Yuhi Shinku was supposed to be halfway out the door by now.
He'd just returned to Konoha for one reason: report to the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen.
The situation on the front lines was growing tense—Tsunade and the rest of the main forces were already engaging Hanzō the Salamander, and the war was hanging on a thread thinner than Guy's eyebrows.
In short, this was not the time for family visits or unexpected guests.
But as Shinku buckled his shin guards and reached for his flak jacket—
"Dad, I'm home!"
The front door creaked open, followed by the voice of his daughter, sweet as ever.
Shinku paused.
Kurenai's back early… strange timing.
Then came a second voice.
A much more cursed one.
"Uncle Yuhi Shinku! Long time no see!"
Shinku froze.
That voice. That casual, borderline smug tone.
It can't be…
The brat who had emptied his wallet with one meal, smiled while doing it, and had the nerve to say, "I'll pay you back once I become Hokage."
Guts.
Before he could move, a loud shriek erupted from the entryway.
"I told you to WAIT OUTSIDE—ugh! Your shoes! You absolute mud goblin!"
Shinku bolted downstairs like the house was on fire.
He reached the living room to find Guts… helping himself to water like it was his house.
"Uncle, still looking fierce as always."
"You little—" Shinku's eyebrow twitched.
"SHOES!!" Kurenai yelled again, pointing furiously at the swamp-soaked sandals Guts had casually worn into the house.
"Oh," Guts blinked. "Right."
And then, with all the grace of a sleepy bear, he kicked off his filthy sandals… and slipped his feet directly into a pair of adorable white rabbit slippers.
"AHHHHH!! NOT THOSE!!"
Kurenai looked like she'd just witnessed a war crime.
"Those are MINE! My favorite pair!!"
"I don't see your name on them," Guts replied, looking down at the bunnies.
"Besides, they're comfy."
"Use my dad's slippers, you maniac!"
Guts gave a side glance at Shinku's leather-and-steel shinobi sandals.
"…Yeah, no thanks. I don't want to catch veteran trauma."
"ENOUGH!" Shinku's voice finally cut through the chaos.
"Both of you! I've got a war to deal with and I'm stuck in a cartoon episode!"
He turned to Guts, half-expecting some ridiculous request involving food or money.
"So? What do you want?"
Guts took a deep breath, dropping the antics.
"I came to ask for your help. I want access to the Konoha indoor training grounds—and I need a Jōnin to vouch for me."
That… was unexpected.
Shinku blinked.
Of all the nonsense he'd expected from this kid, this wasn't on the list.
The indoor training grounds weren't a playground. They were high-grade facilities usually used during Chūnin Exams—chakra control pads, strength simulators, the whole deal.
But only Genin and above could use them.
And Guts?
He wasn't even officially registered.
"Please," Guts added, his tone more serious now than it had ever been.
Even Kurenai paused. She'd never seen him this earnest.
Shinku rubbed his beard. There was something different about the boy this time.
"…Alright," he finally said. "I'll write up the application. You'll have to submit it yourself, though."
"Thanks, Uncle," Guts said with a rare, genuine nod.
"Wait! I want to use it too!" Kurenai suddenly threw her hand up.
Both men turned to her in unison.
"…You don't even train," Guts muttered under his breath.
"I HEARD THAT!"
"You?"
Yuhi Shinku paused, pen hovering mid-signature, glancing suspiciously at his daughter.
He narrowed his eyes like a seasoned detective piecing together a puzzle. She wasn't interested in the training ground. Not really.
No, this had the faint smell of teenage hormones.
But he said nothing.
With a resigned sigh, he finished signing the form and handed it over.
"Alright then. Kurenai, Guts—I've got a mission to handle. I'm heading out."
"Be careful, Dad," Kurenai said with genuine concern.
"Don't worry, Uncle," Guts chimed in cheerfully, flashing a thumbs-up in a pose straight out of the Might Guy family album.
"You don't look like the kind of guy who dies easily."
Yuhi Shinku's eye twitched so hard it probably burned a calorie.What kind of cursed farewell was that supposed to be?!
Then, like a trap being sprung, Shinku suddenly turned to his daughter.
"Kurenai… isn't that kind of stuff only appropriate after you're, say, sixteen?"
The room fell silent.
"…W-What 'kind of stuff'?!" Kurenai's face turned redder than a Sharingan on high alert. Her voice shot up an octave.
"We're not like that!!"
Guts raised both hands in surrender, clearly used to being blamed for things he didn't understand.
Probably because, most of the time, he did deserve it.
This is what I get for asking a favor, huh? Death flags and love accusations...
Shinku chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He knew his daughter too well. That kind of overreaction only happened when there was just enough truth to be dangerous.
He smiled faintly as he turned and vanished with a flicker of chakra.
They're just like us, back then…
The second he was gone, Kurenai turned on Guts like a mini storm cloud with pigtails.
"Don't get any ideas, got it?! If you so much as think about it, I'll—I'll—!"
She paused mid-threat. A painful realization crossed her face.
Right. She couldn't beat him in a fight.
Guts gave her a lazy grin, stretching like he had all the time in the world.
"Sure. Wouldn't dream of it."
"You're enjoying this," she muttered.
"A little," he admitted.
Kurenai fumed, stomping off in her bunny slippers like an angry princess. Meanwhile, Guts shrugged, utterly unbothered.
She'll be a real beauty in ten years, he thought, nodding to himself. Not that it matters. I've got zero time for love right now.
And even if I did...
His mind drifted.
Tsunade, though… now that's a woman who could probably break every bone in my body and charge me for it. Worth it.
He scratched his head and sighed.
Training grounds first. Flirting with death later.
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