Satoru quickly pulled the shuriken from his head, grinning as he said, "See? Just a little exaggeration. It's nothing, right?"
Sasuke's face darkened further as he watched the blood trickling down Satoru's temple.
"Looks like Father and big brother went too easy on you yesterday. You still have the energy to joke around," Sasuke muttered. "I'm telling them everything, second brother."
"Huh?" Satoru's smile faltered. "Sasuke, you're not as cute as you used to be. Has my soft-hearted little brother been switched with some brutish doppelgänger?"
"Don't move!" Sasuke commanded with uncharacteristic fierceness before running off to grab a first-aid kit.
Satoru sighed and squatted down obediently. *Being a good brother means knowing when to surrender.* He thought with a chuckle, *I'm such a generous sibling.*
Sasuke returned with the first-aid kit, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the supplies. "Hold still," he demanded as he began cleaning the wound.
"Second brother, don't you feel the blood?" Sasuke's voice was tight with worry and irritation.
Satoru's eyes twinkled as he laughed. "Blood? Nah, this is tomato juice! Your favorite snack, remember?"
Sasuke's brows knitted in disbelief. "Tomato juice that hurts? You really do have tomato juice in your head, don't you?"
"Of course not! I can't stand tomatoes. They're sour and bitter, not sweet at all," Satoru said, forcing a grin despite the sting of antiseptic. "Now, three-color dango, that's a different story. Tomato juice isn't worthy of my handsome face."
Sasuke's lips twitched as memories of the past surfaced. One time, Father had given them tomato seedlings to grow, saying, *"Take care of these tomatoes as if they were yourselves. Water them, give them sunlight, and nurture them well, and they'll grow strong and bear fruit."*
Even Satoru, despite his mischief, had watered his plant religiously. But while his plant grew big and lush, its tomatoes were infamously sour. He'd even tried using ninjutsu to secretly swap fruits with Sasuke and Itachi's plants. In the end, everyone found out, and he couldn't live it down.
Sasuke's slight smile was short-lived as he knotted the bandage tightly around Satoru's head.
"Ouch—hey, careful!" Satoru flinched before standing up. "Fully healed! Good as new!" he announced dramatically.
Sasuke sighed. "Second brother, what are you really here for?" he asked, already half-expecting more nonsense.
Satoru's expression turned serious. "I came to practice shuriken, of course."
Sasuke blinked, surprised by his brother's sudden seriousness. "Really?"
"Yes," Satoru said, picking up the shuriken from the ground, his eyes growing thoughtful and intense. *I need to master this if I'm going to graduate early,* he reminded himself. He wasn't just avoiding school life; he was racing against time. With Itachi already eight, the ominous night of their clan's downfall was drawing near. He needed time to plan, to set things in motion.
Skipping classes and wandering around wasn't just for fun—it was preparation.
The shuriken glinted in the sunlight as Satoru took aim. His gaze sharpened, focused, and he released it with a flick of his wrist.
"Whoosh!"
The shuriken flew straight, slicing through the air with purpose.