💎 WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎
🔥 30→2ch | 60→5ch | 100→8ch | 200→15ch | 400→25ch
⏰ Resets Monday!
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A tense atmosphere began to saturate the village.
Itsuki noticed it on his walk home from school. People on the streets wore grim expressions. Shinobi leaping across rooftops had frowns etched on their faces. Many stalls in the market were running low on supplies. The effects of the escalating war were silently seeping into the lives of the villagers.
Itsuki picked through the vegetables at a stall with a serious expression.
"What's this?"
He pointed at a yellowish vegetable and looked at the aunty running the stall. She'd been brooding over the shortages and only snapped back to attention at his voice.
"That's cabbage."
The little boy before her wasn't even as tall as the stall counter, standing on tiptoe to see. His cute face was scrunched in confusion. The aunty's expression softened a touch.
"Then I'll take one cabbage and a box of tofu."
Itsuki, who couldn't even tell one vegetable from another, now had no choice but to learn how to cook. Thank god there was a recipe book at home. He made a mental note to buy some shrimp.
The aunty deftly packed his purchases. Money and goods exchanged, Itsuki left, a cloth bag heavy with his haul.
"Let's begin!"
It was like a solemn ritual. He arranged all his ingredients neatly on the kitchen counter. Opening the recipe book, Itsuki prepared for his first dish.
Tempura!
Hot oil splattered viciously in the iron wok. With his Limitless technique active, Itsuki managed—just barely.
Three hours later.
The kitchen looked like it had been hit by a Pein assault a decade early. Utter carnage.
Itsuki, emerging spotless thanks to Limitless, held a single small lunchbox.
"That… was terrifying," he said, heart still pounding.
The system chimed in. "Culinary skill is an essential part of the Alluring Conquest system. The Host must practice diligently from now on."
Itsuki stared at the kitchen still emitting tendrils of black smoke. "Are you sure about that?"
As if he wanted to be a kitchen disaster! Some people were just born to be kitchen assassins!
"Practice makes perfect."
The system believed that with its supervision, it could scrub away the stain of 'Kitchen Killer' from Itsuki's name. Today's attempt, while time-consuming, had yielded decent results, hadn't it? The tempura in the box looked crisp and golden, the sushi smelled sweet, and the cabbage tofu soup seemed downright appetizing.
Itsuki carefully placed the box into his pocket and set off. The first meal he'd ever cooked in his life was dedicated to Kakashi Hatake. If it weren't for the Strategy System and the need for those sweet, sweet favorability points, who would debase themselves like this?
He wiped away an imaginary tear and headed for Kakashi's place. How did he know the address? Ask Sato Yagi. Coincidentally, Yagi had once taught Kakashi too.
Ding-dong!
Itsuki strained on his tiptoes to ring the bell.
Inside, Kakashi paused while packing his gear pouch. He had few friends. Almost no one ever visited him at home. Still, he went and opened the door.
…No one?
Kakashi looked straight ahead, brow furrowed. A prank?
"Look down," Itsuki finally snapped, unable to watch Kakashi start closing the door.
He hadn't wanted to speak up. Being ignored because of his height was just humiliating! But Kakashi just wouldn't look down! Dammit!
"?"
Kakashi's gaze dropped. A familiar figure entered his view. Bafflement momentarily overpowered his confusion.
"Big Brother, I brought you a bento!" Itsuki, having swallowed his pride, held up the pink lunchbox with sparkling eyes. "Thank you for helping me this morning!"
Kakashi stared at the pink box. He had zero desire to take it. But those bright eyes… they reminded him of someone else. Before he realized it, the box was in his hand. His fingers brushed against a hard object attached to it—a pure white ribbon bow.
"..."
"Thanks." His voice was utterly flat.
[Ding! Strategy target Kakashi Hatake favorability: 31!]
Itsuki's eyes curved into happy crescents. Only a single point, but from the notoriously mercurial Kakashi? This felt like a real achievement. Those three hours weren't wasted.
He kept looking at Kakashi. Wasn't he going to invite him in? A perfect chance to farm more points.
"..."
Kakashi noticed the lingering silence. Just as Itsuki thought an invitation was coming, Kakashi asked, "Anything else?"
"...No." Itsuki's blink was stiff. "Nothing."
Kakashi gave a curt nod.
Slam!
The door closed.
Itsuki's expression twisted into something inhuman. He shook his fist at the empty air for three full seconds, then turned and stomped away. Argh! He'd find a chance to punch that jerk's stupid masked face one day!
Not long after Itsuki left, Kakashi finished packing his gear pouch. After a moment's hesitation, he stuffed the bento inside as well. It was a gesture of goodwill, at least.
…
The next day.
The sun was just cresting the horizon. Itsuki and the other little radishes were already gathered on the training ground under Sato Yagi's watch.
"Today, we practice shurikenjutsu!" Yagi announced. With a flick of his wrist, a volley of shuriken flew out, each one thudding dead center into a target.
"Whoa!"
"So cool!"
"Pfft! That's nothing!"
"I could do better!"
The kids buzzed with excitement, itching to try. Yagi gave a detailed, careful lecture on shuriken techniques before letting them loose to practice.
Sarutobi Aoki was at Itsuki's side in a flash, eyes shining. "Itsuki! Watch this!"
Swish!
The shuriken flew from his hand and embedded itself… in Uchiha Juri's target, right on the bullseye.
"Well?" Aoki ran a hand through his spiky hair, oblivious. "How was that? Pretty awesome, huh?"
"Er…" Itsuki pursed his lips. "How to put this…"
Say Aoki was skilled? He'd hit the wrong target.
Say he sucked? He'd nailed a perfect bullseye.
"Maybe… look for yourself?" Itsuki lobbed the question back. A tactic he'd picked up in a past life—when stumped by a tricky question, just deflect.
Little Aoki flashed a prematurely greasy smile, looking up with supreme confidence.
The next second.
"GYAAAAAH! HOW?!"
Uchiha Juri, standing beside his own target, snorted coldly. He plucked Aoki's stray shuriken from his target and, with a casual flick of his wrist, sent it thunking into the exact center of Aoki's own target. That single move spoke volumes about his innate proficiency.
Juri caught the flicker of surprise in Itsuki's eyes. A strange sense of pride swelled in his chest.
"Hmph! Mere shuriken are child's play for us Uchiha."
Itsuki had to agree. Fair point.
"What are you so proud of!" Itsuki's attention had been stolen. Aoki was a mess of urgency, anger, and shame. "I… I can do that too! I was just… doing it on purpose!"
"Heh." Juri shot Aoki a look of pure disdain.
Provoked, Aoki whirled and launched into a verbal sparring match.
Meanwhile, Itsuki hefted his own shuriken, gaze locked on his target ahead. His eyes were sharp, his whole posture radiating focus. The shuriken in his hand seemed charged with killing intent.
Sato Yagi, patrolling the grounds, stopped behind Itsuki. The kid's form was perfect, his aura impressive. Yagi nodded in silent approval.
Clink.
The sound of metal hitting dirt.
Yagi and Itsuki both froze.
Caw… caw… caw… A murder of invisible crows seemed to fly across the clear blue sky.
An eerie silence spread across the training field.
"PFFT—HAHAHAHAHA!"
Aoki, previously distracted by Juri, hadn't seen whose shuriken had flown. He erupted into howling laughter, his pointing finger trembling. "Oh god, I'm dying! Who's the genius whose shuriken didn't even hit the target? HAHAHA!"
He laughed for a good while before noticing everyone was staring at him. No one else made a sound. Even Juri was uncharacteristically quiet.
"Hah… ha… Why aren't you laughing? Are you all made of wood? This is hilarious!" Aoki gave them a soul-deep questioning look. "Itsuki, don't you think it's funny?"
The collective stare was making Aoki nervous. He instinctively sought validation from Itsuki.
"..."
Itsuki stepped forward and picked up the fallen shuriken. For the first time, he understood the phrase "so embarrassed you could dig a mansion with your toes."
Aoki's laughter died. His grin froze solid the moment Itsuki bent down.
"Itsuki… it… it was you?"
Itsuki had felt a little embarrassed before. Thanks to Aoki, he now felt monumentally, earth-shatteringly humiliated. Even a clay doll had a temper. Itsuki ignored Aoki completely.
The rest of the class unanimously endorsed this decision.
"Itsuki-kun, don't lose heart. Let me teach you." Uchiha Shisui walked over to him.
From a distance, Aoki gnashed his teeth. Sniff… That cunning Shisui!
"Won't that trouble you?" Itsuki asked, genuinely wanting to learn.
"Not at all." For Shisui, teaching shuriken basics was trivial.
And Shisui was an excellent teacher. Far better than Sato Yagi. Detailed. Patient. Gentle…
WARNING! WARNING! The Alluring Conquest System blared an alarm in Itsuki's mind. YOU are supposed to conquer Uchiha Shisui, not the other way around!
"Ahem!" Itsuki mentally retorted. "I know that!"
The system was seriously underestimating him!
After a whole morning of Shisui's painstaking tutelage, Itsuki's shuriken skill progressed from 'missing the target entirely' to 'sticking in someone else's target.'
The utterly exhausted Shisui actually felt this was significant progress. He shook his head. Must be an illusion.
[Ding! Strategy target Uchiha Shisui favorability: 39!]
It dropped a point?!
Itsuki stared at Shisui in disbelief. Seriously? Seriously? Just because he couldn't master shuriken? Was that worth a favorability hit?
"Shisui, let's eat lunch together!" Itsuki was determined to claw that point back.
"Hm?" Shisui nodded blankly.
They usually brought bentos from home and ate with friends. Shisui typically ate alone, not used to sharing. He felt a slight reluctance but accepted politely.
Half an hour later, his reluctance vanished.
Itsuki brought his 'Super Deluxe Ultimate Combo Meal' to Shisui's table.
"This… is all yours?" Shisui stared at the array of containers covering the entire table, doubting anyone could finish it.
"Yep." Itsuki nodded. His Six Eyes consumed massive energy. He had to replenish double. Hence the terrifying appetite.
Shisui looked from Itsuki's delicate, fair face to the mountain of rice in one box, speechless.
"Have some too!" Itsuki's lunch was catered from a good restaurant—delicious and varied.
Shisui went from polite refusal to happy acceptance in about three minutes.
"Sniffle…" From his original seat, Aoki bit his chopsticks, casting a profoundly resentful stare at Shisui.
"Stop that disgusting glare!" Uchiha Juri, sitting not far from Shisui, was caught in the crossfire of the stare. He frowned in distaste.
"Why? I'm not looking at you!"
"Stop it anyway! It's nauseating! Don't you know that?"
...
Another round of bickering erupted.
A certain pineapple-haired boy sitting in the row between them sighed deeply. So troublesome… Should've picked a different seat.
After a full lunch together, Itsuki finally managed to scrub Shisui's favorability back to a clean 40. He let out a heavy sigh of relief. Ever since starting this conquest gig, he couldn't stand seeing the numbers drop. It felt like an itch he couldn't scratch. Like a compulsive need to straighten a crooked picture frame.
Afternoon.
Sato Yagi began practical sparring drills. First, he needed to gauge their combat levels. He used a lottery to pair them up.
"Heavenly spirits, please… not Sarutobi Aoki." Itsuki clutched the paper ball in his palm, eyes shut in prayer. He was so earnest he mumbled the words aloud without realizing it.
Aoki, who had been creeping closer to beg forgiveness, felt like he'd been struck by lightning.
Uchiha Juri, who overheard by chance, looked at Aoki with a triumphant, mocking smirk.
Itsuki unfolded his paper. A familiar name:
Uchiha Shisui.
Whew! Not Aoki. Good.
Itsuki didn't hate Aoki. But he couldn't handle fighting the boy while being subjected to those grossly adoring stares. To avoid that ocular poison, Itsuki would probably just forfeit. That would ruin his 'genius prodigy' persona!
"The shuriken thing was a fluke," he muttered to himself.
Uchiha Juri opened his own slip. His face instantly darkened. 'Sarutobi Aoki'—the name was a physical assault on his eyes.
Damn it! Who wanted to fight that disgusting creep?
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