Might Duy slowed mid push-up, glancing at her with mild confusion, while Guy froze entirely, staring with open curiosity.

“Is this…?” Guy whispered to his father, wide-eyed.

Duy’s gaze flicked between Ryusei and the girl, and a strange understanding crept across his face. He coughed into his fist, then muttered, “Guy, keep counting. Let them… sort this out.”

Ryusei pretended not to notice, his smile deepening as he watched Kiyomi stop a few steps away, her eyes burning with a mix of pride and irritation.

The training ground had suddenly gone quiet, the air thick with tension.

Kiyomi stopped a few paces from him, her five subordinates halting in sync behind her.

Her eyes swept over the training ground, then fixed on Ryusei, lingering on the sweat-drenched state of his shirt, the way his chest still rose and fell from exertion.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” she said, her tone clipped, sharp. “Running around in the dirt with this pair of famous village eccentrics, instead of facing me like a real shinobi.”

The officers behind her smirked faintly, expecting her to cut him down with words like always.

Ryusei only narrowed his eyes with that “warm” look, the faint curve of his lips playing at mock politeness.

Kiyomi folded her arms as her voice cut across the training ground.

“Still hiding behind that fake smile, I see. I half-expected you to grow a backbone after last time. Guess I was wrong.”

Ryusei tilted his head slightly, wiping the last trace of sweat from his brow before letting his hand drop lazily to his side.

“A backbone, hm?” His voice was calm, faintly amused. “Funny you’d say that, when you marched all the way here with an audience just to see me. Sounds more like you were the one missing something.”

A ripple went through her squad. 

Kiyomi’s brows twitched. “Don’t flatter yourself. I came because this sector is under my patrol today. Running into you is just… unfortunate coincidence.”

Ryusei’s smile didn’t shift an inch. “Coincidence. Of course.”

His eyes half-closed in that narrow, harmless way of his, but there was a faint glimmer that made the word sting.

Guy, who was squatting nearby mid-set, whispered far too loudly, “Father! She came all this way just to fight him, right?”

Duy dragged him by the collar before he could say more, his expression somewhere between awkward sympathy and the weary look of a man who’d seen this story before.

“Guy, keep your fire focused on training. This is… another kind of sparring.”

The Uchiha officers frowned, clearly disliking the interruption, but their captain’s focus never wavered from Ryusei.

Her eyes flashed, and for a moment, the faint swirl of red chakra bled into her irises before she caught herself.

“Don’t misunderstand. If I wanted to fight you, I’d have already knocked you flat. I just came to remind you—”

“Remind me of what?” Ryusei cut in smoothly, his tone light, almost mocking.

“That you’re still angry about losing composure last time? Or that you’ve been waiting for me to find you again all this time?”

The words landed like stones dropped in still water.

Even Duy glanced up, startled by the sharpness under the boy’s smile.

Kiyomi stiffened, heat crawling up her neck, though she masked it with a scoff. “Waiting? Don’t make me laugh. I don’t waste time waiting for people like you.”

Ryusei’s gaze lingered, steady and unhurried, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Then why does it feel like you’ve been carrying me around in your head this whole time?”

One of her subordinates coughed into his fist, muttering under his breath, “Captain…” as if to warn her, to not get riled up by this kind of person again, like the last time, but she didn’t hear him.

Kiyomi’s fists had already clenched at her sides.

Ever since her last meeting with Ryusei, Kiyomi had found herself strangely restless.

She would drift off during missions, toss in her bed at night, irritation prickling under her skin for no reason she could name.

Yet every time, it was the same narrow-eyed, annoyingly handsome face that replayed in her mind, along with that teasing smile and mocking tone.

She told herself it was anger.

That it was her subconscious punishing her for letting him slip away last time when his sensei arrived and pulled him off to the Hokage Building.

Kiyomi was not someone who let “disrespect” slide.

And Ryusei had openly teased her, the first person bold enough to ever do so to the ‘little princess’ of the Uchiha clan.

Unable to shake it, she eventually leaned on her connections in the Police Force, digging through reports, patrol logs, and some colleagues’ words until she pinned down what he had been up to, training with that bizarre father-and-son duo in green.

The discovery had only made her more curious, though she never admitted it.

So today she had arranged her squad’s patrol route to this sector, hiding it behind the excuse of “law and order” duty.

For two months, she had ignored the strange pull, pushing down the fluttering thoughts and body’s odd reactions.

But eventually she realized the only way to untie this knot was to confront Ryusei directly.

Beat him up, scold him, whatever it took, her instincts screamed at her that it was the only way to restore her balance.

Or at least, that’s how she justified it to herself.

Yet, just now, she froze, again, and didn’t muster the strength to launch an attack on him or even ask him for a duel like in the Academy, for some reason, after seeing his face again.

Additionally, when she heard Ryusei’s calm words cutting to the heart of it, she felt like her whole being was shaken slightly.

The truth she didn’t want to admit loomed right there in front of her for the first time.

Maybe her anger wasn’t just about “disrespect.”

Maybe the reason it burned so fiercely was because he had teased her like that—and then vanished for two months, as if nothing had happened.

Everyone in the village knew who she was. He could have come to the Police headquarters any time.

He could have asked about her patrols and cases. But he hadn’t.

And that thought irritated her most of all, because buried under the anger was something else.

Some small, unspoken expectation that he would show up again for some reason.

Ryusei watched the faint daze in her eyes and sighed inwardly.

He knew exactly what she was thinking.

In her subconscious mind, he had “flirted” with her and then abandoned her for two months, as if mocking her with silence, prompting her to seek him out again on her own, which was rare for a female, but she was a unique one, such that even Ryusei didn’t predict this scene.

But now that she has arrived, the milk has already been spilled, and he could only bite the bullet and continue the dynamic from the last time.

The truth was far simpler. He had no interest in drawing more suspicion on himself, much less walking into the Uchiha Police headquarters of all places.

Survival and training came first. He had only ever planned to seek her out again if the war itself created the right opportunity.

Ryusei hadn’t expected her to storm in like this, dragging five subordinates behind her, and now Duy and Guy were both staring at the two of them with faces full of barely disguised curiosity. That part was almost embarrassing.

Additionally, the moment he caught the sharp set of her jaw, the anger in her expression, as she arrived here, he understood.

Kiyomi had probably gone through some elaborate mental gymnastics to rationalize this visit, not that she came because she missed him, but because she had to “punish” him, or demand revenge, or some equally self-deluding excuse. Typical tsundere pride, really.

So instead of explaining himself, he chose to attack first, not with fists, but with words.

Whoever gave ground first in this little duel of theirs would be the loser.

If he let her control the momentum, he would spend the whole encounter defending.

Better to knock her balance away at the start, tease her, and force her thoughts to stumble.

Though Duy and Guy weren’t exactly masters of social nuance, Duy had at least once been married, so he understood enough to recognize what was happening after seeing the young girl’s expression and awkward silence in the field, in addition to Ryusei’s previous behavior.

He coughed loudly, then grabbed his son by the shoulder, pulling him away from there, under the pretext of running some more laps.

Guy resisted at first, still staring, then pumped his fist in the air and shouted, “You can do it, Ryusei! Show her the flames of youth!”

Ryusei nearly choked on his own breath at that, while Kiyomi blinked, her composure cracking for the briefest moment.

Clearly, Guy had taken the whole thing at face value, convinced the Uchiha girl had come to formally challenge Ryusei to a duel from her temperament.

Duy shook his head at his son, whispering something about “letting them sort this out,” but it was too late; Guy’s booming cheer still echoed across the training field as they left it.

But, before Ryusei could speak again, maybe to soften the mood, maybe to twist the knife further, Kiyomi straightened, collecting herself.

Her emotions slid back behind a cold mask.

“If you dislike making a scene so much, like the last time…” She said, voice steady, “Then this is perfect. Not many eyes here. You can fight me with a piece of mind. And you don’t have a choice.”

Her words cut across the clearing like a challenge issued in front of a court.

Ryusei let the silence stretch for a beat, then gave that narrow-eyed smile again, his voice playful. “No choice, huh? You sound like you’ve been waiting two months to say that.”

Her eyes narrowed, her cheeks tensing faintly.

“Fine then,” he continued smoothly, gesturing toward the treeline.

“But if we’re going to do this, let’s not ruin Duy’s training ground. Come. Deeper in the forest. Unless, of course, you’re afraid of being alone with me.”

The last line landed sharp, teasing, with just enough weight to sting.

Kiyomi stiffened, a flush threatening to break through her mask. “Don’t flatter yourself. I only came to knock you down, nothing more.”

“Then you’d better prove it,” Ryusei replied calmly, already turning toward the forest path.

His stride was confident, almost lazy, but every step was deliberate, a provocation.

Kiyomi hesitated half a heartbeat, then followed, her subordinates exchanging awkward looks before trailing behind.

Ryusei smirked to himself. Accepting her challenge was more than just a spar; it was another step in ‘subduing’ her.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep