Renjiro’s eyes lit up with triumph, ecstatic, ready to gloat, ready to mock, basking in victory for once.

But before steel touched skin, Ryusei’s body flared with sudden speed.

The First Gate opened. His muscles burned with power, his frame blurred, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone from Renjiro’s front and standing behind him instead, a light pat landing squarely between the Hatake’s shoulder blades.

In the next instant, he was behind him, a light pat landing on the Hatake’s back.

Renjiro stiffened, shock cutting through his elation. Ryusei was the one smiling now.

The bout was over, and both of them knew it. It could’ve ended even earlier.

Renjiro froze, the triumphant grin wiped clean.

Slowly, he slid the tanto back into its sheath, exhaling through his teeth. “Tch… you damn bastard. You waited until the very end to pull that out?”

Ryusei’s narrow-eyed smile didn’t budge. “Why show all my cards before I need to?”

Renjiro clicked his tongue, but there was no real anger behind it. “Figures. Always scheming. I almost had you.”

“You almost did,” Ryusei admitted lightly, brushing off his sleeve. “But ‘almost’ doesn’t count when your neck’s on the line.”

For a moment, Renjiro just stared at him, then snorted, half a laugh, half frustration. “Fine. You win this one. But don’t think you’ll get away with it next time. My lightning’s only going to get sharper. No matter what you pull out again.”

Ryusei smirked, tilting his head. “Good. Get sharper. Makes it easier to prove I’m faster.”

Renjiro gave him a look that was equal parts irritation and grudging respect before turning back toward the patrol route. “Cocky bastard.”

Renjiro stared ahead for a long moment, then smirked, though it was thin and sharp, before turning his head back again.

“Fine. You win this one. But don’t get comfortable. I’ll surpass you, Ryusei. You can keep running ahead for now, but I’ll catch up, and when I do, I’ll cut right past you.”

Ryusei’s smirk widened a fraction. “Good. Then hurry up. Nothing’s more boring than an opponent who never improves.”

Renjiro let out a short laugh, equal parts challenge and promise. “Enjoy your lead while it lasts.”

With that, he turned back toward the patrol path, shoulders tense with determination.

Ryusei followed behind, hands tucked casually behind his back, his expression still warm and harmless to anyone watching.

Inside, though, he was already calculating how to widen the gap before Renjiro ever got close.

Ryusei watched Renjiro’s back and didn’t comment further, just smiled faintly.

Renjiro was simple: fight more, grow more.

That made him predictable, but also reliable. In contrast, Ryusei could turn that kind of simplicity into something useful. A blade he could sharpen, and a blade he could wield.

Their patrol ended, and on the way back, they found Kanae leaning against the wall of the outer barracks.

Her posture was stiff, head tilted, eyes closed.

At first glance, she looked asleep, but Ryusei could tell her breathing was too steady, her chakra still alert under the surface.

She hadn’t noticed them in time. By the time she did, it was already too late to slip away.

So she stayed still, pretending, hoping they would just pass.

Ryusei slowed, then smirked faintly. “Renjiro. Go take a walk.”

Renjiro raised a brow, then let out a low laugh.

“Oh, I see. You’re actually going to poke the ice queen while she’s ‘asleep’? Bold move.”

“Or maybe I just don’t want an audience,” Ryusei said mildly.

Renjiro glanced between the two of them, reading Ryusei instantly. His grin came sharp.

“Heh. Careful. She’s not the type you can joke with.”

“Neither am I,” Ryusei said evenly.

Renjiro let out a low whistle, amused. “Fine. She’s all yours.”

He turned and headed off, shoulders shaking faintly in laughter.

That left only Ryusei, standing over Kanae, who looked far too composed to truly be asleep.

Kanae’s eyebrow twitched faintly at the exchange. She hadn’t expected him to stop, let alone send Renjiro away like that. ‘What does he want to do? Did he realize I wasn’t really asleep?’

Ryusei stepped closer, studying her face.

Up close, the faint tension in her brow was obvious.

She was tired, her Byakugan had been pushed all day, but not asleep.

She was just resting her eyes, probably. The tiniest twitch gave her away.

It was almost too cute. Ryusei barely contained his laughter. He smirked, and already a plan was forming.

He masked the chakra presence of one arm with his sensory skill, then moved faster than she could react in her state.

His hand pressed gently over her closed eyes, and healing chakra flowed into them.

Kanae’s heart skipped, unease jolting through her chest.

She hadn’t dared to open her eyes, but suddenly warmth spread across the strain behind them. It was… pleasant.

Before she realized it, her eyelids lifted instinctively, only to find darkness, a faint glow of green seeping through.

Her face burned red instantly.

She grit her teeth, realizing what he was doing, and let out a sharp, flustered shout, low enough not to draw the whole camp’s attention.

Her palms snapped forward in a gentle fist strike, aiming to shove him back.

But Ryusei was already expecting it.

He caught her wrists with ease, his smile widening as her strength faltered in embarrassment.

Kanae’s face was flushed crimson as Ryusei held her wrists in place. She tried to twist free, but his grip was steady and unyielding.

“L-let go,” she snapped, her voice sharper than usual, though not as steady. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Ryusei’s narrow-eyed smile only deepened. “Healing your eyes. You’ve been burning them out all day. Someone has to stop you from collapsing.”

Her teeth clenched. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“No,” Ryusei replied lightly, “but you didn’t stop me either.”

Her breath caught, her cheeks burning hotter. “I—I was pretending to sleep. You were supposed to walk past.”

“I noticed,” Ryusei said, amused. “But you twitched. It ruined the act.”

Kanae glared at him, white violet eyes narrowed, but the fire in them was tangled with confusion and the faintest hint of panic. “You’re insufferable.”

Ryusei leaned in just a little closer, still smiling that unreadable smile. “And you’re terrible at pretending.”

Her heart hammered against her chest. For once, she had no comeback.

Ryusei already understood the truth.

Deep down, her instincts had probably marked him in her heart for a while now, the limbic brain pulling one way, while her rational mind constantly shoved it down, making her avoid him, ignore him, run whenever he got too close.

He knew the fastest way to break through that wall was simple: overwhelm the rational with the primal. Close physical contact.

And it worked. The usually composed Hyūga was flustered beyond recognition, dazed, unable to even try pushing him away again.

She looked nothing like the cold kunoichi she played every day, more like a fish dropped on the chopping block, wide-eyed and helpless.

Kanae’s wrists trembled slightly in his grasp, her face still red as she tried to avert her eyes. “Enough. I said let go.”

Ryusei tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to sound convincing. “Not until you let me finish. Your eyes are overworked —you’ll burn them out at this rate.”

Her breath hitched. “I don’t need—”

“We’re teammates,” Ryusei cut her off smoothly, his tone low but carrying a faint ‘warmth’.

“We’re supposed to help each other. Or do you really think I’d just watch you cripple yourself?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t pull away.

The hesitation was all he needed. His hand gently pressed over her eyes again, healing chakra flowing.

Kanae’s heartbeat thudded in her ears, and she hated how pleasant the warmth felt. “You’re… insufferable,” she muttered, voice quieter this time.

Ryusei smirked faintly, sensing her resistance fading. “Maybe. But I’m useful.”

Her fingers twitched, but she didn’t try to push him off again.

Instead, she sat still, cheeks flushed, letting the gentle current seep into her strained eyes.

Every second, her composure cracked further, the aloof Hyūga looking more and more cornered, caught between her pride and her body betraying her.

Finally, she muttered through clenched teeth, almost as if trying to convince herself: “This… doesn’t mean anything.”

Ryusei chuckled softly. “Of course not. Just teammates helping each other.”

Her brows knitted, though she still didn’t pull away. “Then stop talking like it’s more than that.”

“You’re always pushing yourself too hard,” Ryusei said softly, his hand steady over her eyes.

“I don’t need your pity,” she shot back quickly, though the heat in her voice was undermined by the pink on her cheeks.

“My heart aches seeing you like this,” Ryusei added in a mock-solemn tone, though the corner of his mouth curved upward.

Kanae stiffened, glaring at the darkness behind her eyelids. “Don’t… say ridiculous things like that.”

“Your eyes aren’t tools to burn out and replace,” Ryusei murmured, the teasing gone from his tone for just a moment.

Her lips pressed together. She wanted to argue, but no words came.

“Learn to heal them—or you’ll regret it later.” His smile returned, sly this time.

“I’ll teach you the basics of Yang Release and medical chakra. Unless… you’d rather keep depending on me.”

Kanae’s face burned red again, her voice caught between anger and fluster. “I–I’d sooner go blind than let you keep doing this forever.”

Ryusei smirked. “Careful. I might hold you to that.”

Kanae’s lips parted, ready to snap back, but no words came.

She turned her face away slightly, hiding the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. For a moment, she sat in silence, lost in thought.

The truth was, his offer caught her off guard. It wasn’t empty talk—she had already been considering the same path.

Recently, she had even started dabbling in medical ninjutsu herself.

Kanae was always searching for ways to grow stronger, but deeper down, another reason pushed her. The cursed seal on her forehead.

She had quietly wondered if medical techniques, combined with the Byakugan’s precision, might offer a way to break it someday.

And it wasn’t as if the knowledge was out of reach.

Unlike the more guarded techniques of the Main House, medical ninjutsu wasn’t locked away.

In fact, the clan encouraged Side Branch members to study it, to make the Hyūga more useful to Konoha.

Even a suppressed Byakugan gave them an edge, letting them see a patient’s body down to the smallest detail—a gift no other medic in the village could match.

That was why, just weeks ago, she had gone to the Hyūga Medical Research Institute, sat quietly through seminars, and brought home scrolls. She had begun practicing the basics. Progress was steady.

And now, Ryusei was offering to teach her the same thing. A coincidence, but a strange one.

Her heart skipped. ‘Did he know?’

Ryusei’s smile didn’t change, but she felt his gaze settle on her. He looked like he already knew what she was thinking.

It wasn’t prophecy, of course.

Nor did he really believe her eyes would go blind just from overuse. That was a joke.

Ryusei knew as well as she did—this world didn’t work like that.

If anything, constant strain was pushing her Byakugan further, evolving it.

That was why she persisted in using it so much, even when she didn’t need to.

Ryusei only used the excuse of “overuse” to bring the subject up.

Because he had noticed something.

He had sensed her chakra when she was alone, secretly practicing with Yang Release.

That told him what she was experimenting with.

And since medical chakra was his own forte, he immediately saw the opportunity.

An easy opening to bring them closer.

And now, the chance had landed right in his hands.

Ryusei’s tone shifted, still casual but carrying just enough weight to sound sincere.

“Actually, I can’t help you much with anatomy and procedural skills. That was always my weak point, and honestly, you’ve probably already surpassed me there. But I can help you with Yang Release.”

His smile tugged slightly. “You’ve heard of it, right? It’s the power that runs through every medical ninjutsu. Without it, no matter how sharp your knowledge or how perfect your chakra control is, you’ll hit a wall. But if you match your Byakugan’s precision with the Yang chakra I’ll teach you, you’ll become a qualified medic in no time.”

Kanae’s eyes widened faintly, her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t thought of it like that before. To her, medical ninjutsu had always seemed like a single specialized field: anatomy, memorization, chakra control, and practice. But when Ryusei broke it down, it made sense. Theory, insight, control… and that elusive Yang energy underneath it all.

Her clan gave her every advantage in anatomy. The Byakugan was unmatched for seeing into the body. She had scrolls, seminars, and her own hard work. But Yang Release? Even the Hyūga had no real advanced knowledge there. It was something most stumbled into only after years of medical practice, if they were talented enough. You either had it or you didn’t.

For him to say he could teach it directly, so casually, unsettled her. She thought of the progress she had just made: mastering Eight Trigrams One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms, finally nailing Vacuum Palm, breaking through the High-Chunin level, finally freeing time to branch out. She hadn’t held much hope for medical arts, but now, if he could make it easier—

Her face warmed, and an odd guilt settled in her chest. She looked away, her voice tight and evasive. “I… don’t have time for that right now. And besides, you make it sound simple. You can’t just hand over something like that.”

Ryusei ignored the words and kept speaking, tone calm but steady. “Actually, Yang Release isn’t some mysterious art. Chakra itself comes from physical and spiritual energy together—Yin and Yang. The first step toward Yang is simple: training your body. But tell me, how many medics do you see doing that? None. They bury themselves in scrolls, in lectures, in endless words, and forget the essence. The first principles.”

His hand remained gently over her eyes, chakra flowing in. “That’s why I, who only treat it as a side project, can already rival a special jonin medical-nin who’s spent years buried in hospitals. I’m not bragging—you’ve seen the injuries I’ve walked away from. You can feel it yourself right now.”

Kanae’s lips parted, but no sound came.

“The second part,” Ryusei continued, voice lowering, “is chakra control. Not just control—control with intent. Creating a chakra where the balance tilts toward physical energy, where the Yang outweighs the Yin. That’s the essence of medical chakra. You need to have the physical energy available, and you need to know how to bend it into shape. I can solve both for you.”

His tone grew serious, almost patient, almost sincere. “I’ll give you a training manual for your body, written by me but heavily inspired by, whom I consider, the best taijutsu expert in this village. And I’ll give you my own notes on Yang Release control, from experience. My bloodline made it come easier for me, but you can mimic the steps. Piece by piece.”

Kanae sat still, her breath shallow. At first, she had only half-listened, ready to dismiss his words.

But as he went on, something inside her twisted. Her stomach clenched, and her chest felt heavy.

She remembered. How she had mocked him since the day they met.

Looked down on him, treated him coldly, and reported him again and again to her ANBU handlers.

Every report, every observation, a knife pressed against his back, guiding him into danger.

Every danger he had walked into might have been sharpened by her words. And soon, there would be another.

Someone who could survive all those attempts and still keep growing stronger… he must have known a long time ago. Yet he never pushed her away.

And yet here he was. Still teasing her. Still pulling her closer.

Still pressing his palm against her eyes, not to blind her, but to heal.

And now, even offering and admitting something as foolish.

Her chest rose and fell unevenly.

She didn’t even realize at first that her eyelashes had dampened, that her breath had grown shaky, that her shoulders trembled faintly under his hands.

Warmth spread across Ryusei’s palms.

And then, barely audible, as if ripped out of her throat against her will, Kanae muttered:

“…Why…?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep