Hayashi sat in the living room on the first floor, quietly taking in the layout of the house.He had assumed that someone with Selene's personality would live in a place stripped down to the bare essentials.Yet, to his surprise, it felt warm—unexpectedly inviting.
From the outside, the house was no different from its neighbors.But inside, every detail spoke of a lived-in comfort, the sort that made you feel at home the moment you stepped through the door.It was a strange sensation. Hayashi had stayed in places for over a decade without ever feeling that sense of belonging.Here, with the sounds of clattering pans and the gentle rhythm of chopping coming from the kitchen, it was as though he had finally arrived somewhere he was meant to be.
A quiet warmth stirred in his chest.It struck him then—his feelings for Selene ran deeper than he'd realized.Whether it was love, he couldn't say.But he knew one thing for certain: he was drawn to her beauty, captivated by her presence.
What he didn't know was how Selene saw him.Was there affection? Or was he imagining it?Her trust in him was high—her favorability was close to fifty—but Hayashi, inexperienced in love, had learned something from the women who seemed to care for him: a high level of trust or affection didn't necessarily mean romance.It depended on a person's upbringing, personality, and how they processed emotions.
Take Scarlet and Mara, for example.Their feelings for him were more like feverish devotion.They worshiped him as if he were their savior and would obey any order without hesitation.That wasn't love—it was adoration, pure and simple.
Or take Lyra.Having grown up without a strong male figure, she'd started treating him like an older brother once they grew closer.She leaned on him, expected his protection.It was family affection, not romantic love.
The only one whose behavior resembled something closer to love was Karura.Thinking of her brought a pleasant warmth to his heart.She embodied the kind of tenderness and initiative Hayashi imagined from an ideal partner.
He leaned back in the chair, gaze drifting to the ceiling.Selene's behavior toward him suggested something entirely different.To her, he seemed to be nothing more than a "good brother"—a trusted male friend, completely unthreatening, free from suspicion.The kind of friend you could joke with, touch without hesitation, with no romantic undertone whatsoever.
The more Hayashi thought about it, the more convinced he became that his guess was right.Selene could be cold, even sharp, with others—strict with her apprentice in the original tale—but with him, she was casual and unguarded.She never hinted at anything beyond friendship.Even the most oblivious woman would eventually recognize that holding onto a man's arm constantly might mean more than camaraderie.But Selene seemed entirely unaware.
Realizing this left him strangely deflated.He'd never hidden the fact that he was a man with a healthy appreciation for beauty, and Selene was stunning in both form and face.If it were possible to have a harem, he'd certainly welcome the idea—and in this shinobi world, there was no formal restriction on multiple marriages, even if most renowned ninja were monogamous.
But if she felt nothing for him…Should he really try to push for more?
Forcing someone was out of the question—he disliked that sort of thing entirely.The strange encounter with Lady Tsunade had been different; he'd half-convinced himself it was a dream, indulging a fantasy without harming anyone in reality.This, however, was real life.If he crossed that line, would she ever treat him the same way again?
He liked what they had now—being able to speak freely, without pretense, without weighing every word.
"Hey, Hayashi, are you just going to sit there daydreaming? Come give me a hand!"
Her voice snapped him back.He gave a wry smile, then second-guessed himself.Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was just overthinking things.
He decided to test it.
Rising, he hurried into the kitchen."What do you need me to do?"
"Radishes—peel these and cut them into chunks."
The Sand Village was poor.Elsewhere, radishes were ordinary, but here vegetables were so rare that even the most basic root was precious, and even senior ninja couldn't eat them every day.Meat, on the other hand, was plentiful.
Beside Selene, who was busy chopping meat, sat a basket of plump white radishes.Hayashi saw his chance.
He walked up, picked one up, and—feigning casualness—rested his hand on her firm, shapely rear, giving it a squeeze.Soft. Warm. Elastic.
Then he looked at her face.If she got angry or blushed, it would mean he was wrong about her feelings.
But she didn't."Seriously? Quit fooling around and get to work."Her tone was light, her expression unchanged—no shyness, no awkwardness, as though he'd merely teased her like a sibling would.
Something tightened in his chest.He nodded, carried the radishes a short distance away, and began cutting.
But just seconds later, a flush crept across Selene's cheeks, her skin warming until she felt like a ripe peach.She touched her face, feeling the heat, a faint, secret happiness blooming inside her—though she couldn't name the feeling, nor what she was expecting.
Shaking her head, she took a slow breath, steadying herself before returning to her work.
Ten seconds later, Hayashi glanced up. Her expression was back to normal.That settled it—she really did see him only as a trusted friend.Even if her trust grew to the highest level, it would still be that of a "good brother."
He gave a small, self-deprecating smile.Fine. There were plenty of kunoichi in the world, and it wasn't as if his yet-to-be-formed harem would fall apart without her.And in Selene, he'd have something rare: a woman he could confide in without the pressures of romance.
Selene, meanwhile, kept chopping, savoring a quiet calm she only felt when he was around.That strange, unnamable warmth came to her even when she thought of him at other times.
She found herself wondering, not for the first time:"What exactly is this? People call it friendship, but it feels… different. Then again, I don't have any other male friends to compare it to."
Two emotional fools.One convinced it was platonic.The other too unsure to admit it might be more.
And so, after Hayashi "figured it out," he relaxed completely—treating her as a close male friend, leaning in to whisper now and then.Close enough to breathe in the soft fragrance of her hair.
"Brother, you smell good," he murmured with a grin.