Ayato's first thought upon seeing Hinata's little blood mark was Hidan. Who else would draw a child's blood? Among the known shinobi, there were only two who had a taste for blood: Orochimaru, and Hidan.
Orochimaru wanted kekkei genkai and the Uchiha's Sharingan, not the Hyūga; so that left Hidan as the likelier culprit.
Strangers entering the village would trip the barrier and the intelligence division would notice, but Obito's Kamui could bypass Konoha's jutsu. If Hidan had indeed nicked Hinata for blood, it was probably a little scheme by someone like Obito—something meant to limit or threaten Ayato's movements.
Still, Ayato was reckless and playful, yes—but he wasn't stupid. He only played when he could control the board. He thought things through. If Hinata was taken as a hostage, well… he could handle that too. He'd even thought through the worst-case scenario: Hinata's death could be reversed if he ever had to. Between resurrection jutsu and ocular power, Ayato kept his options open. Nothing would threaten him for long.
Hinata blinked shyly and peered up at Ayato. "A-Ayato… are you… okay?"
"Nothing," Ayato replied with a thumb tracing the tiny dark-red dot on her hand. A sliver of pale-blue chakra flowed from his fingertips and the mark faded. "You were cute today," he added, smiling as if that explanation were enough.
Hinata's face pinked; she fidgeted with her fingers and whispered, "N-no… I'm not…"
Ayato ruffled her cheek. "Seeing a timid little Hinata like this makes me want to tease you," he said, voice deliberately light. The tone made Hinata squeal and back away, mortified. "I—I'm still small," she stammered.
He watched her scurry off toward Kurenai and nodded to himself. Little Hinata had grown—she didn't faint at his teasing like she used to. That meant progress. He allowed himself a brief, smug satisfaction. Raising a kid into something stronger—there was a weird pleasure in that.
Sakura muttered, "What a scumbag." She wasn't wrong—Ayato's attitude was shameless.
Across the village, Kurenai was sitting on a bench, hands clasped and trembling, hair a little messy, mascara smudging from the tears she'd refused to let show in public. She had shoved everyone away; she didn't want her students to see her cry. Pride, after all, had standards.
"If Ayato's Mei Terumi's boyfriend…" she whispered, her lips tight. "If I'd only known sooner…" Her chest tightened with a sour ache. She'd been so mad earlier—protective, furious—and now the thought that Ayato belonged to someone else cut deep.
Asuma appeared on a nearby tree trunk, lighting a cigarette, and offered a man-to-man sincerity that had long since been his strength. "I've known Ayato since we were kids," he said. "He's never been in love that I've seen. He's reckless, sure, but he's reliable. If you care about him, talk to him. Ask. Don't leave things to rumors."
Asuma's admission carried the weight of years: he'd loved Kurenai for a long time and had finally stopped chasing her. If she could be happy—even if it hurt him—then that was enough.
Ayato materialized beside Asuma with a deceptively casual pose, two fingers clamped around a candy like a cigarette. He mimicked Asuma's lean and exhaled imaginary smoke with a showman's flair.
Kurenai's throat tightened as she heard his voice; she nearly called his name, then bit her lip to hold it down. The sight of his easy grin made something ache inside her. She blinked it away.
Asuma was about to leave for the Hokage office—there were reports to give, and he wanted to warn them about Orochimaru—when Ayato tossed him a piece of information like a party favor: "Orochimaru's going to show up at the Chūnin Exams. He and the Third are going to settle something."
Asuma's face went white. "Orochimaru? Tomorrow? Are you sure?"
"Could be gossip," Ayato said, shrugging. "Tell the Third yourself. Or don't. Up to you."
Asuma ground his cigarette out and moved quickly toward the Hokage tower. The news hit Kurenai. Orochimaru at the exams—if true—meant trouble.
Kurenai muttered, reading the mood around her. Ayato sat down beside her and offered a lopsided apology for the spectacle earlier. "Don't cry, Kurenai. Rumors are rumors."
She frowned and shoved him away a little. "Go find your girlfriend!" she snapped, voice shaky.
Ayato chewed the candy, then split it and popped half into her mouth. "There," he said, then watched her melt into a blush and flare up again. "Honestly, you try so hard to be dignified. Crying in public is… pathetic."
She pushed him—full force—but he didn't budge. "I'm not pathetic!" she cried.
He cocked an eyebrow and feigned exasperation. "Women are so complicated," he said. "If something's a misunderstanding, just let it clear itself. I don't want to deal with this drama."
"Kurenai, it's not just drama!" she sobbed. "You kissed me—why would you—?"
Before she could finish, Ayato grabbed a fistful of her hair and kissed her. It was sudden and brief—more of a grab than a tender moment. Kurenai froze, then stiffened as confusion and something tender and raw fluttered through her chest. Her cheeks went scarlet and her whole body trembled.
When he let go, she gasped and stared at him, stunned. "You—are you insane?" she said, voice a mix of fury and fluster. "You have a girlfriend and you—"
Ayato smirked. "One thing about women—if I want something, I'll take it. I don't do romance. I do control." He shrugged. "Call me a jerk, call me a scoundrel. I'll teach you how to read 'misunderstanding' by hand, if you want."
Kurenai's face burned. "So that's it? You just… play with people's hearts?"
Ayato's grin widened, maddeningly carefree. "I don't want a relationship. I want what I want. If a woman resists, I'll break her like a stubborn toy until she doesn't. That's how I get what I want."
Kurenai pushed at him again, pushing until her hands fell on his chest, then he leaned in and said, almost sweetly, "I'll take advantage when I want to. Even if you cry. Even if you fight me."
Her face crumpled—half angry, half wounded. "You—filthy—" she snapped, releasing his hand and storming off.
Ayato watched her go with a half-bored shrug. "Women bite people a lot," he muttered, glancing at the faint bite marks on his palm and rolling his eyes. "Annoying, but kind of flattering."
Sakura scowled and summed it up: "Gross."
Ayato leaned back as Hinata came up to him quietly, small and timid. "Ayato—" she murmured. He ruffled her hair. He noticed the small red dot again and frowned—something still nagged at him. He didn't like loose ends.
"Be ready for the exam tomorrow," he said to the kids, altogether business-like again. "And don't get in my way."
Then he was gone—a streak of blue lightning and mischief—leaving a mess of tangled feelings in his wake and a whole village with a new rumor to chew on.
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