally saw them too.

He frowned slightly. Kushina's expression was off.

The usually fiery red pepper now had flickering eyes and hesitant steps.

And beside her, Mikoto, the usually composed and proper Uchiha young lady, had a curve to her lips that held a hint of playful teasing and encouragement, like a mastermind.

A faint alarm bell rang in Ryo's mind.

Sure enough, Mikoto gave Kushina a push on her back, not hard, but with an undeniable urgency.

Kushina stiffened for a moment, like a fighting cock suddenly thrown into the ring, then took a deep breath, as if that air injected immense courage into her.

She abruptly quickened her pace, not bouncing over to tug at his sleeve as usual, but instead, with an extremely clear objective, almost braving the curious or knowing gazes of her classmates, she charged straight towards him.

Then, under Ryo's slightly puzzled gaze, Kushina unhesitatingly reached out both hands and tightly linked them through his right arm, which hung at his side, as if grasping a lifesaver.

The sunlight caught his sharply defined profile, reflecting the faint flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Warmth spread from his right arm—soft, delicate, yet firm. The girl's body heat seeped through the thin fabric, carried with a nervous tremble, but her grip was tight, clinging like a vine wrapped stubbornly around a tree trunk.

Ryo shifted slightly, intending to free himself, but the small hands clutching his arm were fastened like welded clasps, tightening the more he moved.

That made him pause. She was acting strangely.

"Let go." Ryo's voice was low and steady, carrying a suppressed edge, his gaze fixed on the stubborn little swirl of hair on top of Kushina's head.

His expression remained impassive, though his arm felt uncomfortably restrained.

Kushina looked up abruptly like a startled rabbit, her eyes astonishingly bright, with a look of desperate resolve, glaring back without showing weakness. "No!"

Her voice was a little sharp, and her confidence seemed to still be floating in the air, her gaze unconsciously darting to the side.

Ryo followed her gaze. Not far away, amidst the bustling crowd, Uchiha Mikoto stood with her arms crossed, waving a small fist towards them in a "loving" gesture, mouthing silently, "Go for it!"

So, someone really was giving advice.

A barely perceptible vein twitched on Ryo's forehead.

He tried to pull his arm away with more force, but the resistance was… odd.

Or perhaps, it was the unfamiliar, soft warmth that kept his strength in check, making his movements less decisive than usual.

It was strange.

Strange—yet not unpleasant.

"Let go. People are staring."

"No!" Kushina bit her lower lip, her gaze wavering for a moment, then gathering into stubborn persistence. "What is wrong with me holding your arm? Everyone does it!"

Her gaze darted around, sweeping over several pairs of students walking side by side or with linked arms.

Ryo had no rebuttal.

He caught sight of the curious stares around them, attention steadily gathering on the unusual pair. He didn't like being the focus of a crowd.

The longer this dragged on, the worse it would become.

So, under the prickling pressure of countless eyes, he took the initiative, his right foot stepping forward, calm and deliberate.

He wasn't being dragged. He was moving first.

Kushina clung to his arm like an ornament, her presence light yet burning. With every step, her grip drew out the warmth of her body, making the sensation harder to ignore.

Kushina's heart pounded in her chest, almost exploding.

Success.

First step.

Mikoto's plan—breaking through the "comfort zone"—was working exactly as she said.

Her face burned like fire, but she could not help trying to curve her lips up, which she forcefully suppressed.

She could only bury her head lower, her gaze fixed on the backs of her feet, letting that irresistible blush spread from her neck all the way to her hairline, hotter than flames.

The familiar path back to the Senju compound seemed exceptionally long today.

Every bend, every uneven step, tested Ryo's composure.

Her arm was like a warm shackle, restraining his usual indifference and replacing it with an unfamiliar, unsteady rhythm.

He could clearly feel the pressure of her fingertips through the fabric, and the subtle, continuous throb of her heartbeat transmitted through the thin material.

Finally, the ancient and heavy black-lacquered gate of the Senju clan came into view, with no idlers at the entrance.

As soon as that symbolic black-lacquered gate entered his line of sight, Ryo, almost with a sigh of relief, suddenly yanked his arm free.

"Ah!" Kushina was caught off guard, letting out a surprised cry, her arm losing strength and loosening its grip.

The warmth that had been intimately connected was instantly severed.

Ryo did not even glance at her, sidestepping into the open gate.

Kushina lingered at the entrance, staring at her empty hand. Then, a sly little smile tugged at her lips.

Effective. Absolutely effective.

This strategy really worked.

Taking two deep breaths, she also quickly stepped through the gate.

This was Grandma Mito's house. She would not dare to act as wildly as she did outside.

In the spacious courtyard, a tranquility more oppressive than the afternoon sun permeated the air.

Nawaki leaned against a corridor pillar, his eyes somewhat glazed as he watched the two enter one after another, their atmosphere inexplicably strange.

Ryo was a rare sight here, or rather, it was rare for him to actively step inside the threshold, and Kushina's flushed little face exuded an unspeakable excitement.

Nawaki unconsciously scratched his unruly black hair, confused. "Ryo? How did you… come in?"

Ryo did not stop, walking straight toward the direction from which the smell of food wafted, his voice steady, betraying no emotion. "Tsunade called me."

Concise and to the point, it stifled Nawaki's belly full of curiosity.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 33: Nawaki’s Battle

In the evening, the air in the Senju clan's main residence was as heavy as stagnant water.

Ryo's gaze swept over the frail old woman in the main seat.

Uzumaki Mito's aging was shocking. In just two years, her crimson hair had withered like autumn grass, and her wrinkles were as deep as knife cuts.

Years of battling the corrosive power of the Nine-Tails had continuously depleted Mito's vitality.

Even the Uzumaki clan's longevity, and the Yin Seal that promised youthful looks, could not hold out.

Ryo's gaze shifted to Tsunade by the dining table, and he gave a barely perceptible nod.

Just a moment ago, he had found a chance to tell Tsunade his plan, to shatter Nawaki's blind battlefield fantasies with a seemingly perilous real combat exercise.

Tsunade knitted her brows as she took the special explosive tags, her fingertips glowing faintly with chakra.

Fine chakra threads probed into the paper, precisely inspecting it.

After a moment, she looked up to meet Ryo's calm gaze and let out an almost inaudible "Hmm."

The chakra explosion range was limited to the epidermis, and the impact was concentrated and directed. It would only injure, not cripple.

She pushed the tags back into Ryo's hand, tapping the corner three times with her thumb. Plan approved.

Uzumaki Mito's hand, holding her teacup, paused. Her peripheral vision caught her granddaughter's tensed jawline, then fell upon the tags Ryo had put away.

A flicker of understanding passed through the old woman's cloudy eyes, and her leaf-like lips pressed into a flat line. That was the silent acquiescence of the Senju clan head.

The steam and aroma of oil and salt drifting from the kitchen barely stirred the air, yet they brought a deeper, sticky sensation.

Ryo watched Nawaki across the table devour the last mouthfuls of rice like a whirlwind. A strange heaviness settled in his own stomach.

Nawaki's chopsticks clinked against the bowl, his eyes sparkling with a fiery intensity, full of youthful ambition and battle lust, burning with desire and imagination for the battlefield. Ryo knew that light well. It belonged to a newborn calf, untested by wind and rain, unaware of how flesh and blood are ground into mud. Clear, yet foolish.

He could almost smell the blind excitement radiating from Nawaki.

The fastest to die on the battlefield were these hotheads.

"Sis, this time, following Orochimaru-sensei, during the mission…" Nawaki put down his bowl, his voice rising sharply. "I personally took down a…"

"Hmm, got it," Tsunade cut him off coolly, picking up the last piece of pickled radish with her chopsticks and biting into it with a crisp snap that ended Nawaki's animated speech.

Nawaki was like a duck with its neck squeezed, his words stuck in his throat. His excitement deflated, and an awkward blush spread across his face.

Ryo silently put down his bowl.

Under the table, Tsunade's foot accurately tapped his ankle, not too hard, not too soft, urging him on.

The show was about to begin.

He looked up at Tsunade.

Tsunade's eyelids were lowered, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow on her cheek. Deep within that shadow lay undeniable resolve.

Uzumaki Mito softly "hmm"-ed, a whisper as faint as wind rustling withered leaves, yet it carried the heavy weight of silent consent.

The dining table was cleared, but the atmosphere tightened even more, like a taut bowstring.

"Nawaki," Tsunade lifted her eyes, her gaze heavy, pressing down on her younger brother. "Do you really want to go to the battlefield?"

"Of course." Nawaki straightened his back as if injected with a stimulant, the extinguished flame in his eyes flaring again. "I am the heir of the Senju. I want to become a great Hokage like Grandpa. How can I hide in the village?"

Mito's fingers, holding the teacup, tightened slightly, her knuckles turning pale.

Ryo caught the fleeting hint of pain in the old woman's eyes.

Tsunade's face did not soften. "Whether you are a Senju or the Hokage's grandson," each word fell like ice on stone, "speak with strength. Shouting slogans and running to the battlefield is suicide."

Nawaki's face turned beet red, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "Sis. I'm not an academy rookie anymore. I have followed Orochimaru-sensei for over a year…"

He was eager to prove himself, but when he met Tsunade's icy gaze, his momentum faltered at the end.

"Proof?" Tsunade snorted. "Good. I will give you a chance. Beat him."

She jerked her chin at Ryo. "If you beat Ryo, forget the battlefield. I will go talk to the Hokage for you and have you put in charge of important missions. If you cannot beat him, drop the idea early."

Nawaki's gaze snapped to Ryo's face, shock, anger, fear, and disbelief mixing, then hardening into humiliation at being underestimated. His eyes burned red.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

Kushina even jumped up, her small face pale. "Tsunade-neechan. No, this will not do. Ryo, he…"

She wanted to say Ryo was too strong and did not hold back, so how could Nawaki fight him.

But seeing Tsunade's iron-cold expression, she swallowed the rest.

"Sis, you know…" Nawaki's voice trembled with fear of Ryo.

Tsunade cut him off. "Are you fighting or not. One word."

She crossed her arms. Her aura locked down the space, the air turning to lead.

Nawaki's chest heaved, his teeth grinding audibly.

His gaze swept over Mito's expressionless face. The silent worry in his grandmother's eyes pricked him like a needle.

His pride surged like boiling lava. He stomped his foot, the wooden floor groaning. "If I have to fight, I will fight. What is there to be afraid of."

He strode toward the center of the backyard's open space, each step causing a slight tremor, filled with desperate resolve.

The wind ruffled his bangs, his back burning with anger and a make-or-break courage.

"Ryo." Kushina urgently grabbed Ryo's arm, her lowered voice laced with panic and pleading. "You must go easy on him."

Her moist eyes reflected Ryo's expressionless face, her small face full of entreaty.

Ryo's gaze lingered on her for a moment, calm. "Relax. I will not use sword techniques, or taijutsu."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Nawaki, who stood tense like a bull in the center. "Today, I will only use the Academy Three, and one new ninjutsu."

Kushina opened her mouth, but her words stuck. Her worry did not lessen. It spread like cold vines through her chest.

Ryo did not look at her again, walking directly to face Nawaki.

"Only the Academy Three and a new ninjutsu?" Nawaki sounded as if he had heard a joke. His twisted smile showed contempt and irritation. "Are you looking down on me, Ryo?"

Ryo's answer was a flurry of hand signs, his hands moving like a butterfly dance, completed in an instant. "Ninpō: Bunshin no Jutsu."

Bang bang bang.

White smoke burst out, and several Ryo figures appeared at once, scattered irregularly, vaguely surrounding Nawaki.

The movements were so fast that only afterimages remained on Nawaki's retina.

Nawaki's pupils contracted. The speed of this Bunshin no Jutsu was astonishing, but his reaction was also quick. "Hmph. Suiton, Mizurappa (Water Release: Wild Water Wave)."

His hand signs were equally swift. Water roared from his mouth, crashing into the clones in front.

Puff puff puff.

The clones disintegrated under the impact, turning into white smoke.

However, just as the Wild Water Wave's power was about to dissipate, Nawaki's peripheral vision caught something, a gust of wind from the smoke on the left.

One Ryo, using the brief cover of water mist and smoke, lunged forward.

His right palm extended, and above its center, a rapidly spinning, compressed ball of chakra churned the air, emitting a low, piercing hum like venomous bees circling at low altitude. It tore through the calm air.

What is that.

Nawaki's scalp prickled.

Training instincts kicked in. He twisted his body to the right with incredible flexibility.

The Rasengan, with its air-tearing roar, whizzed past the space under his ribs. The heat from its terrifying rotation scorched his skin.

Nawaki broke into a cold sweat, no longer daring to show contempt.

Even without sword techniques or taijutsu, the pressure from this new ninjutsu was terrifying.

He quickly retreated to create distance, then formed another Water Release hand sign. "Suiton, Suijinheki (Water Formation Wall)."

Splash.

A thick wall of water rose from the ground, instantly separating him and Ryo.

The water curtain shimmered, reflecting Ryo's calm face, and distorting the lingering shock in his own eyes.

But Ryo gave Nawaki no chance to breathe.

Only scattered white smoke remained where he had stood. His true body had already used Kawarimi no Jutsu (Body Replacement Technique) to move to Nawaki's side and rear.

"Here." Nawaki growled, his combat instincts sensing the direction, and he formed hand signs again. "Suiton, Suishōha (Water Shockwave Wave)." Denser streams of water, like a bursting dam, rushed toward Ryo, who had just revealed himself.

But Ryo seemed to have predicted it. A fraction of a second before the Water Shockwave fully formed, he crouched and pushed off, moving like a swallow skimming the ground, narrowly dodging the surging water.

Splashing droplets grazed his hair and the edges of his clothes.

Nawaki's heart sank. Ryo's speed and foresight were terrifying.

His Suiton was powerful enough to defeat ordinary chūnin, but if it could not hit, it was wasted effort.

He changed strategy, trying to suppress Ryo with continuous Wild Water Waves. "Ha. Ha."

With each shout, streams of water crisscrossed, splashing mud and water, filling the air with a damp chill. Yet Ryo's figure always slipped through the gaps with despairing agility.

"Damn it." Impatience grew in Nawaki's heart like vines choking reason. "Then do not blame me. Suiton, Suiryūdan no Jutsu (Water Dragon Bullet Technique)."

Nawaki abandoned all reservations. His chakra surged at full power, and his hand signs turned complex and solemn.

Heavy water vapor rapidly condensed, and a huge dragon-shaped mass of water twisted into form. Its scales and claws still held the blur of a novice's jutsu, but its power far exceeded ordinary Suiton.

Kushina cried out in alarm. "Nawaki-nii."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 34: Death By Explosion

A giant dragon roared, carrying an irresistibly powerful current, and slammed into Ryo in the center of the arena.

The entire backyard seemed to be enveloped by its massive shadow.

Ryo faced the rushing Suiryūdan no Jutsu with an impassive face.

His body sank slightly, his center of gravity pressed low. The muscles of his right arm bulged, and the blue Rasengan in his palm suddenly hummed at high speed, its brightness surging.

The terrifying rotational force of the condensed chakra stirred the air, forming a small vortex centered on the Rasengan.

Facing the crashing dragon head, he showed no intention of dodging.

A head-on clash?

No.

Just as the dragon head, carrying immense power, was about to engulf him, Ryo twisted his body sideways like a ghost.

He did not charge head-on into the energy core of the jutsu.

His right palm, wrapped in the fiercely spinning Rasengan, moved like a precise mechanical arm, tracing an ingenious trajectory. It was precise and ruthless, yet contained a yielding roundness, pressing against a weak chakra node slightly behind the right side of the dragon's head, three inches below the "neck."

This was not brute force. It was like a butcher dismembering an ox.

Buzz. Sizzle.

The high-speed rotational cutting of the Rasengan took effect instantly.

The dragon's head was torn apart like it had been fed into an invisible blade wheel. Its structure collapsed in an instant.

The violent chakra flow was twisted and ripped apart.

Boom.

The subsequent mass of water lost control. Without the dragon head's guidance, it swept everywhere like a bursting mountain flood.

Droplets turned into a downpour, pounding roofs and walls with incessant rattling.

The courtyard ground, once only patchy with wet, became a muddy puddle.

The enormous backlash made Nawaki's chest churn, and he stumbled back several steps before he stabilized.

He stared, stunned, at the shattered water dragon turning into a sky full of spray.

This overturned his understanding. His strongest attack, the B-rank Suiryūdan no Jutsu, had been dispersed by a ninjutsu he had never heard of.

"What… what was that?" Nawaki asked, his voice lost.

"Rasengan." Ryo uttered three words.

He stood by the muddy puddle, splashed with water, his breathing steady.

Looking at Nawaki's bewildered, flustered face, Ryo felt no smugness.

The timing was perfect.

Ryo formed hand signs again. "Bunshin no Jutsu." White smoke spread, and several clones reappeared, like a trained pack of wolves, launching feints from different directions.

After the mental shock of his failed dragon, Nawaki's reactions had dulled.

Several clones surged forward. Nawaki's nerves stretched taut. He hastily formed hand signs. "Suiton, Suij…" The Suijinheki (Water Formation Wall) had only risen halfway when his movement suddenly paused.

A Ryo clone on the left, rushing closer, suddenly slipped, staggering on the muddy ground as if losing footing, exposing a clear gap in its chest and abdomen.

This sliver of a flaw was like a desert spring in Nawaki's overworked mind.

Accumulated anger and unwillingness, humiliation suppressed to madness, instantly became fuel driven by instinct.

"Opportunity." A sharp glint flashed in Nawaki's eyes. The last shred of rationality was overwhelmed.

He ignored Suiton defense and tactics, roaring, "Break him."

He drove off the muddy ground and charged at the "Ryo" that had exposed a weakness.

All his chakra condensed into his fist. He aimed to slam it into the center of that staggering clone's chest, to blast this annoying Ryo apart himself.

"Die." Nawaki's roar carried the sudden release of ecstasy and relief.

Bang.

The unadorned fist struck true.

That "Ryo" exploded into a cloud of white smoke. A clone.

The impact twisted Nawaki's ferocity into a grim, triumphant smile, as if he had avenged a great enemy.

However.

As the white smoke burst and the clone dispersed, an ominous orange-red light, like a demon's eye, pierced from the core of the dissipating smoke. Then—

Boom.

Orange-red flames and precisely controlled shockwaves, like a chained beast, tore through smoke and dust, violent yet restrained.

At the moment Nawaki's fist touched the clone, his weight was pitched forward, his defense at its weakest, and that triumphant face, inches from the blast point, had not even finished its smile.

This was not a clone being destroyed.

It was a trap, preloaded with special explosive tags and detonated on cue.

Nawaki's triumph froze into horror before it could turn to shock.

He had no time to pull back, form hand signs, or gather protective chakra. The distance was too close, the explosion too violent. The instant he saw the flare, the shockwave had already hit.

It's over.

"Ah—"

Nawaki's scream began, then was swallowed by the roar.

He flew several meters like a rag doll, then crashed into the muddy pit.

Plop.

Blood spread through the mud, glaring and red.

Nawaki's legs were torn and twisted, stark white bone fragments showing.

His eyes rolled back and he passed out, the grim triumph still stuck on his face.

"Nawaki-nii." Kushina's heart-wrenching scream pierced the fading echoes.

The smoke had not fully dissipated when Tsunade shot forward.

She moved so fast only an afterimage remained.

Plop.

She knelt in the mud, splashing murky water.

Her hands moved like lightning. A dense, tangible green chakra gathered in her palms.

"Nawaki." Tsunade's roar was urgent, but her hands were iron-steady as she pressed the Shōsen Jutsu (Mystical Palm Technique) onto the bloody, profusely bleeding fracture.

Sizzle.

The sharp, powerful stimulation of the Mystical Palm Technique plunged into Nawaki's body.

"Ugh, ah—" Nawaki's body jolted as if electrocuted. A broken whimper squeezed from his throat, then he went limp.

Uzumaki Mito walked over silently, her hunched back straightening.

Her cloudy eyes swept over the black-red puddle, over Nawaki's mangled legs, and finally rested on Ryo.

That gaze was bottomless, heavy as lead.

She did not speak. She extended a withered hand to press firmly on Nawaki's uninjured forearm, as if to hold something steady.

Ryo could feel a subtle, almost imperceptible tremor in her hand.

Ryo stood still, the blast's dust shaking from his clothes.

His face was expressionless, calm as if he had brushed off some dirt.

His eyes met Tsunade's glance.

Tsunade's eyes were like hot iron, filled with rage, icy reproach, and something too complex to untangle, locking onto Ryo.

"Ryo." She roared, her voice scraping bone.

The meaning was clear. Explain yourself.

Ryo sneered inwardly. Keep acting. I will carry the blame.

He lowered his eyelids, avoiding her murderous stare, but his gaze, unfortunately, fell on the frozen figure beside him.

Kushina looked struck by lightning, rooted to the spot.

A few strands of hair were disheveled by the blast.

The color drained from her face. Her lips trembled, but no sound came.

Her light blue eyes were full of shock, panic, and fear on the verge of breaking.

Most of that fear was not directed at Nawaki.

Her gaze darted between Ryo, Tsunade, and Mito.

Mito was too calm.

So calm it made her uneasy.

Tsunade's fury looked like it would tear Ryo apart on the spot.

It is over. Kushina's mind roared.

Grandma would drive Ryo away and never let her see him again.

That thought gripped her heart like a demon's claw, suffocating her.

Tears welled up, filming her terrified eyes with desperate moisture.

Uzumaki Mito let out a long breath, as if setting down a burden.

She patted Nawaki's uninjured arm, then straightened.

Her cloudy gaze swept the scene, landed on Kushina's distraught face, then turned to Ryo.

"Tsunade," Mito's voice was steady and carried undeniable weight, "take Nawaki to the hospital and treat him carefully. Ryo, you stay."

"Grandma." Kushina, like a cat with its tail stepped on, pounced toward Mito, her voice trembling with a sob. "Nawaki-nii, he…"

Mito's withered yet strong hand caught Kushina's clenched fist, pulling her close.

Her other hand supported Kushina's weak shoulders, sheltering her under her wing.

"Understood, Grandma." Tsunade growled low, deftly lifting the unconscious Nawaki and shielding his vital points.

Before leaving, she glared fiercely at Ryo, eyes like they could eat him.

There was acting in that, and real anger at her brother's state.

Holding Nawaki, she rushed out through the courtyard gate like the wind and vanished.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 35: Kushina Short-Circuits

The messy scene in the backyard was mostly cleared in an instant.

The lingering smell of blood mixed with mud stung their noses, leaving only silent wreckage and a few people standing in a daze.

Kushina bit her lip hard, almost tasting iron. Her whole body still trembled slightly, half from fright, half from immense confusion and fear.

Her grandmother's presence beside her was like a giant iceberg, exuding a chilling coldness.

She did not dare to look up, only felt Mito's grip on her hand tighten. That hand was rough and warm, carrying a strange, heavy strength.

Mito did not speak immediately.

She pulled Kushina forward two steps, her gaze sweeping over the muddy pit where Nawaki had fallen. The congealed black and red bloodstains were particularly jarring.

Mixed in were a few blown-up, charred scraps of fabric.

The old woman's gaze paused for a moment, extremely brief, so brief it could have been an illusion.

Then she turned to Kushina, her tone calm and seasoned, yet carrying an unmistakable conclusion. "Kushina, in real combat drills, there will always be injuries."

Kushina looked up sharply, eyes wide with disbelief.

Grandma is…

Mito seemed oblivious to her shock, continuing in a steady, unhurried voice. "This time, it is not Ryo's fault."

This sentence blocked all of Kushina's attempts to plead for Ryo. "Your brother Nawaki has been graduated for over a year now. He could not see such an obvious trap."

Mito's voice even carried a hint of sternness, disappointment at his failure. "He deserves to be injured."

Deserves, deserves?

The words lashed at Kushina's heart like a whip.

Were those words spoken by the grandma who doted on Nawaki?

Nawaki was lying in a pool of blood, bone showing.

Tears gushed out, blurring her vision. "But, Grandma…"

"No buts." Mito cut her off decisively, tightening her grip on Kushina's hand a little more. Her eyes, which had seen through the ways of the world, fixed on her granddaughter's tear-filled gaze.

"With your sister Tsunade here, Nawaki will be fine. Her medical ninjutsu can pull back someone with half a life left, let alone a serious flesh and bone injury. What are you worrying about?"

Kushina was stunned by this barrage of conclusions, tears clinging to her lashes as she stared blankly at her grandmother.

Her calm, almost cruel tone, the unquestionable attitude, was like a basin of ice water, freezing her burning anger and worry for Ryo.

Logically, it seemed to make sense. Nawaki did rush into the trap himself, and Ryo did not use sword or taijutsu, only clones, the Academy Three, and that new jutsu. But he still used explosive tags.

She suddenly turned her head, her gaze piercing the lingering smoke, glaring at Ryo with a mix of grievance and resentment.

Why was he so ruthless?

What if Mito really was not reasonable?

What if she got angry and wanted Ryo's life?

These fears almost tore her apart.

She clasped her fingers tightly, not even noticing her nails digging into her palms.

Ryo sneered inwardly, wanting to throw the truth in her face. Silly girl. Your grandma and your sister conspired with me to do this. All to break the leg of that reckless Nawaki who is eager to rush to the battlefield and die. To make him lie quietly in a hospital bed for a few months. To keep him from ending up a corpse on the battlefield next time.

That truth was too cruel, and too absurd.

Ryo forced down the impulse.

With Kushina's quick temper and inability to keep secrets, she would shout it at the barely conscious Nawaki in Konoha Hospital within half a day.

If Nawaki learned from her that this "bloody lesson" was orchestrated by his sister and grandmother, Ryo did not want to imagine the outcome.

Nawaki would probably collapse and question his life. Was he really "their own"?

What a huge irony.

While Kushina was left speechless by Mito's "conclusion," Ryo took a step forward, breaking the eerie silence.

He looked at Mito, his posture neither humble nor arrogant, with a hint of a junior's respect. "Mito-sama, I am very sorry about Nawaki. Although it was necessary for the drill, he was indeed injured."

Mito nodded slightly, her face unreadable. "As long as you know the limits. Ruthless, but leaving room. Tsunade can heal Nawaki, let him lie down for a few months, cool his head, and keep him from running to the battlefield and not coming back."

Mito spoke directly, without any attempt to conceal her meaning.

Ryo understood and got straight to the point. "That is Nawaki. I want to bring up another matter."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the still-dazed Kushina. "There is still some time until graduation. The battlefield situation is getting worse by the day. Kushina, she…" He left it there.

He saw Mito's eyelid twitch slightly.

"My meaning is, during this period before graduation, I want to arrange special training for Kushina." Ryo stated his purpose. "Mainly practical combat response and the mastery of a special ninjutsu."

He did not mention the name, but his gaze drifted to Kushina's face.

Her eyes had gone wide when she saw him dismantle Nawaki's Suiryūdan with the Rasengan.

Mito scrutinized Ryo.

Tsunade had already informed her of the boy's true strength.

Elite jōnin, without a doubt.

Hiruzen might not know Ryo's capabilities, but she did.

Entrusting Kushina to him for a time, to push her strength before war broke out, was a worthwhile deal.

Kushina, who carried the remaining hope of Uzushiogakure, had, in these two years, come to see Konoha as home.

Mito saw it clearly.

Kushina's sense of belonging no longer needed proof from sitting in a classroom.

Besides, there was a better bond.

This girl had tied her heart to Ryo.

She should give them space and let their relationship progress.

"Strength," Mito finally said, steady as ever, "is crucial. It is always good for Konoha to have more power."

She looked at Ryo, a flicker of approval in her cloudy eyes. "I will leave Kushina with you for a few months. Arrange it as you see fit. I will not interfere."

The last four words were both trust and acknowledgment.

Beside him, Kushina felt dazed, her ears buzzing ever since Ryo mentioned special training for her.

What battlefield. What special training. What were Grandma and Ryo talking about.

Her sluggish mind turned like old gears.

Just now, she was fearing her brother's injury and Ryo's reckoning. How did it jump to her getting individual special training with Ryo.

Not only did Grandma not blame him for injuring Nawaki, she agreed to let him train her.

When Mito's words, "I will leave Kushina with you for a few months," reached her, what exploded was not thunder, but a scorching current rushing to her head.

Her previously pale face turned red like a cooked shrimp.

Ryo, alone, guidance.

"Whoosh." Mikoto's "Ryo Emotional Progression" strategies flashed before her eyes, creating physical contact, hugs, even kisses.

Boom.

Kushina felt her scalp steam. Her whole body went dizzy, as if she were soaking in a honey hot spring, her feet floating.

Ryo's peripheral vision caught her rapidly rising blush, and he clicked his tongue inwardly.

"I understand, Mito-sama." Ryo bowed slightly. "I will arrange time and place. I will not delay Kushina's basic fūinjutsu studies with you. As for the academy…"

"Hmph, a few months of practical experience is worth years of wasted time there. If she graduates early, so be it. I will talk to Sarutobi." Mito's tone was flat, but her words carried the assertiveness of Konoha's ruler.

"Thank you." Ryo's goal achieved, the curve of his mouth flattened. His gaze turned to Kushina, who was still in a steam-engine state.

The instant their eyes met, she dropped her gaze as if scalded, fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes. Color rushed from her neck to the tips of her ears, and even her unruly red cowlick seemed to droop in embarrassment

"Then I will not disturb you further today." Ryo took his leave. This was not the place to linger. He had taken the blame and achieved his goal. Time to go. "I will make time to visit Nawaki."

Mito waved her hand. A hint of fatigue flashed in her eyes, tacit consent given.

Ryo turned and left, his steps swift and decisive, quickly crossing the messy courtyard and disappearing under the porch at the gate.

The moment he left, the taut string in the backyard seemed to loosen a little.

Mito turned her head, her gaze falling on her little granddaughter, who had not yet emerged from her tangle of emotions.

Kushina was still immersed in the idea of being "specially trained" by Ryo, her face red, wearing the dazed look of someone who had survived a calamity, mixed with a shy anticipation she could not put into words.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 36: Training Arc

The newborn sun had just torn through the cicada-wing-thin mist above Konoha, casting a cool light upon the path that had just witnessed a silent farewell.

In the air, it seemed as if last night's cool dew and a certain oppressive heaviness still lingered.

Ryo stood at the edge of the hidden forest behind the Senju old residence, his shadow stretched long.

The morning's silence was widened by a few intermittent bird calls in the distance, yet it could not drown out the echo of that brief scene from a few hours ago in his mind.

Tsunade had efficiently dealt with the last bit of trouble from Nawaki's broken leg, her movements crisp and clean as always.

She did not even wait for the anesthetic to wear off before slinging that familiar giant scroll onto her back.

The assembled team at the village gate had already departed. There was no grand send-off, only an urgent and somber departure.

"Hey."

Just before Tsunade was about to join Orochimaru and Jiraiya's team, Ryo's voice rang out, neither a plea to stay nor softened by any extra address.

Tsunade's steps paused.

"Do not die."

Kushina, standing nearby, bit her lower lip, her light blue eyes filled with unconcealed worry, her gaze glued to Tsunade's straight back.

Tsunade did not look back.

She just waved her hand forcefully and casually, her back to them.

That figure, representing Konoha's Princess, the Battlefield's Miracle Healer, and the last glory of the Senju, finally stopped lingering and strode forward to join Orochimaru and Jiraiya, embarking on the dusty road toward Ame.

Her silhouette gradually shrank and blurred amidst the thin mist and trees.

Until the last bit of her outline disappeared, like a distant mountain swallowed by thick fog.

…

The next sun rose over Konoha, its rays slipping through the lingering morning haze and casting a cool light.

Ryo stood at the edge of the hidden forest behind the Senju old residence, his shadow stretched long.

The morning air carried the crisp scent of damp earth and grassy dew, so quiet that only a few intermittent bird calls could be heard.

His gaze swept over the somewhat disheveled training ground, still smelling of freshly turned earth, the place where Nawaki had received an unforgettable lesson yesterday. Ryo frowned.

The thought was fleeting. Nawaki's leg was now resting under Tsunade's healing jutsu at Konoha Hospital, a decent outcome for everyone.

Just then, hurried and slightly stumbling footsteps came from behind, carrying an undisguised dominance that broke the morning's tranquility.

"Ryo!" A crisp shout pierced the thin forest mist, like a small cannonball flying at him.

Ryo instinctively turned.

Kushina ran toward him like a ball of fire leaping and burning in the morning light.

Mito's decision yesterday, "Kushina is entrusted to you for a few months," had ignited everything inside the little firecracker. She was almost the first to rush to the training ground, treading on the dew.

Her dazzling red hair was casually gathered into a vibrant ponytail, swinging with her strides. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her temples.

She was not wearing the neat academy uniform, probably finding it cumbersome. Instead, she wore a slightly faded but thick dark green short-sleeved training top, paired with form-fitting black capri training pants, revealing a section of energetic, smoothly contoured calves.

On her feet were simple canvas gaiter boots, their soles stained with damp earth.

Ryo's gaze swept over her battle-ready attire without much ripple.

"Too late."

Kushina had just reached two meters in front of him. Before she could catch her breath, she was choked by those ice-cold words. The excited flush on her face seemed to deepen, probably from anger.

She quickly took a deep breath, suppressing that spark of anger. Looking up, her voice was clear and self-righteous. "I was too excited last night. Could not sleep. Is that not allowed?"

She boldly took a step closer, instantly shortening the distance, almost close enough to feel the warm, girlish scent from her.

The sudden closeness did not shake Ryo in the slightest, but his gaze inadvertently swept over her chest, which rose and fell rapidly from running. Even the thick fabric could not completely conceal the soft curve.

"Talk nonsense again, and go back to the academy to sleep." His voice was clipped, carrying a trace of warning.

Kushina immediately plastered on a big, somewhat stiff smile, even showing two rows of small white teeth. Her voice jumped eight octaves and dragged out, "I—KNOW—RYO—SEN—SEI. What awesome thing are we learning today?"

Her deliberate fawning was like a small animal wagging its tail.

The two words "sensei" drilled into his ears, but Ryo's face didn't pay it any mind. He gave her no extra glance, only turned and strode toward the flattest open space at the center of the field.

"Keep up." Two words tossed over his shoulder.

Kushina looked at his back and pouted hard, silently making a face. Tch. Dead wood.

The complaints in her mind crackled like firecrackers, but her steps did not slow. She followed closely, her ponytail swinging in reluctant arcs behind her.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 37: Zero Hand Seals

Ryo stood still, his gaze falling on Kushina, who was running toward him. Without any preamble, he got straight to the point: "Basics determine height. Tree climbing, water walking, how long have you practiced?"

Kushina had just steadied herself when his direct approach, not even giving her time to catch her breath, startled her. She instinctively puffed out her small chest, showing the pride unique to the Uzumaki clan. "Of course I've practiced! I can climb to the top! Water walking, I can also last several minutes…"

Her voice weakened under Ryo's cold, expressionless gaze.

She mumbled softly, "…Although, sometimes I fall down…"

"Falling down means you're trash."

Ryo's evaluation was blunt, like stating a simple fact. "Chakra control, rotten."

This harsh judgment was like hot oil splattering into cold water, and Kushina instantly ignited, flames flashing in her eyes.

"Who are you calling trash?!"

Her small fists clenched, her cheeks flushed, and her ponytail seemed ready to explode with anger. Even the tips of her hair seemed indignant.

Ryo completely avoided her burning eyes. Instead, his gaze pressed down even more heavily, carrying a condescending scrutiny. "The Uzumaki have naturally immense chakra, which is a huge obstacle for fine control. Yet after two years, you're still like this."

He paused deliberately, his tone flat but every word sharp. "That proves you haven't put in the effort, or," he tilted his head slightly, a sneer curling at the corner of his lips, "you're simply incapable."

"You!" Kushina's chest heaved violently with anger, her dark green training uniform tightening and loosening. Grievance and fury intertwined, rushing to her head.

She wanted to shout back, wanted to rush forward and punch this detestable guy into the ground. Her fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white, but she held herself back with visible effort.

Her voice came out strained, trembling not with weakness but with sheer indignation.
"…Who… who didn't put in effort? I just… I just have a bit of trouble controlling it, that's all!"

Ryo didn't soften in the slightest. He met her glare head-on, like steel against fire.
"Excuses. On the battlefield, no one cares why you fail. They only care that you failed."

The words hit Kushina like a whip. She bit down hard on her lip, the anger in her chest boiling hotter. Her nails dug into her palms, but she still refused to look away from him.

Ryo let the silence stretch, while he assessed the situation in his mind, her chakra control clearly exposed the conflict between her "essence" (immense chakra) and "intelligence" (fine control). As for hand seals, one of the eight core ninja basics, Ryo was almost certain she hadn't developed them well. Combined with her rough personality, complex hand seal processes would only slow her down.

He had to find a breakthrough, bypass her weaknesses, and directly boost her combat ability.

The strengthening plan he designed for Kushina surfaced clearly: ninjutsu that could be cast without hand seals.

This would perfectly bypass her hand seal weakness, directly turning the Uzumaki's immense chakra into destructive power, raising her combat strength in the shortest time.

Decision made, Ryo's tone returned to calm coldness. His words came out faster than usual, as if erasing the awkward seconds before. "Begin. First lesson, Rasengan."

Ryo raised his right hand, fingers naturally spread, palm facing up.

Just as Kushina looked at him with curiosity and a trace of mischief, a ripple spread in the depths of Ryo's calm eyes.

He slowly lifted his right hand, fingers spread, palm facing the hazy morning light.

The starting posture was unremarkable, with no complex hand seals, no roaring wind or thunder. However, in the next instant,

Sizzle!

In just one second, before Kushina's gasp even left her throat, a fist-sized, rapidly spinning, pure blue chakra sphere, the Rasengan, suspended above Ryo's palm!

Its inner light flowed brilliantly, the surrounding air churned wildly, lifting strands of Kushina's red hair.

Violent. Pure. The aura of destruction spread out like an invisible shockwave instantly.

Kushina's beautiful blue eyes widened to the limit.

Her pupils rapidly contracted under the glow of the deadly sphere.

Her small mouth gaped slightly, her earlier smugness instantly shattered by this terrifying ninjutsu, cast without hand seals, purely condensed from destructive power. Even her anger froze.

"…This… this?!" she gasped.

"It's called Rasengan." Ryo steadily held the miniature storm. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a metallic weight, each word striking Kushina's ears and pounding heart.

"A highly compressed, rapidly spinning sphere of pure chakra. No hand seals, instant cast." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the turbulent energy inside the sphere, before adding the most critical detail. "It destroys from within, with immense power."

"It bypasses complex hand seals, relying solely on chakra shape transformation. This is perfect for you, since you're not skilled in hand seals."

"It maximizes the advantage of your immense chakra."

This last sentence was like a surgical knife, directly pointing out the core problem she needed solved most.

The storm in his palm did not weaken, its low hum speaking for itself.

Seeing Kushina's captivated expression, her eyes glued to his palm, Ryo finally threw out the bait, his voice utterly flat. "Want to learn?"

"Want to learn?!" She trembled with excitement, lunging forward and grabbing Ryo's arm tightly, the one holding the Rasengan.

No hand seals. Instant cast. Internal destruction. Immense power. And it was perfect for her.

These keywords exploded in her heart like thunder.

"Learn! Of course I want to learn! Now! Immediately!" Her voice shook with excitement, her cheeks red like hot iron. Her knuckles turned white from gripping, fingernails almost digging into Ryo's arm through his training uniform. "Right now! Quickly tell me how to do it! Tell me!"

The hand seal problem that had troubled her suddenly had the perfect solution.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 38: Rotten

Ryo felt the heat radiating from his arm and the low growl of the Rasengan in his palm, caused by the slight instability from Kushina's forceful impact.

He lowered his head, looking at the girl who was almost hanging onto him.

She lifted her face, eyes burning with unshakable determination, reflecting the blue light of the Rasengan against his still-taut expression.

"Alright, Kushina, get ready."

"Put away your impulses," Ryo's voice cut in, calm but sharp. "Quiet down. Use your head."

The dangerous, ghostly blue orb in his hand slowly dissipated in the morning light, leaving only a faint scorched smell in the air.

Ryo walked over to an old oak tree with gnarled branches and mottled bark.

"First step, feel it."

He didn't use chakra, only extended a finger and pressed it against the rough trunk. His fingertip slid down the bark without obstruction. "The tree's veins are your path."

Kushina was supposed to stay back and watch, but instead she stepped forward until her shoulder nearly brushed his arm.

Ryo's hand froze midair, his eyes narrowing slightly. The sudden closeness was deliberate.

"What are you doing?"

Kushina stiffened under the weight of his tone, but she didn't back down. She took a breath, puffed herself up, and declared, "To get a clearer look! How else am I supposed to learn?"

Without waiting for his reply, she copied his movement, pressing her finger against the bark. "Like this, right?"

Her voice was edged with defiance, her fingertip landing close to where his had been.

Ryo studied her, his gaze unreadable. For a moment, only the rustling of leaves and Kushina's quickened breath filled the field.

"Fine. Since you're this close, pay attention."

He tapped another groove in the bark with precision. "Feel the flow. Don't force your chakra. Guide it. That's the difference between control and waste."

Kushina clenched her jaw, nodding quickly. "I'll get it right this time."

Mimicking him, she held her breath, concentrating her chakra slowly at her fingertips.

A faint blue glow lit up, flickering with unstable fluctuations.

"Flow. Adhere." Ryo's low voice gave the command, his gaze fixed tightly on the glow of her chakra.

Her control was crude.

The faint blue light flickered on and off, dancing like a drunkard at her fingertips. Let alone flowing like water, even keeping it stable was strenuous.

She pressed her finger against the bark, attempting to mimic Ryo's smooth, unhindered touch.

"Buzz." The chakra, like a small bird hitting an iron plate, suddenly trembled, emitted a faint whir, then dissipated.

Not even a mark was left on the bark.

"Ah!" Kushina exclaimed in frustration, stamping her foot hard, her canvas gaiter boots thudding against the ground.

"Chakra is superficial, impatient, and unstable." Ryo's verdict was merciless. "Control, rotten."

That word again.

Kushina immediately bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "What rotten! This is my first time seriously learning the Rasengan!"

Her fists clenched, her teeth grinding audibly. She was angry enough to punch the tree, but instead she growled, "I'll prove it!"

Ryo's expression didn't soften. He simply turned toward another trunk and said flatly, "If you can't control it here, practice the basics. Go climb a tree."

Kushina glared, cheeks puffed, but didn't argue further. She stomped toward the nearest large tree.

She kicked off her mud-stained boots with a huff, planting her bare feet firmly on the grass. The morning dew clung to her skin as she flexed her toes, grounding herself.

"Watch carefully," Ryo ordered. "Gather chakra to your soles. Distribute it evenly. Too little, you'll slip. Too much, the bark will tear and you'll fall harder."

"Tch, I know that much!" Kushina shot back, but she bent down, focusing as she gathered chakra at her feet.

The gravel on the training ground dug into her feet, but her smugness soared like it had wings.

She glanced sideways at Ryo, who stood with his arms crossed.

She clung to a thick tree trunk high off the ground, held there purely by chakra on her right foot.

She deliberately paused for two seconds, building anticipation.

Then, her left foot slowly lifted, moving so sluggishly it looked like a slow-motion close-up.

Her toes finally pressed lightly against the rough bark, a faint thud sounding unusually soft.

A tiny, triumphant tsk escaped her throat, smugness overflowing in her expression.

The next second, her foot landed on empty air.

Creak. Snap.

The thick branch beneath her suddenly broke. The groan of the rotten wood sounded like it was mocking her failure.

"Ah!" Her short scream was torn apart by the wind.

The sky tumbled violently, the coarse, sandy ground lunging up before her eyes.

It's over. Kushina closed her eyes in despair.

The expected crash never came.

The whistling wind suddenly stilled, and an overwhelming force abruptly clamped around her waist.

Bang.

Her back slammed into a scorching wall, Ryo's chest.

Through the thin training uniform, the heat made Kushina jolt.

What flooded her senses next was the heartbeat deep within his chest, steady and powerful, each beat echoing through her spine.

Kushina opened her eyes in alarm, her gaze colliding with Ryo's hard, clenched jawline, which still held a trace of surprise he hadn't had time to hide.

Her waist was encircled by one of his arms. His other hand firmly cradled her right knee, his grip steady and unyielding.

Her left foot hung uselessly in the air, inches from his face.

The air instantly froze.

The rustling of leaves stopped. The birdsong ceased.

The entire training ground seemed drained of sound, leaving only the rhythm of two heartbeats, loud and heavy in the silence.

Every stiff line of their bodies, every rise and fall of their chests, was clear.

Where her waist met him, it was all taut, solid muscle. His hand on her knee carried undeniable strength.

The sudden closeness overwhelmed Kushina. Embarrassment rushed through her body, wiping away all her earlier smugness.

"Still… not… letting go!" she said quickly, trying to cover her fluster.

Ryo finally released her and set her back on the ground, steady and controlled.

Kushina wobbled before regaining her balance. She glanced at him, saw his slightly awkward expression, and felt her own face heat up.

Then, unable to hold it in, she suddenly laughed.

"Pfft hahaha!" Her crisp, bright laugh startled birds from the branches above.

Ryo looked at her sudden laughter and felt speechless. "Alright, that's enough for today. See you later." He disappeared into the edge of the forest in a few bounds.

Training ended there.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 39: Cold And Hard

Kushina's crisp, bright laughter hadn't quite faded even after Ryo's figure had already disappeared into the edge of the dense forest.

Kushina held one hand to her stomach, which ached from laughing, and rested the other casually on the rough trunk of the large tree that had nearly caused her fall.

The burning heat on her face hadn't receded, a blush like a ripe cherry tomato spreading from her cheeks all the way to her delicate earlobes.

She took several deep breaths of the air, fragrant with the scent of grass, before she managed to suppress the triumphant euphoria that had been crashing wildly in her chest.

The skin-to-skin contact in that instant had made her heart tremble with heat, filling her with an unprecedented sense of fulfillment.

Mikoto truly was a genius!

…

Meanwhile…

In the Hokage's office, the light was mostly blocked by heavy curtains, leaving only a dim, yellow glow from an antique chandelier above the desk area, illuminating the swirling smoke in shadowy relief.

Hiruzen sat in a large chair, the soft light of the crystal ball reflecting on his deeply furrowed face.

At this moment, the sphere no longer displayed the training ground but the scene of Kushina and Ryo's practice, and that sudden "body slam" lingered in everyone's minds, silently exerting pressure.

A suffocating, almost palpable tension hung in the air, thick enough to condense into droplets.

The Third Hokage "clacked, clacked" on his pipe, the sound particularly rough and grating in the silence, as grey smoke continuously spiraled upward.

To his left sat Utatane Koharu, her face stern and unyielding.

"Hiruzen!" Utatane Koharu could no longer contain herself. Her plump finger stabbed toward the crystal ball, her voice sharp and shrill, her face pale with anger.

"How much longer will you indulge her?! Uzumaki Kushina is the future Nine-Tails Jinchuriki! The village's most important strategic weapon!" She was practically roaring, spittle almost splattering onto the crystal ball.

"Look! Look at how she's behaving! Flirting and getting entangled with that Ryo! Is this the temperament a weapon should have? A Jinchuriki should not get involved in such romantic entanglements! Their hearts must be as cold and hard as stone! What's more—"

She abruptly turned to Mitokado Homura, the fire in her eyes burning hot. "You and I both know how dangerous it is when a Jinchuriki gives birth! Even a slight emotional fluctuation could lead to utter disaster! Who will bear that risk?!"

Her chest heaved violently, her agitation boiling over.

Mitokado Homura pushed up his glasses, which had slid down his nose, his brow furrowing slightly, but his voice remained calm: "Koharu, you are being overly emotional. Are you unaware of Ryo's identity? Tsunade's direct disciple, someone approved and personally appointed by Mito-sama, a direct descendant of the Hokage lineage. Teaching Kushina and enhancing the Jinchuriki's combat power is Mito-sama's intention, and also a guarantee of the village's safety. Besides, Kushina is still young, pure of heart. When young people interact, a few minor incidents do not mean anything."

"Incidents? Homura, are you blind?" Utatane Koharu's voice trembled with rage as she pointed at the two figures in the crystal ball. "Look at Ryo! Was that moment when he grabbed the Jinchuriki's waist an accident?! And now! Look at him…"

"Enough!"

The Third Hokage brought his pipe down hard on the edge of the table with a dull thud, forcefully suppressing Utatane Koharu's simmering anger.

"Mito-sama has her own considerations!" His gaze, sharp as a blade, swept over Utatane Koharu's indignant face.

"Ryo teaching Kushina to train and strengthen her abilities, allowing her to better adapt to her future role, is precisely what we want to see! As for emotions…"

He choked slightly on his smoke, his tone becoming meaningful. "That is also part of a bond. A strong bond is what can truly restrain a Tailed Beast."

In the depths of Hiruzen's eyes, a hint of weariness and calculation flickered, which even he himself did not wish to dwell on.

That chaotic scene in the crystal ball, the boy's clumsy panic and the girl's bright laughter, was too dazzling, piercing through some unspoken pretenses.

He even involuntarily thought of Mito's words, cold to the point of ruthlessness: sacrifice and control are always paramount.

His gaze refocused on the image in the crystal ball, where traces of blue chakra still lingered—the residue left by a Rasengan cast without hand signs.

A subtle glint, hard to detect, flashed deep in his eyes.

"You may leave."

Compared to those minor details, the Third Hokage paid more attention to that ninjutsu, the Rasengan executed without hand signs.

Utatane Koharu's chest rose and fell violently, her face alternating between red and white. Finally, under the oppressive gaze of Hiruzen, she stomped her foot and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Mitokado Homura gave the crystal ball a deep look before silently withdrawing.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 40: Training Continues

Several months passed, and in the exclusive training ground deep within the Forest of Death, time seemed compressed and ignited by an invisible hand.

"Hey! Ryo! Take this!" A clear, laughing voice broke through the morning mist.

Kushina, like red lightning, leapt from a branch, her training shoe whistling through the air toward Ryo's face. The angle wasn't complicated, but the speed and power already rivaled most Chūnin.

Ryo didn't even lift an eyelid. His body had already calculated the trajectory.

He sidestepped, twisted his waist, and his left hand, like an iron clamp, caught Kushina's slender but powerful ankle.

There was no wasted motion. His strength was measured and controlled, deflecting the attack with ease.

But Kushina never aimed to land a simple kick.

The instant he grabbed her ankle, her body spun with momentum, like a vine twisting in the wind. Her other leg swept toward his knee joint with fierce spiraling force.

The movement was fluid, carrying a faint breeze. Her shifting center of gravity brought her soft waist nearly brushing his chest.

Bang!

A dull thud echoed.

The strike was stopped cleanly, Ryo standing solid as a rooted tree.

But Kushina wasn't done.

Her blocked leg bent suddenly, her knee driving toward his lower abdomen.

The distance closed instantly.

He could see beads of sweat on her nose, his own frown reflected in her light blue eyes, the way she bit her lip in concentration.

Her breath rushed against him, carrying the scent of morning dew, sweat, and the stubborn vitality of a girl who never held back.

Ryo didn't retreat.

His abs tightened. His grip on her ankle pulled sharply downward toward his chest.

At the same time, he leaned back slightly, narrowly dodging the sharp knee strike with the smallest motion possible.

Kushina's ankle stayed locked in his grip, and her own momentum sent her stumbling forward, her balance gone.

"Ahn~" Her cry carried three parts panic, seven parts mischief.

Ryo's pupils narrowed. That sound was planned.

Before she could really fall, his arm jerked upward, hauling her half a foot off the ground. The movement gave her just enough time to regain balance.

Kushina's other foot touched down lightly. She twisted in mid-air like a red butterfly and landed steady.

Both of them let out a quiet breath.

The air between them tightened again.

Kushina stood still, her ankle tingling with the memory of his grip, the strength and rough calluses on his palm. Even through her sock, the sensation spread up her body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

And she noticed the pause—the fraction of hesitation before he let go. That wasn't the motion of someone simply blocking.

Her eyes locked on him.

Ryo had already released her and turned away, grabbing a water bottle and drinking with sharp, deliberate gulps.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, his movements forceful, as if smothering something. His broad back, muscles taut under the thin black training uniform, faced her.

"Reckless. Charging in close with no stable footing?"

But Kushina caught the faint roughness in his tone.

She stepped closer, tilting her head with a sly smile. "What's there to be afraid of? Ryo-sensei caught me, didn't he?"

Her tone was teasing, her eyes sharp like a fox. "And… you didn't dodge just now, did you? Think my move was good?"

She tiptoed, closing the gap further, her scent of sweat and sunshine almost brushing against his neck.

Ryo's hand froze mid-drink.

He turned suddenly, their faces nearly colliding.

The distance shrank to dangerous proximity.

Kushina's heart skipped a beat.

His black eyes, close enough to drown her, burned like a suppressed volcano and froze like a bottomless abyss all at once, overwhelming in their intensity.

Time paused.

Only the forest breeze remained, and their breathing, hers quick, his measured.

Then Ryo let out a faint "hmph," an unimpressed nasal sound.

He raised his hand and flicked her forehead, not hard, not soft.

"Ow!" Kushina yelped, covering her forehead and hopping back. Her cheeks puffed out. "You block of wood! That hurt!"

"Serves you right," Ryo said flatly. The overwhelming pressure from earlier vanished, leaving only his usual sternness. "If you've got the energy for stupid tricks, put it into your pathetic Rasengan practice."

He reached for another bottle of water.

Kushina didn't feel discouraged by his remarks.

Her inner self cheered wildly. Mikoto didn't lie. This so-called block of wood was changing, bit by bit.

He didn't dodge, didn't shove her away, and even flicked her forehead with an almost casual familiarity.

That was progress.

(To be continued.)

...

Support me on P/treon to read up to 100+ advanced chapters on this and 10 other fics of mine

https://p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves

(Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 41: Hand-Holding Practice?

The training props Ryo prepared were all laid out: tough water balloons and stronger rubber balls. Each stage was an extreme test of chakra "quality" and "control."

Kushina's chakra reserves were vast, but in the balance of "refinement" and "precision," she was still an unpolished gem.

The first stage, breaking water balloons, gave her plenty of trouble.

Her chakra release was unstable. Sometimes the water wouldn't budge, other times she forced it too hard, making the balloon burst and soak her. Each time, Ryo's evaluation was merciless: "Useless."

Her light blue eyes would immediately well up with tears, staring at him with an aggrieved look. "Who's useless… I'm just trying to get a feel for it… Can't you encourage me?"

Wanting to give her a little taste of her own medicine, Ryo walked a few steps closer with a blank expression, pointing at the deflated water balloon in her hand. "A feel? The water flow is chaotic. Chakra is spilling in at least three places. Is that your version of control?"

His tone was flat, but his gaze cut straight through her watery look.

Though his eyes betrayed faint ripples deep inside, his expression remained calm and unshaken.

"You…" Kushina faltered, her tears drying instantly as she glared at him in frustration.

But just as she was about to try again, Ryo spoke. "The chakra on the left is scattered. Pull back three parts of the force to your palm. Try again."

Kushina froze, but followed his instruction instinctively.

Buzz… the water flow inside the balloon instantly became far more orderly and violent.

Though it still burst in the end, the process was clearly different.

"It seems… I'm getting a feel for it?" Kushina's eyes lit up.

This scene repeated itself often.

Kushina's Rasengan training advanced rapidly, from water balloons to rubber balls. Each breakthrough came with her feigned complaints and Ryo's sharp critiques, paired with precise corrections.

A silent understanding grew behind the words "useless" and "clumsy."

Now, Kushina stood at the final stage.

On a thick tree trunk, there was a bowl-sized indentation.

The central fibers were spirally torn apart, curling inward.

The edges were charred, and remnants of violent chakra still lingered.

This was Kushina's Rasengan (prototype) result—though not yet stable, its destructive power was undeniable.

"See Ryo! I told you I could do it!" Kushina's face was flushed with excitement, sweat glistening on her forehead. She tilted her head back proudly, chin raised at Ryo, who leaned against another trunk with crossed arms.

Sweat slid down her neckline, catching the sunlight.

Ryo's gaze swept across the spiral mark. A flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes, gone in an instant. "So-so." The words were short, stingy as ever. He stepped forward, stopping before her.

His tall frame cast a shadow, carrying the smell of soil and fresh leaves.

Kushina's heartbeat quickened. Was it going to be more close-range instruction?

But Ryo simply extended his right hand, palm open, pointing at her. "Release. Focus your chakra."

Kushina froze. Condense a Rasengan against his palm? That was harder than hitting a tree. The smaller target demanded tighter control.

"Scared?" Ryo raised an eyebrow.

"Who's scared!" Kushina snapped back, her competitive fire instantly flaring. She inhaled deeply, concentrating. A pale blue chakra glow spun in her hand, compressing, condensing into a fist-sized unstable sphere.

It hummed loudly, light flickering, edges leaking unstable chakra threads.

"Unstable form. Weak compression." Ryo's voice came from beside her, his breath brushing her temple.

Kushina's expression tightened as she tried to stabilize the chakra. But the harder she pressed, the more unstable it became, spinning violently, threatening to explode. Sweat rolled down her forehead, sliding along the bridge of her nose.

Just as the Rasengan nearly burst apart—

A large hand pressed firmly over hers.

Scalding. Steady. Powerful.

Not an attack, but an unyielding hold over her palm, locking her chakra in place like iron.

Buzz!

Kushina's mind went blank.

It wasn't the chakra that exploded—it was her pulse, her breath, her blood. The heat from his palm shot up her arm like fire, slamming into her chest.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The volatile chakra sphere froze for an instant.

She could feel the roughness of his calluses, the hardness of his muscles, every detail of his grip.

That searing touch was more direct, more forceful, more overwhelming than any accidental contact before.

"The core is here, not scattered." Ryo's voice was low and steady, guiding rather than coaxing.

His fingers shifted slightly against the back of her hand, controlling the chaotic flow with ease, steering its energy as if it were his own.

Kushina stood frozen.

Her cheeks, neck, and ears flushed crimson. Blood roared under her skin.

A thought screamed in her head: He's doing this on purpose!

"Focus." Ryo's sharp command cut through her haze. His grip tightened, pulling her hand inward.

The force of his control was absolute.

Her stray thoughts scattered instantly, dragged back to the Rasengan in her palm.

Under his firm hold, the violent chakra, like a flood meeting its dam, suddenly found its path.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 42: Release the Hand Already

The light suddenly intensified.

Then, like a tamed wild horse, it converged, collapsed, and condensed in an instant.

A smaller, brighter, but extremely contained and terrifyingly stable pure blue energy sphere appeared in the center of their tightly clasped palms.

It was no longer a turbulent nebula, but a miniature storm core, compressed to the extreme and packed with destructive force.

It spun at high speed, emitting a deep, powerful hum. The surrounding air was compressed so tightly that a visible transparent vortex formed.

It was done.

A stable, condensed prototype of the Rasengan.

"Do not let it dissipate." Ryo's voice was low, with a hint of barely perceptible tension.

His hand still firmly covered hers, as if they were sharing this dangerous energy sphere.

Kushina completely forgot about the Rasengan itself.

All her senses were occupied by that astonishingly hot hand enveloping hers, guiding her.

His breath brushed her hair as he spoke, the subtle pressure of his chest almost against her back, all of it burned into her senses.

Her body trembled slightly, not from fear, but from this unprecedented, heart-racing, blood-stirring closeness.

Could he feel it? What would he think?

Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

The training ground was silent, with only the deep, steady hum of the Rasengan and the increasingly clear heartbeats of the two, intertwined and almost indistinguishable. Thump, thump, thump…

Like two birds trapped in a small cage, colliding and trying to break free.

This damned tacit understanding.

Ryo clearly felt the delicate, searing warmth of the back of her hand, and the slight sweat from tension.

The air felt thick like honey, sweet and suffocating, with a hidden thrill.

No one spoke, no one moved.

Ryo's gaze stayed on their joined hands and the incredibly stable Rasengan.

Kushina lowered her head, her flushed cheeks almost buried in her chest, but her senses were like antennae, frantically catching his breath, his warmth, and the pressure of his hand.

He had not let go. He had not pushed her away.

This realization shot through her like an electric current, leaving her dizzy with delight.

In the end, the Rasengan's own energy consumption broke the stillness.

Maintaining a stable form required immense mental focus, and Kushina, having just mastered it, could not sustain it for long.

The stable blue light flickered.

Ryo reacted instantly.

"That's enough."

He spoke quietly, and at the same time, his hand finally left the back of hers.

In an instant, the scorching heat in her palm vanished. A strong sense of loss, mixed with the relief of release, surged into her chest.

Kushina felt a chill on the back of her hand. The sensation of being enveloped, guided, and controlled was withdrawn, leaving only cool air and clear sweat. Was it hers, or his as well?

She pulled back her still trembling hand, almost reluctantly.

The condensed Rasengan lost its final support. Its light flashed and went out, dissolving into specks of blue that faded into the air.

Ryo stepped back, keeping a safe distance.

"The form is there, but the duration is too short. Refinement and instant burst are lacking." His voice returned to calm.

"Keep practicing. Do not get cocky just because you got it once."

Kushina, blushing, couldn't look straight at Ryo, but she felt her heart like a tipped honey pot.

He held my hand for so long and did not pull away.

A surge of accomplishment mixed with sweetness made her want to scream.

She did not snap back or tease like before. She raised the hand he had covered and gently clenched her fist, as if the heat still lingered.

A soft, proud smile appeared on her face. Her voice was clear.

"Got it, Ryo-sensei. I won't let you look down on me." That "sensei" no longer carried teasing or malice, but a sweet, sticky undertone only they understood.

The scent of sweat from their training still hung in the air, and invisible threads were already quietly coiling, drawing the two figures closer.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 43: Graduation Day

Just as Ryo and Kushina were in their ambiguous back-and-forth, time flew by.

Graduation season arrived.

The relationship between Ryo and Kushina was stuck at the critical point of being more than friends but less than lovers.

On the day of the graduation exam, the heat wave was so intense it felt like smoke was rising from the cracks in people's bones.

The air at the Konoha Ninja Academy training ground was so heavy it seemed filled with lead dust, and every breath hurt the lungs.

Cicadas screamed in the trees, each shrill cry slicing through the oppressive silence like a death warrant.

The center of the grounds, under the July noon sun, was a blinding pale white that made people dizzy.

Everyone in the stands twisted their necks to stare at the figure at the edge. Wearing the Hokage's robe and puffing on a pipe, it was none other than Sarutobi Hiruzen.

His presence was a needle to the heart of the crowd. Whispers boiled like oil doused with cold water, crackling twice before dying in their throats, leaving a silence choked by awe.

"The Third… is he really here?"

"Idiot. This class has his disciple's disciple, Namikaze Minato, and that… monster Ryo."

The buzzing died completely when Sarutobi Hiruzen's indifferent gaze swept over them.

All attention turned to the two figures in the arena.

Namikaze Minato stood under the scorching sun.

His golden hair flashed sharply.

He stood straight as a javelin. Deep in his blue pupils, like charcoal sealed in a furnace for two years, a fire burned fiercely, finally breaking through the lid to lock onto the target opposite him.

His lips were pressed tight and pale. A faint tremor traced his jawline. It was not fear, but the humiliation and resentment of more than a dozen crushing defeats over the past two years, piled like a mountain and finally finding a crack to explode through.

The name carved into his bones—Kamiyama Ryo.

An iceberg that never melted hung over his "genius" title. The shadow was so deep it made him breathless.

Every time.

He gave everything every time. The result?

The outcome never changed. He was always the one on the ground, face bruised and swollen.

That bottomless despair had almost dragged him into the abyss countless times.

Not to mention…

Minato's eyes, like a snake's, could not help but drift to the sidelines.

Fiery red, like a flame.

Kushina stood on tiptoe, trying to stuff a candy into Ryo's pocketed hand. Her little face was flushed, stubborn to the end.

Ryo's face was expressionless, like a white porcelain mask. The hand in his pocket did not move, not even a fingertip.

She felt it was not enough, waved her little fist, and gestured angrily.

Finally, Ryo flicked her hand away, impatient. She exploded, jumping up to pounce and strangle his arm.

Ryo simply extended a slender finger and pressed it lightly against her sweaty forehead, like flipping a spring switch.

The red-haired chili pepper could only stand there, madly punching the air, unable to reach him.

But her sea-blue eyes stayed on Ryo, filled with pure, blazing joy and dependence, so strong it seemed to burn.

Phew.

Minato's heart felt pierced by a poisoned scorpion's sting, the pain spreading through his blood.

He suddenly turned away and took a deep breath of hot air, his throat stinging.

His hands clenched at his sides, nails digging crescents into his palms.

Uzumaki Kushina.

He had chewed on that name in his mind for two whole years.

Her gaze, her smile, every bit of that fierce vitality… would always, always be alive only for Ryo.

No matter how much progress Minato made or how many praises he received from the instructor, in Uzumaki Kushina's ocean-blue eyes, he would always be just the long, blurry, insignificant shadow cast by Ryo on the ground.

Today was not just about winning or losing.

Today, he would shatter the iceberg in his heart and drag that damned dignity out of the shadows.

He had to win.

Otherwise, he would never escape this demon barrier in his lifetime.

At the other end of the arena, the atmosphere was completely different.

Ryo's tall frame leaned lazily against a low wooden post at the edge of the training ground, like he was lounging on the porch at home.

His fiery red hair covered half his forehead. His eyelids drooped, half open, half closed. Through the narrow slits, his gaze was empty, unreadable.

The stares, the whispers, even the exploding battle intent, seemed separated by thick glass, unrelated to him.

It was the complete laziness born from crushing everything.

A graduation exam today, just a stamp on a useless academy life.

It was rare for his real self to show up in the past two years. The one sitting in class every day was only a shadow clone to deal with school.

If Minato knew, his worldview might collapse.

As for the flames in Minato's eyes, Ryo felt they were less annoying than the cicadas dying above his head.

Ryo knew the original timeline. This yellow-haired kid would be an incredible Fourth Hokage. For the village, he would sacrifice himself and his wife.

A hero.

On that point, Ryo acknowledged it, and still found it unpleasant.

It was dangerous. A man ruthless enough to include himself in the collateral.

Ryo knew himself. He was a practiced egoist who protected only his own.

Otherwise, why did he not apply for early graduation, or just let a shadow clone handle the academy?

Because Ryo had no intention of becoming anyone's tool.

For Konoha?

For the Will of Fire?

Ridiculous.

Get close to Namikaze Minato?

He was not some clueless cosplayer ignoring reality.

He had a system.

The Strongest Legacy System.

He did not need to cling to anyone.

That yellow-haired kid with spiky hair?

At best, a strong passerby.

He had no time to think about him, and no interest in a second look.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 44: Minato’s Killer Combo

"Kamiyama Ryo! Namikaze Minato!"

Kimura Shū's voice cut through the stuffy air, a hoarseness in his throat like a string about to snap.

Minato's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the bitterness rising in his chest, his eyes suddenly sharp.

Each step he took on the ground sounded like a heavy war drum, pounding on everyone's hearts and making their scalps tingle.

And Ryo?

Lazily, he straightened his back from the wooden stake and slowly walked into the center of the field.

His hands?

Still buried deep in the pockets of his black pants.

That casual air was like taking a stroll after dinner to help digestion.

"Both sides, form the Confrontation Seal!" Kimura Shū's voice trembled, almost cracking at the end.

Minato's expression was solemn, his movements precise. His right thumb pressed against his index finger, left palm turned upward, forming a standard Confrontation Seal. Like a believer receiving an oracle, sacred and dignified.

Ryo paused.

His right hand finally, reluctantly, painfully slowly slid out of his pocket.

No hand seals, no killing aura.

He simply raised his arm half-heartedly, flicked his index finger with his thumb nail, the motion casual and even insulting.

Countless gazes locked onto that lazy motion.

Uchiha Mikoto stood just behind Kushina, silent like a shadow.

She tilted her head slightly, making space for Kushina's excitedly swaying red hair. Her gaze fell on Ryo's fingertip movement, so casual it seemed unreal.

Her delicate face was calm and unruffled.

But beneath her dark sleeves, her hands gripped her clothes so hard that the fabric was deeply indented, her knuckles turning bloodless white.

And Kushina?

Her excitement was like insects crawling through her veins. She rubbed her palms together, her small mouth opening and closing silently. "Ryo! Victory!" The lip movement was clear.

Seeing her closest companion pour out such pure, almost worshipful fervor toward that figure's back…

An indescribable bitterness swelled in Mikoto's chest, sour and aching.

That towering figure, sharp like a blade, hadn't he also left an unforgettable mark in her naive heart, keeping her awake at night?

In youth, who didn't have a first love?

But he could only be Kushina's sun.

Mikoto forced that inappropriate flutter down with all her strength, turning her head toward the swaying tree shadows in the distance.

Only by suppressing the storm in her chest with icy self-control could she keep her face expressionless.

"Begin!"

Kimura Shū's sharp shout was like a fuse lit, sparks instantly igniting.

The spot where Minato had stood blurred, erased like chalk under an eraser.

His figure dissolved.

Only golden shockwave ripples remained, his terrifying speed tearing the air apart.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Ear-splitting sonic booms!

Almost at the same time, three figures appeared, each with golden light and killing intent, lunging at Ryo from the front, left, and right like poisoned golden arrows fired from a giant crossbow.

Kage Bunshin! The clones carried the same chakra fluctuations as the original. No delay, perfect coordination.

A flawless execution, using shadow clones to their maximum potential in real combat.

"Three! There are three Minatos!"

"Damn! That's more than twice as fast as last month!"

"Kage Bunshin can be used like this? I'll be damned!"

The stands exploded in shouts of shock, students craning their necks, eyes bulging.

The assault only grew fiercer.

The three lunging Minatos left golden afterimages in mid-air. Their four arms had already split into six blurs of light.

A violent crimson aura of Fire Style.

A sharp azure edge of Wind Style.

Both almost simultaneously enveloped their arms, fire snakes wildly dancing on their left, wind blades forming on their right. No hand seals. Pure chakra nature manipulation.

"Fire!" The central Minato roared.

The crimson chakra on his left arm compressed into a blazing fireball, the size of a head, its destructive heat roaring through the air like a meteor straight at Ryo's face. The air twisted violently, the smell of burning filling the field.

"Wind!" The clone on the left overlapped his shout.

The azure chakra condensed into a terrifying wind cone, small as a bowl's mouth, shrieking like a soul-chasing poisoned needle, shooting at Ryo's waist. Its trajectory intersected perfectly with the fireball's outer edge.

Whoosh—Boom!

The compressed wind cone slammed into the crimson fireball, instantly detonating it several times over. The crimson burst into a blinding white blaze that seemed capable of incinerating everything.

A destructive shockwave of white fire mixed with countless wind blades, like a giant net of death. The hellish wind and fire swallowed everything in front and to the left of Ryo.

Scorching heat waves distorted vision.

And just as that blinding light devoured sight—

The clone on the right vanished, his body dissolving into the scorching air like a ghost, leaving no trace.

The real killing blow was hidden behind the incandescent curtain. A stealth strike, a perfect feint.

Minato had displayed the extreme of his current strength from the start: overwhelming taijutsu speed, clone feints, and the fused use of Fire and Wind chakra.

This was no longer the level of a mere academy graduate.

The stands fell silent.

Every spectator was frozen, unable to breathe.

Even Hiruzen's hand holding his pipe paused. His cloudy old eyes fixed on the center of that raging wind-and-fire hell, on the red-haired boy who still seemed motionless.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 45: Desperate Trump Card

"Beautiful! That combo is flawless!"

"Wind-Fire Combo! Overpowered! Is it beyond C-rank already?"

"All blind spots sealed! There's even a killer move hidden behind! Minato-kun… is too strong!"

On the training ground, gasps erupted like waves.

All the students watched with flushed faces, completely ignited by Namikaze Minato's precise tactics and fierce offensive.

On the high platform, Hiruzen finally let a faint smile curl on his lips, the smoke from his pipe curling upwards.

A cold glint flashed in his eyes, carrying a trace of imperceptible appreciation. Good kid. Perfect timing, chakra control is flowing smoothly. Jiraiya finally did something right. This talent, this calmness… he's a good prospect.

On the field, the situation shifted in an instant.

The scorching white fireball, capable of devouring everything, and the violent wind blade tearing through the air roared like demons, threatening to shred the lone red-haired figure in the center of the arena, Ryo, into ashes. Not even dust left behind.

A hair's breadth away. Life hanging by a thread.

Ryo moved.

Facing an overwhelming combination that would trouble even a Jōnin, he merely raised his right hand.

That's right.

The very hand that hadn't received candy from Kushina, the one always kept in his pocket, stayed in his pocket.

He simply used his free left hand, raising it casually.

Fingers spread, palm forward.

No dazzling hand seals.

No complex jutsu.

He didn't even bother changing his expression.

Boom!

An earth-shattering roar.

The ground beneath his feet trembled violently.

The twin dragons of wind and fire slammed into the air in front of Ryo's palm.

Where was the expected gruesome scene of flesh flying, bones snapping, blood spraying?

Nowhere.

The furious energy, enough to seriously wound a Jōnin, slammed into an invisible, mountain-heavy barrier.

Shockwaves. Explosions. Scorching heat that could melt steel. Razor wind blades that could cut a man into ribbons. All of it was nailed in place by an absolute, immovable force in front of that palm. Not an inch advanced.

All the students' eyes nearly popped out.

Ryo's hand was steady as an ancient boulder. Space itself twisted and compressed around his open palm.

The roaring flames and shrieking wind blades fought desperately, yet couldn't even stir a ripple against the domain formed by monstrous chakra and his terrifying body.

Why? Because he was strong enough.

He hadn't been pummeled by Tsunade-hime's fists for nothing these past two years.

That experience, being beaten half to death, had long since taught him how to use brute strength violently.

On top of that was the physique inherited from Shanks, and the abyss-like sea of chakra inside him.

Quantity had long since become quality. It had sublimated.

What ninjutsu? What tactics?

In the face of absolute power, all of it was paper.

"Empty… empty-handed… he blocked it?!"

"Shit! That's a B-rank combination ninjutsu! He pressed it down with one hand?!"

The stands erupted. This time it wasn't admiration, but fear. Gasps of cold air echoed one after another. Many girls' faces turned pale.

As the explosion smoke and blinding flames formed a blazing curtain, the true killing move came.

A figure as fast as golden lightning tore through the smoke like a phantom.

From Ryo's blind spot, the rear right corner, where the clone had disappeared before, it struck with a piercing attack.

Only now did they realize—this was the real body. Minato's real body.

That devastating wind and fire assault just now?

A feint. All of it was a feint, just to create this fatal strike.

The moment the enemy "hard-counters" a frontal ultimate move, drained of strength, unable to respond with new power… that was the instant to kill.

Minato's body turned into a golden streak.

Speed, surpassing his limits.

The kunai in his hand was no longer ordinary steel.

A violent, eerie blue lightning glow wrapped tightly around the blade, crackling, hissing with a shriek that stabbed into the heart.

Lightning Release: Ground Flash!

Not a jutsu, but pure destructive lightning compressed and bound to the kunai, forged into one killing strike.

An earth-shattering stab.

This was his trump card, his final defiance.

Two years of grueling training.

Two years of humiliation.

Kushina's sparkling eyes whenever she looked at Ryo.

All of it turned into a silent roar in Minato's chest, driving this strike. Ryo, be defeated! I will shatter the wall that is you!

The kunai tip, carrying lightning that could pierce everything, condensed all of Minato's spirit and rage, all his hope.

The timing and angle were flawless. Ruthless. Directly aimed at the unguarded back of Ryo's heart.

In Minato's eyes, the light of victory burst brilliantly. I won! This time…

But.

Just as the lightning-wrapped kunai tip brushed the fibers of Ryo's shirt, the warmth of his body close beneath—

Ryo's body, steady as a mountain, didn't shift an inch.

Only the bronzed muscle of his back, the suffocatingly thick latissimus dorsi, rippled once.

The next second.

Clang! Crackle-crackle!

There was no sound of flesh pierced.

Only a hideous screech that set teeth on edge, like a rusty saw grinding on indestructible alloy.

The kunai tip, forged from Minato's will, wrapped in lightning, bent instantly. The edge curled. The blade ruined.

And then—

The compressed Lightning Release chakra, lethal enough to kill a Jōnin in a flash?

Pop.

Like a bubble crushed by an invisible hand, it vanished.

The eerie blue sparks scattered instantly, gone without a trace.

Boom.

The light of determination and two years of burning will in Minato's eyes shattered like fragile glass.

In its place, overwhelming astonishment, helpless confusion, and a freezing despair, like falling endlessly into an abyss.

How… is… that… possible?!

Minato's mind was blank, only those words echoing in the void.

(To be continued.)

Chapter Text

Hi guys, please do check out my new Naruto book: Naruto Reborn as a Daimyo. Thank you in advance.

Chapter 46: Casual Toss

Snap!

A cold, hard sensation, like an iron clamp seizing his wrist, shot through him. Excruciating pain flared.

Ryo's hand, the same one that had just crushed the kunai and lightning, had at some unknown point, like a ghost, already wrapped around from behind him, moving faster than Minato's nerves could react.

Precise. Ruthless. It locked onto the pulse point of his outstretched wrist.

Five fingers tightened.

Immovable, as if welded shut.

Minato felt his entire arm, half his body, instantly locked by an unimaginable, irresistible force. He had become a matchstick cast into a ten-thousand-ton steel ingot.

Ryo did not even bother to fully turn his head.

He merely tilted his face slightly, almost dismissively, as if shooing a fly, glancing back with his peripheral vision.

Then, the hand gripping Minato's wrist, it was not a technique.

He simply, contemptuously, threw it downward, like tossing a bag of trash.

"Ugh!" A terrifying, unreasonable force, like a bursting celestial river, surged through Minato's body.

"Wah!" Agonizing pain exploded in his chest and abdomen. His bones felt instantly crushed. His strength drained in an instant. He truly felt like a broken sack.

Whoosh, boom.

Crack. Clang.

His body flew like a cannonball, slamming into a solid wooden stake as thick as a bowl, used to reinforce the training ground. The stake burst apart with a resounding crack, splinters shooting like shrapnel.

He then smashed into the hard ground without mercy.

Bang.

Dust billowed like a small sandstorm. A shallow pit was gouged out of the earth.

"Cough, cough… pfft…" Minato curled at the bottom of the pit, as disheveled as a dying wild dog, coughing continuously. Blood foam mixed with sweat. Dirt and blood from a cut on his forehead smeared half his once-handsome face.

Everything hurt. His bones groaned. His internal organs felt displaced. A despair, cold to the marrow, spread through his body like poison.

Again, defeated.

No suspense. No dignity. A crushing defeat, trampled underfoot.

Two years of desperate training, day and night sweat and conviction, looked so pathetic, so ridiculous under that casual throw.

The humiliating images of his past dozen failures flashed uncontrollably through his mind like a tide.

Each time Ryo's "clone" looked at him with that indifferen gaze, like at a roadside pebble or dust. Each time he fell, the whispers or mocking chuckles, real or imagined, in his ears.

All that unwillingness, all that accumulation, collapsed under this cold reality, almost grinding his will into dust.

In front of Ryo, he was always a clown, a prancing clown.

Especially in front of her, in front of Kushina.

Hiruzen's pipe paused at his lips.

Wreaths of blue smoke hung for a moment.

His worldly, wise eyes stared solemnly at the red-haired Ryo standing in the center, who had ended the battle with an understatement. Then his gaze swept to Minato coughing blood in the pit, a miserable sight.

Terrifying. A brutish, unreasonable physique, a terrifying chakra reserve, the most basic absolute defense, yet showing the most fundamental power. No hand seals, effortless. Ryo, your talent is inhuman. You are a monster. Minato losing to you is not unfair at all. It is just that the gap is too despairing. I hope it does not shatter the little resilience Minato still has.

As Hokage, a deeper worry settled in Hiruzen's heart, for Minato's state of mind, and even more for the profound potential Ryo displayed, bringing changes even he could not foresee.

"Waaah!"

Just then, a clear cry, filled with explosive joy, like a sharp blade, instantly cut through the dead-silent training ground.

Kushina jumped up from her seat.

Like a lit powder keg, her iconic fiery red hair danced wildly.

Her bright blue eyes shone with extreme excitement and pride that could melt ice.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted with all her strength at Ryo standing like a god in the center.

"See?! I told you Ryo is the strongest! Minato's flashy, sissy tricks are useless! They can't even touch a single hair on Ryo! Ahhh! Ryo! Strongest!"

Her cheeks flushed with excitement, as if she herself had won.

She grabbed Mikoto's arm and shook her madly like a girl who had received her favorite candy, eager to share her joy. "Mikoto! Mikoto, look! I told you Ryo would be fine, didn't I?! Isn't he handsome?! He just went snap like that! He smacked that big fireball and big wind blade and blew them apart! Minato tried a sneak attack? Tsk tsk, he bounced around like a flea and did not even scratch Ryo's skin!"

Mikoto's body tensed the moment Kushina grabbed her.

As if struck by a faint current, then instantly suppressed.

On her fair, beautiful face, the next second, a brilliant smile bloomed, full of "sisterly affection" and surprise, like switching on a perfect mask, enough to intoxicate anyone. "Mhm mhm! I saw it, I saw it! Kushina is absolutely right! Ryo… he is unbelievably strong! Not a normal person at all! Minato-kun… sigh, he really tried his very, very best, and his tactics were perfectly planned… but Ryo… he did not even look serious. The difference is too great."

Her voice was as melodious as a spring, filled with joy and pride for her good friend's beloved.

She even naturally stretched out an arm and embraced Kushina's trembling shoulders, beaming, fully supportive of her good sister.

However.

No one noticed.

In the depths of her obsidian eyes, when her gaze brushed over Ryo's tall, mountain-like figure in the center, a flash of ardent adoration flickered deep within.

"Cough, cough, cough… pfft… cough…" From the shallow pit came harsher, heart-wrenching coughing, filled with pain and the despair of something breaking.

Minato used his only movable elbow to push his upper body from the muddy ground with extreme difficulty and humiliation.

Sweat mixed with blood and mud flowed into his stinging eyes. His vision was a blurry red.

Through the tears and swirling dust, he clearly saw, at the side of the field, that fiery red figure who haunted his dreams now had her back to him.

All her passion, all her excitement, all her dazzling light, was devoted to shaking Uchiha Mikoto, cheering with fanatic joy for the person who had trampled him into the dust and plunged him into the mud.

Cheering for his failure, for his pathetic state, for his bottomless abyss, with unrestrained shouts.

That piercing sound, that posture of cheering, was like a giant chisel smashing through the last wall of his dignity, casting him into an eternal, dark ice prison.

It is over. Everything is over.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 47: Forest Split

The training ground was dead silent.

The air solidified, even the noisiest cicadas went silent.

Everyone, teachers, students, onlookers with snacks, their eyes were fixed on the middle of the field.

Fixed on the thing curled up in that mud pit.

Namikaze Minato.

Sweat, blood, and mud smeared his face. His eyes were swollen to slits, everything he saw tinged with red.

A cough made his throat feel torn from the inside. Every breath was a cramp of bone-deep pain.

"Ugh… cough… pfft…" Bloody foam mixed with mud sprayed out.

He propped himself up on his elbows. His fingernails dug into his palms. Veins throbbed like earthworms under the mud and blood.

Pain? His whole body falling apart?

That was nothing.

What truly burned his heart was humiliation. Two years. Over ten defeats.

That monster, Ryo, did not even bother to lift an eyelid, just casually waved his palm.

"Cough… cough…" Minato stared through the blood-smeared slits at that figure.

That mountain. That nightmare.

Kamiyama Ryo.

Damn it.

He had not even broken a sweat from start to finish.

This was too much.

Hands in his pockets, the same lazy expression as always.

But around him, an invisible pressure. Heavy, cold, making everyone's breathing tight.

"Minato-kun! Give up! Don't, don't force yourself!"

Kimura Shū's voice was sharp and urgent, like a spark.

In an instant, it ignited that barrel of humiliation in Minato's chest that had been suppressed for two years, almost spontaneously combusting.

Force himself? Again, force himself?

I am not a dead last barely scraping by.

"Get out!"

A roar.

A self-destructive, all-consuming fire erupted from his bones. It burned away the pain, burned away reason.

Crack. Clang.

That muddy body was forced upright by a beast-like will. He stood.

"I can fight!"

Bang.

His palms slammed into the bloody mud, exploding it.

Using the force, his muddy body sprang out of the pit in a twisted posture. Like a broken rag doll, swaying, but nailed to the ground. Sweat mixed with blood spattered into the dirt, sizzling.

Those beautiful blue eyes, like the sky, were now blood red. Burning with madness, burning with recklessness. From the look of it, he intended to burn the entire world, along with that monster named Ryo, to ashes.

"Ryo!"

Golden hair flared, burning.

Minato himself became a scorching golden branding iron, shooting out like lightning.

Chakra? He squeezed it out with his life. Veins throbbed, blue sparks hissed under his skin. Retreat? No. Technique? Speed? Defense? All discarded. Just one word, charge.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Every step was a giant stomp. Rocks and dirt burst and rolled. Heavy footsteps beat war drums. Dust billowed, obscuring the sky.

Just a mad bull. Eyes bloodshot, only one thought in his mind, kill him. Even if his body shattered, he would charge.

"Damn it! Minato's gone crazy." Onlooker A was terrified.

"This aura… is he trying to die?!" Onlooker B's voice trembled.

Kushina's faint smile froze harder than ice, a chill rising from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. Even Mikoto had her smile frozen, shock in her eyes impossible to hide.

On the high platform, Hiruzen, puffed on his pipe, brows knotted tight.

At the center of the storm, the one called the monster, Ryo, finally reacted.

Barely perceptibly.

The hand in his right pants pocket did not move.

His left hand rested casually on the Kusanagi at his waist.

Slow.

Extremely slow.

And extremely casual.

That hand, knuckles distinct, seemingly containing endless power, slowly raised the scabbard.

The motion was light and airy, carrying an air of "this is really troublesome."

His eyelids finally opened a sliver.

In the depths of his narrow, empty eyes, a slight ripple appeared.

Like a sesame-sized pebble dropped into a stagnant pool.

His thin lips parted slightly.

The words were few, just three.

"Stubborn and unyielding."

Before the words had even finished, the killing blow arrived.

Minato, burning his life, charged. Five meters. The hot, bloody aura almost sprayed onto Ryo's perpetually calm face.

Ryo's hand on the sheath moved.

Buzz.

Not a slash.

Just a casual, light, even lazy and impatient forward swing at the air.

The blade did not even leave the sheath.

The tip of the sheath sliced out.

Tear.

The air visibly distorted, instantly drained, compressed, and torn by a terrifying force.

Blood light exploded.

A massive crimson slash, condensed like molten magma, appeared out of thin air, erupting from the sheath tip.

Crimson, violent, obscuring the sky.

A terrifying crescent several stories high. The moment it appeared, a tsunami of deathly aura swept out.

Its edges were sharp enough to cut space, to distort light.

Screech.

Silent?

No, it was a shriek so sharp it tore at the soul, flooding everyone's minds. Only the burning red crescent remained on their retinas.

"Holy crap! What was that?!" someone screamed, voice cracking.

"A slash?! No hand seals?! He did not even draw the sword?!" Kimura Shū's eyes almost popped out, his worldview shattered.

That crimson crescent did not cut Minato. It grazed the scalp of the charging Minato.

Boom.

An indescribable, irresistible shockwave, like an invisible giant palm, slammed into Minato.

Condensed power, will, burning life, snapped. Shattered.

All the momentum of his charge went to zero, crushed to powder. His bones groaned. His will collapsed.

"Puff!" A great mouthful of foul blood mixed with fragments of organs sprayed into the sky like a fountain.

His body, like a crushed empty can, flew sideways ten times faster than he had charged.

And his so-called golden lightning, ignited by burning his life, was like a candle in a hurricane before the faint ripples of the crimson crescent, snuffed out with a puff, gone.

No suspense.

Absolute crushing.

As for that crimson crescent that deliberately avoided Minato?

Its target was not Minato at all.

It was purely to make the weak see the chasm-like gap.

Its target was the edge of the training ground, the dense, unsuspecting forest.

Rumble, rumble.

The earth groaned and burst.

The crimson giant blade slashed into the ground.

Sizzle.

There was no crashing sound.

Like a hot knife cutting through hot butter. Silent, yet even more terrifying.

The incredibly solid, ninjutsu-reinforced training ground floor, like paper, was instantly torn into a bottomless, dark gully. Over a meter wide. Its length spanned the entire field.

This was just the beginning.

The soil and rocks on both sides of the gully, the reinforced wooden stakes, vanished the moment the crimson crescent passed. Not even dust remained.

Lingering power?

A destructive hurricane, an unleashed dragon, wildly rampaging, crushing everything in its path.

It spanned out, tearing through the training ground wall, plunging into the primeval forest outside.

Boom. Crash, crash, snap, snap.

A hundred meters away, entire swathes of ancient trees.

Thick, with tangled roots, centuries of growth?

At this moment, they were bundles of fragile wheat stalks, reaped by an invisible scythe.

Devastating. Irresistible.

Where the crimson path passed, trees exploded and shattered, boulders vanished, soil rolled and vaporized.

A shocking corridor of destruction, hundreds of meters long and astonishingly wide, was carved into the earth, like a scar left by a giant's casual strike, deep enough to see bone.

At the end of sight, the once lush green mountains disappeared, replaced by scorched earth, broken trunks, exposed roots, and a massive dust cloud rising like an apocalyptic column.

Buzz.

A destructive backdraft storm rolled from the forest back into the training ground.

Dust mixed with leaves and wood chips covered everything, slamming down.

Whoosh. Bang, bang, bang.

It hit the remaining walls, the stunned faces of the onlookers.

The wind brushed Ryo's clothes.

His left hand still gently held the sheath, as if nothing had happened.

His right hand stayed in his pants pocket.

His eyes returned to their usual indifference.

As if the strike that tore the earth and felled the forest had been a casual flick of dust.

He even frowned slightly, as if the dust blowing back was a nuisance to his peace.

The training ground was dead silent.

A silence more terrifying than before.

Heartbeats pounded in eardrums. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Only the wind sounded, wailing through the massive scar of the flattened forest.

At the edge of the gully, mud tumbled down.

At the side of the field, Namikaze Minato was embedded like rotten wood in a pile of collapsed wall bricks, unconscious and motionless.

In the center of the field, that tall figure still stood.

That terrifying gully that cut across the field and extended to scorched earth, the residual crack in the air still visible in the sunlight, the wailing wind in the dead silence.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 48: At Twelve?!

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Heartbeats stopped. Eyes bulged in unison.

Every onlooker felt their blood freeze, a chill crawling up their spines, coiling around their hearts, constricting their throats.

Thump! Kimura Shū swallowed with difficulty, his face as pale as a death shroud. His lips trembled so much he couldn't utter a single word, his entire body shaking like a sieve.

Kushina's hand-over-mouth pose froze in place, her palms icy cold.

That excited blush she had just moments ago while watching the fight?

Gone. Replaced by boundless terror and a complete blankness.

The eyes that always lit up when following Ryo?

Now filled with unshakable horror. For the first time, she felt what it meant to face an "insurmountable chasm"—an absolute crushing of power levels.

Just one look at that corridor of destruction extending from Ryo's feet into the depths of the forest, and her legs turned to jelly.

Mikoto's noble and aloof facade?

Shattered in an instant.

Her gaze? Never in her life had she been so shaken.

On the high platform, a crisp clack!

Hiruzen's treasured pipe slipped straight out of his agape mouth.

Carrying a few wisps of smoke, it fell onto the cold stone bricks, sparks scattering, tobacco spilling everywhere.

This old man, known as "The Professor," who had crawled his way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, who always kept a steady face? He couldn't hold it anymore.

He stared fixedly at the training ground—at that terrifying gash.

It started just a meter in front of Ryo's feet, wide and bottomless, tearing through the earth, plowing across the entire training field, and savagely plunging into the distant forest.

Just looking at that savage maw, one could almost smell the aura of everything being cut.

The sound of the pipe dropping was jarring in the silence, but it couldn't suppress the thunderclap resounding in Hiruzen's heart.

"Unbelievable…" His throat was dry, and he forced out words heavy as stones. "…The sword wasn't even unsheathed? Just with the scabbard… he unleashed something so condensed? No. That was normal chakra. There's no chakra signature at all!"

He swept his gaze toward the devastated forest edge, his heart pounding, the destructive aftermath making his body tremble.

"…This kid…" Hiruzen's voice was low and deep, carrying a thousand-pound weight and a hint of hidden fear. "…Just this one attack's destructive power and that level of control… Even ordinary Jōnin can't reach this. It's already Kage-level."

Hiruzen's mind exploded instantly.

Whoosh—As the dust settled slightly, the sight at the end of the gash made everyone's hearts almost leap out of their chests.

Minato. He wasn't dead yet.

He hadn't even been directly hit by that crimson crescent.

But his state? A million times worse than death.

He had been flung by the terrifying shockwave from the side of the slash, smashing into the edge of the gash like a cannonball. His internal organs were so shaken they were almost falling apart.

Worst of all was his right arm, broken.

It hung limply at a grotesque angle, not severed only by sheer luck.

This proved one thing—Ryo had intentionally aimed off.

But Minato's boasted speed and strength?

In front of that crimson, dazzling crescent that was as fast as teleportation, they were less than nothing.

Just being grazed by the impact, his entire body felt like it had been stuffed into countless invisible meat grinders.

His clothes were in tatters, his body covered in dense cuts. In some places, bones were visible.

Blood, like spilled water, stained the scorched earth by the gash. His twisted, broken right arm and the deep gash on his left shoulder bled nonstop, bone visible beneath torn flesh.

Curled up there, the intense pain and blood loss made his body shake like a broken bellows, spraying blood foam with every tremor.

He struggled to lift his head, his face smeared with bloody mud. Only a pair of bloodshot, crimson eyes stubbornly, fixedly stared.

His gaze was hollow, leaving only despair, fixed on the origin point of the gash—Ryo, who stood with his hands in his pockets, his clothes barely wrinkled.

This damned monster.

He lost. A complete and utter loss. Not because his technique was inferior. Not because of exhaustion. It was a comprehensive, crushing defeat from spirit to will, from strength to soul, in every dimension, leaving not even a speck of dust.

Minato tried to open his mouth, but only tore the already bitten-through wound on his lower lip, blood foam mixed with dirt dripping from the corners.

His throat made "hnn… hnn…" sounds, like a broken bellows leaking air, wanting to roar, wanting to say something…

Finally.

A voice so faint it was almost inaudible, mixed with a strong scent of blood, as if scraped from the shattered remnants of his soul, trembling with collapse, tore through the silent air: "I…"

His voice caught. He desperately gathered his last bit of strength, his facial muscles twisted from pain, his voice as light as a mosquito's hum, yet weighing on everyone's hearts: "...lost..."

The two broken words left his mouth, draining the last strength supporting his head.

On the side, Kushina slowly lowered her icy hands, her large eyes misty.

Looking at Ryo again, her gaze was complex, filled with incomprehensible bewilderment. This was the first time she had seen even a fragment of his power.

Hiruzen stiffly bent his old back and picked up the cold pipe from the ground. The embers had long since died out, ashes utterly dead, like his mood at this moment.

He gripped the pipe tightly, his knuckles white.

No one spoke. Silence.

Only the wind, carrying the mixed scent of fresh earth, grass, and thick blood, swirled around the edge of the massive gash.

That gash, traversing the entire training ground and splitting deep into the forest, like a savage wound torn open by a monster's claws, stood like a silent tombstone, a cold and cruel pronouncement carved into Konoha.

It announced the arrival of a monstrous existence.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 49: The Meeting

The end-of-school bell droned like the cry of a dying insect.

The training grounds of Konoha's Ninja Academy had long since lost their usual bustle and the steamy tang of sweat. All that remained was deathly silence, and saturating the air, the thick, metallic reek of blood mixed with the raw scent of freshly torn earth and splintered wood.

That vast chasm that cut across the field, rending the ground, cleaving the forest, bottomless to the eye, was like a purging scar, seared not only onto the retinas of every witness, but onto the depths of their souls.

It felt as if the chill, rending aftershock left by that crimson slash still lingered in the air, pressing down so hard that it stole the breath from one's lungs.

At the edge of the grounds, beside a tacky pool of blood, medics were carefully tending to Minato's wounds.

Minato's eyes were empty. Blood and dirt had clotted on his face, his blond hair stuck damply to his forehead. His lips trembled, but he couldn't form a single complete syllable, only a senseless rasp bubbled up from his throat.

A sigh.

The students who had been watching had long since scattered. The few who remained huddled in the corners, barely daring to breathe.

"Minato… sigh…" Kimura Shū's lips quivered. He wanted to say something comforting and official-sounding, but in the end it collapsed into a powerless exhale. He looked toward the source of the ravine.

Near the beginning of the chasm, a figure stood motionless.

Kamiyama Ryo.

Dressed in a white training uniform, he bore only a few specks of dust, an arresting contrast to the devastation around him.

His right hand slid back into his pocket. His left rested casually on the Kusanagi sword at his waist.

The scabbard was plain, giving no hint that moments ago a lazy flick had seemed to shear through the very fabric of space.

On that perpetually unchanged face of his, tinged with a languid, world-weary look, there wasn't the slightest ripple.

Beneath his messy crimson bangs, those long, narrow eyes half-lidded, his indifferent gaze swept over Minato's sorry state, skimmed past Kimura Shū's panic, and finally came to rest on a red-haired figure not far away, Uzumaki Kushina.

Kushina still held a hand over her mouth, her petite body trembling.

The big eyes that always shone bright and chased Ryo's silhouette were at this moment crammed full of horror. She had seen Ryo fight. She had seen him "rule" the Academy. But those had all been little scuffles. This… what the hell, was that even human?

One strike. A casual swing. It split the earth. It hewed through the forest. It swatted the Academy's prodigy like a fly and left him a heap of scrap.

The terror brought on by such a colossal gulf in power seized her heart more viscerally than ever before. And yet, buried deep beneath that fear, even she could sense a shamefaced relief. The smugness she had felt about her little shows of temper and teasings? What a joke.

"Let's go, Kushina." Ryo's impatient voice snapped her rigid body awake.

"C-coming! What are you, the god of deadlines?!" That all-too-familiar tone yanked Kushina straight up out of the ice pit and shoved her back into explode-at-a-touch little chili pepper mode.

The afterglow of the setting sun spilled like overturned orange-red paint, brazenly brushing the rooftops and streets of Konoha after school. The day's heat still steamed up, and the din of earlier crowds faded into a warm hush.

Chirp, chirp.

Ryo walked the road toward the old Senju residence. Kushina bounced at his side, her red hair skipping in the evening breeze, chattering nonstop.

The earth-shattering sword stroke from earlier had long since been tossed to the back of her mind. For her, as long as Ryo was still Ryo, who cared if the sky fell?

He had just seen Kushina to the deep, old-fashioned Senju compound, a place soaked in history, and waved her goodbye as she hopped through the heavy gate.

The last trace of human warmth faded from Ryo's face, leaving only habitual detachment.

He had barely taken a few steps from the weathered courtyard gate when the air tightened.

A shadow appeared three meters in front of him as silently as a ghost.

The newcomer wore a white animal mask that left only the jawline visible, the standard garb of Konoha's ANBU, with a short blade strapped diagonally across his back.

He dropped to one knee, posture textbook-perfect and deferential, bowing so low it nearly scraped the ground.

His voice was low, tinged with unmistakable respect, and a thread of barely concealed fear. "Sir."

Ryo stopped. He did not pull his hands from his pockets, his eyes stayed lazy, only now with a faint annoyance at being interrupted. "Say what you came to say. Do not block my path."

The ANBU stiffened almost imperceptibly, but the memory of the horror at the training ground made his bow sink lower still. "By order of the Third Hokage, we request your presence. The Hokage awaits upon the Hokage Rock."

Ryo's brow twitched.

The Third? Hiruzen Sarutobi, that old lech who is always clutching his crystal ball?

What does he want?

Trouble.

In his head, the likely script flashed by, the Will of Fire, bonds, responsibility, for the sake of the village, a pile of empty platitudes.

Listening to a monkey perform was not worth as much as going home to lie down.

He tilted his head slightly. Rather than falling first upon the ANBU bowed into the dust, his gaze slid past and landed on the giant faces carved in the Hokage Rock in the sunset, the First Hokage, Hashirama Senju, the Second, Tobirama Senju, and the silhouette now standing atop the cliff, the one who had summoned him, Hiruzen.

Ryo's eyes dropped to the ANBU's slightly trembling shoulder guards.

Annoying as it was, he knew that in Konoha, where the Third's power drowned the village like smoke, and especially right after the slightly serious scene they had just witnessed from him, some surface politeness was necessary.

"Lead the way."

"Yes. This way, sir." The ANBU, as if granted amnesty, rose at once. His body blurred into motion, careful to keep just half a body-length ahead of Ryo, heart thudding.

No way was he going to actually leap roofs and vault walls with this man behind him. He kept the pace to a brisk walk.

Hokage Rock, the landmark and symbol of Konoha.

The massive stone faces of the First, Second, and Third Hokage looked down upon the prosperous village nestled like a jewel in the embrace of the forest.

The sunset gilded Konoha in warm light. Cooking smoke curled upward, voices of the people rose and fell, the academy's clamor seemed far away. Peace, on full display.

Hiruzen Sarutobi stood below the Third Hokage's stone face, at the edge of the cliff.

He wore the iconic Hokage cloak, light armor beneath. A pipe hung, as usual, from his mouth, but the ember had long since died, leaving only cold ash. Hands clasped behind his back, his posture was straight as a spear, eyes deep as he gazed at the lights blossoming below.

The wind ruffled his graying sideburns and set his cloak to snapping.

For a moment, he truly looked like a king surveying the fruits of his rule, tinged with satisfaction and weighed down by responsibility.

Led by the ANBU, Ryo stepped onto the platform atop the Rock. The ANBU bowed again, then slipped away as if dissolving into shadow.

Only two remained on the platform.

Chapter 50: Will of Fire Meets a Brick Wall

One was the Hokage, overlooking his village. The other, a twelve-year-old boy with both hands in his pockets and no expression on his face.

The Third did not immediately turn. He seemed to steep himself in some deep emotion, and in a world-worn, earnest tone he spoke slowly into the empty air before him:

"Ryo, do you know…"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to Ryo's ears. It had a peculiar cadence to it, trying to conjure gravity and nostalgia.

"Back when I took this burden from the Second Hokage, I looked upon the scarred Konoha left by war, the children who had lost their families, crying for food, the defenses shot through with a thousand holes. Every step felt like treading thin ice."

He exhaled lightly, as if even the smoke from his pipe had grown heavy.

"I was afraid. Afraid I lacked the ability, that I would fail Tobirama-sama's trust. Afraid that with one misstep I would drag the village built by Hashirama-sama back into the darkness of war, that I would force the villagers who trust us to once again wander homeless, families shattered."

He paused, as if falling into a memory both heavy and shining. The performance was masterful, enough to make any hot-blooded youth's heart tremble.

Unfortunately, the one standing behind him was Ryo.

Hands in his pockets, crimson bangs tousled by the wind, Ryo's face did not move. Those long, narrow eyes of his were flat as ever, bereft even of cursory sympathy.

Oh? And then what? You came here to brag about your great achievements? To intimidate me?

What does any of that have to do with me?

Ryo rolled his eyes inwardly.

Hiruzen seemed to have worked himself to the right pitch. His tone suddenly swelled, ringing with pride:

"However, look, look at all of this!"

He finally turned, a reserved, seasoned smile on his face. His eyes burned as he looked at Ryo, and his arm swept grandly toward the village below, bathed in the sunset.

"This prosperity. That rising cooking smoke. Children laughing and playing in the streets. Elders basking peacefully in the sun at their doors. Ninja returning from training, their steps in unison. Every lamp that is lit, every face at ease, all of it declares that our efforts were not in vain."

His voice was persuasive, trying to share this hard-won peace with Ryo, to tie that towering sense of accomplishment to the boy before him.

"Together with everyone in the village, I rose early and worked late, governing with all my strength, and at last restored Konoha's former glory. This harmony, this calm, is the finest embodiment of our village's Will of Fire. Where the leaves dance, the fire is ever-burning. The guardianship of the old has bought fertile soil for the young to grow strong. I, Hiruzen, have not betrayed our forebears' hopes."

By the end, his voice quavered with emotion, his eyes moistened, as if he had poured out decades of toil from the bottom of his heart, offering a new vow to the heavens.

He fixed his gaze on Ryo, full of expectation, waiting for this boundlessly gifted boy to be moved by his confession, to pledge himself to the defense of this beautiful everything for life.

Silence pooled on the platform.

Only the wind keened across the Rock, and from below drifted the faint, busy noises of peace.

Ryo stood there, unmoved.

His crimson bangs swayed gently in the breeze.

The expected blood-stirring, tear-choking vow of fealty, none of it came.

Hiruzen's proud, waiting-for-empathy expression froze in the air for a full ten seconds.

He blinked, forcibly swallowing the flash of surprise and awkwardness rising in his chest.

What is going on?

This is not how the script goes.

Faced with such a grand Will of Fire in practice, faced with the personal account of a Kage-level powerhouse, with the village head himself speaking so earnestly, even a cold-tempered kid should say something, shouldn't he?

A single "Mm" would do.

Silence.

Ryo only looked at him quietly. That gaze was overly calm, the kind of calm one has watching an off-key street performer grind through an old routine no one wants to hear anymore.

An invisible pressure spread, not chakra, but the hollowness born of utter inner indifference and rejection.

Hiruzen even felt as if his rousing declaration had made him look like a fool.

This old monkey really thinks he has bared his heart?

Konoha? My life's work? The words echoed in Ryo's mind, and a spike of irony shot straight up his spine.

Konoha? To him it was nothing more than a comfortable perch where there was food to eat and a relatively stable environment.

Nothing more.

What did any of that have to do with him?

He thought of Mito's protection, of Tsunade's hit-or-miss teaching, and of Kushina, that troublesome girl.

But fighting and bleeding for unknown villagers below? It never crossed his mind.

Bonds?

The ones Ryo knew and needed to care about, he could count on his fingers.

As for the Hokage, that is just the headman of a village, isn't it?

Hashirama Senju, a dreamer so naive, even death couldn't end hatred. Tobirama Senju, a sharp mind who used systems to forge order, and still died to a scheme.

And this ninja hero before him?

A man living under towering shadows, coasting on ancestral shade, a mediocrity. In Ryo's eyes, not even worth a sturdy kunai.

Tooting your own horn, are we?

But Hiruzen was a political veteran. He pivoted instantly.

He coughed, and the soaring tone softened into a kindly elder's smile. He changed tack to the personal. "Ahem. To be frank, Kamiyama Ryo, I have wanted to meet you for a long time, to talk in depth."

"I still remember the year you enrolled. Because of that striking head of red hair, I personally visited Mito-sama and begged her to take a look, see if you had awakened any special Uzumaki bloodline traits."

He dredged up the past, his voice warm with an I have been quietly watching over you intimacy.

In Ryo's ears, it was just another layer of varnish.

Watching over, my ass. If I hadn't clawed my way up on my own years ago…

"But, as it turns out, Mito-sama and the rest of us all misjudged you." Hiruzen's tone turned, regret shading into admiration. His gaze shone with undisguised appreciation, as if he were beholding a long-hidden treasure newly uncovered.

"You aren't chakra-poor at all. Your gifts, your terrifying strength, are unprecedented. A true prodigy. In his day, even Tobirama-sama was hardly more than this."

He tried to close the distance with extravagant praise, deliberately invoking Tobirama to hint at Ryo's Senju lineage and emphasize a bond between them.

"That earth-shattering strike today." Hiruzen even took a small step forward, voice rising. "No draw of the blade. No hand seals. Pure physical might and the convergence of intent. Such terrifying power, such exquisite technique, such precise control. It absolutely possesses destructive force to threaten even a Kage."

His voice trembled with excitement and awe, as if the memory still sent a thrill through him. "Twelve. You are only twelve, and already you have combat strength rivaling a Kage. Ryo, do you know what this means? It means you are Konoha's truest, undisputed greatest prodigy since its founding. Your brilliance will illuminate, and protect, our shared home."

Hiruzen's voice rang like a bell, full of rhetorical fire.

He had hoisted Ryo onto the pedestal of the greatest genius in Konoha's history, painting him as the village's sole hope and guardian of the future.

A massive halo, and a crushing responsibility, lashed together.

(To be continued.)

Don't forget to checkout: Naruto: Reborn as a Daimyo

...

Support me on P/treon to read up to 100+ advanced chapters on this and 10 other fics of mine

https://p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves

(Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)