This was why Ryusei had already created a sensory barrier a few feet out from where he and Kanae sat.

He wasn’t careless; he knew exactly where he was, and here, even walls had ears.

That was why he avoided mentioning anything too sensitive.

When he did speak of something, like his bloodline’s natural link to Yang Release, pretty harmless on the surface, he activated the barrier.

It was his newest accomplishment, recently mastered, and it cloaked the space with spoofed chakra patterns.

A combination of sensing and barrier ninjutsu, like many such variants in the original series.

Anyone trying to probe inside with chakra would find only static, nothing real.

Of course, hearing was another matter.

But Ryusei had already swept the area with his own sensory perception and confirmed there wasn’t a soul nearby, not even within the range of chakra-enhanced hearing.

Meanwhile, on the surface, nothing had really changed.

Minutes passed with Ryusei still leaning in, his hand warm against her eyes, his voice a steady rhythm of half-flirting, half-teasing jabs.

Kanae’s face burned red, trembling from shame, not only from the flow of Yang chakra but from the way he refused to stop.

He wore that same narrowed-eyed, “gentle” smile the entire time, as if he was enjoying every second of her discomfort.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. With a sharp swat, she knocked his hand away.

Her still-watery eyes snapped open, flashing with irritation.

“How long do you plan to keep this up? It’s already healed.” To prove it, she flared her Byakugan, veins standing out as her pale eyes glowed.

The intent was clear: to intimidate him, to scare him off, to make him back away.

But Ryusei only smirked, tilting his head as if admiring her. “Beautiful,” he said simply, not even pretending otherwise. “Veins and all. You really shouldn’t make that look so ethereal if you don’t want people staring.”

Kanae froze, heat surging to her face again. She clenched her jaw, about to retort, when her eyes flicked to the faint shimmer in the air. She realized, with her vision, that there was a sensory barrier surrounding them.

“You… set this up?” she muttered, suspicion cutting through her voice.

Ryusei chuckled softly. “Of course. You didn’t think I’d have this kind of conversation in the open, did you? Even walls have ears here. But now,” his grin tugged wider, “only you and I get to hear me teasing you.”

Her lips pressed tight, unsure if she should be unnerved or something else.

Then Ryusei’s tone shifted, just slightly. “Anyway, for real this time. I was planning to give you these.” He reached into his vest and, with a puff of chakra, unsealed a scroll.

With practiced motions, he unrolled it, revealing two sets of neat notes, one on body conditioning, the other on Yang Release chakra control.

Kanae blinked, surprise flickering across her face. Then guilt crept in again, weighing down her chest. She stared at the scroll, then at him, and finally raised a brow. “…You knew, didn’t you? That I’d already started learning medical ninjutsu.”

Ryusei didn’t even hesitate. “Of course. I spied on you.” His narrowed smile curved in amusement, not a shred of shame in his voice.

Her cheeks flamed. “You…!”

But he only shrugged, speaking in that same casual tone, though his words were sharper than usual. “I’ve been planning to give you this for a long time. The problem is, you were like an ice block that would bite me if I asked. So I waited. Took the opportunity now instead.”

His expression softened just a little as he slid the scroll closer to her. “I don’t have any other purpose here, Kanae. Just to help. I really believe in your talent. You’ll pick this up faster than you think.”

Kanae’s heart twisted strangely. Complicated emotions welled up as her Byakugan lingered on him, catching micro-movements others would miss.

He was sincere. Truly sincere. It felt foreign.

People had praised her talent before, yes, but always in the same way: attributing it to her clan, her blood, her Byakugan.

Ryusei’s words were different. He meant her. He believed in her ability to master it.

For some reason, that hit her harder than anything else.

Kanae’s fingers hovered over the scroll before she finally gave in with a small sigh. She took it, eyes turned aside.

“I’ll… accept it. But don’t expect me to thank you. You decided to hand it over, so it’s on you.”

Her tone tried for cold, but it faltered, a faint shake in her voice giving her away.

She knew inside that this wasn’t the only way Ryusei had encouraged her.

Over the past few months, Kanae had watched him do what no one else could: defy the odds stacked against him, again and again.

Surviving schemes spun by the village’s entire upper apparatus, walking back from battles where he should have died.

Each time, she found herself admiring him a little more, even if she never allowed it to show on her face.

He looked like what she wished she could be: someone breaking chains, someone who spat in the face of fate itself.

Without realizing it, she had begun rooting for him in silence.

She even used him as motivation. Seeing Renjiro grow alongside him with that relentless focus on Lightning Release had pushed her, too.

She pushed herself through sleepless nights, refining her Byakugan until she mastered the One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms and even the Vacuum Palm, leaping forward in strength until she stood at high-chūnin level.

Not so far behind them anymore. She even picked up medical arts, determined to carve out her own next step.

But what she didn’t realize perhaps was that, like the Uchiha, the Hyūga’s eyes were touched by emotions.

Not as extreme, not as volatile, but still influenced to a small extent, their dojutsu still strengthened by feelings deep inside. And she already had feelings for him.

She knew and even admitted it to herself just now. Admiration, real and genuine. Feelings between a girl and a boy.

And yet, even with that admission, she could never stray from her mission. Not then, not now.

Their paths were different. They were destined never to walk side by side in this life.

She had her own road, just as he had his.

All she could do was pray for him quietly, that he would continue to last, continue to survive the impossible, continue to grow strong, enough to one day threaten the shacklers that bound him.

As for herself, she would try to do the same.

But in her heart, she felt the weight of inevitability.

Even if they wanted to, fate would never allow them to truly be together while holding the cards they had been dealt.

So she buried those emotions deeper.

She could cheer for him silently, from the shadows, at best.

Yet even as she told herself that, one question lingered in the back of her mind, a question that chilled her whenever it surfaced:

What if her next mission involved him more directly? What if the order was not just to monitor, but to end him?

She didn’t know what she would do. And she didn’t dare imagine what it would mean when that day came.

Meanwhile, Ryusei sensed her aura shifting.

The warmth she’d shown a moment ago was gone, swallowed again by that heavy darkness she always carried, and more.

If he pressed her too hard now, it would only backfire.

She was not in the right state currently.

And the ‘magic potion’ he just gave her was slowly wearing off.

So he didn’t tease her anymore.

Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, his expression unreadable, and answered her last words with something vague, almost mysterious, just enough to linger in her mind.

“…Talent like yours shouldn’t rot in a cage forever.”

“…One day, you’ll understand why I gave you that.”

Then, without waiting for a response, he turned and left.

A while later, Ryusei had dozed off in the corner of the camp, arms folded behind his head, mind drifting just enough to recharge.

His sensory field, however, never slept.

It had been honed to perfection over the past months, his subconscious attuned to the faintest shift in chakra signatures.

That was why his eyes snapped open instantly.

His body moved before thought fully caught up, hand brushing against a kunai out of habit.

Okabe was striding toward him at speed, face tight, and flanking him were several Root operatives, masks blank and identical.

Their chakra was sharp, disciplined, but Ryusei could sense the faint agitation beneath the surface.

He sat up slowly, narrowing his eyes. “So much for a nap,” he muttered under his breath.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep