After training ended.
Rikusei stood in front of Naori's house, hesitating for a moment.
Mao, standing by the door, generously tilted her head toward the inside and invited him in.
The pure taijutsu sparring had left all three of them filthy, their dust-caked skin sticky and uncomfortable.
"Naori's parents went to watch an auction. There's no one inside right now."
Mao glanced toward the room where the sound of running water trickled, a mischievous smile curling across her lips.
The boy's movement before her made her pupils suddenly widen as she stared in disbelief at the figure drawing ever closer.
Before she could react, a crisp bang rang out, the impact traveling from her forehead to her ears.
Mao clutched her reddened forehead and resentfully watched the figure turning away. Her voice could not help carrying a trace of grievance as she called into the house, "Naori, Rikusei hit me."
Naori, wiping her hands, walked to Mao's side and curiously glanced at Rikusei's figure, faintly visible on the horizon.
Seeing the obvious red mark beneath Mao's fingers, Naori vaguely guessed what had happened. She poked Mao's cheek irritably. "The water's just right. Go on."
Rikusei smiled and shook his head as he walked down the road. Mao's little tricks were useless against him.
He was quite familiar with Naori's home. Whenever Grandmother was absorbed in playing cards, he had often gone there to mooch meals.
Her mother's enthusiasm was a little hard for him to handle.
He opened the door and glanced at the place where, using special methods, he stored Senju cells and Uchiha Madara's flesh and blood.
He, Uchiha Rikusei, was going to become the Sage of Six Paths. How could he keep living off others?
Still, to be honest, her mother's cooking really did smell delicious.
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