Chương 11: Nawaki

By the time Shingo entered Class 1-A, a considerable number of students had already arrived. Standing at the doorway to take a look, he noticed that the early-arriving students had mostly chosen to sit in the front rows proactively, leaving quite a few vacant seats toward the back. Consequently, Shingo eventually found a seat near the aisle in the back row and sat down casually, silently observing his classmates in the room.

Soon enough, a member of the Hyūga clan in the front row, who was chatting in low tones with a fellow clansman, turned his head inadvertently and happened to lock eyes with Shingo, who was looking right at him. The next second, the man's voice cut off abruptly, his eyes widening in an undisguised expression of shock. Shingo gave a soft, internal sigh. Another acquaintance. This time, it wasn't a case like Tsunade's, where he recognized her while she remained oblivious to who he was.

Hyūga Yūji, born to the branch house, with both parents also hailing from the branch family. Back when they used to train within the clan compound, the two had crossed paths and sparred a few times. No, calling it a sparring match wasn't quite accurate; it was essentially Shingo delivering unilateral guidance to him. Within the Hyūga branch house, Hyūga Yūji was considered one of the very few individuals who had never subjected Shingo to sneers or mockery.

While others mocked Shingo, claiming that no matter how much of a prodigy he was, he would ultimately end up branded with the Caged Bird seal just like the rest of them, Hyūga Yūji genuinely admired Shingo's strength. He even harbored a slight sense of hero worship. That was precisely why Shingo had been willing to guide him in the Gentle Fist during their sparring sessions back then.

Had it been any of the other branch members, whose malice could be felt without even needing to activate the Mind's Eye, Shingo wouldn't have spared them even a passing glance. Hyūga Yūji stared at Shingo for a few seconds, instinctively wanting to stand up and offer a greeting as he usually did. However, the moment his hand braced against the edge of the desk, his entire body froze. Those pitch-black eyes of Shingo felt like a heavy hammer striking right against his skull.

It left his entire mind swimming in a daze. Wait, hold on... where is Shingo-aniki's Byakugan? And why hasn't he been seen anywhere in the clan compound for this past period? Does it have something to do with his Byakugan being gone? A torrent of questions choked his throat, robbing him even of the simple ability to stand up. The instincts cultivated by years of life in the branch house made him subconsciously swallow down every single question.

He didn't dare to walk over rashly, nor did he dare to directly ask Shingo what on earth had happened. Countless speculations churned within Hyūga Yūji's mind, yet on the surface, he could only force an appearance of breezy nonchalance. He turned his head back around and resumed his conversation with Hyūga Hideki beside him, though a distinct sense of abstraction had crept into his tone.

"What's wrong?" Hyūga Hideki asked with a hint of puzzlement, glancing along the direction Yūji had just been looking, but failing to spot anything out of the ordinary. Although Hyūga Hideki was aware of the existence of someone named Hyūga Shingo, he had never truly interacted with Shingo, and the few times he had glimpsed him from afar had not been enough to leave Shingo's face etched in his memory.

"It's nothing." Hyūga Yūji's thumb unconsciously hooked over his index finger as he tried his best to keep his tone sounding effortless. Noticing his state, though curiosity still lingered, Hyūga Hideki dropped the line of questioning. Yet when he spoke again, his voice was noticeably lower. Shingo also withdrew his gaze, paying them no further mind. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. After a brief sweep of observation, Shingo quickly began to feel restless.

Over this recent period, he had grown accustomed to high-intensity training; sitting quietly in a classroom waiting like this suddenly made it difficult for him to stay idle. Shingo reached into his ninja tool pouch and pulled out a training kunai. He had picked it up on a whim a few days ago while buying clothes; aside from its edges lacking a sharp blade, it was identical to a kunai used in actual combat.

His fingers hooked through the loop at the end of the handle, spinning the kunai in a tight arc around his knuckles before catching it securely once more. At first, it was just a simple flip, but then the speed gradually picked up and the movements grew increasingly intricate. Within moments, the kunai was fluttering continuously across Shingo's fingertips like a spirited sprite.

"Hey, you're in this class too!" A very familiar voice suddenly sounded beside his ear. Shingo looked up to see that Nawaki had comfortably claimed the seat right next to him with an air of easy familiarity. Seeing that Shingo showed no sign of repulsion toward him, the smile on Nawaki's face grew even brighter.

"Let's get acquainted. I'm Nawaki, and the person with me earlier was my older sister, Tsunade. From now on, we're classmates, so I look forward to working with you." Shingo tucked the kunai back into his waist pouch and clasped the right hand Nawaki had extended.

"Shingo." Nawaki gave a firm grip, and upon releasing his hand, beamed even more happily.

"After you left, my sister actually said you had great strength! She hardly ever praises anyone." Shingo chuckled.

"Haha, glad I didn't make her angry. You know how it is, I came by myself, and if I hadn't used a little strength, who knows when I would've managed to find the classroom."

"Understandable, totally understandable! Don't worry, my sister definitely wouldn't mind a tiny little thing like that."

"Though how come you came alone? Didn't anyone from your family send you off?" Although the question carried a hint of intrusion, Shingo could sense that Nawaki meant no malice whatsoever. It was pure, straightforward childish impulse. He thought of something and simply blurted it out. Hearing this, Shingo answered directly without hesitation:"There's only me left in my family."

"You... I..." The smile on Nawaki's face froze instantly. He opened his mouth, seeming eager to offer an explanation, yet completely at a loss for how to word it. Finally, with a sharp slap, he delivered a heavy strike to his own face. He struck hard enough to leave his cheek visibly reddened. Watching the handprint blooming across Nawaki's face, Shingo drew a sharp breath of air.

"Let's just pretend I didn't say anything." Nawaki frantically scrambled to dredge up a different topic of conversation. Initially, he remained somewhat reserved, his words stumbling and halting as he worried he might reopen Shingo's raw wounds. Yet, true to his thick-skinned nature, it didn't take long before the red mark on his cheek had yet to fade, and he had already bounced right back to his natural, optimistic self. Once Nawaki's conversational floodgates were blown open, there was truly no stopping them.

He kept tossing out various topics for Shingo to engage with, while Shingo offered the occasional murmured assent. Mentioning the scene by the school gates earlier, Nawaki couldn't help grumbling:"My sister always says I'm the one who stirs up trouble, but she used to run off to the gambling dens every single day when she was my age. She's been causing way more trouble than me ever since she was little." Seeing his indignant expression, Shingo couldn't help letting out a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?"

"I was just wondering, next time I run into your sister, should I mention this to her?" Hearing those words, Nawaki panicked on the spot. Seemingly visualizing the terrifying image of Tsunade's fist coming down upon his head, his voice pitched up a notch:"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Shingo, you can't do that! I treat you as a friend telling you this secret, you can't be so unloyal!"

"Relax, I'm just joking. How could I ever do something like that?"

"Hehe, good, that's a relief." Hearing that, Nawaki let out a long breath of air and happily resumed chattering about other matters. For the most part, Shingo simply listened as the two of them exchanged words. Through the scattered pieces of Nawaki's chatter, he caught a glimpse of the daily life enjoyed by Konoha's genuine crown prince. The legacy of the Senju clan, the affection of family, the care of elders, Nawaki was a child wrapped entirely in warmth and goodwill.

Coupled with an excellent upbringing, it had fostered the sunny, kind, and slightly rash disposition he possessed today. When he spoke of Tsunade, Orochimaru, and the Third Hokage, it might have sounded like boasting at first glance. Yet Shingo's Mind's Eye detected zero malice; what was there instead was pure candor, enthusiasm, and warmth. And, of course, a tiny smidgen of guilt and regret for having put his foot in his mouth earlier.

The only reason Nawaki kept talking nonstop was to prevent the conversation from freezing over and dragging them back to that awkward moment. Once all the students had gathered, the teacher walked through the classroom door. The previously boisterous classroom quickly quieted down. Yet Nawaki, acting as though he hadn't quite finished talking, stubbornly tacked on one final sentence at the very end:"Oh, right, what I said earlier was true.

My grandma makes amazing mushroom soups; next time, I'll definitely bring some for you to try at my house." Having said that, he stared eagerly at Shingo, waiting for a reply. He didn't even notice the teacher on the podium looking their way. It wasn't until he saw Shingo give a slight nod and utter a soft "Alright" that Nawaki finally closed his mouth with a satisfied grin. As Shingo watched the teacher organize the roster up on the podium, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Truth be told, Shingo didn't truly know much about Nawaki. In the original work, Nawaki was a character who only ever existed within the recollections of others. Tsunade's younger brother, Senju Hashirama's grandson. A boy remarkably similar to Naruto, harboring the exact same dream of becoming Hokage. He died in the Second Great Ninja War at the tender age of twelve.

His death was not only one of the primary reasons Tsunade later developed hemophobia, but also marked the starting point for Orochimaru as he began questioning the fragility of life and embarking down the path of pursuing immortality. Yet now, having actually conversed with Nawaki, a far more vivid image took shape in Shingo's mind, replacing that simplistic symbol from before. Boisterous, passionate, kind... He really did resemble Uzumaki Naruto quite a bit.

Growing up in entirely different environments, the two would undoubtedly harbor plenty of distinct personality traits. Yet beyond a doubt, both of them possessed a heart of gold.