A new home

The midday sun baked the boundary markers of the Senju Clan Compound hot as Utsusemi made her way around, following the map Tobirama had given her.

"Even stray cats don't want to come through here," Hashirama said, seemingly complaining, but actually pointing out the advantage of this land as a natural barrier.

The land was like the entrance to a carefully designed maze. It belonged to no clan, yet led anyone coveting it into the bounds of the Senju Clan Compound.

Utsusemi had already pulled Hashirama to the house site. She unfolded the designs for the three-story house and showed them to him.

Hashirama Senju stared at the plans in amazement and pointed to the overhanging eaves. "The roof looks good, but are you sure it can hold up?"

Utsusemi opened her sketchbook. "I calculated the load. The resilience of Wood Release can easily support it!" She grabbed his wrist and pressed his hand against the plans.

Hashirama turned his head and gazed at Utsusemi. The way she acted was completely different from everyone else's, giving her a sense of being out of place.

Hashirama Senju brought his hands together, and the three-story structure rose from the ground like segments of bamboo.

Tobirama Senju noticed that every piece of furniture concealed a clever mechanism. These designs...

He pressed down on the back of the chair Hashirama was carving, his fingertips sinking into the wood. "Big brother, don't tell me you've incorporated all the clan's secret techniques... into it?"

Hashirama Senju smiled and used Wood Release to repair the punctured chair back. "See? This is what Utsusemi meant by multifunctional."

Tobirama Senju looked at the furniture returning to its place on its own. "Not even a daimyo has designs like these. The mortise-and-tenon joints, the mechanisms that make them return to their places—even a puppet master couldn't make them."

He looked at his brother gravely. "This isn't technology from the Shinobi World, or even from this world!"

Hashirama Senju smiled calmly. "Tobirama, look how nice this furniture is. It can return to its place by itself. How convenient."

His voice held the tolerance particular to an elder brother. "Don't look too deeply into it, don't dig into everything, and don't concern yourself with where she came from."

"Sometimes, knowing too much can cost you a precious connection." A gentle smile blossomed on his face. "As long as she can help us, that's enough."

The meal at the new house was set for evening, and the setting sun cast dappled light and shadows over the divided hot pot.

On the left, fragrant mushroom broth bubbled away. On the right, angelica and goji berries floated in the mutton broth.

Like an agile black-and-white kitten, Itama stood on tiptoe, arranging jade-green baby napa cabbage and carrot slices on a white porcelain plate.

Utsusemi took wagyu beef, shrimp paste, pearl meatballs, an assortment of stuffed pouches, and other things out of the Spacetime Tower.

The large platter of assorted mushrooms in particular had been prepared especially for Hashirama after Utsusemi heard that mushroom mixed rice was his favorite.

A knock came from the entryway. The Senju brothers had accepted the dinner invitation and could smell the aroma from the living room from a long way off.

Hashirama Senju's chopsticks hovered over the mushroom platter for a moment before he picked up a mushroom with translucent edges. It was not any variety known in the Shinobi World.

The moment the mushroom melted on his tongue, he tasted a pure, cultivated freshness, without the earthy tang of soil.

Hashirama Senju noticed Utsusemi glancing at the mushrooms out of the corner of her eye. He stuffed the whole mushroom into his mouth and deliberately made an exaggerated sound of satisfaction as he chewed.

He was quietly using Wood Release to hide some uncooked mushrooms in his sleeve. When he looked up, all he showed was a satisfied smile.

Tobirama Senju's chopsticks paused briefly over the divided pot, and his gaze swept across the boundary between the mushroom broth and the meat broth.

There wasn't a single piece of fish, only goji berries and angelica bobbing up and down.

He remembered Utsusemi frowning when she saw the grilled fish at lunch, and the fake smile she wore as she pushed it toward Itama.

Those fish she had deliberately avoided now came together in his memory to form a clear picture.

As Hashirama marveled at the mushrooms' savory flavor, Tobirama picked up a snow-white shrimp with the tips of his chopsticks. In this carefully prepared feast, even the fishy smell of fish broth had been completely eliminated.

Tobirama turned his gaze to the boiling mushroom broth, the steam blurring his eyes.

Following his brother's example, he picked up a slice of delicious beef, and an unfamiliar, savory sweetness blossomed on his tongue.

Some answers did not need to be pursued, just as some fish bones did not need to be pointed out.

Utsusemi pretended not to notice Hashirama's little act of hiding the raw mushrooms. The charcoal fire crackled, and the aromas of mushroom broth and meat mingled in the room.

Moonlight poured over the roof. Utsusemi stood on the terrace of her new home, watching the Senju brothers say goodbye to her.

She looked through the window at Itama's busy figure. The boy had finished clearing the dishes and was clumsily tinkering with a mechanism Tobirama had hidden, while the flowers Hashirama had concealed in a compartment in the wardrobe were already scattered all over the floor.

She chuckled and teleported back to the Spacetime Tower. She had only been away for two days, yet she found it so unforgettable.

Her own cheat, her personal space, was of course more important than anything else.

Looking at the house, filled with the three men's thoughtfulness, she thought that compared with the presidential suite in the Spacetime Tower, this place felt more like a gentle trap.

Utsusemi stepped back onto the tiled floor of the Spacetime Tower, and the elevator doors opened for her.

The Tenseigan told her that Itama was safe outside, and he could come in at any time.

The barrier she had set up around the new house prevented anyone outside from detecting how many people were inside. Itama could return to the Spacetime Tower at any time.

Utsusemi stepped barefoot into the elevator, which was carpeted in Persian wool. The entire tower's smart system immediately recognized her unique biometric features.

The moment she entered the presidential suite, the smart system quietly activated.

The bulletproof glass curtain wall switched to projection mode, and the scenery of her hometown and white noise appeared before her. The scrutiny and prying that had followed her like a shadow were gone.

Even knowing their spying was a natural precaution, Utsusemi still disliked being watched like that.

Only the sound of her breathing and heartbeat remained in the Spacetime Tower. The crystal chandelier cast patches of light onto the bulletproof glass, looking just like the inescapable gazes in the Senju Clan Compound.

Utsusemi let herself sink into the cloudlike mattress, all the disturbances shut outside the door of the luxurious suite.

Utsusemi closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her. This would always be her perfect haven.