About an hour after dinner, Hayato and Sarara were cuddled up on the sofa, enjoying some tenderness, when—ANBU ninjas arrived.
I ****** (use your imagination; it was quite spectacular.)
Hayato was furious enough to flip the table, but it was his own table, and buying a new one would hurt his own wallet. So Hayato decided to endure it, bottling up his resentment as he waited for the right moment to explode.
The moment he saw Jiraiya and Yuto wearing innocent expressions while standing like a couple of street punks, Hayato could more or less guess what had happened.
They must have run into Jiraiya while fooling around outside.
Hayato had never intended to hide Yuto's existence. It was not as if Yuto was someone shameful—why hide him? The problem was that he had not succeeded last night, and it felt like ten thousand ants were scratching at the tip of his heart. Tonight, Hayato had planned to be a diligent ox and plow the fields earnestly and meticulously, yet another accident had happened.
Tsunade, Jiraiya, Yuto—I, Hyuga Hayato, will remember this debt.
"What kind of huge disaster did you cause?!"
Hayato roared. Without another word, he drove a Gentle Fist strike straight at Yuto's chest, while secretly blinking at him.
Hayato: Got it?
Yuto: Got-the-fuck-it!
The coded exchange was complete.
Yuto cried out in grievance, "You're accusing me?!" Then, filled with righteous indignation, he met Hayato's attack with Gentle Fist.
Gentle Fist against Gentle Fist.
For a time, palm winds whistled through the Naruto's office. The seemingly soft and nimble attacks concealed lethal intent.
Hayato blinked again.
Yuto failed to understand and hesitated for a moment.
When masters exchanged blows, hesitation was no different from courting death. Of course, Yuto was not worried that Hayato would actually kill him