Although Tokyo in late September had already entered autumn, the air still carried a few traces of summer heat that had yet to fade.
The wind swept up several half-tinted red leaves, which slipped in through the half-open glass window into the student council room.
“President, what exactly do you think people live their whole lives for?” Uchiha Ayato leaned against the windowsill, watching the falling leaves, and tossed this question across the room to the pink-haired girl sharing the space with him.
Thinking back to those years—how full of grand ambition he had been when he was reborn as a member of the Uchiha clan, believing himself to be a child of destiny, certain that he would beat down Naruto and Sasuke and accomplish some earth-shaking feat.
And the result?
On that night, his five-year-old self died with a grudge at the hands of Uchiha Itachi.
After closing his eyes and opening them again, he had arrived once more in this world, with everything starting over from scratch.
He had grown up in an official childcare facility, then entered this middle school with excellent grades, becoming the vice president of the student council, the ace captain of the soccer club, and “everyone’s Uchiha”—and he had worked alongside this Madam President for three years now…
Sigh, life really is unpredictable~ Having experienced death twice, Uchiha Ayato now had only one pursuit— to master power enough to protect everything, and then live a peaceful life.
“…Huh?” Chihaya Anon, who had been buried in a stack of documents, came to an abrupt halt in her writing when she heard the question.
She lifted her head, her exquisite, pretty face filled with bafflement, her eyes brimming with confusion.
“Ayarin, right now you really sound like one of those old grandpas who get all sentimental the moment autumn arrives.” Chihaya Anon stood up, hands on her hips, an irrepressible smugness dancing at the corners of her eyes and brows: “Don’t sit there moping over the changing seasons!
Everyone has a bright future ahead, especially this President…” “For high school, I’m going to study abroad in England, you know!
England!” “Once I get over there, I’ll immediately make a whole bunch of blonde-haired, blue-eyed foreign friends, sip afternoon tea by the Thames on weekends, and post it on Ins for sure to rack up thousands of likes!” As for the rather feminine nickname “Ayarin,” Uchiha Ayato had clearly long since grown used to it.
He merely strolled leisurely back to the sofa and sat down, a lazy smile rippling at the corner of his mouth: “England, huh…” “It’s a fine place.” Ayato spoke unhurriedly: “But, Anon, with that Japanese-style English of yours that pronounces ‘Apple’ as ‘A-pu-ru,’ can you really communicate fluently over there?” “I can already picture the scene where you try to buy fish and chips, but the owner thinks you’re chanting some vicious Far Eastern curse.” “Being able to write it and being able to speak it are two different things, you know?” Chihaya Anon’s smile froze on her face.
Uchiha Ayato kept adding fuel to the fire, saying the most punchable things in the gentlest tone: “By then, you might have to communicate entirely through flailing your arms and legs, and you won’t even be able to find the subway station.” “In just a few months, a certain President who wanted to show off will probably end up vomiting from eating fish and chips, friendless because of her communication barrier, able only to hide under the covers alone and cry—and in the end, like a pitiful deserter, pack up her things overnight and flee back to Tokyo.” “Uchiha Ayato!” Chihaya Anon’s cheeks flushed crimson in an instant.
Treading in her little leather shoes, she rushed to the front of the sofa and glared down at him, her faintly visible little fang grazing against the edge of her lip.
But soon, as though she’d thought of something, her eyes rolled around, and she actually revealed a smug little smile: “The way I see it, Ayarin, you’re just being a tsundere~” Anon bent down, and the distance between the two of them suddenly closed: “You talk so viciously, but deep down you just can’t bear to see me go, right?” “Just like those immature little boys who deliberately tease the girl they like to get her attention?” She deliberately lowered her voice, staring intently into that pair of deep black eyes: “Listen up, okay—if you like me, you can totally just say it openly and proudly~” “I, Chihaya Anon, am not an unreasonable person~” “…” Uchiha Ayato smiled without a word, only gazing at the glowing little text that had abruptly popped up before his eyes— [Daily Quest (3/3): Bully Haruno Sakura once.] [Status: Completed] [Reward: Chakra +500] Don’t feel too good about yourself, you stinky pinkie.
You’re nothing more than a tool to make me stronger.
After his rebirth, aside from the Sharingan’s three basic abilities—observation, copying, and hypnosis—being massively enhanced, Uchiha Ayato had also awakened a cheat— the [God of Shinobi] system.
Its main function was to assign him quests and hand out rewards.
The three daily quests that came without fail each day would only give a bit of chakra or run-of-the-mill ninjutsu and other such mosquito-leg pittances, but the occasionally triggered event quests offered rather generous rewards.
Incidentally, this thing could also serve as a combat-power detector.
Of course, anyone with eyes could tell this system had just a teensy hundred-million bit of a problem.
Uchiha Ayato had no idea how it had mistaken Chihaya Anon for Haruno Sakura—perhaps because they were both pinkettes, and both rather…
flat.
In any case, as long as it gave rewards, it was fine.
When a pile-of-crap program actually manages to run, you shouldn’t go checking which line of code has a problem.
“What are you laughing at?
I’m seriously waiting for your confession here!” Seeing him like this, Anon stamped her foot in anger: “Honestly, miss this village and there won’t be another inn like it, you know!” “Pfft—” Uchiha Ayato finally couldn’t hold it in and let out a soft laugh: “President, do you have some kind of romantic misunderstanding about the relationship between us?” He raised his hand and lightly tapped Chihaya Anon’s smooth forehead with a fingertip: “You want me to play a love game with you?” “I have no reason to like you, and no reason to be liked by you.” “If you really want so badly to hear me confess to you, to see me blush and beg you not to leave…” “I suggest you go to bed early tonight, and better yet, order a few copies of ‘A Guide to Lucid Dream Control’ online before you sleep.” “Go experience it in your dreams—everything’s there.
You can have the people who like you line up in a queue circling the earth, or become the cutest idol in the world, whatever you want~” “You——!!!” Chihaya Anon abruptly straightened up, her whole body trembling: “I hate you!
I hate you the most, Uchiha Ayato!” Her eyes had reddened somewhat, her little fang biting down hard on her lower lip.
The next second, Chihaya Anon retreated back to the desk, swept both hands wildly across it, and flung the thick stack of documents straight into Ayato’s arms, the papers scattering all over the floor with a rustling clatter.
“You can check the rest yourself!
I quit!” Tossing out these words, Chihaya Anon dashed out of the student council room without looking back.
The door was slammed shut hard behind her, letting out a deafening, muffled thud.
Ayato, holding the disordered documents, looked down at the A4 papers scattered across the floor and sighed.
Then, he unhurriedly crouched down and picked up the papers one by one, stacking them neatly.
“Seems like I went a bit too far…” “I’ll apologize to her tonight~” “But it can’t be helped—the things coming up next, she’d be scared out of her wits if she saw them.” Uchiha Ayato placed the documents back on the desk, turned his head, and once again cast his gaze out the window.
Deep within those pitch-black pupils, something was faintly turning.
“Scritch…
scritch…” A faint sound rose, like the legs of a hard-shelled insect scraping against glass.
A lump of flesh, fully half the size of a person, bearing a twisted face like a human infant’s and compound eyes, was pressed tightly against the outer pane of the window.
Its barb-covered, jointed limbs scraped at the glass surface one stroke at a time, dragging out a sticky, foul-smelling, translucent mucus that glistened in the sunlight.
“This world is good in every way—no living in constant peril, no licking blood off the knife’s edge, and there are even games to play…” “The only bad thing is that disgusting stuff like this keeps popping up.” Uchiha Ayato stood up and walked toward the window.
In his hand, which had been empty to begin with, was now gripped—at some unknown moment—a coldly gleaming ninja blade.