Chapter 23: A Forced Melon May Not Be Sweet, But It Still Quenches Thirst
Only the few operatives who had just been in the hidden room knew about Atsui's arrival. The guards outside had yet to be informed.
So when they saw Seiji, they didn't react defensively—per Samodo's orders.
But now, the younger brother who was supposed to be quietly slipped into the Ninja Academy had already been discovered by Seiji.
"…Fine. Come with me," Samui said, setting down her cloth and heading upstairs.
Seiji immediately followed.
"Big sis?" Atsui scratched his head, confused.
Why was she going upstairs?
He hadn't seen the face of the boy in front of his sister and assumed it was just a customer.
Shrugging off the thought, he picked up the cloth Samui had left behind, stood on tiptoe, and started wiping the greasy tables.
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Samui's fingers trembled slightly as she pushed open the door to the second floor, but she quickly masked her emotions and stepped aside to let Seiji in first.
There was a small break room upstairs—narrow and sparse.
A low table and a few floor cushions sat in the corner by the window.
Soft daylight filtered through the window, casting a warm glow in the room.
But that warmth did nothing to thaw the cold tension clinging to Samui.
Seiji sat down casually, long fingers tapping rhythmically on the tabletop.
His gaze settled on Samui.
"Since we're up here, let's not waste time," he said lazily. "Give me a sword technique—something practical, not flashy. If it doesn't suit me, I'll just come back next time."
It was an audacious demand, but Seiji made it with total calm.
If he was going to take advantage of a situation, he was going to wring out every drop.
There were powerful Lightning Release techniques, sure.
But they often consumed huge amounts of chakra and weren't suited for public use.
People would start asking where Seiji had learned them.
Sword techniques, however, were much easier to pass off.
If they didn't look too special, they could be dismissed as basic training.
"…Alright," Samui said with a nod.
The techniques she gave Seiji would be reimbursed by the village, anyway.
She told him to wait a moment, and not long after, returned with a scroll.
Aside from their famous Lightning techniques, Kumogakure was also renowned for swordsmanship.
In the ninja world, "sword" and "blade" were often interchangeable.
Take Killer Bee, for example—his "Many Blades Dance" could control seven thin swords simultaneously and had nearly overwhelmed Sasuke, forcing him to rely on his Mangekyō Sharingan.
Seiji accepted the scroll, but his eyes didn't go to it right away.
Instead, his gaze slid up to Samui's face… then slowly drifted down.
From her elegant features to her pale, slender neck—and then further, to the generous curve of her chest.
Samui could feel his stare.
Her face remained composed, but the cold glint in her eyes deepened.
She knew that look all too well.
As a spy, she'd seen all kinds of men.
And that gaze—she recognized it immediately.
Her short golden hair swayed gently as she moved, and the slight tremble in her chest made the atmosphere more tense.
Seiji's gaze paused on her face for just a moment before shifting lower—to the hem of her skirt.
His eyes traced the length of her legs, and a spark of interest flickered in his otherwise calm demeanor.
What kind of expression would the seemingly cold and reserved Samui make…
if she were forced to do something she didn't want to?
"Miss Samui," Seiji said suddenly, with a soft, slow smile.
His tone was casual—but laced with quiet menace.
"Your little brother… he's still young. Full of promise.
It would be such a shame if something… unfortunate happened to him, don't you think?"
Samui's face stayed composed and cold.
But the flicker of emotion in her eyes was now impossible to hide.
Calm and composed as she usually was, Samui found herself unable to hold it together when it came to her only younger brother.
"Don't be so tense," Seiji said with a faint smile. "All I'm asking for… is a little more sincerity from you, Miss Samui."
The air in the room turned heavy, thick with unspoken tension.
Sunlight poured across the low table, but it couldn't dispel the stifling pressure that filled the room.
Samui stood frozen for a moment, then slowly lowered her eyes. Her fingers unconsciously clutched the hem of her skirt.
If she refused Seiji now, he might go straight to Samodo.
Worse yet, he could report this entire safehouse.
If that happened, none of them would escape from Konoha alive.
What else could she do?
Even if she brought this to Samodo, he likely wouldn't intervene—this situation had been sparked by her own careless words.
Where Seiji's gaze lingered, Samui felt like needles were piercing her skin.
Her fingers clenched tighter… then slowly loosened.
At last, she lifted the hem of her skirt just slightly.
She didn't speak.
Her expression remained cool and distant, hiding every trace of emotion.
In the sunlight, her long, pale legs came into view, her beautiful face tinged with a hint of icy defiance.
Seiji's grin widened.
To him, Samui working for Kumogakure was aiding a wicked cause—guilty by association.
His left eye darkened—then turned scarlet, a single black tomoe forming in the center.
One-Tomoe Sharingan.
Even the dormant right eye stirred for the first time, a crimson hue beginning to creep into it, as if on the verge of awakening.
A special kind of chakra flowed through Seiji's brain toward his right eye.
He could feel it: just one more push, and his second Sharingan would fully awaken.
Kumogakure wanted his body.
The Uchiha wanted his loyalty.
And on top of all that, the Fourth Great Ninja War was looming.
Add to that the lingering frustration from his encounter with Uchiha Hazuki earlier—now, at least, he had found an outlet.
A forced melon may not be sweet… but it still quenched thirst.
Even in the middle of exhausting training, one needed occasional distraction and balance.
"Not bad," Seiji said, voice smooth. "That's the kind of sincerity I like. Makes me a little more interested in returning to Kumo."
But then…
Just as he tugged the skirt halfway up, he abruptly stood, stopping the gesture himself.
Despite being shorter than Samui, the move somehow made him feel in control.
The moment was strange. Absurd, even.
"That's enough for today," Seiji said casually, slipping the scroll into his robe. "Next time, be more careful with your words, Miss Samui."
He turned and walked away.
No need to push too far—for now.
If he humiliated her too much, it would only make things difficult later.
He still needed her cooperation to get more jutsu in the future.
Know when to stop—too much force ruins the game.
Samui looked barely fifteen.
Samodo, on the other hand, was clearly in his thirties and not one to mess with.
Pick your battles. Always squeeze the softer fruit.
The door shut with a light click, the sound unnervingly sharp in the silence of the room.
Samui remained where she was, her shoulders trembling slightly.
After a long while, she finally let go of her skirt and leaned weakly against the cabinet.
The face that was always so cold and elegant now flushed faintly red with repressed emotion.
"…It's not like he saw anything," she muttered bitterly, sighing deeply.
If only she hadn't said that one careless sentence earlier…
If only Seiji hadn't latched onto her…
Maybe he would've targeted someone else.
About two minutes later, light footsteps approached the door, followed by a cheerful voice:
"Big sis?"
Samui immediately straightened, pushing down every trace of emotion before turning to face her younger brother's innocent expression.
Atsui looked puzzled.
That guest had left, and his sister had stayed upstairs for some reason.
Was she… just tired?
Samui knelt down and gently brushed his golden hair aside, her gaze soft and aching as she looked at his pure, unknowing face.
If protecting his future meant enduring this… then it was worth it.
For the sake of her only family—her brother.
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