Dormammu (1/2)

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The year 45 of Konoha, on the eve of the Third Shinobi World War.

The autumn sky was high and clear.

At the Ninja Academy's target range.

Aburame Jianxing leaned against a tree trunk, basking in the warm afternoon sunlight. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes were narrowed contentedly, his long lashes seeming to cradle streams of golden light.

It felt so good he wanted to go: meow, meow, meow.

Beside Jianxing crouched a handsome black-haired boy with an indifferent expression, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth, looking roguishly cool. He held a branch and drew earnestly on the ground.

Hyuga Ryosuke, a member of the Hyuga Branch Family and one of Jianxing's few friends, possessed a pretty face and a thoroughly unreliable soul.

"What are you drawing?" Jianxing asked curiously.

"Can't you see for yourself?"

"I did. I asked because I couldn't understand it."

Ryosuke stared at the drawing on the ground and pondered for a moment. "Sorry, it's too abstract. I can't understand it either. Just think it's whatever you think it is."

That was just how unreliable he was!

"Being a ninja is such a waste of your artistic talent," Jianxing said sincerely.

"I think so too."

Ryosuke deeply agreed and laughed without the slightest shame. He raised his head slightly, sunlight falling across him from the side as if he had ten levels of beauty filters on, drawing shrieks from the female fans.

"So handsome!"

"I'm dying! I'm dying... He looked over here!"

"Relax, he's looking at me. Get lost, ugly!"

"..."

Ryosuke put on a troubled expression, while secretly delighting inside. Two words described him perfectly: closeted narcissist.

"Shallow," Jianxing said disdainfully.

"Who? Me,