Rin stopped walking and turned to Kurenai, her expression serious. "May I ask why? You and Youyu-kun haven't interacted much."
Kurenai met Rin's gaze, equally serious. "Because Youyu is the best."
Admiration shone in Rin's eyes. Though Youyu was an infamous drunk, his good looks were undeniable. More importantly, he was one of the most
gifted
shinobi since the founding of Konoha's Ninja Academy. Even Kakashi Hatake, son of Konoha's White Fang and hailed as a prodigy, had lost to him. At just eight years old, Youyu had
obliterated
a Chunin teacher with a single strike. Though it was still early for him to graduate, no one questioned that he was already the strongest in the academy.
And Rin admired
strength
above all else.
Kurenai's expression wavered, then hardened with determination. "I won't let you have Youyu-kun so easily."
Rin tilted her head in confusion. "Then why do
you
like him?" She had known Kurenai for some time, though they weren't particularly close. Kurenai wasn't the type to be drawn in by raw power alone—so why?
Kurenai's face suddenly turned bright red. "Enough talk! From now on, we're rivals!" she declared before sprinting away as if escaping.
Rin blinked, watching her go. "What the...?" She muttered, before clenching her fists. "Hmph. Doesn't matter. I won't let Youyu go without a fight." With newfound determination, she turned toward home.
After running a fair distance, Kurenai finally stopped, panting slightly. Her mind was still reeling.
What was that?
Even she wasn't sure why she had reacted that way. Then, she caught a faint scent in the air.
"Youyu-kun..." She murmured, her delicate nose twitching as she inhaled.
Unlike Rin, her feelings weren't admiration—they were
infatuation
. And it all started because of
Youyu's drinking
.
Kurenai had always been fascinated by alcohol. She was too young to drink, of course, but the scent alone was something she
adored
. When Youyu first started drinking in class, most people were annoyed or terrified—
but she found herself drawn to it
.
The usual smell of drunkenness was repulsive, yet
Youyu's scent
was
different
. His entire body exuded a rich, mellow aroma, nothing like the nauseating stench of a common drunkard. It was intoxicating in the best way, something
only he had
.
She clenched her fists, her red eyes burning with resolve. "I
won't
lose."
Meanwhile, at the Sarutobi Household
The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, sat in his home, a cigarette between his fingers. His once youthful face was starting to show the weight of years, though he was still far from the aged man he would become. "Asuma still won't come out?"
His wife, Biwako Sarutobi, sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with him. The moment he came home, he locked himself in his room. He won't eat, won't talk, and refuses to come out."
Hiruzen exhaled a long puff of smoke, his eyes narrowing. "I'll talk to him."
He had only just returned from the Hokage Office after handling village affairs, but as both the Hokage and Asuma's father, he had already heard
everything
about what had happened in class today.
Inside Asuma's room, muffled breathing and the rustling of blankets filled the space.
"Damn it... how could this happen?"
Asuma lay buried beneath his covers, his body trembling, eyes wide with fear.
Again and again, his mind replayed that moment in class—when Youyu's gaze fell upon him.
It was
terrifying
.
Like being
locked in place by a predator
, knowing there was no escape. He had felt it—
true death
closing in.
Even now, just
thinking
about it made him break into a cold sweat.
And worst of all?
Even
he
didn't understand what happened next. One second, he was sure he had been sliced in half—the next, he was on the floor, unharmed. Yet the feeling of his body
splitting apart
, the
pain
, the
horror
—it had all been
real
.
Asuma clenched his fists beneath the blanket, his knuckles white.
He had always believed in his strength, in his bloodline, in the
Sarutobi name
. But today?
He had never felt weaker.