After realizing that something filthy had latched onto him, Ryouma temporarily shut down his chakra cloak.
He raised his left hand and, sure enough, there was a diamond-shaped mark glaring clearly in the center of his palm.
He had absolutely no interest in this thing. Even if this Kāma had already lost its activity, even if it were completely thawed and still wouldn't allow Isshiki to resurrect with his soul intact, it made no difference.
Because in essence, Kāma was a form of extremely compressed bodily data. The so-called thawing process was actually replacing the host's cells, transforming them into a physique compatible with the original owner of the Kāma. Knowing this, he would never allow something like this to remain on his body.
No other reason. It was simply too revolting.
With that thought, Ryouma used the Rikugan. After observing the Kāma mark for a few seconds, he flipped his other wrist, gripping a Flying Thunder God kunai in reverse, and immediately activated his Ratio Technique and brought it down.
The kunai's blade slashed swiftly across his palm.
Zzz, zzzz!
A sound like an old television stuttering echoed from Ryouma's body.
Black, tattoo-like patterns surfaced, their edges emitting a crimson glow, before dissipating into the air like a curse mark being exorcised.
After cleaning off the mark from his body, he checked the state of the sealed magatama of Super Saiyan Mode 2. Four remained.
This battle could be called the hardest fight he had faced since reincarnating into this world.
If not for the repeated damage multipliers from Revenge Counter, after dealing with Jigen's Kāma Stage Two, he would still have had to face Isshiki's true body head-on, like fighting a final boss. Although Ryouma was confident that victory would ultimately still be his, with more variables in play, whether he could completely kill Isshiki was far from guaranteed.
After all, if both sides still had the leeway to use space-time abilities, the most likely outcome would have been a mutual withdrawal. How could that compare to now, where Ryouma took everything, winner takes all, claiming every last thing Isshiki had?
He briefly tallied up the spoils.
A Kokugan housing multiple divine techniques, a high-purity Byakugan, and all the information in Isshiki's brain regarding the Ten-Tails juvenile and the main Ōtsutsuki clan.
It was a huge haul.
Smiling with satisfaction, Ryouma unfurled a sealing scroll, stored Isshiki's corpse inside, and then began thinking about how to deal with the monster still lying at his feet, prostrated as if on a pilgrimage.
To be honest, he had only created it on a whim, planning to kick it away once he was done using it.
He just hadn't expected Isshiki to be so indiscriminate that he would even carve a Kāma onto this thing.
Under these circumstances, the monster could no longer be treated as disposable fodder. At the very least, as the only being in the shinobi world currently possessing a Kāma mark, it could be considered above Kage-level.
Perhaps sensing the gaze, the monster spread its tentacles all over its body, waving them about excitedly.
"ꇮꈊꈦꍔꍰꎇꎞꎹ!"
"I'm not. Don't talk nonsense. And stop jumping around in front of me."
Ryouma shot it a cold, sideways glance. The monster immediately quieted down. The tentacles that had been writhing wildly all recoiled as if electrocuted, quickly retracting into its body and revealing its original orange sea snake form.
Looking at the diamond-shaped Kāma mark on its head, Ryouma decided to hand it over to Orochimaru for research first.
If the technique could be restored, he wouldn't mind learning it himself.
After all, disliking someone else's bodily data was one thing, but being able to compress his own bodily data into a Kāma was another matter entirely.
He reached out and patted the monster's triangular head, leaving his Flying Thunder God mark on it.
"Stay here for now. I'll call for you when I have time."
After leaving that order behind, Ryouma sensed the coordinate within Konoha and vanished from the spot in an instant.
---
Inside Konoha, because of the time difference, it was still four in the morning.
Since this time there was no transcription via Ōtoshi, after the battle ended Ryouma could only come personally to find Shiori to recover his condition. Considering that there was still plenty of time, he first went back to his own house.
Next to the Flying Thunder God kunai in the corner of the living room, space distorted slightly, and his figure appeared.
Without deliberately softening his footsteps, he walked slowly to the door of his room. A quick scan with the Rikugan confirmed that Hidan was still sleeping soundly in the next room.
"And I was counting on you to watch the house."
He shook his head, deciding that once things in Takumi Village were settled, he'd find some time to put Hidan through extra training. He needed to learn that even with an immortal body, a ninja could never afford to let down their vigilance toward their surroundings.
Opening the door, Ryouma took off the battle-damaged clothes riddled with holes and pulled out a fresh set from the wardrobe to put on.
---
Uchiha clan compound.
Shiori, as usual, was sleeping soundly on her bed in her room.
She had always been like this, strictly adhering to the training plan she set for herself every day.
Before washing up at night, she would drink a glass of fruit juice she prepared herself, then do twenty minutes of light, relaxing exercises to warm up before sleeping, never leaving fatigue for the next day. But that didn't mean she relaxed her vigilance as a kunoichi while asleep.
So when Ryouma flashed into her room beside the worktable where her ninja tools were placed, a cold, sharp object was already pressed against his lower back.
Right. This was the level of alertness a shinobi should have.
That thought flashed through Ryouma's mind, and he immediately reacted, raising his hands in surrender.
"Shiori. It's me."
"Of course I know it's you. Otherwise, the position that kunai is aimed at would be your heart."
Shiori's voice sounded from behind Ryouma's neck, followed by the crisp click of the kunai being sheathed and set back on the table.
Ryouma knew full well that sneaking into someone's room like this was rude. After giving an awkward laugh, he slowly turned around.
By then, Shiori had already stepped back a few paces and was sitting upright on the edge of the bed. Her white cotton pajamas shimmered faintly under the hazy moonlight filtering through the window curtain.
Just as Ryouma's not-so-honest gaze began to drift downward, she spoke softly, "So then, would you care to explain what business you have with me?"
"Oh, oh!"
Ryouma suddenly snapped his head up, his previously wandering gaze instantly sharpening.
"Ahem. Well, it's like this. I ran into an enemy over in Takumi Village..."
"Wait."
Shiori suddenly spoke up, cutting off Ryouma just as he was about to continue. She frowned slightly.
"You said you went to Takumi Village?"
"Yeah."
Ryouma nodded, wanting to move past the topic as quickly as possible.
"Orochimaru summoned me a few days ago, but that's not the important part."
Shiori raised a hand to stop him. "Alright, no need to go on. I more or less know what happened."
"Huh?"
Ryouma had already been planning how to describe his battle with an alien, but now the words were stuck in his throat, leaving him feeling oddly frustrated.
Shiori lifted her right hand and pointed at her eyes as she explained, "About what happened over there in Takumi Village, my future self already told me everything."
"Is that so... Time-type abilities are impressive," Ryouma said. He pulled over a chair, sat down sideways, and draped one arm over the backrest.
Seeing his rare moment of being at a loss, Shiori raised her brows, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes.
She sniffed lightly and said on purpose, "Huh? Why does it smell kind of sour? I don't remember mixing any sour fruit juice today."
"Since you already know everything, could you use Ōtoshi to help me recover?"
Ryouma urged, clearly unwilling to dwell on the subject.
"Such an impatient man."
Shiori snorted softly, though the corners of her mouth couldn't help but lift. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the once-clear pupils had transformed into Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan filled with intricate patterns.
The gorgeous designs rotated faintly. As her ocular power was rapidly consumed, Ryouma's entire body quickly began to distort, countless pixel-like blocks of varying colors wildly rearranging themselves.
From a physics standpoint, time should not be an inherent property of reality. Like certain invented formulas, it is merely a concept created to make the world easier to calculate and understand.
But in the shinobi world, that rule clearly did not apply.
His body was as if someone had pressed a rewind button, rapidly rolling back toward its state from several hours earlier at accelerated speed. That was, until he saw on the system panel that the two abnormal status effects belonging to Super Saiyan Mode 2 and Yomi no Tsurugi had been erased.
"That's enough."
His words were like a switch. Shiori immediately stopped channeling her ocular power.
Time resumed its normal flow around Ryouma, and everything returned to calm.
"Thank you, Shiori."
Shiori frowned slightly, a hint of reproach in her eyes. "You don't need to say things like that between us."
"Fair is fair." Ryouma shook his head seriously. "Even if we get married someday, I'll still say thank you when it's due. In a relationship, no one's effort should be taken for granted."
"You really know how to say pretty things. Fine, have it your way."
Shiori's fair cheeks flushed faintly red. She pressed her lips together and, pretending to be helpless, turned her gaze aside.
At that moment, a strand of long hair quietly slipped from behind her back to rest against her chest.
Ryouma's gaze was unconsciously drawn to that lock of hair, and along its path, inevitably settled on the collarbone beside it. Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing the two of them and outlining an ambiguous silhouette.
In the girl's room, the quietly spreading emotions made it feel as though they had returned to the festival in Kumo.
Ryouma's Adam's apple bobbed. He felt that at a moment like this, he should probably say something.
"Um, Shiori..."
"By the way, you..."
Hearing Shiori speak at the same time, he wasn't sure whether to be happy about their tacit understanding or regretful about the atmosphere just now.
Interrupted, Shiori paused. Seeing that Ryouma didn't seem inclined to speak first, she cleared her throat.
"Ahem... I wanted to ask, do you like twin ponytails as a hairstyle?"
"Huh?"
Ryouma never expected the topic to suddenly veer in this direction, and for a moment his mind failed to catch up.
"Twin ponytails, uh, something like this, I guess."
As Shiori spoke softly, she slowly reached both hands behind her head, gently parting her hair.
Then, rather clumsily, she gathered the hair on both sides and held it up near her ears, mimicking twin ponytails.
"Mm..."
Watching Shiori fumble awkwardly with her hair, Ryouma felt as if his heart had been struck dead-on by an arrow of love, his heartbeat instantly speeding up.
"Huh? Does it not look good?"
Shiori tilted her head slightly.
"How could that be?"
Ryouma snapped back to his senses and immediately raised both thumbs. Just as he was about to continue praising her, a sudden noise came from outside the door.
Thump, thump.
"Shiori? Is there someone in your room?"
Homura stood outside his daughter's bedroom door, looking a bit tense.
He usually liked to drink until slightly tipsy before going to bed, and tonight that habit had cost him. Under normal circumstances, with his level of strength, he should have noticed the conversation coming from his daughter's room much earlier.
Inside the room, the ambiguous atmosphere between the two came to an abrupt halt.
Shiori narrowed her eyes dangerously, glanced toward the door, and replied coldly, "I think you've had too much to drink again and are hallucinating. Do you want me to rewind things a bit to sober you up?"
"Uh, no, no. As long as you're fine, that's all that matters. Hahaha..."
Homura scratched his head awkwardly and turned to head toward the bathroom. Since he was already up, he might as well do something.
Still, as he walked away, he couldn't help muttering to himself, "That's not right... I definitely heard Ryouma's voice just now."
---
Back in the room, hearing Homura's footsteps fade into the distance, Ryouma let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Seeing his expression, Shiori couldn't help teasing him.
"What's with that look? Are you afraid your secret might get exposed?"
"Don't talk nonsense. I snuck into your room for a legitimate reason, okay?"
"Oh? Then who was it just now secretly staring at my chest?"
"That was open and honest appreciation of beautiful things. And is it wrong to look at my girlfriend?"
Shiori shot Ryouma an exasperated glance. Ever since the Kumo incident, she felt he'd been getting more and more shameless with her. Placing her hands down for support, she lightly stood up from the edge of the bed.
Then, under Ryouma's puzzled gaze, she calmly began unfastening the buttons of her clothes as if no one else were there.
Ryouma's eyes widened instantly. He reflexively raised both hands to cover his face, but almost immediately, he spread two fingers apart at eye level, peeking through the gap.
"Um, Shiori... I mean, sure, we're both adults, but... isn't this progressing a little too fast...?"
"What are you thinking?"
Shiori said, her back to him, lifting a hand to smooth down some hair that was sticking up at the top of her head.
"Go to my wardrobe and bring me the black outfit on the top shelf. I'm going to Takumi Village too."