Ryo almost sped back to his shabby house without his feet touching the ground. The door slammed shut behind him with a bang, shaking dust from the ceiling.
He leaned back against the cold door, running a hand through his striking red hair, coarse and rough like dry grass.
"What the hell," he cursed under his breath. The scene at the Senju main house entrance replayed in his mind. Tsunade's scrutinizing gaze, Mito's all-knowing gentle smile, Nawaki's idiotic face as if he'd seen a ghost, and… Kushina's small gesture of tugging his clothes.
That feeling was worse than being stripped naked and thrown into a marketplace.
He roughly scrubbed his face, trying to suppress the inexplicable heat and an unidentifiable irritation.
Wasn't it just carrying an injured little girl home?
What's the big deal. The key was what?
He actually ran away.
This was completely not Kamiyama Ryo's style.
Normally, he wouldn't even flinch at cracking the heads of classmates who dared disturb his sleep—yet this time, he'd run off in a panic.
Humiliating. Too humiliating.
The more Ryo thought about it, the more choked up he felt, a nameless fire rising in his chest.
No, he had to vent.
Grrrrumble.
Coinciding with his thoughts, his stomach let out a resounding protest.
Hungry. A hunger more intense than after training instantly washed away all other thoughts.
He also had to prepare for that little bandit Kushina's raid tomorrow.
Ryo sighed.
This little girl, once she latched on, she wouldn't let go. Ever since a piece of pork hock started it last time, he felt like he'd boarded a pirate ship, automatically adding a few extra ounces of meat to his lunch every day.
"Trouble." He squeezed these two words through his teeth, but his hand dutifully grabbed the old cloth bag hanging in the corner and a katana with a slightly worn edge.
No matter how troublesome, he couldn't starve himself.
The night was inky black, carrying the unique chill of late autumn and the rusty smell of soil mixed with decaying leaves.
Ryo, like a phantom merged with the night, silently scaled the outer wall of Konoha.
The patrolling ninja squad remained completely unaware of his deliberately suppressed presence.
He could find his way to the depths of the Forest of Death with his eyes closed.
At night, the Forest of Death's danger level escalated exponentially.
But for Ryo, this was his hunting ground, his refrigerator, and his training ground.
The air was filled with a strong wild scent, and the glowing beast eyes in the darkness outnumbered the stars in the sky.
His luck was good tonight. He didn't have to try too hard to encounter a lone adult wild boar.
This fellow was fat and strong, with gleaming white tusks, very fierce, and an excellent source of energy.
Swish.
Ryo didn't use a sharpened wooden stick this time. With a flick of his wrist, the katana at his waist unsheathed with a faint hum.
In the dim light, the blade reflected the cold moonlight, as intimidating as the sharp glint in his eyes.
The wild boar roared and charged.
Ryo stood firm, his feet unmoving. The instant the tusks were almost about to pierce his lower abdomen, his body slid sideways at an incredibly strange yet fluid angle, as if practiced a thousand times.
At the same time, the katana transformed into a white line, difficult to discern with the naked eye, slashing upward diagonally.
Shing!
A soft sound, like a sharp knife cutting through thick leather.
A line of blood shot out into the air, carrying a scorching heat.
The massive wild boar didn't even have time to let out a dying squeal before it slammed heavily to the ground, maintaining its charging posture. Its limbs twitched a few times, then it stopped moving.
The entire hunt was swift, precise, and deadly.
Ryo flicked off a few drops of hot blood from the tip of his blade and emotionlessly sheathed his sword.
Only the smell of blood rapidly permeated the air.
Just as he habitually dragged his prey, preparing to process it on the spot, an extremely subtle yet unusual sensation, like an ice needle piercing bone, suddenly shot up his spine to the back of his head.
Not a beast. It was a human, carrying a hidden killing intent.
In a flash of lightning, Ryo didn't even have time to fully turn around.
Swish.
A blade of water, carrying a fierce wind pressure, tore through the air without warning, precisely slicing toward the joint of his right arm, which was dragging the prey.
The speed was incredible, the angle so tricky, definitely a master.
Buzz.
Ryo's body, driven by instinct, erupted with its maximum potential. The hand holding the sword moved almost at the same instant he perceived the danger.
It wasn't a block, nor was it an evade. Instead, his body's center of gravity inexplicably sank, his arm muscles instantly tensed like steel cables, and he spun back fiercely, using the heavy wild boar corpse as leverage.
Puff.
A large chunk of the wild boar's hind leg was grazed and cut off by the water blade, splattering foul blood and taking what should have been a fatal blow for him.
"Damn it."
Ryo cursed angrily, his internal alarm bells ringing wildly.
This was an ambush.
Where did this master come from?
Could it be Danzo's old cunning Root ninja? Or an enemy spy?
He had no time to think. He pushed with his left hand, kicking away the obstructive wild boar carcass. His right hand unsheathed the katana with a clang, and he twisted like a predatory leopard, the cold blade tip pointing directly at the attacker's blurry figure.
The moonlight fell sparingly, revealing the attacker dressed in standard Konoha Anbu attire, wearing a featureless animal mask. Only a pair of eyes, hidden in the shadows, were sharp as an owl's, coldly locked onto him.
No words, no explanation.
The Anbu flickered, charging forward again, even faster than before.
This time it wasn't an ambush, but a full-on frontal assault.
He quickly formed hand seals, moving so fast that he left afterimages.
"Suiton: Mizurappa (Water Release: Wild Water Wave)."
Splash.
A massive torrent of water seemed to be summoned from thin air, forming several high-speed swirling currents that fiercely crashed into Ryo.
Ryo's pupils constricted. Instead of retreating, he advanced. The 30 percent combat experience inherited from Shanks erupted with brilliant light at this moment.
He pushed off with his feet, creating a shallow pit in the ground, and charged head-on into the roaring water currents.
A flash of sword light. So fast that only a flowing silver streak remained.
Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.
The katana became an afterimage in Ryo's hands. Every slash, every block, precisely struck the core or weakest point of the water currents.
The immense impact made his arm muscles bulge. Every collision caused his blood to churn, but his steps remained exceptionally steady. He forcefully shattered the Mizurappa, which could have sent an ordinary chūnin flying, inch by inch.
Amidst the splashing water, Ryo's eyes grew brighter and brighter. A long-lost, exhilarating battle spirit burned in his chest.
This pressure—this oppressive feeling—was exactly what he needed to break through his limit.
"Again." Ryo let out a suppressed growl from his throat, his battle intent boiling.
He cast aside his initial surprise. Whoever you are, if you're going to throw yourself in my way, don't blame me for cutting you down to hone my edge
(To be continued.)
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