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Chapter 34 - Cutest girl
🕑 Added 2025-05-11 14:42:21 +0000 UTC“That’s not fair,” I said, leaning a little closer, lowering my voice like we were conspiring. “They don’t clean up after me. I’m very tidy. Mostly they just… scold me for how I live. Which I think you’d be excellent at, by the way.”
“Scolding is not among my core responsibilities,” she shot back smoothly, arms folded, eyes forward toward the academy gate. “Though I suppose in your case, exceptions could be made.”
I dropped back onto the swing lazily, chuckling.
“I’m honored. Getting custom policies from a Hyūga caretaker... that’s rare treatment.”
She didn’t respond, but her chin angled just slightly toward me. Just enough. I caught the corner of her lip move inward for a second, like she was tempted to smile, but her clan had strict internal protocols against it.
“You must’ve practiced that poker face in the mirror.” I sighed. “Painstaking work. Full control, no blush, no flinch, no breaking eye contact...”
“Professionals don’t flinch,” Natsu said evenly.
I let a beat pass, then said, “But do they blush?”
A beat of silence hung just a little longer.
“Maybe you should go,” she said, voice still cool. “Wouldn’t want Hanabi thinking you’re here for her.”
“I’m not,” I said without missing a beat. “I was having a perfectly quiet swing existential crisis, and then this menacingly well-dressed maid appears and starts dissecting my life choices.”
Another silence.
And then, maybe the faintest exhale through her nose. The most elegant laugh a Hyūga could allow in public.
“Mmh, what was it again? Ah,“ I leaned in a bit again. “‘barely tolerating my presence.’ someone once said.”
“Exactly.”
“Mm.” I looked at her sidelong. “But you haven’t left.”
“And neither have you.”
“Touche.”
She glanced at the gates.
“I only stay,” she said, perfectly level, “because Hanabi-sama emerges in approximately three minutes.”
“I’m just here for the view.” I followed my words by turning to look at her.
She didn’t move, but in the fading light, her face caught a golden edge. The soft slant of her jaw, the gentle curve of her cheekbone, that impossibly smooth skin, porcelain-pale. Her mouth, composed and stayed closed, but her lips had that slight natural pout that always made me wonder how they’d feel wrapped around something less proper.
The apron framed her waist, neat and narrow, giving way to the quiet swell of hips hidden beneath the fabric. Nothing exaggerated. Just honest, understated curves that made restraint feel like a challenge.
Eyes sharp, pale, didn’t meet mine, but I saw the faintest shift in her lashes, like she’d registered the angle of my stare and refused to acknowledge it on principle.
So I added, more softly, “Stop me if I’m wrong—but I think ‘barely tolerating’ might be Hyūga dialect for... ‘slightly charmed.’”
“I will stop you,” Natsu said, adjusting her sleeves silently, like she hadn’t just put me on notice. “Before you venture even further into delusion.”
I leaned back, lips quirking. “Delusion, huh.”
She didn’t respond.
Yeah… fair. I guess it’s a little delusional.” I scraped a hand through my hair, sighed, and turned toward her, lowering my tone. “But, can you really blame me?” I said. “You talk like I’m imagining things. But Natsu… can you blame someone for slipping into fantasy when there’s a woman like you five feet away?”
She blinked once, eyes still fixed on the academy gate.
“You’re standing here with perfect posture, breathing through your nose like I’m an irritant, and you still manage to look like you walked out of a high-budget…. genjutsu.”
What the fuck am I saying? Does that…. even make sense?
Now she was still. Not stiff—just... quiet.
"And I think you're absolutely gorgeous. Like, actually beautiful. Even when you're saying things that probably qualify as harassment."
She turned to face me now. Fully. The gates behind her no longer mattered. She looked almost like she was... studying me back. Trying to figure out where the trick was. Where the game ended.
Her mouth opened slightly. Just a flicker—like she was going to say something.
Silence stretched.
“Eishin-sensei!!” Hanabi’s voice broke the air.
Natsu turned so fast it was almost funny. The posture-patrol returned instantly. She fussed with her sleeves. Shifted the hem of her apron. Checked something invisible on her hip, like her uniform had just gone off-kilter from the way I was looking at her. Or from the way we were standing there, eye to eye.
Her face settled into the soft, default smile she wore for most, except for one person.
“Hanabi-sama,” she said, bowing politely. “You’re earlier than I expected.”
By a minute?
“Look at that,” I said, standing. “How’s my favorite Hyuga?”
Natsu didn’t blink, but the tiniest twitch at the corner of her jaw gave her away.
Hanabi grinned, full teeth, almost tripping on her sandals. “I knew Natsu-san was exaggerating. She said you were loitering.”
“That’s slander,” I said, hand to my chest. “What did I ever do to deserve that kind of PR?”
“Exist,” Natsu murmured just low enough for me to hear.
I ignored her.
“Is it me, or you look taller?” I said to Hanabi, giving her a once-over. “Did they finally let you climb one of the trees or something?”
She puffed her cheeks. “No, I just grew.”
“I believe it. Give it a few years, and I’ll have to call you Lady Hanabi.”
She smirked like she already liked the sound of it before shaking her head. “I like the way you call me now.“
Behind her, Natsu went back to silent mode, adjusting Hanabi’s satchel like the world hadn’t just tilted for her a few minutes ago.
The little Hyuga wore a short, flowing, flame-patterned kimono in warm ochre and burnt orange tones. The hem and sleeves were decorated with a bold flame motif, which I know symbolic of the Will of Fire. Her long, dark hair fell in perfect symmetry down her back, parted slightly over one eye, and tied in twin side braids with small pink ribbons.
“Actually,” I smiled, “I came to visit the Academy one last time. You know… before I get dragged back into ‘real’ missions.”
Her smile dropped a little. “You’re leaving?”
“I mean... not permanently.” I tried to reassure her; I want my favorite girl to always be smiling. “Just back on rotation. Gotta get stabbed in less metaphorical ways again.”
“That’s dumb.” Hanabi looked down. “You should just stay. You're a better teacher than most of the ones they have.”
I reached out and ruffled her hair, she ducked away half a second too late. “Don’t get soft on me. Next time we meet, you’re going to be the one lecturing me, right?”
She crossed her arms, but the pout was halfway to a grin.
Natsu stood quietly at her side, gaze forward again like a proper retainer—but her eyes slid to me once more. I met them briefly.
I glanced at Hanabi again, still beaming, and the opportunity practically begged to be spoken.
“You know…” I started casually, brushing invisible dust off my sleeve. “If you ever wanted to keep training, really training, outside of Academy hours…”
Hanabi blinked up at me, eyes alight with suspicion — the good kind. The curious kind.
“…I wouldn’t mind taking you as my student.”
She gawked.
“I’ll be gone a lot, yeah.” I scratched my neck. “Missions’ll keep me up to my neck in bullshit, but if you don’t mind things being a little chaotic—or creative—I’d be happy to work with the cutest girl in all of Konoha.”
Hanabi's jaw dropped. Then she exploded.
“YES!—I mean—I—YES!!” She jumped, clapped her hands together cutely, actually bounced off the floor like she couldn’t contain the energy. “Really?! You mean it?! You’re not joking?! You said it like it was real!!”
“It is real,” I said, laughing at her volume alone. It couldn’t be helped.
Her arms flinched up as if she were about to tackle me—but then she froze mid-hug, tense like her inner Hyūga had just slapped her across the face with a rolled-up scroll. She cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, and folded her hands in front of her in sudden, composed propriety.
“I would be honored to be your student, sensei,” she said, voice a little too formal, cheeks red. “And I am not just cute, I’m also one of the most promising kunoichi in my entire year.”
I raised my eyebrows, amused.
“Is that so.”
She nodded furiously.
“Well, in that case, I’m honored to be your sensei.”
It was hard to say who was devouring the moment more—her, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, or me, soaking in the dual satisfaction of getting the sweetest student in Konoha and semi-legitimate access to her uptight, violently attractive bodyguard.
“Hanabi-sama,” came Natsu’s voice—smooth and rehearsed, but tight at the edges. “The Hyūga Clan has no shortage of qualified instructors. I’m sure—”
“I don’t want just anyone,” Hanabi said, cutting her off, voice sharpened with that baby nobility she didn’t even know she was swinging yet. “They’re not you. I mean—they’re not him! My—my sensei—”
Natsu’s mouth twitched slightly, as though the word had pained her on its way out.
She sighed quietly, adjusted her inner poise like it was silk on her shoulders. “This sort of arrangement,” she said carefully, “would require the approval of Hiashi-sama. Especially if it involves instruction outside official training hours.”
Hanabi made a face like she’d just remembered politics existed. She was a smart one.
I let that moment breathe for a second, watching Hanabi be torn between raw enthusiasm and the centuries’ worth of weight hung around her tiny neck.
“I’m not saying we file a blood contract,” I murmured, stepping in with just enough lightness to keep her from clamping down completely. “Let’s keep it simple. You and me, casually training when we can. Sharing ideas. Growing stronger. Quietly ignoring the bureaucratic doom cloud until it notices us.”
Hanabi smiled again, subdued but glowing.
Natsu... didn’t. I met her neutral gaze again, smiled once, softly, respectfully.
I genuinely loved teaching Hanabi. And if I got the go-ahead to break that perfect little maid’s perfectly guarded posture somewhere along the road… well, I wouldn’t complain.
Natsu needed... a different kind of education.
“Hanabi-sama,” Natsu said. “It's time to head home.”
Hanabi almost argued, but then her shoulders slumped, and she looked at me instead.
“Goodbye, Sensei.” She bowed, the motion clean and graceful. “I’ll talk to my father tonight.”
I nodded.
“I can’t wait to start teaching you,”
She looked up at me one last time, then crossed the distance in a heartbeat and hugged me. It only lasted a second. She pulled back immediately, as if her ribs had clicked back into place.
She turned on her heel, her sandals padding off across the dirt in dainty, martial rhythm.
Natsu lingered just long enough.
Long enough to glare—in that acid-soft way she did everything. The kind of look that tried to strip you bone-first before delivering a polite farewell.
It made my blood pump.
She turned after her charge, apron swishing with cold elegance.
“She come a long way, huh,“ I muttered, and ran my fingers through my hair.
Hanabi hadn’t always been like this.
At first, she’d been pushy, prickly, silent. A mirror of her older sister, just cracked and angrier and far from being shy. I remember those first few weeks—she barely spoke unless called on, gave bruising corrections to her peers when paired up, and then went home without a word, like her whole life was a punishment she wasn’t allowed to question.
I’d seen what the Hyūga did to themselves—from the inside, it looked like inherited pride. From the outside? It looked like emotional slavery dressed up in ivory robes and ceremony.
It took more than effort to pull Hanabi out of that. A kind of playfulness that never felt like condescension. I teased. I challenged. I let her win when it counted and beat her hard when it didn’t. I got her to talk.
And that first real smile, that crooked, face-lighting grin that looked like it’d been hiding in her bones for years…….
That was one of the few good deeds I’d actually kept a place in my heart for.
Right there. Tucked among the ghosts and ego and dirt.
Hanabi’s bright smile lived there.
