Vast Sea, Boundless Sky

Mingmie Chijian.

It was clearly a barbershop, yet its location was far from the bustling areas of Konoha, tucked away near the outskirts, nestled between hills and water. There was no sign on the door, just a simple wooden plaque; had it not been for the regulars, no one would have known what purpose this place served.

Even if some busybody, out of idle curiosity, pushed the door ajar to peek inside, they wouldn't see hair clippings scattered across the floor. Instead, they would see a "roji" garden paved with vast stretches of white gravel. Along a path winding through the garden, a clear pond lay to the left, where a few koi occasionally swam by, sending out delicate ripples. To the right stood meticulously pruned maple trees—red maples, all thriving. It was easy to deduce that the owner was a person of great artistic refinement who held a deep fondness for the scenery of "autumnal red leaves."

As it turned out, this scenery was not only loved by the owner but by the customers as well. The fact that Mingmie Chijian's revenue rose by thirty percent every autumn was the best proof of this.

As for the origin of this enigmatic barbershop's name, it came from a haiku written by the owner himself: "Fireflies flicker, light intermittent; between a foot of space, one gleam, one fade; how can one bear such loneliness?"

The first half, referring to the intermittent light of fireflies, echoed the shifting shadows created by hair falling before a customer's eyes during a haircut. "Foot" could be likened to the scissors in the barber's hand, and "space" could also refer to the room itself.

Thus, this poem was transformed into the shop's name by this barber, who possessed quite the artistic pursuit.

As for the meaning behind the latter half, "how can one bear such loneliness," the owner had never answered.

Some said it was because the owner loved the aesthetic of mono no aware and was simply expressing his emotions at the end. Others claimed that every time the owner finished a customer's hairstyle, it was like completing a work of art, and after pouring his heart and soul into it, he felt a temporary, unavoidable sense of emptiness. Still others suggested that the owner felt his haircutting skills were peerless throughout all of Konoha, and standing at the summit, he naturally felt empty, lonely, and cold...

In short, while everyone had their own theories, these rumors all pointed to one fact: this shop was incredible, and the owner's haircutting skills were top-tier.

Although in the early days of the shop, the fact that the owner was bald raised quite a few doubts, his haircutting skills were truly solid, and his respectful attitude toward hair was genuinely impressive.

Therefore, bolstered by various factors, this shop gradually distinguished itself from ordinary barbershops, becoming a "high-end establishment" that only accepted regulars—people from the upper echelons of Konoha. Naturally, the owner became a legendary figure in the Konoha barbering world, held in high esteem.

However, today, this "legendary figure of the barbering world" encountered a trouble in his career that was neither small nor insignificant.

Setting aside the fact that today was Monday, the shop's day off, and how infuriating it was to be dragged out of a rose petal bath by a round of knocking, the owner considered himself a man of professional integrity. His customers were regulars, half-friends even. To come here on a day off without an appointment must mean they had encountered an emergency that required a haircut—usually, that meant a funeral or a marriage proposal. In life, only death and love were forces one could not resist.

Therefore, this was the moment for him, the guardian of image, to take action; it was his duty to live up to his customers' trust.

But when he opened the door, what on earth was this brat with messy blonde hair, wearing an eyesore of an orange outfit, standing in front of him?

As mentioned, this owner was a man of artistic pursuit. According to him, a haircut was never just a casual job left to the barber's whim; it was a collision between the barber's skill and the customer's aesthetic.

In other words, the barber's aesthetic must never overstep its bounds; the customer's needs must come first. The barber's subjective consciousness could only exist after the customer had made their request, using his experience and skill to make the result more beautiful—merely adding flowers to a brocade.

Correspondingly, this required the customer to have their own aesthetic as well. In the owner's view, this was a mutual selection and mutual respect between customer and barber.

To put it bluntly, a customer could not lack aesthetic sense; they had to understand the feel of the hairstyle they wanted. If they opened their mouth to say "whatever" or "anything is fine," he could only say that his skills were not refined enough to know what kind of hairstyle "anything" was, and ask the customer to seek a more capable master.

That's right, this owner was a man of such principles and style.

As for whether he used this as an excuse to screen the quality of his customers, drive up the average transaction price, and incidentally flatter his regulars... that was something the owner would never admit.

Anyway, in short, a kid like this—with messy hair that hadn't been cut in months, a dirty face, smelling of sweat, and wearing ugly clothes—was clearly devoid of any aesthetic sense. He absolutely could not be let in!

Probably just a villager who heard rumors from customers and is curious to try it out.

Glancing at the patches on Naruto's clothes, the owner had already made up his mind.

"Boss... um, I'm here for a haircut."

As a standard "country bumpkin" of Konoha, Naruto, who didn't have the slightest connection to the upper class, naturally didn't know the ins and outs of this shop. He just followed Ino's instructions and said sheepishly.

"A friend recommended me."

"The shop is closed today..."

I don't accept customers—just as the principled and stylish owner was about to say these cold words and shut the door, his peripheral vision caught sight of Yamanaka Ino acting somewhat coy not far away, and he changed his tune quite smoothly:

"But may I ask who the customer's friend is?"

Hearing this, Naruto pointed to Ino, who for some reason had distanced herself a few steps and was pretending to be a refined young lady... even though she was the one who had dragged him here like a duck to water.

Then, Naruto produced a red hard card with the word [Yamanaka] engraved in a maple leaf:

"She said she's a member and can bring people in for a haircut?"

"A friend of a customer is a friend of mine. The day off applies to outsiders, not to friends. Please, come in."

The owner's expression melted like ice and snow. A smile of perfectly balanced humility and pride bloomed on his face, and he very compliantly opened the door to usher the boy and girl into the garden.

The owner, of course, would never admit that he let the boy in because he recognized the young lady of the Yamanaka clan and didn't want to risk offending the famous Ino-Shika-Cho group of Konoha.

No matter who asked, he would only say that at that very moment, he had used his artist's eyes—eyes gifted at discovering beauty—to spot the potential for beauty in the boy.

He had already decided that even if this boy said "anything is fine" or "whatever" later, he wouldn't say anything more...

What?

You ask where his principles went?

How funny. Principles are not such rigid things; they must be based on reality and adapted to local conditions, right?

Sometimes, taking a step back makes the sky wider and the sea broader for everyone.

"May I ask the customer's name?" The owner, possessing great social awareness, did not ask about the relationship between the two. "Oh, forgive my rudeness, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Daigo Tono, the owner of this Mingmiechi Residence—if having only one employee counts as being an owner."

Having said that, the owner rubbed his gleaming bald head and laughed heartily. While remaining polite, he teased himself first, showing no airs and making it easy for others to feel a sense of affinity.