Going to the Land of Iron was definitely out of the question now.
Sen gritted his back teeth.
He stuffed the two coins he had just taken out back into his pocket.
"Shikamaru, you and your damn jinxing mouth."
Sen sprinted along the dirt road behind Konoha.
His flip-flops scraped sparks off the stone paving.
The soles grew scorching hot from the friction.
Before he even reached halfway up the mountain, he heard a noisy commotion.
When he reached the manor gates,
Sen sucked in a sharp breath.
Good grief.
Four flatbed carts stood outside the entrance.
A dozen shirtless movers were dripping with sweat.
They were squeezing through the entrance with a large reddish mahogany wardrobe on their shoulders.
Beside them sat stacks of boxes filled with pots, bowls, utensils, bedding, and sheets.
There was even an enormous freestanding full-length mirror.
"Careful! Chip a corner and it's coming out of your pay."
Kurenai Yuhi wore loose, floral-patterned house clothes.
Her hair was casually pinned up behind her head with a plastic claw clip.
A pair of fluffy pink slippers hung from her feet.
She held a palm-leaf fan, fanning herself.
A fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead.
She didn't look like an Elite Jonin at all.
She looked more like a middle-aged woman haggling at the market.
"Stop, stop, stop!"
Panting heavily, Sen lunged forward.
He spread his arms in front of the large wardrobe.
"Put everything down!"
The movers froze.
They exchanged bewildered looks, still holding the heavy wardrobe.
Kurenai turned and saw Sen.
She raised an eyebrow, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth.
"Oh, you're back."
"Had your fill of ramen?"
She walked over and reached out to brush the dust from Sen's shoulder.
The gesture was as natural as if they were