The moment the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, the Chunin instructor let out a long sigh.
He had never felt this exhausted in his entire life.
The mere thought of enduring three more years of days like this made him want to hand in his resignation on the spot.
“That’s it for today’s theory class. Kurenai Yuhi, Uchiha Tekka, Izumo Kamizuki — you three stay behind and clean up!”
Before the three could protest, the instructor packed up his lesson plans with a smoothness that defied the limits of a Chunin and strode out of the classroom in two steps.
His retreating figure looked utterly disheveled — a man desperate to escape.
His voice was still echoing in the classroom, but he had already vanished at the end of the hallway.
Obito shoved his textbooks into his backpack and zipped it up, instinctively edging closer to Yoru.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say “Let’s go together,” but the words stuck in his throat.
Yoru sat in his chair, head tilted slightly, chin resting on one hand, wearing a faint, unreadable smile.
“Are you sure you want to walk home with me?”
Obito gasped, his brain practically freezing up.
With a boom in his head, the day’s surreal events flashed by in a rapid montage: Rin, pinned aggressively against the wall, scared into curling up like a quail.
The white chalk mark on his own forehead that wouldn’t scrub off.
That absurd kunai on the playground — the one that had crossed the entire field as if it were GPS-guided, burying itself precisely in Kakashi’s calf.
And that soul-piercing sigh from earlier, still ringing in everyone’s ears.
Instant social death.
Obito shivered violently, the hair on his back standing on end.
He wasn’t looking at his childhood friend anymore.
He was looking at the King of Hell wearing human skin!
“No — no!”
Obito waved his hands frantically, sweating buckets.
“I just remembered! I promised an old lady at the Third Street intersection that I’d help her cross the road ten times today!”
“I won’t bother you! Gotta go! Farewell!”
Before he’d even finished speaking, Obito swung his backpack over his shoulder and scrambled out of the classroom.
［Emotional Damage Points from Obito, +33!］
Yoru’s lip curled.
That wasn’t even a fraction of what he needed.
He stood up unhurriedly, brushed the dust off his trousers, and let his gaze drift past the empty seats toward the front row.
Asuma was busy with a broom, eagerly hovering around Kurenai and snatching the cleaning duties out of her hands.
“Kurenai, how could I let you do such dirty, tiring work! You just wipe the desks — leave all the dust in the window corners to me!”
Asuma was all smiles, thumping his chest, putting the full responsibility of a young master on display.
He was the picture of a pure-hearted, lovestruck simp desperate to impress.
Kurenai smiled politely. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“Thank you, Asuma.”
That smile sent Asuma straight to cloud nine.
“Actually, Kurenai, did you know? Just yesterday, the Hokage — ahem, my dad — praised my talent for chakra control!”
“My kunai throws are usually dead accurate. Today there was just that weird gust of wind on the playground that threw off my aim.”
Asuma gestured away, shamelessly making excuses to save face.
“When you have time, let’s go to the training ground. I’ll give you a private demonstration of the true techniques of the Sarutobi clan!”
Watching Asuma’s beaming, eager-to-please face, Yoru’s mouth curled up uncontrollably.
The kid had clearly forgotten all about the “fight at the Seventh Training Ground” from before class.
A lovestruck brain really is a dangerous thing.
Yoru didn’t interrupt the sweet moment.
He just shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled out of the classroom.
The hallway was full of new students getting ready to head home.
The crowd, chattering away one second, fell collectively silent the moment Yoru stepped out of the classroom.
Dozens of students recoiled in unison as if a plague god had been unleashed, backs pressed flat against the walls.
Down the middle of the narrow hallway, they cleared a two-meter-wide path for him.
A few of the more timid girls turned and ran back upstairs.
Yoru didn’t so much as blink.
He walked down the stairs, out of the school building, and headed straight for the main gate of the Ninja Academy.
He scanned his surroundings idly, his gaze finally settling on the edge of a flower bed ahead and to his left.
A square, sharp-edged red brick lay quietly in the dirt.
Yoru’s eyes lit up.
He walked over, bent down, picked up the perfect brick, and weighed it in his hand.
The heft was just right, the rough texture a perfect fit for his palm.
Excellent grip.
Five stars.
A truly handy tool for delivering a little “physical enlightenment.”
He planted himself dead center in the school gate, holding the brick out in the open, shameless, his stance domineering.
Legs slightly apart, he tossed the brick up and down with his right hand, patiently waiting for Asuma to appear.
Students passing by saw the scene and were instantly transported back to the playground.
Their heads filled with the miserable image of Kakashi on both knees, covered in blood.
School’s out, and someone is blocking the gate with a brick?!
The already timid crowd fell back in a hurry once more.
At the crowded school gate, with Yoru at the center, a ten-meter radius of absolute vacuum — where no one dared set foot — cleared itself within three seconds.
Even a stray yellow dog passing the gate tucked its tail and silently crossed to the other side of the road. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
A quarter of an hour later.
Footsteps and laughter drifted over from the school building.
The cleaning was done.
Asuma, the very model of hard work, carried the broom in front while Kurenai followed behind with her bag.
Asuma was in a great mood, convinced he’d seriously boosted his standing with Kurenai, and he hadn’t stopped talking.
The two strolled toward the school gate, chatting and laughing.
Kurenai was nodding along politely when her gaze happened to drift past Asuma’s shoulder toward the gate ahead.
The next second, her footsteps froze.
Her face went deathly pale, and she clamped both hands over her mouth.
Watching Yoru toss the brick, she was too terrified to make a sound.
Is this some new secret Uchiha training method?
Asuma, completely oblivious, kept his elated expression as he casually lifted his head, his gaze sweeping toward the gate.
Directly ahead, the rise and fall of the red brick stopped.
Yoru’s five fingers slowly curled, gripping the corner of the brick tightly, his whole figure silhouetted against the blinding sunset.
Their gazes collided.
Yoru tilted his head slightly, looking at Asuma ten meters away, his mouth slowly stretching into a smirk twisted to the absolute limit.
The smile on Asuma’s face froze…
His Adam’s apple bobbed violently as he swallowed a large, dry gulp.
Yoru didn’t speak.
He raised his right hand and flaunted the rough red brick with supreme arrogance.
Then, staring into Asuma’s eyes, his lips slowly parted, silently mouthing five syllables.
“Sev-enth. Train-ing. Ground.”
As the lip-reading ended, Yoru took half a step forward.
Just half a step — but it nearly scared Asuma out of his mind.
His dignity as the Hokage’s son, his image in front of Kurenai — none of it mattered anymore!
That was a bloody red brick!
A brick like that to the face would kill him!
You can always pick up girls later, but you only have one life!
“AHHHHHHHH!!!”
Asuma let out a shrill scream that didn’t sound remotely human.
It was so loud it startled several crows off the roof of the school building.
He spun on his heel, not sparing Kurenai a single glance, hands clawing frantically at the air in front of him.
And then he was off — running faster than he ever had in his life, sprinting madly toward the far end of the street!