Ren continued scrolling through the notifications left behind by his spar with Hizashi.
The first message practically burned with indignation.
[Great Fireball Jutsu: I could have reduced that pale-eyed Hyūga to ashes, but you deliberately aimed away from him! This young lady is furious!]
[Great Fireball Jutsu: Because you keep restraining me, those other techniques have started calling me the "Merciful Fireball." My true power never gets a chance to shine! Don't speak to me for the next few days!]
Ren's mouth twitched.
If he had aimed the attack directly at Hizashi, the Chūnin would still have blocked it with the Revolving Heaven. The only difference was that Ren might have transformed a friendly spar into a genuine fight.
Great Fireball Jutsu clearly did not care about such details.
Another notification appeared beneath hers.
[Transformation Technique: Your tactics were excellent, Ren. You combined information, timing, and ninjutsu well enough to surprise a Chūnin.]
[Transformation Technique: But please don't take risks like that too often. We would worry if something happened to you.]
The concern in her words softened Ren's expression.
Substitution Jutsu followed shortly afterward.
[Substitution Jutsu: Ren… I'm glad you're safe.]
[Substitution Jutsu favorability +1]
The system had apparently recognized the techniques he used during the spar as actively participating in an encounter. Transformation Technique, Substitution Jutsu, and Great Fireball Jutsu had all appeared to comment on the battle.
There was only one problem.
A fourth voice arrived.
[Clone Technique: Wait a moment. What was that supposed to mean?]
[Clone Technique: You called the older sister, the younger sister, and even that loud redhead—but you didn't call me. Did you forget I existed?]
Ren stared at the message.
Did she genuinely not understand why he had left her out?
Hizashi possessed the Byakugan.
Transformation Technique and Substitution Jutsu at least offered ways to manipulate his vision, positioning, and expectations. Great Fireball Jutsu provided enough power to force him onto the defensive.
The ordinary E-rank Clone Technique created only intangible illusions. Against an eye capable of directly observing chakra pathways, the clones would be exposed almost immediately.
Using them would have achieved nothing except consuming chakra and giving Hizashi more information.
Ren knew better than to say that aloud.
Clone Technique already suffered from a fragile sense of pride. Telling her she had been useless against the Byakugan would probably create another week-long argument inside the Affinity List.
Instead, Ren opened the Dialogue function.
"It wasn't a battle where I needed to use every technique," he explained. "I was testing a specific combination. Saving you meant Hizashi never had the opportunity to understand your full potential."
The answer was not entirely dishonest.
Clone Technique remained unconvinced.
[Clone Technique: You could have used me once. Even a brief appearance would have been enough.]
Transformation Technique intervened.
[Transformation Technique: Ren was fighting a Chūnin, not putting on a performance. More techniques would not necessarily have improved the result.]
[Transformation Technique: Besides, if he reveals every ability in one spar, he'll have no surprises left for his next opponent. I'm sure he was saving you for something important.]
Clone Technique's anger gradually faded.
[Clone Technique: Hmph. If that is truly the reason, I suppose I can forgive him this once.]
Ren released a quiet breath.
One problem solved.
Great Fireball Jutsu remained.
He attempted to initiate a dialogue with her. The interface flickered, but no response appeared.
Ren tried apologizing.
Nothing.
He explained that he had intentionally aimed to avoid serious injury.
Still nothing.
He even praised the strength of her flames and reminded her that Hizashi had been forced to use one of the Hyūga clan's strongest defensive techniques.
Great Fireball Jutsu continued ignoring him.
She was genuinely angry.
Ren closed the interface for the time being. Pushing harder would probably make the situation worse.
The system's personification was far more complete than he had initially expected. Each technique possessed preferences, emotions, pride, jealousy, and an alarming ability to argue.
It made training more interesting.
It also made every decision significantly more troublesome.
Still, the favorability gains and improved techniques were worth the occasional emotional crisis.
Ren looked toward the western sky.
The sun was already sinking, staining the clouds orange and red. By the time he reached Duy's usual training ground, there would be little daylight remaining.
He had planned to ask Duy about the Eight Gates, but that conversation would have to wait.
Ren collected the wooden kunai scattered around the field, placed them inside his pouch, and started toward home.
---
"Ren, you're back!"
He was approaching the residential district when a familiar voice called to him.
Rin walked toward him carrying several medical textbooks against her chest. Beside her was Ren's mother, Aoi, who held two heavy shopping bags filled with fruit and vegetables.
The two had apparently met while returning from different errands.
They were talking and laughing until they noticed him.
"Mom. Rin."
Ren walked over and took the grocery bags from Aoi before she could protest. He glanced inside and saw oranges, grapes, leafy vegetables, and several items their family did not purchase often.
His eyebrows rose.
"Why did you buy this much fruit?" he asked. "Is there a special occasion, or have we decided to spend all our savings at once?"
Aoi lightly struck his shoulder.
"What kind of question is that?"
She smiled as they continued walking.
"A letter from your father arrived today. The village subsidy came with it."
Ren's steps slowed.
Aoi did not notice his reaction.
"Rin also told me about your excellent performance at the academy," she continued. "You've been training hard, so I bought extra food to prepare a proper dinner."
She turned toward Rin.
"You should eat with us tonight. Bring your parents as well."
Rin brightened.
"Thank you, Aunt Aoi. I'll ask them as soon as I get home."
Ren adjusted his grip on the bags.
His father had sent a letter.
More importantly, his father was still alive.
Tajima had been stationed near the border for a long time, and the hospital's growing number of casualties had made Ren increasingly aware of the danger. Even routine patrols could become deadly when relations between villages deteriorated.
Knowing Tajima was safe brought an unexpected sense of relief.
The system had not demanded the destruction of his family as some cruel price for granting him power.
That alone was worth celebrating.
The three returned home together.
Rin placed her books down briefly before hurrying next door to invite her parents. Aoi entered the kitchen and began preparing dinner.
Ren set the groceries on the table.
A folded letter rested nearby.
He picked it up.
The writing was direct and slightly rough, as though the author had composed it during a short break between duties.
Tajima reported that he remained safe. The border was tense, but his current outpost had not encountered any major attacks.
The final section contained the news Aoi had been celebrating.
If everything proceeded as scheduled, another shinobi unit would relieve Tajima's group, allowing him to return to Konoha in two months.
Ren stared at the sentence.
If everything proceeded as scheduled.
Return in two months.
Those were exactly the kinds of words people spoke shortly before a disaster.
"Come on," Ren muttered. "You can't raise a death flag like that."
This was not a peaceful era.
The Third Shinobi World War had not officially begun, but every sign suggested that it was approaching. Border clashes were escalating, the hospital was receiving more wounded, and the hidden villages were stockpiling supplies.
Two months was a long time.
One failed negotiation or raid could turn an uneventful outpost into a battlefield overnight.
If fighting reached Tajima's position before the relief unit arrived, an ordinary Chūnin would be in serious danger.
Ren's concern was not only emotional.
Tajima's income supported most of the household.
Shinobi work paid reasonably well compared with ordinary civilian employment. Genin struggled because their assignments often consisted of D-rank chores with limited rewards.
Chūnin could accept C-rank missions worth tens of thousands of ryō. After the village's portion, team divisions, equipment costs, food, and other expenses were deducted, a careful shinobi could still save a useful amount.
Long-term border assignments also included additional subsidies.
The payments were not enough to make the family wealthy, but they allowed Aoi and Ren to live comfortably by civilian standards.
Major shinobi clans existed in an entirely different world.
Their children had access to private instructors, family techniques, high-quality diets, medicinal treatments, specialized training grounds, and generations of accumulated resources. If they also inherited a kekkei genkai, their starting advantage over an ordinary student became overwhelming.
Ren had the system.
His family did not.
If Tajima returned safely, Ren intended to speak with him about reducing the number of dangerous missions he accepted. Perhaps they could invest their savings in a small business or find work connected to logistics inside the village.
Tajima might earn less.
He would also be far less likely to die on an anonymous stretch of borderland.
Of course, persuading a shinobi to abandon the profession that supported his family would not be easy. Ren needed a practical proposal, not merely fear.
He folded the letter carefully and returned it to the table.
For now, all he could do was wait and prepare.
---
That evening, the Nohara family arrived for dinner.
Rin came first, carrying a small container of pickled vegetables. Her parents followed with tea and a bottle of sake intended for the adults.
Aoi welcomed them warmly.
Rin's father, Hiroshi Nohara, was also a Chūnin. He possessed more combat experience than Tajima and had a stronger reputation inside the village.
With enough time and a clear specialty, he had a realistic chance of qualifying as a tokubetsu jōnin.
Unlike Obito and Duy, Hiroshi was calm and measured. He spoke carefully, listened before responding, and carried the steady presence of someone accustomed to making decisions under pressure.
During dinner, Hiroshi asked Aoi about Tajima's letter.
"So he'll be back in two months?"
"That is what he wrote," Aoi replied. "Assuming there are no delays."
Hiroshi raised his cup.
"When Tajima returns, tell him he owes me a drink. It has been far too long since we sat together."
Ren paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.
There it was.
Another death flag.
First, Tajima promised to return in two months. Now Hiroshi was planning the celebration waiting for him.
At this rate, someone would soon mention all the things they intended to do after the war.
Ren swallowed his concern and maintained a polite expression.
"I'm sure Father will look forward to it."
Hiroshi laughed.
"Your Ren certainly knows how to speak," he told Aoi. "My Rin only knows how to eat."
Rin was quietly drinking her soup.
She stopped and looked up.
Confusion spread across her face.
She had barely touched half her meal.
Aoi immediately came to her defense.
"What are you saying, Hiroshi? Rin is an excellent girl. She helped me carry the groceries home today without being asked."
Rin relaxed slightly.
Aoi smiled at her.
"She's thoughtful, hardworking, and becoming more beautiful every year. I wonder which boy will be fortunate enough to walk beside her when she grows older."
"Cough!"
Rin inhaled her soup.
Her face turned red as she began coughing.
Ren calmly handed her a cloth.
"Drink some water."
Rin accepted the cup without looking directly at him.
"Thank you."
Ren gave the adults a polite but slightly strained smile before lowering his head and concentrating on his meal.
Aoi and Rin's mother exchanged an amused glance.
Ren pretended not to notice.
The dinner continued for nearly half an hour. Conversation moved from academy lessons to hospital training, border assignments, and Tajima's expected return.
Despite the unease Ren felt whenever the adults mentioned the future too confidently, the evening remained warm.
When the meal ended, Aoi walked the Nohara family to the door.
Ren helped collect the plates while she said goodbye. Once their guests had returned next door, Aoi entered the kitchen and began clearing the remaining dishes.
Halfway through, she stopped.
"Oh, I almost forgot."
She opened the refrigerator and removed a bag of grapes and another filled with oranges. Both had clearly been separated from the rest of the groceries in advance.
"I intended to give these to Hiroshi and his family," she said. "Ren, take them next door before it gets too late."
Ren stared at the fruit.
Then he looked at his mother.
Aoi smiled innocently.
"Is something wrong?"
"No."
Ren accepted both bags.
He walked toward the door, still watching her from the corner of his eye.
The moment he stepped outside, Aoi closed it behind him with suspicious speed.
Ren looked down at the fruit and sighed.
She had not forgotten anything.