STIN: Chapter 31/35

Chapter 31: Love Is War

The next morning, as usual, Ryo created a Kage Bunshin to attend class at the ninja academy.

His real body went to the village's ninja tool shop to order the "broken leg" prop for Nawaki, something he had promised Tsunade yesterday.

Class 5-A of the Ninja Academy, during break.

The cicadas chirped noisily outside, while the sun lazily streamed through the window.

The classroom was filled with that sticky, restless atmosphere unique to the eve of graduation.

Bang!

Kushina's head slammed heavily against the open textbook, Geography of the Land of Fire: A Study of Fortifications, for the third time.

Ink marks twisted and swirled before her eyes.

Once again, her peripheral vision swept toward the back corner by the window, uncontrollably.

That figure in his worn-out old clothes—Ryo.

His Kage Bunshin was sprawled out asleep.

And who knew where his real body had gone!

Kushina's cheeks puffed up unconsciously, her face flushed, and her heart pounded like a trapped rabbit.

Irritation, annoyance, and a strange panic crawled up her spine like vines, tightening more and more.

Graduation. Team assignments.

Those two words fell into her heart like cold meteorites, leaving behind a deep, scorched crater.

He was so strong.

So strong that he could defeat a genin in seconds, so strong that even Tsunade had to give it her all to act as his sparring partner.

After graduation?

How could someone like him possibly stay in the village as an ordinary genin?

And she…?

The secret weighing on her heart came from the occasional worried look in Grandma Mito's eyes—she was the new Nine-Tails Jinchūriki.

There was only one path for a Jinchūriki: confined inside the village, forced into silence as a cornerstone.

The cage door was about to close.

That!

Every… side…

"Hey! Ku-shina!" A sudden elbow jabbed her.

Kushina snapped out of her daze, realizing she had been staring at Ryo for far too long.

She turned around and met Uchiha Mikoto's sharp, pearl-like black eyes, which glimmered with amusement and understanding.

"Your soul's about to be sucked away by that sleeping redhead?" Mikoto leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper with a sly smile. "You're practically drooling."

"Who… who's looking at that big idiot!" Kushina's voice shot up as if her tail had been stepped on, drawing the attention of several students in the front row.

She immediately shrank back, her face turning even redder. Lowering her head like an ostrich, she muttered in a voice as soft as a mosquito, "I was just thinking about… team assignments…"

Mikoto didn't buy it.

She followed Kushina's gaze exactly, glanced at Ryo's clone snoring in the corner, then turned back to look at Kushina's red ears.

The knowing smile on her lips deepened.

"You're worried about Ryo. Worried that you won't be assigned to the same team, right?" Mikoto went straight to the point, tapping Kushina's desk with her finger.

"What if Ryo's team ends up with some pretty, cute, skilled girl who's exactly his type? Then they'll live and die together on missions, seeing each other every day. Ryo's so strong, who wouldn't admire him? Who wouldn't want to get close to him? And what if, just what if, that straight-faced blockhead develops a crack in his armor, and that girl takes the chance to swoop in?"

Boom!

The scene Mikoto painted exploded in Kushina's mind like a bomb.

A vague but graceful figure, smiling sweetly, clinging to Ryo.

Passing him water? Wiping his sweat? Even worse… tending to his wounds under the moonlight?!

"No! Impossible!!" Kushina's fur bristled, her red hair standing on end. Like a little lion defending its territory, she growled, "Ryo is a complete straight man! All he ever thinks about is barbecuing and training! Nothing else! What vixen could ever flirt her way into that? No way! He won't even look twice!"

Her tone was firm, as much to counter Mikoto as it was to convince herself.

She knew Ryo best! After two years of living together, how much meat had she stolen from him? How many times had he yelled, "Get lost," "You're too loud," or "Don't bother me while I'm sleeping"?

Around him, there was nothing but trouble.

And she was his biggest troublemaker.

But deep down, a sharp thorn pricked at her inflated confidence: Did Ryo really like her? Protecting her, feeding her meat, indulging her, carrying her home, playing with her…

Was it affection?

Or was it just because she was a "little troublemaker" who needed looking after?

Her certainty crumbled into unease.

Her shoulders slumped, her bright blue eyes misting over like a young animal abandoned in the rain.

She looked helplessly at Mikoto, her best friend who always had ideas.

A guilty thought flickered in her mind: What if… I asked Tsunade to put Mikoto on Ryo's team instead? Let Mikoto watch him for me…

"Stop right there!" Mikoto seemed to read her thoughts and rolled her eyes. "You want me to be your gatekeeper? Kushina! Naive! Passive! What if I can't watch him properly? What if I start watching him too much?" That last sentence was barely audible, her eyes drifting for a moment.

Mikoto took a deep breath and leaned closer to Kushina's ear, her voice low but filled with determination. "Kushina! Happiness isn't some fruit that falls from a tree. You have to climb up and pick it! If you're sure he's worth it, if you're this scared of losing him, then don't wait! Reserved? Forget that! Take the initiative! Make it a done deal, got it?"

Take the initiative!

Those words struck Kushina like a spark, igniting the fog in her eyes into blazing flames.

That's right! By the time that blockhead Ryo realizes, the chance might already be gone!

If you wait for the rabbit, you might not catch it and worse, someone else might take the nest.

Who had Uzumaki Kushina ever been afraid of?

Anyone who tried to take what was hers would face the wrath of the Red-Hot Habanero!

So what if it meant being more proactive?

She clenched her fists.

When she looked at Ryo again, there was no hesitation, only determination.

Mikoto was right. No illusions. Prepare to fight.

"Okay!" Kushina's voice wasn't loud, but it rang with power. Her face was flushed with excitement and nerves, and flames seemed to dance in her light blue eyes. "I'll do it! I'll take the initiative! Mikoto, teach me!"

Mikoto's eyes lit up, thrilled at the chance to finally showcase her "strategist" skills.

"That's it!" Mikoto put her arm around Kushina's shoulder, pulling her close. Her voice dropped, full of practical-sounding advice (though most of it was borrowed from girl's manga).

"Conventional tactics won't work on a man like Ryo. We need to cut the problem off at the root! There's only one principle: nonstop, irresistible, high-intensity close contact! Get him used to your presence until his wooden brain can't think of anything else but Uzumaki Kushina!"

Mikoto rattled off like she was giving battle orders: "Step one, invade his personal space completely! Stick to him like glue! After class? Ask him about ninjutsu! Walking home? Link arms naturally! Training break? Sit right next to him, shoulder to shoulder! When you pass him water, 'accidentally' touch his hand! Remember, 'accidentally' is the key! Make it look natural, leave him no excuse to refuse!"

"Step two, magnify your expressions! Eyes! Use admiration, anger, or tears—make him unable to look away! Voice! Soften it! Draw it out! End on a rise! 'Ryo~ help me~' Do you get the destructive power? Pout when necessary! Stomp your feet! Works like magic!"

"Step three, the ultimate weapon." Mikoto's tone dropped lower, filled with resolve. "Escalate physical contact! Hugs! Don't hesitate! Find excuses! Hug him when you win, hug him when you lose! Happy? Hug! Sad? Hug even more! If he's hurt, cry and rush into his arms! Use your warmth to break through his cold exterior! And then… then find your chance to kiss him! Cheek or corner of his mouth, doesn't matter. Kiss him, then run! Leave him standing there, exploding inside!"

Every word Mikoto said detonated in Kushina's mind, making her dizzy, her cheeks hot enough to fry an egg.

Hugging… she could just about imagine.

But kissing?!

Kushina felt like her brain was overheating, steam rising from her head.

"Mi… Mikoto…?" she stammered, staring at her best friend in disbelief.

"How do you even know all this? You're basically… an old driver of love!" She couldn't believe the usually composed Uchiha girl had such fierce and detailed strategies.

That kind of knowledge had to come from a mountain of girl's comics—or a pile of actual experience.

Mikoto's smile froze. The air hung still for a few seconds.

"Ahem…" Mikoto coughed lightly, suddenly embarrassed. She turned away, her earlobes faintly red. How could she admit it?

Should she say, "Actually, I once thought about going after Ryo, but his cold glare scared me off, and then you swooped in and stole the chance"?

Impossible! That shameful history would never be revealed.

She tugged at her sleeves, speaking vaguely, "Of course I had to arm myself with theory! I was worried about my best friend's happiness! Enough nonsense. The battle starts now! Let's see how well you execute, Kushina!"

(To be continued.)

Chapter 32: Operation Elbow Hook, Commence

The warm afternoon sun, filtered through the leaves, lazily dappled the dirt roads of Konoha.

Ryo had just stepped out of the stuffy air of the ninja tool shop, which reeked of saltpeter and metal, a heavy, slightly stiff sealed scroll now in his hand.

The shop owner's old face, crisscrossed with wrinkles, still wore a smile, but the probing look in his eyes was as sharp as a needle, clearly piqued by the custom-made items Ryo had ordered.

"Explosive tags too weak to kill a ninja? Heh, kid, play with fire and you might burn yourself…" The old man smacked his lips, his voice drifting into Ryo's ear, neither too loud nor too soft.

Ryo merely pretended not to hear, casually tucking the scroll deep into his ninja tool pouch. Too weak?

A precisely controlled burst was more than enough to break bones, especially the leg bone of a half-grown kid like Nawaki, who was not invulnerable. It was sufficient.

He continued his stride, his destination clear, the Ninja Academy.

After picking up Kushina, the next step was the planned "accident."

The old gate of the Ninja Academy, painted a cream yellow, was visible in the distance.

The afternoon dismissal bell had just ceased, and the lingering scent of dust from frantic running still hung in the air of the playground.

Ryo stood like a stone statue, leaning against the luxuriant phoenix tree beside the school gate, its shadow engulfing most of his figure.

The iron gate of the Ninja Academy clanged open with a forceful push, and a tide of students surged out, their noise reaching a fever pitch.

Amidst the surging crowd, that fiery red hair was still dazzling, like a vibrant banner.

Uzumaki Kushina walked out of the school gate, close beside Uchiha Mikoto, a trace of unspent heat still on her small face.

Mikoto was rapidly whispering something into Kushina's ear, her black hair brushing against her fair cheek, her eyes sparkling.

As Kushina listened, the blush that had faded from her cheeks suddenly flared up again, more vivid than her red hair, her earlobes glowing like ripe fruit.

She quickly glanced towards the school gate, and when she caught sight of the familiar figure under the phoenix tree, a flicker of imperceptible panic and desperate resolve crossed her eyes.

Through the surging crowd, Ryo naturally saw them too.

He frowned slightly. Kushina's expression was off.

The usually fiery red pepper now had flickering eyes and hesitant steps.

And beside her, Mikoto, the usually composed and proper Uchiha young lady, had a curve to her lips that held a hint of playful teasing and encouragement, like a mastermind.

A faint alarm bell rang in Ryo's mind.

Sure enough, Mikoto gave Kushina a push on her back, not hard, but with an undeniable urgency.

Kushina stiffened for a moment, like a fighting cock suddenly thrown into the ring, then took a deep breath, as if that air injected immense courage into her.

She abruptly quickened her pace, not bouncing over to tug at his sleeve as usual, but instead, with an extremely clear objective, almost braving the curious or knowing gazes of her classmates, she charged straight towards him.

Then, under Ryo's slightly puzzled gaze, Kushina unhesitatingly reached out both hands and tightly linked them through his right arm, which hung at his side, as if grasping a lifesaver.

The sunlight caught his sharply defined profile, reflecting the faint flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Warmth spread from his right arm—soft, delicate, yet firm. The girl's body heat seeped through the thin fabric, carried with a nervous tremble, but her grip was tight, clinging like a vine wrapped stubbornly around a tree trunk.

Ryo shifted slightly, intending to free himself, but the small hands clutching his arm were fastened like welded clasps, tightening the more he moved.

That made him pause. She was acting strangely.

"Let go." Ryo's voice was low and steady, carrying a suppressed edge, his gaze fixed on the stubborn little swirl of hair on top of Kushina's head.

His expression remained impassive, though his arm felt uncomfortably restrained.

Kushina looked up abruptly like a startled rabbit, her eyes astonishingly bright, with a look of desperate resolve, glaring back without showing weakness. "No!"

Her voice was a little sharp, and her confidence seemed to still be floating in the air, her gaze unconsciously darting to the side.

Ryo followed her gaze. Not far away, amidst the bustling crowd, Uchiha Mikoto stood with her arms crossed, waving a small fist towards them in a "loving" gesture, mouthing silently, "Go for it!"

So, someone really was giving advice.

A barely perceptible vein twitched on Ryo's forehead.

He tried to pull his arm away with more force, but the resistance was… odd.

Thin as Kushina looked, the Uzumaki bloodline was no joke. Her deceptively slender arms locked around him with surprising strength. For a moment, even he couldn't break free easily.

Or perhaps, it was the unfamiliar, soft warmth that kept his strength in check, making his movements less decisive than usual.

It was strange.

Strange—yet not unpleasant.

"Let go. People are staring."

"No!" Kushina bit her lower lip, her gaze wavering for a moment, then gathering into stubborn persistence. "What is wrong with me holding your arm? Everyone does it!"

Her gaze darted around, sweeping over several pairs of students walking side by side or with linked arms.

Ryo had no rebuttal.

He caught sight of the curious stares around them, attention steadily gathering on the unusual pair. He didn't like being the focus of a crowd.

The longer this dragged on, the worse it would become.

So, under the prickling pressure of countless eyes, he took the initiative, his right foot stepping forward, calm and deliberate.

He wasn't being dragged. He was moving first.

Kushina clung to his arm like an ornament, her presence light yet burning. With every step, her grip drew out the warmth of her body, making the sensation harder to ignore.

Kushina's heart pounded in her chest, almost exploding.

Success.

First step.

Mikoto's plan—breaking through the "comfort zone"—was working exactly as she said.

Her face burned like fire, but she could not help trying to curve her lips up, which she forcefully suppressed.

She could only bury her head lower, her gaze fixed on the backs of her feet, letting that irresistible blush spread from her neck all the way to her hairline, hotter than flames.

The familiar path back to the Senju compound seemed exceptionally long today.

Every bend, every uneven step, tested Ryo's composure.

Her arm was like a warm shackle, restraining his usual indifference and replacing it with an unfamiliar, unsteady rhythm.

He could clearly feel the pressure of her fingertips through the fabric, and the subtle, continuous throb of her heartbeat transmitted through the thin material.

Finally, the ancient and heavy black-lacquered gate of the Senju clan came into view, with no idlers at the entrance.

As soon as that symbolic black-lacquered gate entered his line of sight, Ryo, almost with a sigh of relief, suddenly yanked his arm free.

"Ah!" Kushina was caught off guard, letting out a surprised cry, her arm losing strength and loosening its grip.

The warmth that had been intimately connected was instantly severed.

Ryo did not even glance at her, sidestepping into the open gate.

Kushina lingered at the entrance, staring at her empty hand. Then, a sly little smile tugged at her lips.

Effective. Absolutely effective.

This strategy really worked.

Taking two deep breaths, she also quickly stepped through the gate.

This was Grandma Mito's house. She would not dare to act as wildly as she did outside.

In the spacious courtyard, a tranquility more oppressive than the afternoon sun permeated the air.

Nawaki leaned against a corridor pillar, his eyes somewhat glazed as he watched the two enter one after another, their atmosphere inexplicably strange.

Ryo was a rare sight here, or rather, it was rare for him to actively step inside the threshold, and Kushina's flushed little face exuded an unspeakable excitement.

Nawaki unconsciously scratched his unruly black hair, confused. "Ryo? How did you… come in?"

Ryo did not stop, walking straight toward the direction from which the smell of food wafted, his voice steady, betraying no emotion. "Tsunade called me."

Concise and to the point, it stifled Nawaki's belly full of curiosity.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 33: Nawaki’s Battle

In the evening, the air in the Senju clan's main residence was as heavy as stagnant water.

Ryo's gaze swept over the frail old woman in the main seat.

Uzumaki Mito's aging was shocking. In just two years, her crimson hair had withered like autumn grass, and her wrinkles were as deep as knife cuts.

Years of battling the corrosive power of the Nine-Tails had continuously depleted Mito's vitality.

Even the Uzumaki clan's longevity, and the Yin Seal that promised youthful looks, could not hold out.

Ryo's gaze shifted to Tsunade by the dining table, and he gave a barely perceptible nod.

Just a moment ago, he had found a chance to tell Tsunade his plan, to shatter Nawaki's blind battlefield fantasies with a seemingly perilous real combat exercise.

Tsunade knitted her brows as she took the special explosive tags, her fingertips glowing faintly with chakra.

Fine chakra threads probed into the paper, precisely inspecting it.

After a moment, she looked up to meet Ryo's calm gaze and let out an almost inaudible "Hmm."

The chakra explosion range was limited to the epidermis, and the impact was concentrated and directed. It would only injure, not cripple.

She pushed the tags back into Ryo's hand, tapping the corner three times with her thumb. Plan approved.

Uzumaki Mito's hand, holding her teacup, paused. Her peripheral vision caught her granddaughter's tensed jawline, then fell upon the tags Ryo had put away.

A flicker of understanding passed through the old woman's cloudy eyes, and her leaf-like lips pressed into a flat line. That was the silent acquiescence of the Senju clan head.

The steam and aroma of oil and salt drifting from the kitchen barely stirred the air, yet they brought a deeper, sticky sensation.

Ryo watched Nawaki across the table devour the last mouthfuls of rice like a whirlwind. A strange heaviness settled in his own stomach.

Nawaki's chopsticks clinked against the bowl, his eyes sparkling with a fiery intensity, full of youthful ambition and battle lust, burning with desire and imagination for the battlefield. Ryo knew that light well. It belonged to a newborn calf, untested by wind and rain, unaware of how flesh and blood are ground into mud. Clear, yet foolish.

He could almost smell the blind excitement radiating from Nawaki.

The fastest to die on the battlefield were these hotheads.

"Sis, this time, following Orochimaru-sensei, during the mission…" Nawaki put down his bowl, his voice rising sharply. "I personally took down a…"

"Hmm, got it," Tsunade cut him off coolly, picking up the last piece of pickled radish with her chopsticks and biting into it with a crisp snap that ended Nawaki's animated speech.

Nawaki was like a duck with its neck squeezed, his words stuck in his throat. His excitement deflated, and an awkward blush spread across his face.

Ryo silently put down his bowl.

Under the table, Tsunade's foot accurately tapped his ankle, not too hard, not too soft, urging him on.

The show was about to begin.

He looked up at Tsunade.

Tsunade's eyelids were lowered, her long eyelashes casting a small shadow on her cheek. Deep within that shadow lay undeniable resolve.

Uzumaki Mito softly "hmm"-ed, a whisper as faint as wind rustling withered leaves, yet it carried the heavy weight of silent consent.

The dining table was cleared, but the atmosphere tightened even more, like a taut bowstring.

"Nawaki," Tsunade lifted her eyes, her gaze heavy, pressing down on her younger brother. "Do you really want to go to the battlefield?"

"Of course." Nawaki straightened his back as if injected with a stimulant, the extinguished flame in his eyes flaring again. "I am the heir of the Senju. I want to become a great Hokage like Grandpa. How can I hide in the village?"

Mito's fingers, holding the teacup, tightened slightly, her knuckles turning pale.

Ryo caught the fleeting hint of pain in the old woman's eyes.

Tsunade's face did not soften. "Whether you are a Senju or the Hokage's grandson," each word fell like ice on stone, "speak with strength. Shouting slogans and running to the battlefield is suicide."

Nawaki's face turned beet red, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "Sis. I'm not an academy rookie anymore. I have followed Orochimaru-sensei for over a year…"

He was eager to prove himself, but when he met Tsunade's icy gaze, his momentum faltered at the end.

"Proof?" Tsunade snorted. "Good. I will give you a chance. Beat him."

She jerked her chin at Ryo. "If you beat Ryo, forget the battlefield. I will go talk to the Hokage for you and have you put in charge of important missions. If you cannot beat him, drop the idea early."

Nawaki's gaze snapped to Ryo's face, shock, anger, fear, and disbelief mixing, then hardening into humiliation at being underestimated. His eyes burned red.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.

Kushina even jumped up, her small face pale. "Tsunade-neechan. No, this will not do. Ryo, he…"

She wanted to say Ryo was too strong and did not hold back, so how could Nawaki fight him.

But seeing Tsunade's iron-cold expression, she swallowed the rest.

"Sis, you know…" Nawaki's voice trembled with fear of Ryo.

Tsunade cut him off. "Are you fighting or not. One word."

She crossed her arms. Her aura locked down the space, the air turning to lead.

Nawaki's chest heaved, his teeth grinding audibly.

His gaze swept over Mito's expressionless face. The silent worry in his grandmother's eyes pricked him like a needle.

His pride surged like boiling lava. He stomped his foot, the wooden floor groaning. "If I have to fight, I will fight. What is there to be afraid of."

He strode toward the center of the backyard's open space, each step causing a slight tremor, filled with desperate resolve.

The wind ruffled his bangs, his back burning with anger and a make-or-break courage.

"Ryo." Kushina urgently grabbed Ryo's arm, her lowered voice laced with panic and pleading. "You must go easy on him."

Her moist eyes reflected Ryo's expressionless face, her small face full of entreaty.

Ryo's gaze lingered on her for a moment, calm. "Relax. I will not use sword techniques, or taijutsu."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Nawaki, who stood tense like a bull in the center. "Today, I will only use the Academy Three, and one new ninjutsu."

Kushina opened her mouth, but her words stuck. Her worry did not lessen. It spread like cold vines through her chest.

Ryo did not look at her again, walking directly to face Nawaki.

"Only the Academy Three and a new ninjutsu?" Nawaki sounded as if he had heard a joke. His twisted smile showed contempt and irritation. "Are you looking down on me, Ryo?"

Ryo's answer was a flurry of hand signs, his hands moving like a butterfly dance, completed in an instant. "Ninpō: Bunshin no Jutsu."

Bang bang bang.

White smoke burst out, and several Ryo figures appeared at once, scattered irregularly, vaguely surrounding Nawaki.

The movements were so fast that only afterimages remained on Nawaki's retina.

Nawaki's pupils contracted. The speed of this Bunshin no Jutsu was astonishing, but his reaction was also quick. "Hmph. Suiton, Mizurappa (Water Release: Wild Water Wave)."

His hand signs were equally swift. Water roared from his mouth, crashing into the clones in front.

Puff puff puff.

The clones disintegrated under the impact, turning into white smoke.

However, just as the Wild Water Wave's power was about to dissipate, Nawaki's peripheral vision caught something, a gust of wind from the smoke on the left.

One Ryo, using the brief cover of water mist and smoke, lunged forward.

His right palm extended, and above its center, a rapidly spinning, compressed ball of chakra churned the air, emitting a low, piercing hum like venomous bees circling at low altitude. It tore through the calm air.

What is that.

Nawaki's scalp prickled.

Training instincts kicked in. He twisted his body to the right with incredible flexibility.

The Rasengan, with its air-tearing roar, whizzed past the space under his ribs. The heat from its terrifying rotation scorched his skin.

Nawaki broke into a cold sweat, no longer daring to show contempt.

Even without sword techniques or taijutsu, the pressure from this new ninjutsu was terrifying.

He quickly retreated to create distance, then formed another Water Release hand sign. "Suiton, Suijinheki (Water Formation Wall)."

Splash.

A thick wall of water rose from the ground, instantly separating him and Ryo.

The water curtain shimmered, reflecting Ryo's calm face, and distorting the lingering shock in his own eyes.

But Ryo gave Nawaki no chance to breathe.

Only scattered white smoke remained where he had stood. His true body had already used Kawarimi no Jutsu (Body Replacement Technique) to move to Nawaki's side and rear.

"Here." Nawaki growled, his combat instincts sensing the direction, and he formed hand signs again. "Suiton, Suishōha (Water Shockwave Wave)." Denser streams of water, like a bursting dam, rushed toward Ryo, who had just revealed himself.

But Ryo seemed to have predicted it. A fraction of a second before the Water Shockwave fully formed, he crouched and pushed off, moving like a swallow skimming the ground, narrowly dodging the surging water.

Splashing droplets grazed his hair and the edges of his clothes.

Nawaki's heart sank. Ryo's speed and foresight were terrifying.

His Suiton was powerful enough to defeat ordinary chūnin, but if it could not hit, it was wasted effort.

He changed strategy, trying to suppress Ryo with continuous Wild Water Waves. "Ha. Ha."

With each shout, streams of water crisscrossed, splashing mud and water, filling the air with a damp chill. Yet Ryo's figure always slipped through the gaps with despairing agility.

"Damn it." Impatience grew in Nawaki's heart like vines choking reason. "Then do not blame me. Suiton, Suiryūdan no Jutsu (Water Dragon Bullet Technique)."

Nawaki abandoned all reservations. His chakra surged at full power, and his hand signs turned complex and solemn.

Heavy water vapor rapidly condensed, and a huge dragon-shaped mass of water twisted into form. Its scales and claws still held the blur of a novice's jutsu, but its power far exceeded ordinary Suiton.

Kushina cried out in alarm. "Nawaki-nii."

(To be continued.)

Chapter 34: Death By Explosion

A giant dragon roared, carrying an irresistibly powerful current, and slammed into Ryo in the center of the arena.

The entire backyard seemed to be enveloped by its massive shadow.

Ryo faced the rushing Suiryūdan no Jutsu with an impassive face.

His body sank slightly, his center of gravity pressed low. The muscles of his right arm bulged, and the blue Rasengan in his palm suddenly hummed at high speed, its brightness surging.

The terrifying rotational force of the condensed chakra stirred the air, forming a small vortex centered on the Rasengan.

Facing the crashing dragon head, he showed no intention of dodging.

A head-on clash?

No.

Just as the dragon head, carrying immense power, was about to engulf him, Ryo twisted his body sideways like a ghost.

He did not charge head-on into the energy core of the jutsu.

His right palm, wrapped in the fiercely spinning Rasengan, moved like a precise mechanical arm, tracing an ingenious trajectory. It was precise and ruthless, yet contained a yielding roundness, pressing against a weak chakra node slightly behind the right side of the dragon's head, three inches below the "neck."

This was not brute force. It was like a butcher dismembering an ox.

Buzz. Sizzle.

The high-speed rotational cutting of the Rasengan took effect instantly.

The dragon's head was torn apart like it had been fed into an invisible blade wheel. Its structure collapsed in an instant.

The violent chakra flow was twisted and ripped apart.

Boom.

The subsequent mass of water lost control. Without the dragon head's guidance, it swept everywhere like a bursting mountain flood.

Droplets turned into a downpour, pounding roofs and walls with incessant rattling.

The courtyard ground, once only patchy with wet, became a muddy puddle.

The enormous backlash made Nawaki's chest churn, and he stumbled back several steps before he stabilized.

He stared, stunned, at the shattered water dragon turning into a sky full of spray.

This overturned his understanding. His strongest attack, the B-rank Suiryūdan no Jutsu, had been dispersed by a ninjutsu he had never heard of.

"What… what was that?" Nawaki asked, his voice lost.

"Rasengan." Ryo uttered three words.

He stood by the muddy puddle, splashed with water, his breathing steady.

Looking at Nawaki's bewildered, flustered face, Ryo felt no smugness.

The timing was perfect.

Ryo formed hand signs again. "Bunshin no Jutsu." White smoke spread, and several clones reappeared, like a trained pack of wolves, launching feints from different directions.

After the mental shock of his failed dragon, Nawaki's reactions had dulled.

Several clones surged forward. Nawaki's nerves stretched taut. He hastily formed hand signs. "Suiton, Suij…" The Suijinheki (Water Formation Wall) had only risen halfway when his movement suddenly paused.

A Ryo clone on the left, rushing closer, suddenly slipped, staggering on the muddy ground as if losing footing, exposing a clear gap in its chest and abdomen.

This sliver of a flaw was like a desert spring in Nawaki's overworked mind.

Accumulated anger and unwillingness, humiliation suppressed to madness, instantly became fuel driven by instinct.

"Opportunity." A sharp glint flashed in Nawaki's eyes. The last shred of rationality was overwhelmed.

He ignored Suiton defense and tactics, roaring, "Break him."

He drove off the muddy ground and charged at the "Ryo" that had exposed a weakness.

All his chakra condensed into his fist. He aimed to slam it into the center of that staggering clone's chest, to blast this annoying Ryo apart himself.

"Die." Nawaki's roar carried the sudden release of ecstasy and relief.

Bang.

The unadorned fist struck true.

That "Ryo" exploded into a cloud of white smoke. A clone.

The impact twisted Nawaki's ferocity into a grim, triumphant smile, as if he had avenged a great enemy.

However.

As the white smoke burst and the clone dispersed, an ominous orange-red light, like a demon's eye, pierced from the core of the dissipating smoke. Then—

Boom.

Orange-red flames and precisely controlled shockwaves, like a chained beast, tore through smoke and dust, violent yet restrained.

At the moment Nawaki's fist touched the clone, his weight was pitched forward, his defense at its weakest, and that triumphant face, inches from the blast point, had not even finished its smile.

This was not a clone being destroyed.

It was a trap, preloaded with special explosive tags and detonated on cue.

Nawaki's triumph froze into horror before it could turn to shock.

He had no time to pull back, form hand signs, or gather protective chakra. The distance was too close, the explosion too violent. The instant he saw the flare, the shockwave had already hit.

It's over.

"Ah—"

Nawaki's scream began, then was swallowed by the roar.

He flew several meters like a rag doll, then crashed into the muddy pit.

Plop.

Blood spread through the mud, glaring and red.

Nawaki's legs were torn and twisted, stark white bone fragments showing.

His eyes rolled back and he passed out, the grim triumph still stuck on his face.

"Nawaki-nii." Kushina's heart-wrenching scream pierced the fading echoes.

The smoke had not fully dissipated when Tsunade shot forward.

She moved so fast only an afterimage remained.

Plop.

She knelt in the mud, splashing murky water.

Her hands moved like lightning. A dense, tangible green chakra gathered in her palms.

"Nawaki." Tsunade's roar was urgent, but her hands were iron-steady as she pressed the Shōsen Jutsu (Mystical Palm Technique) onto the bloody, profusely bleeding fracture.

Sizzle.

The sharp, powerful stimulation of the Mystical Palm Technique plunged into Nawaki's body.

"Ugh, ah—" Nawaki's body jolted as if electrocuted. A broken whimper squeezed from his throat, then he went limp.

Uzumaki Mito walked over silently, her hunched back straightening.

Her cloudy eyes swept over the black-red puddle, over Nawaki's mangled legs, and finally rested on Ryo.

That gaze was bottomless, heavy as lead.

She did not speak. She extended a withered hand to press firmly on Nawaki's uninjured forearm, as if to hold something steady.

Ryo could feel a subtle, almost imperceptible tremor in her hand.

Ryo stood still, the blast's dust shaking from his clothes.

His face was expressionless, calm as if he had brushed off some dirt.

His eyes met Tsunade's glance.

Tsunade's eyes were like hot iron, filled with rage, icy reproach, and something too complex to untangle, locking onto Ryo.

"Ryo." She roared, her voice scraping bone.

The meaning was clear. Explain yourself.

Ryo sneered inwardly. Keep acting. I will carry the blame.

He lowered his eyelids, avoiding her murderous stare, but his gaze, unfortunately, fell on the frozen figure beside him.

Kushina looked struck by lightning, rooted to the spot.

A few strands of hair were disheveled by the blast.

The color drained from her face. Her lips trembled, but no sound came.

Her light blue eyes were full of shock, panic, and fear on the verge of breaking.

Most of that fear was not directed at Nawaki.

Her gaze darted between Ryo, Tsunade, and Mito.

Mito was too calm.

So calm it made her uneasy.

Tsunade's fury looked like it would tear Ryo apart on the spot.

It is over. Kushina's mind roared.

Grandma would drive Ryo away and never let her see him again.

That thought gripped her heart like a demon's claw, suffocating her.

Tears welled up, filming her terrified eyes with desperate moisture.

Uzumaki Mito let out a long breath, as if setting down a burden.

She patted Nawaki's uninjured arm, then straightened.

Her cloudy gaze swept the scene, landed on Kushina's distraught face, then turned to Ryo.

"Tsunade," Mito's voice was steady and carried undeniable weight, "take Nawaki to the hospital and treat him carefully. Ryo, you stay."

"Grandma." Kushina, like a cat with its tail stepped on, pounced toward Mito, her voice trembling with a sob. "Nawaki-nii, he…"

Mito's withered yet strong hand caught Kushina's clenched fist, pulling her close.

Her other hand supported Kushina's weak shoulders, sheltering her under her wing.

"Understood, Grandma." Tsunade growled low, deftly lifting the unconscious Nawaki and shielding his vital points.

Before leaving, she glared fiercely at Ryo, eyes like they could eat him.

There was acting in that, and real anger at her brother's state.

Holding Nawaki, she rushed out through the courtyard gate like the wind and vanished.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 35: Kushina Short-Circuits

The messy scene in the backyard was mostly cleared in an instant.

The lingering smell of blood mixed with mud stung their noses, leaving only silent wreckage and a few people standing in a daze.

Kushina bit her lip hard, almost tasting iron. Her whole body still trembled slightly, half from fright, half from immense confusion and fear.

Her grandmother's presence beside her was like a giant iceberg, exuding a chilling coldness.

She did not dare to look up, only felt Mito's grip on her hand tighten. That hand was rough and warm, carrying a strange, heavy strength.

Mito did not speak immediately.

She pulled Kushina forward two steps, her gaze sweeping over the muddy pit where Nawaki had fallen. The congealed black and red bloodstains were particularly jarring.

Mixed in were a few blown-up, charred scraps of fabric.

The old woman's gaze paused for a moment, extremely brief, so brief it could have been an illusion.

Then she turned to Kushina, her tone calm and seasoned, yet carrying an unmistakable conclusion. "Kushina, in real combat drills, there will always be injuries."

Kushina looked up sharply, eyes wide with disbelief.

Grandma is…

Mito seemed oblivious to her shock, continuing in a steady, unhurried voice. "This time, it is not Ryo's fault."

This sentence blocked all of Kushina's attempts to plead for Ryo. "Your brother Nawaki has been graduated for over a year now. He could not see such an obvious trap."

Mito's voice even carried a hint of sternness, disappointment at his failure. "He deserves to be injured."

Deserves, deserves?

The words lashed at Kushina's heart like a whip.

Were those words spoken by the grandma who doted on Nawaki?

Nawaki was lying in a pool of blood, bone showing.

Tears gushed out, blurring her vision. "But, Grandma…"

"No buts." Mito cut her off decisively, tightening her grip on Kushina's hand a little more. Her eyes, which had seen through the ways of the world, fixed on her granddaughter's tear-filled gaze.

"With your sister Tsunade here, Nawaki will be fine. Her medical ninjutsu can pull back someone with half a life left, let alone a serious flesh and bone injury. What are you worrying about?"

Kushina was stunned by this barrage of conclusions, tears clinging to her lashes as she stared blankly at her grandmother.

Her calm, almost cruel tone, the unquestionable attitude, was like a basin of ice water, freezing her burning anger and worry for Ryo.

Logically, it seemed to make sense. Nawaki did rush into the trap himself, and Ryo did not use sword or taijutsu, only clones, the Academy Three, and that new jutsu. But he still used explosive tags.

She suddenly turned her head, her gaze piercing the lingering smoke, glaring at Ryo with a mix of grievance and resentment.

Why was he so ruthless?

What if Mito really was not reasonable?

What if she got angry and wanted Ryo's life?

These fears almost tore her apart.

She clasped her fingers tightly, not even noticing her nails digging into her palms.

Ryo sneered inwardly, wanting to throw the truth in her face. Silly girl. Your grandma and your sister conspired with me to do this. All to break the leg of that reckless Nawaki who is eager to rush to the battlefield and die. To make him lie quietly in a hospital bed for a few months. To keep him from ending up a corpse on the battlefield next time.

That truth was too cruel, and too absurd.

Ryo forced down the impulse.

With Kushina's quick temper and inability to keep secrets, she would shout it at the barely conscious Nawaki in Konoha Hospital within half a day.

If Nawaki learned from her that this "bloody lesson" was orchestrated by his sister and grandmother, Ryo did not want to imagine the outcome.

Nawaki would probably collapse and question his life. Was he really "their own"?

What a huge irony.

While Kushina was left speechless by Mito's "conclusion," Ryo took a step forward, breaking the eerie silence.

He looked at Mito, his posture neither humble nor arrogant, with a hint of a junior's respect. "Mito-sama, I am very sorry about Nawaki. Although it was necessary for the drill, he was indeed injured."

Mito nodded slightly, her face unreadable. "As long as you know the limits. Ruthless, but leaving room. Tsunade can heal Nawaki, let him lie down for a few months, cool his head, and keep him from running to the battlefield and not coming back."

Mito spoke directly, without any attempt to conceal her meaning.

Ryo understood and got straight to the point. "That is Nawaki. I want to bring up another matter."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the still-dazed Kushina. "There is still some time until graduation. The battlefield situation is getting worse by the day. Kushina, she…" He left it there.

He saw Mito's eyelid twitch slightly.

"My meaning is, during this period before graduation, I want to arrange special training for Kushina." Ryo stated his purpose. "Mainly practical combat response and the mastery of a special ninjutsu."

He did not mention the name, but his gaze drifted to Kushina's face.

Her eyes had gone wide when she saw him dismantle Nawaki's Suiryūdan with the Rasengan.

Mito scrutinized Ryo.

Tsunade had already informed her of the boy's true strength.

Elite jōnin, without a doubt.

Hiruzen might not know Ryo's capabilities, but she did.

Entrusting Kushina to him for a time, to push her strength before war broke out, was a worthwhile deal.

Kushina, who carried the remaining hope of Uzushiogakure, had, in these two years, come to see Konoha as home.

Mito saw it clearly.

Kushina's sense of belonging no longer needed proof from sitting in a classroom.

Besides, there was a better bond.

This girl had tied her heart to Ryo.

She should give them space and let their relationship progress.

"Strength," Mito finally said, steady as ever, "is crucial. It is always good for Konoha to have more power."

She looked at Ryo, a flicker of approval in her cloudy eyes. "I will leave Kushina with you for a few months. Arrange it as you see fit. I will not interfere."

The last four words were both trust and acknowledgment.

Beside him, Kushina felt dazed, her ears buzzing ever since Ryo mentioned special training for her.

What battlefield. What special training. What were Grandma and Ryo talking about.

Her sluggish mind turned like old gears.

Just now, she was fearing her brother's injury and Ryo's reckoning. How did it jump to her getting individual special training with Ryo.

Not only did Grandma not blame him for injuring Nawaki, she agreed to let him train her.

When Mito's words, "I will leave Kushina with you for a few months," reached her, what exploded was not thunder, but a scorching current rushing to her head.

Her previously pale face turned red like a cooked shrimp.

Ryo, alone, guidance.

"Whoosh." Mikoto's "Ryo Emotional Progression" strategies flashed before her eyes, creating physical contact, hugs, even kisses.

Boom.

Kushina felt her scalp steam. Her whole body went dizzy, as if she were soaking in a honey hot spring, her feet floating.

Ryo's peripheral vision caught her rapidly rising blush, and he clicked his tongue inwardly.

"I understand, Mito-sama." Ryo bowed slightly. "I will arrange time and place. I will not delay Kushina's basic fūinjutsu studies with you. As for the academy…"

"Hmph, a few months of practical experience is worth years of wasted time there. If she graduates early, so be it. I will talk to Sarutobi." Mito's tone was flat, but her words carried the assertiveness of Konoha's ruler.

"Thank you." Ryo's goal achieved, the curve of his mouth flattened. His gaze turned to Kushina, who was still in a steam-engine state.

The instant their eyes met, she dropped her gaze as if scalded, fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes. Color rushed from her neck to the tips of her ears, and even her unruly red cowlick seemed to droop in embarrassment

"Then I will not disturb you further today." Ryo took his leave. This was not the place to linger. He had taken the blame and achieved his goal. Time to go. "I will make time to visit Nawaki."

Mito waved her hand. A hint of fatigue flashed in her eyes, tacit consent given.

Ryo turned and left, his steps swift and decisive, quickly crossing the messy courtyard and disappearing under the porch at the gate.

The moment he left, the taut string in the backyard seemed to loosen a little.

Mito turned her head, her gaze falling on her little granddaughter, who had not yet emerged from her tangle of emotions.

Kushina was still immersed in the idea of being "specially trained" by Ryo, her face red, wearing the dazed look of someone who had survived a calamity, mixed with a shy anticipation she could not put into words.

(To be continued.)