Not long after, Ryuma returned to his home.
It was a house that wasn't particularly large or small—along with the front yard, the total area came to about a hundred square meters.
The yard had quite a few flowers and plants, but because no one had maintained or pruned them for a long time, most of the branches had already grown out of their flowerbeds, leaving only the roots in place.
On both sides of the path, wild grass grew rampant, with cockroaches and crickets nesting there.
The house, already lacking any sign of life, looked even more desolate and out of place compared to its surroundings.
But soon, this place would likely be revitalized.
Because Ryuma had rented it out to a local merchant. In the future, it would become a warehouse.
As for what it would eventually be turned into, or what his parents—those who once called this place their love nest—would think of it becoming a storage space, Ryuma had no interest in finding out.
He only knew one thing—he needed money. Not an excessive amount, but enough.
As a shinobi whose foundation lay in his body, who sought to surpass physical limits, becoming stronger wasn't something that could be achieved with just hard work and perseverance.
He also needed external supplements to nourish his body, to allow his cells to absorb more energy, so as to increase his chakra reserves.
These things couldn't be obtained with just the meager monthly stipends from the village.
Even though Konoha held the most resources and the best geographic location among the Five Great Ninja Villages, its leadership was composed of many clans and factions.
Their goodwill might be enough to keep orphaned children from starving to death—but only just that.
Expecting them to provide everything one needed, even for training? Unrealistic.
So Ryuma had to find his own way. Hunting in the forest was one method, renting out his parents' house was another.
He was still young and his body hadn't fully matured yet. So, a small deer could easily keep him fed for two to three days.
But people grow. As his physique strengthened, a single deer would go from enough for two or three days to a day's worth, then to just one meal, and eventually not even that.
Renting out the house and saving the money for future use was far better than wasting the training time by hunting in the forest.
It was currently the transition between spring and summer, and the forest was full of prey.
But when autumn and winter arrived, finding anything would be much harder, costing him valuable time.
And his time wasn't yet abundant enough to waste on such things.
Moreover, Ryuma didn't like this place much to begin with.
People around treated him like a criminal, avoiding him like the plague. Rather than endure their constant cold stares and contempt.
He'd rather build a little shack near his training grounds.
….
Night fell.
After cleaning the meat he brought back, Ryuma threw it all into one big stew.
He then sat cross-legged nearby, controlling his chakra, not wasting even a single chance to improve himself.
Once the stew was ready and the aroma began to waft through the air, the nearby mongoose started twitching and writhing like it was having a seizure.
The food was something it could eat, but Ryuma wasn't so generous.
So every time Ryuma ate, it was a sort of torture for the little guy.
Of course, Ryuma didn't consider himself stingy—he never threw away the animal intestines and organs he cleaned out. Those were always saved for the mongoose.
But what was truly baffling was that this mongoose was bizarre—it refused to eat anything raw.
It had to have the organs dipped in the hot pot first, just like eating at a hotpot restaurant.
Sometimes, it demanded frying, braising, even steaming… It was as if it had forgotten it was a mongoose.
After Ryuma finished his meal and returned to his room to train, the mongoose stopped its spasms, stood up straight, dragged a stool over, walked on two legs, held chopsticks in one paw and a sauce dish in the other, and started eating.
Every now and then, it would even mutter to itself.
"The intestines weren't cleaned, still got poop in it, not good…"
Ryuma wasn't surprised at all. Calmly, he just closed the door.
…
Elsewhere, at the Hyuga Clan compound.
After being scolded by her father for a long time upon returning home, Hanabi dove straight into her bed and buried her head in the blankets.
She didn't care about the scolding or the warnings. Her mind was filled with the image of the boy who saved her and brought her home.
Every time she recalled Ryuma's indifferent expression, she felt like something was blocking her chest, making it hard to breathe.
"Hanabi, what's wrong with you? You were so spaced out during dinner, even when Father was talking to you…"
A soft girl's voice suddenly came from beside her.
Hanabi tugged at the blanket with both hands, revealing her small head. She knew exactly who it was—her twin sister, Hyuga Hinata.
After hesitating a little, Hanabi began recounting everything that had happened not long ago.
She wanted to vent, to release that painful emotion inside her.
"Nee-chan… do all kids outside act like him?"
After speaking, Hanabi turned to look at her sister.
A girl her age, with the same eyes—but with short hair, unlike Hanabi's long hair.
Hinata also had thick bangs across her forehead, while Hanabi's hair parted on both sides, leaving only a small strand that slid down the middle of her forehead to her lips, making her white eyes stand out all the more.
"No, they're not…" Hinata blurted out in a flustered tone, then quickly ducked back under the covers, "The kids I've met… they're not like that at all…"
She thought back to last winter, to the boy with spiky blond hair and whisker-like marks on his cheeks—Uzumaki Naruto.
Warm, radiant, and always smiling like the sun itself—he made people feel at ease.
Hanabi didn't really understand. She turned to stare at the ceiling, and once again, Ryuma's departing figure replayed in her mind, along with that cold, emotionless sentence.
"I don't need friends…"
Was that really true?
In the silent night at the Hyuga clan compound, Hanabi could even hear the chirping of insects and birds outside.
Because—she couldn't sleep.