Bonus for 200 PS, next bonus at 300 PS. Thank you for your support :)
---
Ryo strolled out from the shade at an unhurried pace, casual as a walk in the park, utterly out of tune with the tight, exam-day air. The grounds fell instantly silent.
Dozens of gazes pinned to him.
Some curious, some jealous, some looking for a spectacle, and others, like Mikoto's, quietly intent.
The proctor eyed the boy who radiated "couldn't care less" from head to toe and frowned deeper.
He had no fondness for problem students. Talent or not, you needed a proper attitude, weight and measure.
"Tested ninjutsu: Kawarimi no Jutsu," the proctor called, voice purposefully loud and cold. "Ryo, this isn't a stage for showing off. I want standard form. Perfect hand signs. Perfect chakra control. A clear substitution effect. Not a hair short."
He was laying down rules, plain as day, itching to nitpick.
"Heh…" A breath of a laugh, so soft and yet somehow exploding in everyone's ears, snorted from Ryo's nose. And on the tail of that single scoff, space itself seemed to ripple.
An invisible, crushing pressure burst outward from Ryo's position, not a flare of chakra, but the stillness born of absolute speed and power.
Ryo's figure, no one even saw him move. Where he had been standing, only a faint afterimage fluttered, thin enough to miss if you blinked.
A fraction of a fraction of a second later.
Tick. A soft click in the air.
Ryo's real body now stood, blank-faced, composed, specter-silent, dead center on the painted bull's-eye.
Fast. Breathtakingly fast. Fast enough to upend everything the onlookers thought they knew.
No hand signs.
No warning.
No puff of smoke from a substituted log.
Only an instant shift, as if he had stepped straight from one panel of a painting into another.
The exam field went corpse-still.
The proctor's mouth was still open. The reprimand he had preloaded jammed in his throat like a broken gear.
For a heartbeat he wondered if his old eyes were playing tricks. Had he fallen into a genjutsu?
"The point of Kawarimi no Jutsu is to 'take a different place,' isn't it?" Ryo's cool voice shattered the hush, like ice beads bouncing on stone, crisp and clean.
He lifted his lids lazily and looked at the petrified proctor, the corner of his mouth bending by the tiniest, almost imaginary fraction, maybe just a trick of light.
"I," he paused, voice not loud but cutting clear through every ear, "used substitution in a more direct way."
He let his gaze rest on the proctor's face, fear and confusion written there, and added, light as asking what was for lunch, "I directly replaced the log and stood here instead. Any problem with that?"
Thump.
Someone, no one saw who, couldn't bear the invisible pressure and sagged to the ground.
Then, after that dead silence, came a chorus of gasps and cries.
"G-good, god. H-how did he do that?"
"Where were the hand signs? I didn't see any!"
Jealousy, scorn, the mood for watching a joke, crushed to powder in an instant.
Only awe remained. And fear.
Mikoto clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound.
She stared at Ryo's casually upright back, the way he seemed to suppress the entire field just by standing there, and her heart slammed like it wanted out of her chest.
The heat in her eyes nearly overflowed. Strong. Too strong. Strength beyond understanding.
This, this was what she admired. The unmatched, the invincible. That absolute confidence and control beneath the cool exterior, she was lost.
She realized she was shaking, head to toe.
Kushina's face, meanwhile, was red with excitement. She shot to her feet, waving both arms, ignoring every glance around them. "See that? That's mine. Is he awesome or is he AWESOME? So freakin' cool." She looked a second from leaping up and clinging to him.
At last the dismissal bell rang, heavenly sound, freeing the crowd from the vast shadow Ryo had cast.
Kushina practically sprinted to Ryo's side, wrapped herself around his arm, tipped her face up, her eyes still sparkling with leftover thrill, and, just a little possessively, called over to Mikoto not far away:
"Right, Mikoto. We graduated today, how about we eat together after school to celebrate? Super important occasion."
She made a point of it, then added with shameless pride, "And listen, Ryo's cooking is amazing. Best in the world. Once you taste it, you'll never forget it. A hundred times better than any barbecue."
Thinking of the parting to come, a true shadow of loss and longing crossed her eyes. "After we graduate, everyone's gonna be busy with missions, it won't be so easy to be together."
Far off, Minato paused in the act of quietly packing up. A fierce yearning flashed in his eyes.
He wanted to go, so badly. To eat with Kushina. But his gaze brushed Ryo's unchanged, unreadable face, and the memory of that slash. Minato's hand slid up to his neck. A chill climbed his spine.
He had no doubt, if he asked to join them, that blade Ryo always seemed to keep in the dark would be at his throat in the next breath.
He didn't even have the courage to try.
Forget it. Staying alive matters more.
Mikoto was carefully adjusting her new protector, trying to make it sit neatly and elegantly amid her black hair.
At Kushina's invitation, her heart skipped, and joy flooded in.
Eat with Ryo-kun?
This, this wasn't a dream, was it?
But the next second, that bright flame dimmed a notch.
She stole a look at Ryo's face.
Dinner with him? Would he agree? Would he think she was intruding?
Would he find her annoying?
A thread of timidity and inferiority she couldn't stop bubbled up.
In front of the one you like, anyone becomes small.
Hesitating, Mikoto twisted the hem of her clothes, head ducked, voice soft and unsure. "I, I'd really love to… I just… wouldn't it be… bothering Ryo-kun?"
Her voice dwindled, smaller and smaller, until it was barely the buzz of a mosquito, cautious, testing.
Ryo's gaze skimmed over Mikoto, head bowed, pitiful in a way that mixed acting with something painfully real.
"Mm, it's alright."
Molten sunset spilled along the road to Ryo's place, and across the three walking shoulder to shoulder.
The air still held a trace of the graduation bustle, but around them a quieter warmth was settling.
Kushina took the middle, hooking one arm through Ryo's and the other through Mikoto's, steps light and bouncy, humming off-key, already having tossed her earlier threat to the wind.
"Hurry, hurry. I'm starving. My stomach's protesting." She jostled Ryo's arm, all pretense of poise gone.
Being looped so openly through Ryo's arm set Mikoto's cheeks pink again, but she kept her surface grace and smiled along. "Mm… I'm really looking forward to it."
"Don't worry." Kushina thumped her chest. Thud, thud. Then winked at Mikoto. "Prepare to have your jaw drop. He plays it cool, but when he takes a knife to the board, now that's speed."
She talked with her hands too. "And when he cooks, the aroma floats down two streets. Eat it once and, who needs barbecue."
Inside, Mikoto was a knot of curiosity and nerves.
She wanted to know everything about Ryo. And now, step into his private space, taste food he made with his own hands? Perfect.
Outwardly she nodded with a smile. "Mm. You've praised him so much, I'm excited."
But her eyes kept drifting to Ryo's stark profile, and her heart beat faster.
At the door, Ryo slid out a key and clicked the lock.
He pushed the door open on a room so simple it was almost bare.
A low table. A few floor cushions. The only real feature was the kitchen, spotless, precisely ordered.
A clear, clean scent, like him.
"Sit wherever," Ryo said at last.
He toed off his shoes and walked straight to the kitchen.
"Make yourself at home, Mikoto. For real." Kushina, obviously an old hand here, kicked off her shoes and bolted to a cushion, patting the spot beside her.
Moments after they had gone in, a gold-haired shadow flickered into being in the alley's shade down the way.
Minato leaned against the wall, chest tight.
He had followed from a distance the whole way, terrified of getting too close, terrified Ryo's awful sensitivity would catch him.
Now he stared at the closed door. Kushina's clear, happy voice leaked faintly through. His heart felt dunked in lemon water, sour and stinging.
"A get-together, at Ryo's place." The thought chilled his fingertips.
Go in?
He hadn't the guts. He could picture too clearly how awkward, how unwanted, his appearance would be.
The thought of giving up wound around him like a vine.
Minato's mouth twisted into a bitter half-smile. Even his golden hair seemed dimmer in the sinking sun.
He took one last look, long, reluctant, at that shut door, as if he could see through it to the red-haired figure inside.
Forget it. Kushina's happy right now. That should be enough. Right?
A great emptiness washed him under.
He didn't hesitate anymore. He turned and slipped away into the deepening dusk, almost like fleeing.
His back looked indescribably lonely.
(To be continued.)
◇◇◇
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)