The four seasons in Konoha were distinctly marked, and as summer faded, the crisp autumn wind arrived, rustling the trees and sending fallen leaves drifting through the air.
With the change of seasons came the time to change clothes.
Over the past few months, Maki had grown—barely. Just a centimeter. Now standing at 111 cm, she was still shorter than most children her age. Given that the average growth rate was six to seven centimeters per year, her number was... disappointing.
Technically, it counted as a developmental delay.
Still, wanting new clothes had nothing to do with height.
Naori had gotten some too—though hers, as always, were dyed all black.
Maki, on the other hand, continued wearing white. It was easier to clean that way. You could spot the dirt at a glance and let the bugs take care of it. Her style hadn't changed either: a thigh-length robe with wide sleeves, topped off with a hood—an Uzumaki tradition passed down from her mother.
Naori's outfit was different. Her aunt Yumi had made her clothes in the style Naori liked best.
"Isn't it cold?" Maki asked, glancing down at Naori's feet. "Sandals?"
Maki herself wore two-tooth clogs with red straps and footbags underneath—for rainy days or muddy roads.
Naori, on the other hand, had bare feet in standard-issue ninja sandals.
Shrinking back a little, Naori said shyly, "Everyone wears them."
"If it's about chakra transmission, biosteel socks work better than bare feet," Maki pointed out. "I gave you several pairs."
More than enough for daily use. Durable, washable, and comfortable.
"They're ugly," Naori muttered.
"Those sandals are uglier," Maki replied.
"But clogs are annoying to wear," Naori said. "They're inconvenient for fighting."
"You can stick them to your feet with chakra," Maki shrugged. "Same as walking up trees."
"Ninja sandals are snug. They don't fall off," Naori mumbled.
Maki looked thoughtful.
There were normal shoes in the ninja world too. The short-heeled sandals Tsunade wore were beautiful. Civilians could wear whatever they wanted.
But it was cold. Chakra didn't keep your feet warm. And the reason all ninjas wore open-toed sandals wasn't just about chakra flow.
The truth was…
"Your feet stink," Maki said flatly.
"No, they don't! That's a lie!" Naori snapped, going red.
But Maki wasn't wrong.
Ninjas spent most of their lives fighting or heading to their next battle. Constant movement meant constant sweating. It was fine when body heat went up—but once you started sweating inside shoes, things got ugly.
In the academy, Maki had seen plenty of girls show up in pretty shoes, only to go back to sandals the very next day.
On missions, it was worse. Ten days out in the wild with minimal supplies meant no spare socks, no spare shoes. Wrap your feet up for too long, and bacteria would thrive. Cross rivers and scale cliffs like that, and your skin would start to rot.
Trench foot.
Ninja sandals were a design born from generations of blood and tears—since the Warring States Era.
And besides, everyone took off their shoes when entering a house. If you didn't want to stink up the Hokage's office while reporting a mission, you had to deal with the cold.
That was the ninja way.
As they walked to school, Maki added casually, "Biosteel is different. It's like a second skin—excellent breathability, great at wicking sweat."
Naori's cheeks flushed pink.
How could such a private girl thing be brought up so openly?
"Don't believe me?" Maki said, grinning. "Come smell my feet."
She lifted one dainty foot toward her.
"I am not smelling your feet! Shut up! I get it, I'll wear them!" Naori yelled, her face burning.
Her attempt at outrage came out more like a flustered squeak.
Maki just waved her hand and walked ahead, smirking.
Behind her, Naori stamped her foot in frustration.
The new semester wasn't anything special. The week wrapped up the same as always—just with a few new additions.
This time, the school began teaching basic sealing techniques.
How basic?
So basic that Mito never even bothered teaching them.
The technique in question was a simple lamp seal—just a rudimentary array used to light up a lamp. The goal was to learn how to use it, not understand how it worked. Things like the underlying theory, incantation principles, or structural logic weren't explained. As long as you could activate it, that was enough.
After a few days, it became obvious that no one in class could manage it—not even Maki or the other top students.
Releasing a seal properly required extremely precise chakra control. You had to trace the formula flawlessly, form the entire seal in one breath, and activate it all at once. Compared to this, even the Rasengan was easier.
Freeform chakra control was one thing. Structured techniques with fixed sequences—seven turns, eight pivots—were on a completely different level.
Even copying a ready-made seal was no guarantee; your hands might just betray you.
So, despite the long summer break and her dedicated efforts, Maki still couldn't activate the sealing technique.
When the weekend came, she went to continue her lessons with Mito, as they had agreed beforehand.
Mito was already waiting, smiling brightly.
"Oh my, is that the legendary outfit?"
"The super expensive one?"
"I heard it's silky soft, gentle on the skin..."
"It even improves your complexion!"
"When you wear something like that, you shine like a goddess~"
"Instantly the most beautiful woman in the village~"
"Aaahh~ I'm so jealous~"
"But…"
"Too bad I can't afford it~"
"How tragic~"
"Boohoohoo~"
Mito covered her face and started dramatically sobbing.
"Alas, I'm just a poor, overworked woman managing a giant clan. Day by day I grow older. My youth slips away. I toil to raise three hopeless disciples—!"
"All this stress is aging me faster~!"
Without a word, Maki pulled a ball of shimmering thread from her backpack.
Mito froze mid-sob, eyes wide.
"No way..."
Maki nodded. "Biosteel."
"Biosteel, my foot! This is gold—shinier than gold!"
Mito lunged forward, aiming a dramatic slap straight at Maki's masked face.
Maki reacted instantly, dodging and snarling, "Stop! I've already released the bugs!"
Mito backed off with a huff but pouted regretfully.
"Ugh. So ungrateful. But fine, I suppose you still have a conscience. My love for you wasn't entirely wasted."
She gleefully picked up the ball of thread, admiring it from every angle.
"It's so beautiful~"
Ah, the glow of gold.
There was more than enough here—enough for two full adult outfits, or several children's sets.
Such generosity. Maki really did have a kind heart… even if she'd never admit it.
Off to the side, Hitomi stared curiously at the thread, unsure what it was or why Grandma Mito seemed so obsessed with it.
But then again, no girl—especially not a refined, elegant one—could resist beautiful, high-end clothing.
Maki held out a few balls of the biosteel thread to Hitomi.
"Here. Take these. Make yourself two sets."
"Eh?!" Hitomi's eyes went wide. "Me too?!"
"You don't want them?" Maki asked flatly, beginning to retract her hand. "I'll just take them ba—"
"Since when can you take back a gift?" Mito interjected, grabbing Maki's wrist and stuffing the thread into Hitomi's arms.
"Silly girl. Take it. Go home and ask your father to have something nice made for you."
Hitomi quietly nodded, pressing the thread to her chest. From time to time, she peeked up at Maki, expression unreadable.
Eventually, she whispered, "Did Naori get any?"
"Of course," Naori replied, lifting the hem of her shirt to show the hidden shimmer beneath.
Hitomi hesitated, then asked cautiously, "Aren't you... mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" Naori replied with a warm smile.
Terrifying.
Hitomi shrank back slightly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"...Okay. Just making sure you're not mad."
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