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.)