“Instructor!
I object!
He’s cheating!” Ren pointed accusingly at Akimichi Takashi, who had genuinely pulled out a pair of earplugs and stuffed them into his ears.
Instructor Yamano remained unmoved.
“There are rare ninjutsu that attack through sound.
Blocking your ears is a perfectly valid countermeasure.
Ren, this does not count as cheating.” Ren was speechless.
Preventing Takashi from hearing his trash talk was an absolutely devastating nerf.
They had practically removed half his combat ability before the match even started.
He stared at Takashi’s smug face and suddenly remembered one of Jiraiya’s techniques.
Jiraiya could alter his hair with chakra, hardening and extending it to perform techniques such as Needle Jizō and Wild Lion’s Mane Jutsu.
That kind of bodily transformation seemed strangely similar to the Akimichi clan’s Expansion Jutsu.
‘Could Jiraiya have a thing for bigger women?’ Perhaps things had gone badly with Tsunade, so he had noticed that Akimichi women were also curvy and started spying on them instead.
‘Lord Jiraiya, you absolute—’ Ren paused as another possibility occurred to him.
What if Jiraiya’s obsession with peeping was only a cover for stealing clan techniques?
There was no way someone could be that shameless and still become one of the strongest shinobi alive.
Between his reputation as a pervert and his talent for developing ninjutsu, one of them had to be an act.
‘That sneaky bastard!’ Ren already possessed the Nara clan’s shadow techniques, and now an Akimichi had delivered himself right to his doorstep.
He might as well try collecting the Expansion Jutsu too.
“Form the Seal of Confrontation!” After Yamano gave the order, Ren remained still.
Takashi did the same.
Those earplugs were disturbingly effective.
He had not heard a single word.
Ren suddenly rushed forward.
Takashi tensed and raised both arms in front of his chest, ready to defend.
He saw Ren form a hand seal, followed by a burst of white smoke.
Two identical Rens emerged from the cloud.
Takashi’s head snapped from side to side.
He could not tell which was the original and which was the shadow clone.
Watching from the sidelines, Ebisu rolled his eyes.
‘Why is he trying so hard to tell them apart?
It’s not like he can beat Ren’s shadow clone either.’ Then Ebisu froze.
‘Wait…
why did that sound exactly like something Ren would say?’ Had spending all those months sparring with Ren corrupted him?
Was cruelty contagious?
This was bad.
Still, a small part of him missed those days when he had challenged Ren constantly.
Takashi turned his head to the left.
A sudden warmth brushed against his right ear.
‘The original is on the right!
He’s so fast!’ Someone yanked out one of his earplugs and leaned close enough to whisper directly into his ear.
“Takashi, just because you love pork belly doesn’t mean you should start stealing food from the pigs.
Look at the size of you.” In the original story, Chōji Akimichi’s trigger word had been ‘fat.’ Anyone who called him that sent him into an immediate rage.
Ren had decided to test whether the same trick worked on Takashi.
Unfortunately, Takashi was not Chōji.
The word did absolutely nothing to him.
“I am fat,” Takashi replied proudly.
“What’s wrong with that?
Being big is one of my best qualities!” Ren blinked.
Takashi really was exactly what he looked like—round, cheerful, and completely unbothered.
Ordinary insults slid right off him.
Takashi swung his arm and drove an elbow into Ren.
Poof!
The figure vanished in a cloud of smoke.
It had been the shadow clone.
The real Ren appeared from the opposite side and kicked Takashi off his feet.
Takashi rolled across the ground, clutching the ear where Ren had removed the plug, then pushed himself upright.
Saku had filled his head with useless advice.
Even now, Takashi was covering one ear instead of focusing on the fight, all because he was afraid of hearing Ren’s insults.
“Match over!
Form the Seal of Reconciliation!” Ren stared at Takashi as they completed the seal, wondering how he could possibly break someone so easygoing.
The Akimichi clan’s Expansion Jutsu was far too valuable to ignore.
Of all the ninjutsu, secret arts, and forbidden techniques in the shinobi world, it might be the single most useful technique a man could possess.
No man could know the Expansion Jutsu and still suffer from insecurity.
For the sake of his future happiness—both above and below the waist—Ren was determined to obtain it.
…
For the next week, Takashi was the first person to raise his hand and challenge Ren during every sparring lesson.
By the end of the week, Takashi had started entering their matches with a smile.
Ren found that deeply unsettling.
‘Does this kid enjoy getting beaten?’ Takashi remained constantly alert for Ren disguising himself as Saku, so Ren waited until the two of them separated.
Then he transformed into Yamanaka Ichigo and approached Takashi instead.
“Takashi, why have you been so happy lately?” Takashi grinned.
“I’ve been looking in the mirror, and I think I’m getting even fatter!” Ren paused and studied his round face carefully.
“Takashi…
is it possible you haven’t gained weight at all?” He lowered his voice.
“Maybe your face is just swollen.” Takashi’s cheeks twitched.
Now that Ren mentioned it, why did his face hurt?
He reached into Ichigo’s desk and took out a small mirror.
The reflection showed bruises in red, purple, and blue spread across his face.
It really was swollen.
“That bastard!” Takashi cried.
“I thought I’d gained weight, but Beanpole Ren just beat my face puffy!” He put the mirror down with a sigh.
“There’s nothing I can do.
Saku insists that I keep challenging him.
At least I haven’t lost weight.
As long as I’m not getting thinner, I can live with it.” Ren finally understood.
Making Takashi lose weight would probably be enough to break him.
…
During the next sparring lesson, Takashi challenged him again.
This time, Ren had no intention of ending the match quickly.
After using a shadow clone to remove Takashi’s earplugs, he called out, “Takashi, beating you is easier than drinking water.” Takashi glared at him.
“But since you insist on challenging me, let’s make this interesting.
I bet you can’t touch me even once.” Ren held up a finger.
“If you land a single hit, I’ll give you three months of my allowance—fifteen thousand ryō.
You can spend every coin on pork belly.” The mention of a fortune in food instantly lit a fire under Takashi.
Ren began leading him in circles around the training ground.
To everyone watching, it looked as though Ren was using Takashi to practice his footwork.
The routine continued for a week.
By the end of it, Takashi looked miserable.
Every sparring lesson had become another extended chase, with Ren leading him around the field until he could barely stand.
“Takashi, at your current level, you can’t even touch the edge of my sleeve.” Ren circled him with effortless steps.
“You can keep challenging me if you want, but could you at least improve first?
“You’re chasing me around like I’m taking a dog for a walk.
Anyone watching might think I’m deliberately torturing you.” Takashi bent over and planted both hands on his knees.
“If all you do is eat without training, you might as well donate your meals to the Inuzuka clan’s ninken.” Ren shook his head.
“You’re allowed to eat.
You’re allowed to use the bathroom.
But if all you contribute to the world is eating and crapping, then we have a problem.” Takashi raised his head and stared at him while gasping for breath.
Large drops of sweat ran down his face.
Ren had stolen his earplugs long ago, so every insult reached him perfectly clearly.
When Takashi lowered his head, the sweat on his cheeks gathered into several streams and splashed onto the dirt.
Ren smiled with satisfaction when he saw guilt creeping into the boy’s expression.
‘That’s right.
Train hard.’ ‘The more you train, the more weight you’ll lose.’ Takashi still needed more time before he truly broke, so Ren decided to search for a quicker target elsewhere.
…
After school, he walked over to Ebisu.
“Ebisu, meet me at the training ground.
Takashi has been challenging me so often that he’s reminded me how useful you used to be.” Ebisu’s expression darkened.
“I’m going to teach you a jutsu.” Ebisu stared at him.
“What?
You’re going to teach me a jutsu?” The sun might as well have risen in the west, then the north, then the south—anywhere except where it belonged.
This was far too suspicious.
“Trust me,” Ren said earnestly.
“This technique is your destiny.
Once you learn it, you’ll finally become the person you were always meant to be.”