The next morning, for once, Shin-chan got up on his own without waiting for Misae to nag him.
"Mom, is breakfast ready yet?"
Misae turned around in the kitchen and glanced at him, surprised. "Well, that's new. Did the sun rise in the west today? You're up this early?"
"I've got school," Shin-chan replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Misae's mouth twitched.
This kid usually had to be dragged out of bed after being called over and over. But today, not only had he gotten up by himself, he was even rushing breakfast.
What she didn't know was this—
Shin-chan only had one thing on his mind right now: get to school early, see Kakashi early, and tell him about last night as soon as possible.
He scarfed down breakfast in a hurry, grabbed his school bag, and dashed for the door.
"I'm heading out!"
"Be careful on the way, and don't forget to invite Kakashi."
"I knowww!"
His voice drifted back from the distance, but he was already gone.
When Shin-chan arrived at school, there were still only a few people in the classroom.
Kakashi's seat was empty.
Shin-chan walked over, sat down in Kakashi's seat, propped his chin on his hands, and waited.
After waiting for a while, he stood up and went to the door to look outside.
Then after looking for a while, he went back and sat down again.
After repeating this a few times, a silver-haired head finally appeared in the doorway.
"Kakashi!"
Shin-chan rushed over so fast he almost crashed straight into him.
Kakashi took a step back and looked at him. "What?"
Shin-chan got straight to the point. "Come eat dinner at my house today after school."
Kakashi froze for a second. Looking into Shin-chan's bright, sparkling eyes, a few scenes from last night suddenly flashed through his mind.
One was the backs of those three figures slowly walking away together, wrapped in dim yellow lamplight.
Another was himself sitting alone in the dark house, staring at the moon outside.
Kakashi was silent for a moment.
"Can I?"
"Of course you can." Shin-chan nodded. "My mom said she's making lots of good stuff—shrimp tempura, braised pork, miso soup, and hamburger steak."
As Kakashi listened to that string of dishes, the corner of his mouth moved a little, though it was hard to tell whether he was about to smile or something else.
This guy in front of him was inviting him to his home—to that noisy, lively home full of people.
Kakashi stood there quietly for a while, then nodded.
"Okay."
A huge smile immediately broke across Shin-chan's face. "Great. Then after school, we'll go back together."
Kakashi looked at him and suddenly felt like today's sunlight was a little warmer than yesterday's.
The morning classes passed uneventfully.
Teacher Ibuki stood at the front lecturing them on the use of ninja tools. Down below, the children were a mixed mess—some listening seriously, some dozing off, and some secretly passing notes under their desks.
Shin-chan lay sprawled over his desk, gazing blankly out the window.
The sunlight streaming in was warm and sleepy.
He finally made it to break, stood up from his seat, stretched, and drifted lazily out of the classroom.
There was barely anyone in the hallway. Sunlight slanted through the windows, scattering patches of light across the floor.
Shin-chan stepped through those bright patches one by one. As he came back from the bathroom, he suddenly heard voices around the corner ahead.
"So, you think you're pretty capable, huh?"
"..."
"Not talking? We all saw your match yesterday. You lost to a nobody, and you still have the nerve to come to school?"
Shin-chan stopped walking.
"You've completely disgraced the Hyuga clan."
"Exactly. You couldn't even beat some random brat no one's ever heard of."
"If it weren't for you, the Hyuga clan wouldn't be getting laughed at."
Shin-chan slowly walked to the corner and peeked around it.
A few older students had surrounded a much smaller figure.
The child had his back against the wall, head lowered, hands clenched into fists, saying nothing.
It was Hyuga Shota.
The one in front looked a little taller than the others, and his eyes were white too. He was shoving Hyuga Shota around.
"Well? Say something. Cat got your tongue?"
Shota got shoved back a step, his back thudding dully against the wall.
"I..."
"What 'I'?" The boy leaned closer. "You lost to a commoner. What do you even have to say for yourself? You've thrown the Hyuga clan's pride in the dirt."
The others beside him chimed in.
"Yeah, exactly."
"So this is all the Hyuga clan can do?"
"If I were you, I'd stop telling people you're from the Hyuga clan."
Shota kept his head down, shoulders trembling slightly. But he wasn't crying. He just bit down on his lip and stared stubbornly at the ground.
That boy shoved him again. "What? You're not convinced?"
Shota staggered back another step and still said nothing.
"What game are you guys playing?"
The older students turned around and saw a tiny first-year with a potato-shaped head walking toward them, looking completely curious.
The leader frowned. "Who are you?"
Shin-chan walked up to them, tipped his head back to look at them, then looked at the kid they had surrounded and said, "I want to play too."
"Play?"
"Yeah. The game where one person stands in the middle and everyone else stands around talking at him." Shin-chan said it with complete seriousness.
The lead boy froze for a second, then sneered. "Brat, are you trying to stand up for him?"
"What does 'stand up' mean? Like sticking your head out?" Shin-chan reached up and touched his head. "My head's already out right here."
The boys around him exchanged glances, and one of them couldn't help snickering.
The leader's expression darkened. He stepped forward. "Brat, do you think I don't dare hit you?"
Shin-chan just looked at him without saying anything.
The boy raised his hand and chopped at Shin-chan's shoulder.
Shin-chan shifted one step to the side and dodged it perfectly.
The boy froze for a second, then threw out another strike—this time aimed at Shin-chan's face.
Shin-chan took another small step to the side and dodged again.
The boy's face turned red as he lunged forward, throwing out several palm strikes in a row.
Shin-chan weaved left and right, moving only a tiny bit each time, but the palms just couldn't touch him.
The boys around them were dumbstruck.
"Stop running!"
Dodging another strike, Shin-chan replied seriously, "I'm not running. I'm standing right here."
"Then why can't I hit you?"
"Because you're too slow," Shin-chan said.
The boy's face went bright red.
"Too slow?" Gritting his teeth, he dropped into a familiar Hyuga opening stance and shifted his footwork as he rushed in.
Eight Trigrams Palm Strike.
Shin-chan tilted his head and dodged.
Another palm strike.
Shin-chan ducked low and dodged again.
A third strike swept sideways at him.
Shin-chan leaned back, and the gust of the palm brushed right past the tip of his nose.
The boy couldn't stop his momentum and stumbled forward a step before regaining his balance. Then he turned and stared at Shin-chan.
Shin-chan had already straightened back up and was standing there looking at him.
The boy stopped, sweat beading on his forehead, and looked up at Shin-chan.
Shin-chan looked back at him, eyes bright, showing neither fear nor smugness—more like he was just waiting for the next round of the game to start.
And suddenly, the boy realized something.
From start to finish, this kid had never once struck back.
He had only been dodging.
And yet, no matter what, the boy couldn't hit him—not even the edge of his clothes.