At the school gate, the crowd of students gradually dispersed after school.
"What a pain." Mamoru scratched his head, his face full of annoyance. "How did things end up like this?"
"Why don't you just be more direct and have a match with Sasuke?" Shikamaru suggested lazily, his hands pillowed behind his head, as if he didn't think it was a big deal at all.
"It's not that simple." Mamoru sighed, his brow furrowing slightly.
"You wouldn't understand even if I told you. I'm leaving first." He waved his hand and turned to leave.
"Troublesome guys." Shikamaru muttered softly, watching his back. "Both of those brothers."
Choji, munching on potato chips with a crunch, asked in confusion, "Mamoru seems very reluctant to spar with Sasuke?"
"That goes without saying." Shikamaru said, looking at the receding figure. "With only the two of them left in the Uchiha clan, Mamoru definitely doesn't want to hurt his own brother."
If Mamoru hadn't walked far and heard this conversation, he would probably have burst out laughing on the spot.
This was a huge misunderstanding. If it weren't for Sasuke's sensitive and competitive state of mind, he wouldn't mind providing a daily dose of 'brotherly love' in the form of actual combat.
Mamoru walked home along his usual route, but today felt a little different. He keenly sensed a lump, poorly disguised with brown rags, sticking to the wall and sneakily following behind him. The clumsy disguise was so crude that it was hard not to notice. The shoes peeking out from under the rags and the occasional head popping out were practically challenging the lower limits of tracking techniques.
Mamoru's footsteps paused, and his lips twitched, but he ultimately chose to ignore it and continued walking.
"Heh heh..." A deliberately lowered, comical chuckle came from the lump.
"I didn't expect that you would actually see through my perfect disguise."
Just as he finished speaking, Konohamaru threw off the rags he was using as cover, accelerated with a short run, and blocked Mamoru's path with open arms, announcing haughtily, "As expected of the legendary man of the Ninja Academy. Fine, I, the great Konohamaru, might consider becoming your lackey."
Mamoru stopped, feeling as if black lines were sliding down his forehead.
He couldn't help but sigh internally, 'How could this brat be so dramatic? Had he forgotten the lesson from last time so quickly?'
"No." He was concise, saying not a single extra word.
"Why?!" Konohamaru's eyes widened.
He hadn't expected such a blunt rejection, and his arrogant momentum instantly stalled.
"Because you don't look very bright." Mamoru commented bluntly.
"What did you say?!" Konohamaru jumped in anger.
But then, he crossed his arms and snorted with confidence. "Heh heh. Just you wait, I'll definitely make you acknowledge me."
"That's impossible." Mamoru said calmly, waving his hand, while adding internally, 'Unless you go back to the forge and get reincarnated with a sharper brain.'
"Don't be like that! Please, just give me a chance!" Konohamaru pressed his hands together, starting to pester him relentlessly.
"Shut up, you're annoying." Mamoru's face turned cold, and the last bit of patience in his eyes gradually vanished.
"I won't! I want to be your lackey! I'm going to be your lackey!"
Seeing that pleading was useless, Konohamaru immediately used his trump card—lying down on the spot and starting to roll around.
Mamoru remained unmoved, walking around him with a cold expression. But Konohamaru scrambled up with surprising speed and accurately collapsed in front of Mamoru again to continue rolling.
After a few rounds, the last trace of warmth in Mamoru's eyes went out, replaced by a somber shadow. He took a deep breath, as if finally giving up the struggle.
He helplessly rubbed his forehead, walked to a nearby utility pole, and beckoned to the still-rolling Konohamaru with a finger. "You, come here."
"Did you agree?" Konohamaru understood instantly, sprang to his feet, and rushed over to him, standing at attention with excitement.
"Boss!"
"Lend me your scarf for a moment." Mamoru reached out, his gaze landing on Konohamaru's neck, speaking in a flat tone.
Without asking why, Konohamaru immediately untied his orange scarf and offered it with both hands, looking sycophantic. "Here, Boss!"
Once he had the scarf, a meaningful smile appeared on Mamoru's face. Konohamaru was still grinning foolishly, looking at him with expectation.
The next second.
"Eh? Boss! What are you doing?! Let me go!"
Konohamaru had been tied tightly to the utility pole with the scarf, shouting as he struggled.
Mamoru walked away without looking back, leaving behind Konohamaru's unwilling shouts.
"Just you wait! I won't give up!"
Shortly after, a roar of shock and anger broke the peace of the village.
"Konohamaru-sama! Who! Who on earth did this!?"
Ebisu, wearing sunglasses, appeared beneath the utility pole. He looked at the scene before him, his body stiff, trembling with rage.
—
Naka Shrine was once a place of worship when the Uchiha clan was at its peak, as well as a gathering place for the clansmen to discuss important matters. But what met the eye now was only a scene of desolation and ruin, abandoned by time.
The once-vibrant vermilion pillars now had peeling paint, revealing the rotten wooden cores beneath, like skeletons stripped of their fine robes. The stone steps leading to the main hall were split by overgrown weeds and dark green moss, with nameless purple wildflowers peeking out from the cracks, swaying slightly in the wind.
All was silent around, save for the wind passing through the hollow beams and broken window frames, making a sound like low sobbing.
In the center of this dilapidated front courtyard, a boy in a blue short-sleeved shirt stood with his arms crossed, his face filled with impatience.
"I'm here."
A clear voice rang out from above without warning.
Sasuke looked up sharply toward the sound. He saw a figure that had appeared on top of the red torii gate at some point. The figure leaped lightly from the torii gate and, after landing, walked toward the boy in blue.
The newcomer's appearance was almost a carbon copy of Sasuke's. It was none other than Mamoru.
"You're actually late to the time and place you set yourself?" Sasuke frowned, his tone reproachful. "Can't you be a bit more reliable?"
"Sorry." Mamoru said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin.
"That new dessert shop on the street was having a sale, and the line was just too long, so... ahahaha..."
He shook the paper bag in his hand. "Of course, there's some for you too."
"Fine, let's just get started." Sasuke clearly had no interest in desserts, his sharp gaze fixed on his twin brother.
"Don't be in such a hurry." Mamoru strolled unhurriedly to the shrine's veranda and carefully placed the paper bag on the floor.
He turned back to the center of the clearing, cracked his knuckles one by one, and then lazily looked up at Sasuke. "Haste makes waste."