The sound of splattering paint broke the morning silence.
From the next room, Natasha Romanoff had just hurled an entire bucket of thick crimson paint straight out the window. The paint exploded in midair—right over Susan Storm, who had been hiding in stealth mode outside.
For a brief moment, the scene looked surreal. The paint clung to her invisible form, revealing her figure little by little—curves outlined by streaks of red, dripping like a ghost taking shape.
Ryuuto, standing nearby, blinked. "...This looks like some avant-garde horror movie."
Natasha, standing at the window in her black bathrobe, leveled a pistol directly at Susan's painted silhouette. "You're trespassing, Storm. Next time you sneak in uninvited, I'll report you straight to S.H.I.E.L.D."
"You're really not the polite type, huh?" Susan's voice carried a smirk.
She stomped once, summoning her force field beneath her feet—transparent, but the paint made it shimmer like liquid glass. Waves of red swirled along its surface, beautiful but deadly.
"Step away," Natasha warned coldly, "before I test how strong that bubble of yours really is."
"Please," Susan snorted. "You shoot, I deflect. Classic spy versus woman-who's-way-out-of-your-league."
Natasha fired.
BANG!
The bullet stopped inches away from Susan, bending midair against her invisible shield. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it ricocheting straight back—embedding it in the wall behind Natasha.
Ryuuto sighed. "Yeah, this is escalating fast."
Natasha scowled. "Try that again and I'll—"
Before she could finish, Ryuuto's eyes sharpened. Blue light swirled in his palm.
"Ninjutsu—Rasengan!"
The chakra sphere burst into existence, wind screaming around it as he thrust it forward through the open window. Susan barely had time to react—the hit clipped her leg and sent her stumbling back, not enough to injure, but enough to sting.
"Seriously?!" she shouted, grimacing.
"Seriously," Ryuuto replied flatly. "You don't crash into someone's home and call it diplomacy."
Susan huffed, brushing red paint from her hair. "Fine. Have your fun. But next time, Red Mirage—remember this. The Fantastic Four treats its members better than S.H.I.E.L.D. ever will."
She shot a smirk toward Natasha. "And as for you, Black Widow… you've got a hundred years on your face. You sure this boy knows what he's getting into?"
Ryuuto crossed his arms. "Age doesn't scare me. Wrinkles don't punch harder."
Susan snorted, turned invisible again, and leapt off the balcony.
[Ding! Mission Completed.]
"Any injuries?" Ryuuto asked, glancing at Natasha.
"None," she said dryly. "But that woman's like a clingy ex. If she sneaks back again, I'll set up an infrared trap."
"Good idea," he said, smirking. "Now, about that dinner you promised me?"
"Give me twenty minutes."
Ryuuto chuckled. "Can't wait to see how a century-old assassin handles a frying pan."
Dinner turned out to be... an experience.
The moment he took the first bite, Ryuuto's soul nearly left his body. "...Natasha-san. Did you cook this or assassinate it?"
She folded her arms, eyebrow raised. "You're still breathing, aren't you?"
He forced a smile. "Barely."
If not for her expecting a compliment, he would've called it what it was—culinary war crime.
Later that night, after a strained but strangely domestic dinner, Ryuuto retreated to his room.
The next morning, at exactly eight, a sleek jet descended outside the villa.
Tony Stark stepped out with his usual smug grin. "Morning, Red Mirage. Heard you kicked an invisible woman out a window yesterday. I just had to see if that legend was true."
Ryuuto smirked, stretching his shoulders. "You here to gossip or to lose a fight?"
Tony's grin widened. "Neither. I'm here to prove that iron beats chakra."
They boarded the plane together, heading toward Stark's villa near Malibu Beach.A spar between genius and anomaly was about to begin.