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.)