The plank in the middle of the floor had buckled upward to half a fist high.
Dark red liquid sprayed up through the gaps-not seeped, sprayed-in a thin stream, scorching little yellow-brown circles into the wood where it landed. A burnt smell hung in the air.
Trunks stood barefoot beside it, a golden glow slowly lighting up around him as the roots of his hair began to turn yellow.
Hinata took two steps back. She did not dare deactivate her Byakugan, but her face had already gone pale.
Ayame leaned halfway out of the kitchen with a pot, raising it a little higher. Her long brown hair hung beside her neck, and she stared at the plank without moving.
"Trunks, are you going to transform?" Tsunade pushed herself up against the edge of the table, her blonde hair draped over her shoulders. A streak of dried ink still marked the cuff of her Kage's Ceremonial Robe.
"If I don't push it down now, it'll break through."
The gold at Trunks's roots deepened further. Golden light climbed from the soles of his feet, and the pressure surrounding him pushed the two nearest chairs half a meter away.
The plank rose another notch.
Shikaku edged aside with his files tucked under his arm and found a pillar to lean against, looking far too calm for a normal person.
"If you tear this place up, the old man will chase you all the way to Sunagakure with a spatula."
Trunks's golden glow paused for a second, and he glanced toward the kitchen.
Teuchi's voice drifted through the door, as calm as if he were discussing what flour to use that day.
"Trunks, I laid that plank myself twenty years ago."
The golden light went out.
Trunks shoved both hands into his pockets.
"...I