"Big sister, you really mean what you said?"
A slow, honeyed smile curved on Evan's lips.
"I… I, Kushina Uzumaki, always keep my word."
Her cheeks were burning crimson—
Even the pale skin of her neck had flushed a delicate rose.
Evan looked at the beauty in front of him…
?(✿＞﹏＜)?
Kushina froze—
Her mind went completely blank.
Like she'd slipped into a dream.
She had never felt anything like this before—
As if her very soul was being drawn out of her.
Without realizing it, she rose slightly on her toes—
Suddenly, her eyes widened.
Her whole body shuddered violently.
"Senpai? Are you two done talking?"
Anko's voice rang clearly from outside the bedroom.
The intimate atmosphere shattered instantly.
Kushina shoved Evan away, gasping for breath.
Her face was red enough to drip juice.
She didn't dare look at him—
Bit her lip hard—
Scrambled to smooth the wrinkles on her clothes—
Only then did she open the door.
Anko blinked at Kushina's flushed face.
"Senpai, what happened? Why are you so red? Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine!" Kushina stammered, eyes darting away.
"Anko, come talk with me for a bit!"
She absolutely did not dare be alone with Evan right now.
Grabbing Anko tightly, she practically fled to the living room.
"Senpai, are you sure—?"
"It's nothing! Really!"
Evan chuckled softly behind them, licking his lips.
Yep.
Definitely peach-flavored.
He didn't follow.
The little pregnant woman had already made her decision—
She just needed time to accept it.
Fishing required patience, after all.
He glanced at the two women whispering on the sofa.
His mood soared.
Without saying goodbye, he slipped lazily out the door.
Just as he stepped outside—
He came face-to-face with a smug-looking Asuma…
and a poised, graceful beauty beside him.
Thick, dark, lightly curled hair.
A delicate face.
Straight nose.
Soft, rosy lips.
But the most striking were her eyes—
Moist, ruby-toned, shimmering like jeweled petals.
Evan swallowed discreetly.
He quickly shifted his gaze from her face—
to her chest.
The mesh undershirt outlined a generous curve.
A deep, mesmerizing valley…
"Lord Evan!"
"Lord Evan!"
Both Asuma and the beauty stepped forward respectfully.
"Oh, Asuma. And Kurenai."
Evan smiled warmly. "No need to be so formal—just call me Evan."
His meteoric rise during the Third War had created some unavoidable distance between him and his peers.
"Haha! Evan, did you also come to visit Kushina-senpai?" Asuma asked.
"That's right. She's been a bit lonely lately, so I came to chat with her."
Evan said with absolute calm, not even blinking.
"Ahh, makes sense. You and the Hokage are so close after all," Asuma nodded, completely convinced.
Evan turned to Kurenai.
"So, you two… dating?"
He swept them with a teasing look.
"W-What nonsense are you talking about?!"
Kurenai's face flushed instantly.
Her beautiful ruby eyes glared at him before she hurried past into the house.
"Ahahaha…"
Asuma scratched his head awkwardly, but he was clearly thrilled.
Evan bumped his shoulder.
"Tsk tsk, so what's going on between you and Kurenai? Spill it."
Asuma wilted.
"Same as always… she doesn't reject me, but she doesn't accept me either…"
…
Wait.
Is Kurenai a gold-digger?
Evan was stunned.
Then again… it didn't quite fit.
More likely—
Kurenai simply wasn't ready.
After all, Asuma right now was a chain-smoking, scruffy, chin-stubbled slacker…
Evan switched perspectives.
Yeah… Kurenai has standards.
But since the two weren't together yet—
That was good.
Very good.
Let me, the Great Heavenly Savior of Love, rescue Kurenai from suffering!
With my current strength…
How many Asumas am I worth, anyway?
Everyone knew:
"One Asuma" was a unit of measurement.
After chatting a bit, Evan took his leave.
But the moment he stepped into the street—
A figure blocked his path.
"Hey, kid. You're Evan, right?"
The stranger's tone was cold.
Evan glanced lazily at the clan crest—
A fan-shaped symbol.
The Uchiha.
He shook his head. "Nope. Wrong guy."
The man blinked, thrown off.
His prepared speech jammed in his throat.
"Tch!
Denying it won't help. I already checked—you're Evan."
"…Then why did you ask?"
The man ignored him.
"I am Uchiha Kenta. Someone said you're strong. I came to challenge you."
"No interest."
Evan rolled his eyes.
Another idiot.
"You don't get a say in this!" Kenta snapped.
He then glanced back over his shoulder.
"Itachi, watch closely. Not just any mutt is worthy of teaching you!"
But no response came.
Behind Kenta stood a tiny, stoic-faced five-year-old.
Uchiha Itachi.
Black hair, blank expression, motionless as a stone.
Evan's eyes softened.
He smiled widely at the child.
"Itachi~ call me daddy."
"…!"
The ice mask cracked.
Tiny Itachi's face twisted in immediate outrage.
Memories flooded his mind—
He remembered this insufferable man.
At age four, on the battlefield, his father had taken him along.
They had run into this bastard.
Who pinched his neck.
Who teased him.
Who called him absurd nicknames—
"Little Filial Son,"
"Brother-Spoiling Maniac,"
"One-vs-Seven Monster,"
and other nonsense.
Worst of all—
He had tried to make Itachi call him "godfather."
And Father…
Father didn't even object.
Before Itachi could respond,
Kenta exploded.
"Arrogant brat!"
You want the clan head's son to call you dad?
That means—
You're slapping the entire Uchiha clan in the face!
"You're seeking death!"
Kenta's eyes snapped open—
Three tomoe Sharingan spinning viciously.
"What are you staring at?" Evan asked calmly.
"I'm staring at you!" Kenta snarled.
"Let me show you true Uchiha power!"
His hands blurred through seals.
"Fire Style — Great Fireball Technique!"
A roaring wall of flame burst forth, rushing straight at Evan.
Little Itachi's eyes sharpened with interest.
Father had mentioned wanting Evan to teach him someday.
Itachi himself didn't mind either way—
But the clan elders clearly hated the idea.
Now he was curious:
How strong was this man?
The fire roared toward Evan—
And he simply stepped aside, barely moving.
Kenta used the flames as cover—
Body flickering behind Evan.
His long blade flashed as he swung down.
Seeing Evan raise a single hand—
Kenta smirked.
"Pathetic!
You're this weak?!"
He didn't slow the strike.
His expression twisted with bloodlust.
For insulting the Uchiha—
He'd chop off this man's arm.
The blade descended.
Little Itachi frowned.
Why wasn't he dodging?
Kenta was an elite jonin.
At this distance—
That arm was gone…
The strike landed.
PA!
…
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