June 1st, Konoha Year 32.
The amusement park was closed to the public today because a certain mysterious and wealthy member of the Uchiha family had booked the entire venue.
Wearing a black coat and with messy medium-length hair, Shen Uchiha stood at the entrance of the theme park, waiting for someone's arrival.
At just twelve years old, thanks to regular exercise and the genetic boost from the Zangai Clan, he was nearly six feet tall. Moreover, unlike three years ago when he was a spoiled brat, he now appeared much more mature.
It was just that his lazy, lethargic demeanor unavoidably reminded people of the [Konoha Troublemaker] from back then.
"I've reformed already. Everyone can rest assured; I promise you all I won't misbehave in Konoha ever again!"
Last year, on Konoha's first season of the television program *Shinobi World Great Figures*, this was how earnestly he had vowed.
"They're taking so long… Should I call?" Holding his phone in his left hand, Shen hesitated over whether to give the guest of honor a call.
At the Hyuga clan leader's home, Nayou was carefully applying her makeup.
Although most products released by the Uchiha Corporation were high-tech household appliances, they also dabbled in fashion and cosmetics.
With the help of a mysterious designer, within just a few short years, Konoha's average aesthetic sense jumped straight from the '80s into the next millennium.
Originally intended as a way to attract rich Daimyos, these cosmetic products were eventually recommended for public release by Aiko Uchiha, chairwoman of Uchiha Corporation Limited, making girls across Konoha fall in love with dressing up.
Kushina, who was about to graduate, wore makeup to school every day. Occasionally, she'd even go full ceremonial glam on her homeroom teacher Nishinodera.
In her pajamas with light makeup applied, Nayou stared at her reflection in the mirror, struggling with indecision.
She usually wore nothing but white kimonos—nothing except white kimonos—and truly didn't know what else to wear.
She stood up, opened the wardrobe, and stared at its packed contents, facing yet another dilemma.
Over the past three years, Ao had constantly come up with strange excuses to get Shen to send Nayou a new outfit each time.
This wardrobe was only one out of around ten filling up her bedroom.
Girls are naturally drawn to pretty clothes, and Nayou was no exception.
At first, she happily accepted receiving new outfits, but after several months passed, she gradually grew numb to it all.
Even though she tried on at least three or four hundred pieces of clothing, she just shoved them straight into the wardrobe afterward.
Nayou had never worn any of them outside, nor had even Shen, her only friend, ever seen her dressed in anything besides white kimonos.
"So hard to choose…" Nayou muttered, clearly suffering from decision fatigue.
She closed her eyes and randomly pulled an outfit from the wardrobe.
Opening her eyes, she saw it was a puffy long dress with lace trimming in light pink, and immediately shoved it back inside.
"Ugh…" Nayou closed her eyes again and grabbed a black dress at random before immediately shoving it back inside.
At the Uchiha Clan Compound, Fugaku wore a black trench coat and large sunglasses as he drove the recently mass-produced supercar, Indra, toward the Mysterious Place.
Its glossy black body featured sharp, angular lines and a rugged front bumper. With the Uchiha clan crest proudly displayed on it, the Indra was far more stylish than its prototype.
The mysterious designer behind it, who had no interest in innovation, directly copied the most classic design of a famous supercar from his past life.
Though the car definitely elevated both class and prestige, the price was steep—only a few families across Konoha could likely afford it.
"We're here," Fugaku murmured, reaching out to gently lift the car door before placing his left foot firmly on the ground.
At seventeen, with a fresh and neat new hairstyle, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket, placed one between his lips, and raised his index finger, which now flickered with a small flame.
"No good, Fugaku. Minors aren't allowed to smoke," a gentle female voice chimed in from directly in front of him.
Fugaku extinguished the flame on his fingertip, pushed his sunglasses down slightly, and upon recognizing the speaker, obediently snapped the cigarette in his mouth.
"Mikoto? How come you arrived so quickly?"
Dressed in a sleek black dress, Mikoto narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully.
After about ten seconds passed, she countered playfully, "Don't girls usually take a long time to get ready?"
This was a tricky question! Well-versed in The Book of Thick Face and Black Heart (a manual of cunning life strategies), Fugaku immediately shook his head. "Not at all. I just meant that you, Mikoto, are naturally beautiful—there's no need for much preparation."
"!!!" Blushing slightly, Mikoto lowered her gaze. "Come on, hurry up. Shen and Nayou might've been waiting a while already."
Fugaku knew exactly why she was blushing—his compliment had clearly gotten through to her. After all, he'd been observing these family-style interactions for years.
"Please, get in," he said, opening the back door of the Indra and bowing with the manner of a gentleman.
"Alright." Blushing, Mikoto gently placed her small hand into Fugaku's much larger palm.
Once they were both seated inside, the Indra pulled away from the Uchiha Clan Compound. It rolled smoothly down Konoha's newly built roads, heading toward the Mysterious Theme Park.
Meanwhile, at the Hyuga Clan Compound, after over half an hour of careful selection, Nayou finally decided on a white kimono.
However, this kimono was different from the usual loose-fitting style; it was short and form-fitting.
As she walked through the compound grounds, her expression showed visible joy and excitement—her usual coldness completely absent.
Seeing this, the Hyuga clan was absolutely stunned. Their Ice Queen actually had a look of eager anticipation in her eyes.
"Which bastard has dared to approach the Young Lady?!"
"Who else could it be besides *him*? Throughout the entire Konoha—not, the entire shinobi world—only *he* could possibly manage such a feat."
"Damn it! If only the Clan Leader hadn't strictly forbidden us from messing with him, that brat would still be hanging on our gate."
"Get real. Three years ago, he took on hundreds all by himself. Now, we'd probably have to call upon the powerful central branch of the family to stand any chance against him."
"And even though the Young Lady can easily take on those main house elders, how could she possibly end up choosing *him*?"
"Ah, damn that Uchiha."
Little did the Hyuga clan members know that their ice-cold heiress, Nayou, had already caught every nasty word they said — thanks to her Byakugan and expert lip-reading.
"Two hundred sparring partners tomorrow — let's see how that goes," she muttered, pulling out a small white notebook to jot this down.
The black notebook belonged exclusively to someone else, while the white one was Nayou's personal record for the Hyuga clan.
Most entries in the black notebook — the one belonging to an unnamed individual — had already been crossed out, leaving only around a dozen left.
The white notebook wasn't so lucky. It was packed with records of every single time and occasion when Hyuga clan members whispered behind her back — or someone else's.
Nayou, who had long since bested the main house in sparring, claimed she held these frequent training matches solely to improve the clan's strength — not because she held any grudges.
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