STIN: Chapter 63/64

Chapter 63: Got It for Free

The moment the deal was sealed, the atmosphere in the office shifted.

The thick pressure of negotiation disappeared, leaving only the faint tapping of Ryo's fingers against his knee and the soft hiss of tobacco as Hiruzen exhaled a long stream of smoke.

"The debt is cleared."

Hiruzen's murky eyes glimmered with sharp light through the haze. "Now, let's talk about another kind of business."

He leaned forward, crossing the cluttered table. His shadow stretched across it, heavy with authority.

"That blue chakra sphere you taught Kushina, the one called Rasengan." His Adam's apple moved as he swallowed, his voice thick with desire. "And that sword technique of yours, the one that split the ground with a swing of its sheath."

His gaze turned razor-sharp. "Interested in making a deal with the village? Exchange them for something more… useful?"

Ryo didn't lift his eyes. "What kind of exchange?" His tone was curt, straight to the point.

Hiruzen leaned back, reaching beneath his desk. A deep scraping sound followed as he pulled out a massive ancient scroll bound in dark ebony wood.

With a thud, it landed on the table. The yellowed parchment was covered in dense crimson sealing scripts.

"The Scroll of Seals." Hiruzen's fingers brushed across it with reverence. "From the time of the First Hokage, this scroll records every forbidden technique in Konoha's history."

He tapped the hardened casing with a knuckle. "Your Rasengan, stabilized chakra shape transformation, fully controllable, devastating against defenses, no hand seals required. That's A-rank at least."

"As for that sword technique, barehanded, no chakra required, yet it split the ground open. That's S-rank material."

His gaze sharpened. "You can pick two jutsu of equivalent rank from this scroll. How about it? Do we have a deal?"

His voice carried temptation, and just a trace of unease.

Ryo finally moved.

His eyes scanned the twisting runes, silver pupils faintly rippling with hidden energy.

"Deal." The word struck like a hammer.

"Agreed!" Hiruzen's heart skipped. He had accepted that easily? He had expected to negotiate half the day.

But it made sense. The Scroll of Seals held countless forbidden techniques, many unusable. Trading a few to gain new foundational arts was profitable from a Hokage's point of view.

For Ryo, it was simpler.

The Rasengan was something he had gotten for free. That swordsmanship from another world? Also free. Whether others could master it was not his concern.

He was about to trade two things he got for nothing for two high-tier jutsu. Pure profit.

Afraid he might change his mind, Hiruzen quickly formed hand seals. His fingers blurred.

Chakra light shimmered at his fingertips as he pressed the central "Seal" symbol.

A deep hum rippled through the air. The complex seal patterns quivered like water, then shifted aside.

Moments later, a portion of the scroll unfurled, revealing lines of black ink.

"Check the index yourself," Hiruzen said hoarsely. "Only this portion is accessible. The rest is sealed."

Ryo's eyes flicked through the list, each name carried blood and legend.

Wood Release: Deep Forest Emergence (S-Rank, Forbidden) Impure World Reincarnation (S-Rank, Forbidden) Yin Seal (S-Rank) Flying Thunder God Technique (S-Rank)

One by one, jutsu that had shaken the world appeared before him.

Then his gaze stopped, not on the top entries, but on a modest one marked in red.

Multiple Shadow Clone Technique (A-Rank).

His eyes narrowed. Then they stopped again, Flying Thunder God Technique (S-Rank).

He tapped the table lightly. The sound was soft, but it hit Hiruzen's heart like a hammer.

"These two," Ryo said calmly.

"What?!" Hiruzen's hand jerked, almost dropping his pipe. "Cough, cough, what did you just say?!"

"Multiple Shadow Clone Technique," Ryo repeated. "And the Flying Thunder God Technique."

Clack.

The brass pipe hit the table and rolled twice before stopping upside down.

Hiruzen didn't even glance at it. His eyes bulged. "Are you insane? Do you even know what the Flying Thunder God is?! S-Rank forbidden art. Spatial teleportation. Tobirama-sama spent his entire life creating it. One misstep and you'll be shredded in spatial turbulence. Do you have a death wish?!"

"Young people!" he roared. "Just because you killed a few Kumo-nin doesn't make you invincible. These techniques aren't toys. Geniuses have died trying to learn what's written here!"

Ryo waited silently as the old Hokage fumed. His face stayed calm.

When the shouting stopped, he spoke quietly. "Then, can we trade?"

The calm weight of those words froze Hiruzen mid-breath. His face turned red, then pale.

Right. He was the one who made the offer. Jutsu for jutsu.

The Flying Thunder God was S-Rank. Ryo's sword technique was S-Rank.

He couldn't refuse.

Hiruzen sighed. "…We can trade."

He sank back into his chair, voice weary. "Of course we can."

Rubbing his face, he muttered, "The permissions are open. Copy what you need. Paper and ink are in that cabinet."

Before he finished, Ryo was already moving.

He pulled out standard Konoha scrolls and charcoal pens. His movements were clean and deliberate.

Hiruzen watched but said nothing.

Ryo's full attention was locked on the opened scroll. Beneath each jutsu title, short notes glowed faintly, pulsing like living warnings.


---

Multiple Shadow Clone Technique (A-Rank): A forbidden variant of the standard Shadow Clone. Consumes enormous chakra to create multiple, theoretically unlimited, physical clones. Each clone has independent mobility and thought. All experiences return to the user when dispelled. (Risk: High danger of chakra exhaustion and mental collapse.)

Flying Thunder God Technique (S-Rank, Forbidden): A secret technique for instantaneous teleportation through space. Uses spiritual imprints and spatial folding to move between marked coordinates. (Core Principles: Spatial Anchoring, Coordinate Analysis, Phase Folding, Vector Displacement Control.) (Risks: Loss of coordinates → dismemberment. Chakra miscalculation → dimensional tear. Drift → body fragmentation.)

Ryo picked up the charcoal pen. His hand was steady. He closed his eyes for a moment before writing.

The title "Multiple Shadow Clone Technique" appeared in bold strokes.

He wrote swiftly, copying every rune, every chakra diagram. The sound of charcoal scratching filled the room.

Soon, one scroll was complete. He set it aside and began the next.

He needed the Flying Thunder God.

Once his "little tomato" became a Jinchūriki, she would become everyone's target.

Strength alone wasn't enough. If he couldn't reach the enemy, it was meaningless.

He needed speed, speed that ignored distance.

He began writing again.

The diagram of the Flying Thunder God was ten times more complex. Each line carried the weight of space itself.

Time blurred.

Finally, the last stroke fell.

Two fresh scrolls lay before him, ink still glistening.

"Youth really is a kind of capital," Hiruzen murmured, breaking the silence. His tone carried weary admiration.

He toyed with his pipe, eyes softening. "The Flying Thunder God… I tried studying it once."

Ryo looked up.

Hiruzen avoided his gaze. "I held Tobirama-sensei's notes once. Just constructing seven basic anchors nearly tore my mind apart."

He rubbed his temples, as if feeling the pain again. Then he looked back at Ryo.

"So, listen. Don't rush. Don't copy blindly. When you write your sword technique notes, let me see them. I'll help you avoid the dead ends. So you don't end up in pieces."

The room smelled faintly of old paper and wood.

Ryo packed the scrolls, then stood.

"I owe you one," he said suddenly.

Hiruzen blinked.

"For that day," Ryo clarified, eyes calm. "For your protection."

Surprise flickered in Hiruzen's eyes, followed by something softer.

The tension between them eased.

So, the kid isn't completely cold after all.

Hiruzen chuckled quietly, polishing his pipe. "Didn't think the ice block could say something human." His tone was warm for once. "Alright. I'll remember this favor."

Ryo nodded, opened the door, and stepped out.

"I'll send the sword technique notes later," he said as he left.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Hiruzen sat alone in his vast office. The Book of Seals lay open on the desk, surrounded by the faint scent of tobacco and the lingering chill Ryo left behind.

The wind was gone. Silence returned.

It was as if the entire exchange, words, tension, forbidden arts, had been nothing but a fleeting illusion.

Hiruzen's smile faded into exhaustion.

He slumped in his chair. Schemes were useless with Ryo. Only honesty worked.

Among the mess of documents lay a scroll labeled: Team 8 — Tsunade, Ryo, Kushina, Mikoto.

Outside, the air over Konoha was taut like a drawn bowstring.

Hiruzen lit another pipe and took a slow drag.

For now, the mess was contained.

Once Tsunade returned, the battlefield in Ame would turn into hell itself.

He wondered how big a storm that boy would stir up in the Land of Rain.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 64: We’re So Close, But You’re Using Your Brain!?

The granite steps of the Hokage Building cast long, slanting shadows.
Kushina dragged Mikoto behind a pillar, her little face flushed with excited mischief.

"Mikoto, you know what?" She lowered her voice, a bit smug. "Ryo—he likes my feet!"

The air froze for a heartbeat.

Mikoto's eyes widened slightly. "No way? Ryo-kun, with that icy personality…"
Her gaze instinctively dropped to Kushina's feet in her ninja sandals—slightly dusty, but pale and delicate.

Her eyes flicked to her own feet beneath her skirt, just as slim and well-shaped in wooden clogs.

She shifted, pressing her soles lightly against the stone slab.

Mine aren't bad either…
The thought stabbed into her mind like an icicle, followed by a wave of burning shame that flooded her cheeks.

Uchiha Mikoto, what are you thinking?! she scolded herself inwardly. Kushina is your best friend!

"Hey! Mikoto?" Kushina waved a hand in front of her face, red hair leaning close, blue eyes full of suspicion. "Spacing out? Jaw drop, right? Hah!"

Mikoto snapped back, pinching her palm with her fingertips, forcing a flawless smile.
"Kushina, you… you're so lucky! I'm happy for you."

She paused, voice softening with a playful lilt as she deflected the topic.
"But you little minx, telling me this means you want your strategist to keep plotting for you, right? So, how do we bring him down next?"

"Mikoto! You get me!" Kushina puffed up proudly, her eyes sparkling. "We're besties! Thanks to you, Ryo and I have come this far! And in the future… my kids will call you godmother!" She thumped her chest solemnly.

"Mhm." Mikoto lowered her lashes, hiding the faint flash of sourness and unwillingness in her eyes, smiling gently. "We're best friends, of course."

Sunlight filtered through the columns, slicing patchwork shadows across the two girls.

Mikoto took a deep breath, then leaned close to Kushina's ear. Her warm breath brushed the redhead's small earlobe.

"Actually… I've got a brilliant idea. You can 'reward' Ryo-kun without looking too forward, and it'll make him even more attached—he'll treasure you himself…"
Her whispers were soft and quick, like fine raindrops tapping against Kushina's heart.

The details were impossible to hear.

But Kushina's vivid blue eyes widened, her pupils shrinking like a startled cat's. Her long lashes trembled rapidly.

The blush on her cheeks shot to her ears and down her neck, painting her face a ripe, glowing tomato.

Her body stiffened. Her toes curled uneasily in her sandals. She tried to press her knees together, then froze—like a puppet hung on invisible strings.

A tiny, almost inaudible whimper escaped her throat.

It was as if invisible sparks exploded between them.

Just then, the heavy dark door of the Hokage Building opened.

A tall figure stepped out into the sunlight—Ryo.

His face was calm as ever. Those silver eyes, faintly tinted red by the sun, swept over them and stopped on Kushina's flushed face.

A flicker of confusion crossed his gaze. What's with my little chili pepper today?

"Wah! Ryo!" Kushina reacted like a small animal with its tail stepped on. She bounced back a step, then slid forward again, fumbling to hide her blush.
"Y-You're out! That old—uh, Grandpa Third! Didn't give you trouble, right? If he dares bully you, I'll burn his precious beard right now!"

She babbled, trying to bury her slip under exaggerated bravado, her eyes darting everywhere but at Ryo.

Ryo's gaze paused on her flushed face, automatically ignoring her beard-burning threat. He walked up to her.

"It's fine. Good news."
His tone barely changed. He reached into his cloak, pulled out a pale yellow scroll, and handed it to her.
"Here. Multiple Shadow Clone Technique, A-rank. With your chakra reserves, it suits you."

The scroll felt cool in her hands as it unfurled. The bold inked characters seemed almost alive.

"Wah—A-rank!" Kushina gasped in delight. Her blush melted into excitement.

She caught the scroll instinctively. The cold paper felt warm in her hands now. She looked up at him, eyes shimmering like a lake full of stars. "Ryo, thank you…"

"Kushina." Ryo cut her off, brow twitching slightly. His voice was low, leaving no room for argument.

"Between us, don't say that again."

A strange warmth welled up in her chest, washing away her earlier embarrassment.

She sniffed, the shine in her eyes brightening. Forgetting all strategy, she lunged forward, clinging tightly to his arm, pressing close as she tilted her rosy face up.

"Okay! I won't say it!"

Her soft warmth and faint sun-dried scent surrounded him. Ryo's body stiffened slightly, but he didn't pull away.

He looked down at the fluffy red hair nestled against his arm and let out a quiet, resigned hum.

"Can't do anything about you."

He lifted his hand, dropping his palm onto her head—not gentle, even a bit rough—as he rubbed twice at her messy hair.

He avoided her forehead and cheeks with measured care, like a clumsy lion tending to something that belonged to him.

Only Kushina could feel that faint note of comfort in his touch.

The air went still. Even the wind curved around their corner.

A few steps away, Mikoto stood frozen like a porcelain doll in shadow.

The earlier "strategy talk"—that faint flutter over toes—faded into nothing.

She watched Kushina cling to Ryo's arm, watched Ryo—usually cold to everyone—deliver that awkward yet indulgent head rub, watched Kushina's goofy smile drown in sweetness.

A lump of cold lead settled in her stomach. The spark of thought and plan that had flared when she'd glanced at her own feet was smothered.

She could feel the warmth inside her chest cool rapidly to nothing.

Her nails dug deep into her palm. The sting brought a thin illusion of calm. Fine. Very fine, Kushina.

The corridor's stone columns stood grey and solemn. Light cut harsh lines across everything.

Only Kushina's red hair and the pale hand holding the scroll burned vividly bright.

Mikoto's heart twisted like the crescent mark in her palm.

She couldn't stay.

"Ahem…"

A deliberately muted cough broke the silence.

Ryo and Kushina turned at once.

Mikoto's head was slightly bowed. A few strands of black hair fell across her forehead, hiding half her face.

She hid her bleeding palm inside her sleeve, the other hand lifting to smooth a nonexistent stray hair near her temple.

The motion was stiff, as if to hide the tremble in her fingers.

Her voice came light and calm.
"Kushina, Ryo-kun, I… just remembered the clan elders assigned me something important. I have to go back before afternoon. It's urgent."
She didn't even try to make it sound convincing. "So… you two talk! Let's stop here today. I'll go now!"

Before the last word fell, she turned and fled, the hem of her kimono fluttering around her ankles.

Only then did Kushina seem to realize.
"Ah?" She blinked, loosening her grip on Ryo's arm, looking after Mikoto in a daze. "Clan business? Oh… Mikoto, you… take care!"

Her big eyes still held a trace of dampness, not fully understanding her friend's sudden exit. She waved the scroll without thinking.

Only afterward did something feel off.

She caught a glimpse of Mikoto's downcast eyes—dark and bottomless like a lake at night.

Then, as if startled by Ryo's calm scent, she instinctively leaned closer to him again, mumbling, "Then hurry home! Don't delay it!"
Her tone mixed real concern with a faint hint of possessiveness.

Mikoto swayed slightly. I shouldn't be here.

The next moment, she pivoted cleanly. Her dark braid flicked behind her as she walked away.

She didn't look back. Her steps tapped softly on the cold stone—tak, tak—fading into the wide plaza.

At the last moment before vanishing around the corner, her slender back straightened slightly, like a drawn bowstring.

But the shadows of the buildings swallowed her whole, leaving only silence and the faint trace of pride that Konoha's vastness quickly devoured.

"Hmph! This is all your fault!"

In the shadow of the pillar, Kushina suddenly kicked Ryo's calf—lightly, more a pout than a hit.

Her emotional wave had passed

Hands on hips, she glared at Ryo's calm face. "If you hadn't come out so suddenly, I wouldn't have lost face in front of Mikoto! You scared her off with that ice-face of yours! Hmph!"

The awkwardness from Mikoto's departure she redirected entirely toward Ryo, forgetting who had melted into their two-person world first.

Sunlight sliced through the gaps between columns, dust drifting in the golden air.

Kushina's blush hadn't fully faded. Mixed with her fiery glare, she looked like a sugar-coated chili pepper—bright and stinging.

She tilted her chin arrogantly, her sharp jawline cutting against the light and shadow.

"Hey! Mikoto's gone—what are you staring at?" Kushina waved her hand hard in front of Ryo's face, trying to pull back his attention.

Ryo drew his gaze from the corner where Mikoto had disappeared. The sunset stretched their shadows long across the ground. Kushina's waving arm shadow poked into his outline.

He looked down at her small, puffed-up face.

That unreadable chill he'd seen in Mikoto's eyes—like a deep current—slipped quietly from his thoughts.

His world steadied again, fixed on this burning splash of red before him.

"Nothing," Ryo said flatly, as if stating a fact.
He lifted his hand and lightly tapped his knuckles against Kushina's smooth forehead with unarguable force.

A soft bonk cut off the words she'd been winding up to yell.

"Ow!" Kushina covered her forehead, eyes round. "Why'd you hit me! Can't I complain a little? You—"

The rest faded.

Ryo's hand didn't leave her forehead. It slid down, warm and rough, brushing over her ear and tucking a strand of red hair aside.

His palm rested at the nape of her neck, firm yet strangely gentle—an undeniable command.

"Let's go." Ryo said simply, striding forward. Drawn by him, Kushina stumbled, then matched his pace.

Wide-eyed, she forgot her anger. All she could feel was the spot where he'd touched her neck, a tiny flame running down her spine and making her limbs weak.

Ryo's profile was calm in the fading light. He looked ahead, as if knocking her forehead and guiding her along were the most natural things in the world.

But that single gesture said more than any words could. She was his. No need for explanations.

The sunset stretched their shadows longer and longer. Kushina's steps shifted from passive to eager, until their two silhouettes on the road home overlapped, merging into one along the stone streets of Konoha.

A few fallen leaves spun in the breeze, settling behind them, left quietly in shadow.

(To be continued.)