The Grandmother Who Scams Her Grandson

Rikusei skillfully pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the front gate.

Accompanied by the rustling of leaves, Rikusei searched the courtyard for his grandmother.

After a brief search, he discovered a note left on the table.

"Grandma has gone to the square to dance. Dinner is already prepared; my cute grandson must finish all the celery!"

""

Rikusei stared at the familiar handwriting, falling into a daze.

The concept of square dancing had been his own suggestion.

During a casual chat, his grandmother had complained that the new village was too boring and felt much like their old clan grounds, so Rikusei had offhandedly mentioned that she could dance in the square to exercise.

In any case, the village currently lacked many things, but it certainly did not lack open space.

When he had once gone to pick his grandmother up, Rikusei discovered that elderly Uchiha were terrifyingly formidable; their wild, unrestrained dance moves were chilling, though their sluggish execution made his heart settle.

It was a war dance.

The choreography was adapted from the taijutsu honed through years of turmoil.

As Rikusei chewed his food slowly, he recalled that his grandmother's dance style was surely a cut above the rest. With the years of experience he had accumulated from being harassed by square dancing in his past life, she should easily be able to take first place among the elderly Uchiha.

"Cough, cough!!!"

His grandmother, having returned early from the dance square, patted Rikusei's back gently. Seeing him spit out the miso soup he had choked on, she sat down opposite him.

"Is the Senju Clan going to have a decisive battle with the Uchiha Clan?" Rikusei asked urgently, his cheeks flushed. That shouldn't be right! They had just built the village; why were they declaring war again?

"It's a square dance competition!" His patient grandmother took a fan from the cupboard and explained to her beloved grandson, "Don't underestimate Grandma! Grandma is now the lead dancer for the Uchiha Clan!"

Rikusei stared wide-eyed at his silver-haired, high-spirited grandmother, and asked uncertainly, "Does Teacher know?"

"You mean Madara?" The grandmother's face, previously filled with fighting spirit, returned to its usual kindness. She waved her fan, stood up, and walked toward the door. "What do children know? I'm going out to find your great-uncle to discuss tactics."

Very spirited, was all Rikusei could think to say.

The elderly Uchiha and the elderly Senju had begun to clash; he wondered what kind of bloody scene the day of the competition would bring.

Rikusei stood up, cleared the bowls and chopsticks, and began his daily training.

First was the refinement of chakra. He was still growing, so the amount of his chakra increased steadily, neither too much nor too little each day.

As for the precision of his chakra control, that was also progressing slowly; there was no need to rush, he would focus on filling his chakra reserves first.

Ever since he first refined chakra, the cells in his body had never stopped craving it, as if they could never be fed enough.

Consequently, he possessed far more chakra than his peers.

According to Madara's assessment, he was on par with his peers from the Uzumaki Clan.

Although his single-tomoe Sharingan could only enhance his dynamic vision, Rikusei was extremely satisfied with this, and he felt that at this rate, the day he awakened the double-tomoe was not far off.

Outside the window, the scattered lights of the village gradually flickered out as the twilight deepened.

Resigned, he set aside the Fire Style Scroll Madara had given him, stood up, and headed for the bathroom; he needed to sleep early while he was still in his prime growing years.

The next day.

Rikusei stepped across the dew-covered grass, heading toward the agreed-upon location.

In the dense forest, a girl wearing Uchiha casual clothes was waiting for him. Her purple hair hung straight down to her chest, and two short blades were slung diagonally across her waist.

Although they were short blades, their length was taller than the young Naori herself.

"What are we training today?"

Rikusei walked to the girl's side and asked softly.

"Swordplay." Uchiha Naori was concise and to the point, taking the short blade from her waist and handing it to the boy in front of her. "You are permitted to activate your Sharingan."

Intense confidence—no, it should be called absolute confidence.

She had the foundation to be confident.

In every taijutsu training session, Rikusei had never once defeated her.

Duels involving kunai and swordplay almost always ended in his defeat.

Gripping the short blade in his hands, Rikusei lowered his center of gravity and steadied his stance. He held his breath, watching her every movement intently under the insight of his Sharingan.

A gust of wind blew.

No.

It was her moving.

The figure before his eyes had clearly vanished, and his rotating tomoe searched the surroundings for the girl.

The humming sound produced by the violent collision of short blades drilled into his ears from every direction.

After a flash of steel, Naori stood in front of him, calm and composed, watching him quietly.

Now it was his turn to attack.

Gathering chakra into his feet, Rikusei lunged forward, sparks flying wherever his blade pointed.

The clash of blades severed a lock of hair from Naori's forehead, her indifferent gaze leaving him stunned.

The rhythm of the fight remained firmly in her grasp.

While their taijutsu was essentially evenly matched, Rikusei was at a clear disadvantage in swordsmanship.

Again!

Rotating the hilt to adjust his angle of attack, Rikusei increased the force in his grip and slashed out suddenly.

The snow-white blade flashed with light as it descended, but Naori calmly raised her own sword to meet it, skillfully deflecting the incoming force amidst the collision.

After the close-quarters engagement, Naori stretched the fingers that had been gripping her hilt, easing the numbness in her hand.

She knew very well that she could not defeat Rikusei through brute strength and speed alone; she could only win by mastering the art of the blade.

This was the very reason she wanted to spar with Rikusei: to break through her own limits under immense pressure.

The exchange continued.

The short blades, inherited from the era of war, remained completely unaffected by the sparks flying from their collisions.

An opening!

Rikusei lunged forward to strike at Naori.

With a twist of her blade catching his hilt, a burst of clever leverage sent his short sword flying from his hand, where it landed firmly embedded in the soil.

The defeated Rikusei smiled as he pulled his blade from the dirt: "That's a new move!"

After taking the short sword, wiping it clean, and sliding it into its sheath, Naori tidied her slightly disheveled hair and replied: "It won't work next time."

"What are we competing in next?" Rikusei asked the girl beside him after resting for a moment.

"Rikusei, have you heard about the decisive battle between the Senju Clan and the Uchiha Clan?" Naori's bright eyes sparkled as she leaned in close and whispered.

Could this news have already spread throughout the clan?

Rikusei nodded in response: "I heard the grandmother mention it. Has the time been set?"

Naori shook her head to indicate that wasn't the point.

"Then what is it?" Rikusei asked curiously.

"Sigh." Naori, sitting on a rock, let out a breath and gently swung her bandaged legs, looking toward the village in the distance as she said: "Every age group must have participating contestants."

Understanding what had happened, Rikusei was speechless, his hand trembling as he pointed first at himself and then at Naori.

Naori nodded in confirmation: "The list has already been submitted."

In the morning light, Rikusei felt as though he had been set up by the grandmother; no wonder she had been rushing out the door last night and this morning—it had all been a trap.

"Will the clan heads be participating?"

"Both clan heads will be there."

The girl sitting on the rock spoke in a tranquil voice, relaying words that filled him with despair.

Rikusei could already imagine himself dying of embarrassment on the spot.