“Click.”

  Just as Link was deep in thought, the sound of a door opening broke the silence, followed by measured footsteps approag.

  "..."

  Another cssiara pineapple hairstyle appeared—this one smaller. The boy entered, scratg his head, but froze upon notig a guest in the house. He swallowed his words and stiffened.

  "This is my son, Shikamaru," Nara Shikaku introduced the younger pineapple head aured for him to e over. "This is Link, a in."

  The resembweeher and son was uny.

  Shikamaru hesitated for a moment, his expression unging but clearly muttering "troublesome" in his head as he begrudgingly walked over, sat ly beside his father, and gave a small, polite bow. Despite his posed demeanor, his thoughts were already far away.

  Link nodded in aowledgment and then said, "Sensei, I’ll be in your care from now on."

  The decision to bee Shikaku’s apprentice was simple.

  By officially aligning himself with the previous geion’s "Nara" of the Ino-Shika-Cho trio, he gaihe Nara ’s bag—a signifit advantage.

  In the short term, this move would solidify the moderates’ trust in him.

  In the long term, it provided a stepping stoo being a Jōnin or even a Hokage.

  As for the Hokage’s sacrifices? "If I ever bee Hokage, why would I care about those?" Link mused.

  Shikaku smiled warmly, stroking his goatee. Whether this arra urely political or not, it was undeniable that gaining such a talented apprentice was a boon.

  Meanwhile, Shikamaru’s half-lidded eyes shot open, his mouth slightly agape. His face screamed "Did I miss something?" as he gnced between his father and the now-upright Link.

  His questions multiplied.

  "Feel free to e by if you ever need anything," Shikaku said, standing up. "Why don’t you stay for dionight? You and Shikamaru are about the same age; it’ll be good for you to ect."

  "Troublesome… troublesome… troublesome…" Shikamaru muttered internally.

  His father didn’t give him a ce to protest, walking off cheerfully. "I’ll leave you young folks to it."

  Left in the living room, the two boys sat across from each other, staring silently.

  "Link."

  "Shikamaru."

  They introduced themselves again, then fell bato silence.

  Eventually, Shikamaru decided to take the initiative, feeling it was his duty as the host. "I’ve heard about you. A prodigy who became a in in the same year you graduated."

  "You ftter me," Link replied dryly.

  Ironically, Shikamaru himself would achieve the same feat during the in Exams.

  "I saw you at Yakiniku Q earlier today," Shikamaru tirying to keep the versation alive.

  "Mm." Link’s response was short.

  Shikamaru stood abruptly. "I’m going to the bathroom." He left and didn’t return.

  "He’s probably not ing back," Link thought, gng at the door.

  Talking with someone as prematurely mature as Shikamaru was slightly challenging for him. Their dynamic had shifted too quickly from strao a peculiar form of camaraderie—after all, Shikaku was now his sensei.

  Whether in his past or current life, Link believed the boween master and apprentice was ily close, especially in a profession like being a ninja.

  Betraying a mentor was something only a particur deranged individual would do. Even Orochimaru, when fronting Hiruzen, had to stab his own hand with a kunai to resolve his inner flict.

  Hell, Orochimaru shed tears afterward.

  "Still… keeping some distance might be better," Link thought, attempting to maintain his usual detat.

  …

  Corre: Keeping distance didn’t help much.

  Li utterly out of pce as he walked home.

  Shikamaru’s mother, Shikaku’s wife, Yoshino Nara, was exceedingly weling.

  Upon learning that Link was an orphan and now "family," she smothered him with kindness, versation, and .

  Meanwhile, Shikamaru had eaten and disappeared, and Shikaku sat silently beside them, not daring to interject.

  What should’ve been a casual dinner had stretched until night.

  "A meddlesome woman with no cept of boundaries," Link thought, shaking his head.

  Drawing a breath, he refined his chakra, formed hand seals, and smmed his hands together.

  "Summoning Jutsu."

  As the teique activated, he projected his thoughts into the ether: "Any Konoha ninja out there?"

  "Figures. Another damned brat from Konoha, pying with life ah... (I about fifteen profanities here)."

  Link celed the jutsu without hesitation, blog out the angry soul’s tirade.

  There were too many dead in the Pure Land.

  Well, obviously.

  He’d been experimenting with his summoning jutsu tely, hoping to find useful souls t back. Unfortunately, tag a Konoha ninja was like finding a needle in a haystack.

  Over 99% of the souls he reached were either clueless civilians unaware they were dead or resentful individuals. Many were like the one just now—immediately hostile.

  So far, he’d found only two Konoha ninja souls: his father and...

  Link performed the jutsu again, this time with specifitent.

  After briefly greeting his father, he called out: "Nawaki, good evening."

  "Evening already? Time sure is strange here…" Nawaki’s thoughts responded, ptive.

  In the Pure Land, time didn’t seem to exist. For the dead, it felt like only a sed had passed between Link’s first a tact.

  Theoretically, this ability erfect for interrogation—souls couldn’t lie in this state. However, without a medium to pinpoint specific souls, finding the right one was an arduous process.

  Even standihe Memorial Stone raves didn’t seem to help. Link was still trying to figure out the logic behind it.

  "Did you need something?" Nawaki asked cautiously.

  Keeping his tone light, Link replied: "Have you ever thought about returning to the living world?"

  After all, if he wao assemble an army of revenants, he needed willing souls from the Pure Land.