The morning light streamed through the window, and as Hirofumi awoke, he was immediately struck by a wave of pain that coursed through his entire body. Every muscle ached, and he couldn't quite comprehend why.
After all, the version of himself that had been in the summoning space was a manifestation of chakra. How could that pain he experienced during his encounter with Madara be echoing in his real body?
But in reality, it wasn't even a proper battle. He hadn't fought Madara since it had been a one-sided ass-wooping. Though it was evident that Madara held a deep-seated grudge against him, Hirofumi couldn't help but acknowledge the dedication with which Madara had approached his 'teaching'—while simultaneously pummeling him.
In just a single night of relentless beatings, Hirofumi felt he had gained a wealth of knowledge.
Madara hadn't resorted to any ninjutsu—not even the simplest techniques like the Clone or Substitution Jutsu. Instead, he relied entirely on his overwhelming physical prowess and combat skills, leaving Hirofumi with absolutely no opportunity to mount a defense or counterattack.
The sheer strength of the warriors from the Warring States period was truly astounding, especially when exemplified by someone as formidable as Madara.
Hirofumi had sparred with both his father and grandfather in the past as both were seasoned Jonin. However, comparing their fighting skills to Madara's made Hirofumi realize that his father and grandfather's techniques seemed like mere child's play in comparison.
He finally grasped the meaning behind Madara's often-posed question before combat: "Do you also want to dance?" The truth was that Madara's combat style transcended mere fighting; it felt like an intricate dance—elegant yet brimming with lethal intent.
At that moment, Hirofumi couldn't shake the feeling that summoning Madara for his first contract had been an absolute stroke of genius. There was simply so much to learn from someone like him.
He shuddered at the thought of having summoned Hashirama instead. The image that formed in his mind was one of the First Hokage clapping his hands and summoning a massive Buddha statue to crush him into the ground. Hirofumi couldn't help but envision Hashirama gleefully asking, "Did I teach you well?"
The sheer absurdity of that scenario brought a grin to Hirofumi's face.
With a groan, he slowly rose from his bed and began to put on his clothes. "Ugh… It feels as though my bones are about to fall apart. Damn that Madara… No more pig trotters for him…"
Last night, Hirofumi had discovered Madara's peculiar fondness for pig trotters. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he had inquired about it, but Madara had merely brushed off the question, requesting instead that Hirofumi leave a considerable pile of pig trotters in the summoning space.
In the summoning space, after confirming Hirofumi had left, Madara picked up a blank scroll. It was one Hirofumi had created using some enigmatic method that intrigued Madara.
He examined the blank scroll with meticulous care, even activating his Mangekyō Sharingan to inspect it further, yet the scroll appeared to be utterly ordinary—there was nothing remarkable about it.
This revelation surprised Madara; perhaps the boy's methods were more extraordinary than he had initially perceived. However, his focus shifted away from Hirofumi. With a steady hand, he opened the blank scroll and inscribed a sealing array upon it.
To someone of Madara's caliber, creating a sealing array was a simple task. In no time at all, he had crafted a brand-new sealing scroll. As he looked at his creation, a strange smile crept onto Madara's face. If Hirofumi had been observing the summoning space, he would have noticed that Madara's smile held an unexpected hint of warmth.
In the next moment, Madara began sealing a plethora of roasted pig trotters, braised pig trotters, and five-spice pig trotters into the scroll. Once it was filled to the brim with these delicacies, he carefully tucked it away into the folds of his robe.
He distinctly remembered Hirofumi mentioning the possibility of making contracts with the dead in Konoha. This explained how Madara had been summoned and bound by this contract.
However, it also meant there was a considerable likelihood that Hashirama, that fool, could also be summoned one day, finding his way into this same summoning space.
Pig trotters were, after all, Hashirama's favorite dish. When that day arrived, Madara envisioned himself presenting Hashirama with a scroll brimming with pig trotters. That idiot would undoubtedly be overjoyed, perhaps even shedding tears of gratitude and wrapping his arms around Madara in a heartfelt embrace.
The mere thought of that scenario caused the smile on Madara's face to widen even further.
"Stupid Hashirama. You'd better thank me properly when the time comes. Hehehehe…"
For some inexplicable reason, after spending a night in the company of Hirofumi, Madara found that his feelings of humiliation and anger had gradually faded away.
In his interactions with Hirofumi, it almost felt as if he were confronting another version of himself…
This new feeling was oddly refreshing for Madara. It stirred within him a torrent of thoughts about Hashirama, making him reminisce even more...
Meanwhile, Hirofumi remained blissfully unaware of the happenings in the summoning space. He wasn't like the Third Hokage, Hiruzen, who had a penchant for spying on others.
Once he was dressed and had freshened up, Hirofumi joined his family at the dining table, where his father, grandfather, and mother were already seated.
Hanako, his mother, glanced at him with a hint of concern etched in her features.
"Hirofumi…" She called soflty.
"What is it, Mother?"
"Hirofumi… did you not sleep well last night?"
"Uh… It was okay. Why do you ask?" Hirofumi responded, puzzled by her scrutiny.
"You look like you have dark circles under your eyes…" she noted, her expression growing more concerned. "And… you seem a bit out of it. Hirofumi, do you have a girl you like? Or are you… in love already?"
Hanako regarded her son with a probing gaze.
Pfft...
Hirofumi couldn't help but sputter, almost choking on his food in surprise.
"What are you talking about, Mother? I'm just a student at the Ninja Academy! Love and stuff like that is way too early for me. Can't you at least let me graduate first before diving into those matters?"
He didn't even need romance to get a girl. With his looks, he could strike any chick.
'I wonder what Ino is doing… Wait, why am I hearing FBI sirens?"