As they walked toward the Hokage Building, Ryusei and Duy talked idly, the conversation drifting back to their sparring sessions.

Guy could keep up with Ryusei’s training drills; his grit and long familiarity with those exercises let him hold his ground despite the two-year gap, but in actual taijutsu sparring, he still fell short.

The difference was too large. That was why Ryusei had been sparring more seriously with Duy these past few days, especially as his own corrections and adjustments made him far sharper at taijutsu than the original owner.

At one point, Ryusei asked openly, “So, how do you think I’ve been improving?”

Duy answered without hesitation, his tone both encouraging and firm. “Tremendous. You’ve made more progress in weeks than some manage in a year. But you’re still missing the edge that only comes in tight, real battles. You should work on that during this mission for a bit.”

He paused, then added, “But, your stance, your form, your footwork, they already look complete. They suit you well. Don’t try to change them.”

Ryusei gave a polite nod, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

But in Duy’s mind, thoughts ran deeper. Something like this couldn’t have come from Ryusei alone. It had taken him over a decade to refine his own style to that level of completeness.

For this boy to stand there, already moving with such a base, it had to come from some deeper heritage, knowledge passed down, not invented in a year.

And though Duy was known for his foolish optimism and loud personality, he wasn’t actually a fool.

No shinobi who could climb so far on nothing but their own two hands could be lacking in intelligence.

He knew Ryusei carried secrets, perhaps even plots.

Yet, he also felt certain of one thing: those secrets weren’t aimed at him or Guy. Ryusei’s intentions were about growing stronger, not bringing them harm. And that was enough.

Duy even found it refreshing. Most shinobi laughed at him and Guy, dismissing them with stereotypes or ignorance.

But this boy… he understood them in a way others didn’t. He respected their philosophy, trained alongside them without mocking their way, and treated them with politeness despite his own obvious talent.

Duy glanced at him as they walked, thinking, ‘Maybe he’s already become Guy’s first real friend his age… one who actually sees us for who we are.’

Soon, they arrived in front of the Hokage’s Building.

The plaza was bustling with shinobi of all ranks, the usual mix of squads gathering for assignments.

Ryusei’s three teammates were already waiting near the entrance.

He parted with Might Duy, who gave him a hearty thumbs-up before heading straight inside the building to find his own day’s “mission.”

Ryusei turned toward his own group, Okabe, Renjiro, and Kanae.

Okabe’s eyes lingered on Duy’s back, his expression calm but his thoughts less so.

‘The Eternal Genin…? Why would Ryusei associate with someone like him? Do I need to report this also?’

He knew Duy’s famous ‘reputation’; many shinobi in the village did. Hard worker, sure, but mocked more than respected.

His thoughts were sharp, but his expression never broke; outwardly, he smiled and greeted Ryusei.

Still, he couldn’t help but notice something different.

Ryusei wore a full-sleeved dark blue uniform today, despite the heat, with a brown, unofficial protective vest with Konoha’s symbols as well. It looked more disciplined, more deliberate.

“I need it,” Ryusei explained lightly, catching Okabe’s glance.

A grin tugged at his lips, narrow eyes curved. “Because I’m wearing training weights under it. All over my body.”

He let that sink in, then added, “That senior from earlier, he’s my new training partner. One of the hardest-working men I’ve ever seen.”

Okabe’s brows twitched in puzzlement, though he only nodded politely. His mind turned over the implications, but his lips stayed shut.

Renjiro, however, had no such restraint.

His eyes followed Guy’s strange green outfit, similarly full-sleeved, disappearing inside the building, then slid back to Ryusei.

His voice came out dry and sarcastic.

“He doesn’t look that strong to me. Ryusei, are you sure you’re not wasting your time? What’s the point of all this body training anyway? Didn’t you ignore taijutsu until recently? Just strapping on weights won’t make you stronger. Unless, of course, you want me to prove it to you directly later?”

Ryusei’s grin faded into his usual polite mask. He answered evenly, “After what happened last time, when I was beaten badly in taijutsu and almost died from the injuries, I decided I’d never let it happen again. I looked down on taijutsu before because I didn’t know any better.”

Renjiro’s smirk sharpened, but before he could reply, Okabe spoke up, his voice calm but carrying quiet authority.

“Ryusei is right, Renjiro. Knock it off. Don’t underestimate taijutsu. There are many paths to strength. Your clan’s hidden kenjutsu is one of them, but not the only one. Ryusei deserves credit for learning from his setback and dedicating himself to improving. That’s what a shinobi should do.” He gestured toward the building. “Now, let’s head in and see what C-rank mission we’ve got today.”

Renjiro clicked his tongue but said nothing more.

Ryusei glanced toward Kanae next, yet she ignored him perfectly, not even acknowledging him with a look.

She had been silent since the moment he arrived, not even bothering with a greeting, her face unreadable.

‘Still so cold,’ Ryusei thought to himself.

‘After saving her before, I thought things warmed up a little. But now… It’s as if the month apart froze her right back.’

He suppressed the irritation behind a mild expression.

‘Tricky. She lives in the Hyūga compound, and there’s no way I can get in there. But if these C-rank missions stack back-to-back, without any complications anymore, I’ll have plenty of time to wear her down, to warm her up again.’

What Ryusei didn’t know was that Kanae’s indifference this time wasn’t as effortless as usual.

Normally, ignoring him came to her as naturally as breathing.

But when he approached, her eyes betrayed her for just a moment.

She noticed his slight growth in stature, the way his new clothes sat neatly on him, the forehead protector half-hidden under his bangs, and, of course, those narrow, fox-like eyes.

Something about him felt… different. Off. Or maybe it wasn’t him at all.

Maybe it was her. Why was she even noticing such pointless details?

So, before he reached them, she forced her gaze aside, locking her face into its usual cold neutrality.

Yet it didn’t settle into place as easily as before, and that alone unsettled her.

Her brows tightened slightly. ‘What’s happening to me? Why am I even paying attention to these things?’

‘Never mind. If I hold my composure, it’ll pass. Everything will go back to normal.’

She kept her face forward and her silence intact as the four of them stepped inside toward the mission desk.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep