Ding!
［Emotional Damage Points from Asuma Sarutobi, +55!］
Ding!
［Recognition Points from Might Guy, +300!］
Yoru glanced at the “Recognition Points” notification, lost in thought.
Since it was being tallied right alongside the Emotional Damage Points, it appeared to be a new mechanic.
He filed that away.
Into this bizarre, sentimental atmosphere, a thunderous, earth-shaking growl erupted without warning from Might Guy’s stomach.
Gurgle!
The sound was so loud it ricocheted between the four walls of the narrow alley, lingering long after.
Guy’s face flushed red.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and flashed a simple, honest grin.
“Sorry! Because of my extra after-school training, I haven’t eaten since noon! My body is crying out for youth!”
At those words, Yoru’s eyes lit up.
The very same gleam as when he’d locked onto Obito’s ninja tool pouch in the classroom.
His right hand slid into his pocket with perfect naturalness.
With a thought, a pale-pink, faintly glowing sphere materialized silently from his system inventory into his palm.
The strawberry-flavored Soldier Pill.
Ten seconds after ingestion, the sphincter goes on total strike.
Yoru held the pill out toward Guy on his open palm.
“My dear friend.”
His voice was low and sincere.
“This is a secret Soldier Pill made by our Uchiha clan. Extremely nutritious. Try it.”
That “dear friend” struck the softest spot in Might Guy’s heart.
His eyes welled up all over again.
He received the pink Soldier Pill with trembling hands, cradling it in his palm like the most precious treasure in the world.
“Yoru…” Guy choked up.
Then he tipped his head back and popped the pill into his mouth without a moment’s hesitation.
Two chews.
Guy’s eyes went brilliantly wide, pupils dilating.
He sprang up as if electrified.
“It’s actually strawberry-flavored! Delicious! Yoru, do you have any m—”
His voice cut off mid-word.
Guy’s expression froze somewhere between “excitement” and “ecstasy.”
A rumble like a landslide erupted from his gut.
Gurgle gurgle gurgle gurgle!!!
The smile froze solid on Guy’s face.
His body went violently rigid, and his legs clamped together in a highly unnatural posture.
Beads of sweat rolled off his forehead like pearls off a snapped string — more than he’d produced running across half of Konoha.
His complexion went from rosy to pale, then from pale to a bruised purple.
The entire process took less than three seconds.
“Yoru… I…”
Guy’s voice cracked into a thin, trembling register, strained with extreme restraint, all its former boldness gone. This story is hosted at g.com.
Another earth-shaking growl cut him off.
His legs began to shake uncontrollably.
He clutched his lower abdomen with both hands, torso pitching forward.
His center of gravity sank, curling him up like a boiled shrimp.
Yoru took two steps back, crossed his arms, and looked on with deep concern.
“What’s wrong, dear friend? You don’t look so good.”
Standing off to the side, Asuma watched Guy’s about-to-detonate expression and suddenly felt that his own day hadn’t been so bad after all.
Ding!
［Emotional Damage Points from Might Guy, +999!!!］
In the shadow of the sunset, Yoru’s lips curled up, slowly.
Guy’s brain had shut down completely, leaving only one desperate thought:
Restroom.
Where is the nearest restroom?!
Gurgle!!!
In the narrow dead-end alley, Guy’s stomach loosed yet another thunderclap.
It echoed between the four walls, on and on.
This time Guy didn’t even have the strength to speak.
Legs clamped, hands gripping his abdomen, eyes practically bulging from their sockets.
Lips pressed white, a sound of ultimate humiliation forced its way out of his throat.
“I… I…”
His voice had transformed completely; the bold, passionate, ringing tones of before had degenerated into a mosquito’s whine.
His face cycled between green and purple, sweat drops big as peas raining off his forehead.
The next second, Guy clutched his stomach, doubled over, and bolted for the alley mouth.
Legs pressed tightly together, his gait was beyond bizarre.
“Restroom! WHERE IS THE RESTROOM!”
His voice was hoarse and cracking, yet his speed was such that he trailed a green afterimage through the air.
In that profoundly contorted posture, he shot out of the alley and vanished around the corner.
Yoru stood in place, arms crossed, watching Guy’s receding figure, and sighed.
He ran a quick mental calculation.
From here to the nearest public restroom in Konoha, a normal person would need about forty seconds at a run.
But at Guy’s current crab-walking, thigh-clamping pace…
Yoru shook his head, unwilling to think about it further.
Something else, though, had him far more curious.
Ten, nine, eight…
He counted down silently.
What he really wanted to know was whether, within these ten seconds, Guy could successfully get the accursed collar-zipper of his one-piece spandex suit undone.
And if he couldn’t…
The scene would simply be too beautiful.
Yoru’s eyes crinkled.
Cutting that train of thought short, he turned to look at Asuma, still slumped at the base of the wall.
Hair like a bird’s nest, face crosshatched with tear tracks, school uniform caked in dirt and gravel.
He gripped the rough brick wall with both hands, legs trembling.
And most striking of all — his feet were bare.
The tender soles had been ground raw against the stone road, raising several fat blood blisters, their edges rimmed with mud.
His shoes had flown off in the first half of the chase; by now some stray dog had probably carried them off as chew toys.
Asuma tried to move his right foot.
A piercing pain drilled straight up to the crown of his skull.
He sucked in a sharp breath, swayed, and nearly collapsed all over again.
He couldn’t take a single step.
The honorable young master of the Hokage looked as pitiful as a street beggar.
Gritting his teeth, grimacing, Asuma pushed himself up along the wall and set his bare feet on the rough ground.
All he wanted now was to hurry home, shower, change his pants, and seal today’s memories into the deepest vault of his mind forever.
Just as he braced himself to hobble off barefoot, slow, unhurried footsteps sounded.
Yoru walked over and stopped in front of him.
Asuma’s whole body tensed; he instinctively started to shrink back.
But he quickly registered that there was no killing intent on Yoru’s face.
Only calm.
Yoru’s right hand was in his pocket, his mind communing swiftly with the system space.
With a flicker of light, a pair of brand-new black ninja sandals appeared in his palm.
Supreme trash from the system’s ten-pull: Ninja Sandals That Automatically Slip Off When Worn.
Yoru held the sandals out.
His expression was profoundly sincere, his tone gentle as a spring breeze, even carrying a note of consolation.
“Asuma. I see you’ve lost your shoes. Konoha’s stone roads are too hard — wear these for now. Don’t ruin your feet.”
Asuma froze.
He looked at the brand-new black sandals in Yoru’s hand, then up at that harmless face empty of any killing intent.
His brain went into a brief system freeze.
And then, with a resounding click, a perfectly logical closed loop assembled itself in Asuma’s mind.
Why had Yoru been so furious today?
Why had he chased him across half of Konoha with a brick?
Because he had wronged Yoru publicly on the playground!
A genius like Yoru would never stoop to underhanded tricks to ambush Kakashi.
His style was wild and forthright — loving and hating in the open, keeping crystal-clear accounts of kindness and grudges.
Yoru had said at the time it was a stray shot, and he had insisted on branding it deliberate.
A personality that bold — how could it possibly lie?
How could it possibly do something as sleazy as swapping out a kunai?
He had simply been defending the dignity of the Uchiha clan — through physical means!
And after beating a guy up, he even gives him shoes.
What magnanimity!
The more Asuma thought about it, the more he felt like a complete jerk.
The guy had chased him across half the village and in the end not only hadn’t actually hurt him — he was giving him shoes.
His nose stung and his eyes reddened on the spot.
“Yoru… thank you.”