radicalducati Chapter 582 Playing
Chapter 582 Playing
Naruto and Satsuki left, and it was completely dark. The two of them had completely pulled their thoughts out of what had just happened and turned to another question: where would they sleep tonight?
He planned to find a place to rest for the night. Not just any random tree hollow or cave to make do for the night.
Instead, they truly wanted to find a comfortable place to stay, just like two ordinary travelers who didn't have to worry about anything.
Although you don't need to eat and sleep as frequently as a normal person, "not needing" and "not wanting" are two different things.
Naruto felt that holding Satsuki's hand and walking on unfamiliar streets, eating snacks, playing games, and watching the excitement in a brightly lit night market, and then returning to a warm room late at night, was a more fulfilling experience than any earth-shattering event.
"Go to the next world now?" The two rejected the idea. They were on vacation, not on a mission.
Traveling from one world to another is just a matter of a thought for him, but the feeling is different—it feels like he's rushing from one event to another.
He didn't want that. He wanted to slow down, to be an ordinary person in places where he didn't need to be a "savior," someone no one knew, someone who could walk hand-in-hand with his wife on the street.
In this world, Naruto and Satsuki are completely unknown. They are just two good-looking young people who look like a newlywed couple, no different from any other couple on this street.
This freedom of "not being watched by anyone" is a rare luxury for Naruto and Satsuki, who have experienced too much scrutiny.
So, Naruto and Satsuki arrived at a very prosperous town in the Land of Fire, outside of Konoha.
The town was bustling. All sorts of shops and stalls lined both sides of the street, and lanterns hung from the eaves, forming a warm river of light.
The air was filled with the aromas of various foods: the smoky fragrance of grilled skewers, the savory aroma of takoyaki, the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts, and the cacophony of voices—the shouts of vendors, the haggling of customers, the laughter of children chasing and playing, and the indistinct singing coming from a street-side pub.
Naruto and Satsuki walked hand in hand from one end of the street to the other, and then from the other end of the street back to the other end.
They started browsing around and stopped at a food stall. Naruto bought two skewers of grilled meatballs, handing one to Satsuki and keeping the other for himself.
They stopped in front of a shuriken-throwing game booth. Naruto picked up some wooden shuriken, weighed them in his hand, and then casually tossed them, hitting the bullseye.
Zuo Yue also picked up a ninja, didn't even look at the target, and casually flicked it, hitting the bullseye right in the center. The stall owner looked unlucky; he didn't really like ninjas coming to be customers.
Satsuki and Naruto enjoyed the happiness and tranquility of the moment. A contentment that needed no explanation.
As for the sudden resurrection of the dead in Konoha Village and the death of the Root leader, let the people of this world handle those matters.
Those who need to explain, explain; those who need to clean up, clean up; those who need to cry, laugh, hug, or shed tears, are all where they belong, doing what they are supposed to do.
Of course, it's not accurate to say that there's absolutely no impact.
Naruto noticed that from the moment they entered the street, many eyes, intentionally or unintentionally, secretly fell on Satsuki.
Those gazes came from all directions, from all ages, and from all backgrounds.
An older man with a child stopped walking, only to be pulled back to his senses by his wife tugging at his sleeve. He then coughed awkwardly twice, pretending nothing had happened.
There were children dressed in kimonos, huddled together in small groups, pushing and shoving each other. No one dared to approach and speak first, but no one could bear to look away from that direction.
A young, single man's gaze lingered on Satsuki for a few seconds, then, seeing Satsuki affectionately linking arms with Naruto, the light in his eyes dimmed, and with a sense of disappointment that "all the good women are married," he silently turned away.
A few other patrons, half-drunk, staggered out of the tavern, squinted at Zuo Yue, and seemed about to say something, but were then covered by their companions and dragged away.
In the original work, during the Shippuden era, Sasuke, who had grown up, unintentionally obtained information about the Executioner's Blade by virtue of his good looks.
Naruto held Satsuki's hand as they walked through the web of gazes, feeling the stares coming from all directions. He turned his head to look at Satsuki's profile, at that face that was made even softer, warmer, and more captivating by the light of the red lanterns.
"Satsuki is really amazing." Naruto's eyes were fixed ahead, not on Satsuki, but his fingers tightened slightly in Satsuki's hand. "Even with me by his side, he still attracts so much attention."
Satsuki turned her head to look at Naruto's profile, and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.
"Did they cause Naruto any trouble? Or should I use the Transformation Jutsu..."
"Just wait, as soon as Naruto nods, she'll make all eyes disappear."
"No need." Naruto's face turned even redder, and his fingers clenched tighter in Satsuki's hand. "I want to show off too."
"About how lovely my wife is."
Upon hearing this, Zuo Yue pressed her body even closer to Naruto, their fingers intertwined, and a happy smile spread across her face, a smile warmer than any lantern on the street.
The two continued walking at a leisurely pace. Soon, a shop caught Zuo Yue's attention. It was a clothing store, and it looked quite ordinary from the outside—wooden door frames, white walls, and a handwritten wooden sign hanging at the entrance, not much different from any other shop on this street.
But looking at the clothes hanging in the store—kimonos, skirts, sportswear, casual wear, and many other fashionable garments that seemed out of place in this world, ranging in color from pure white to deep black, densely packed on every hanger.
At the same time, Naruto noticed something—almost all the clothes in the store were women's clothing.
Naruto's gaze wandered among the dazzling array of clothes before settling on a black cheongsam.
The fabric of the cheongsam had a faint sheen under the light. It was tailored to fit well, with a high waistline and a slit in the skirt that started at the thigh, just right.
The cheongsam was embroidered with floral patterns that started from the hem, climbed up to the waist, and reached the chest. Naruto's throat bobbed as he uncontrollably imagined what Sasuke would look like wearing the dress. He really wanted Sasuke to wear that dress for him.
Seeing Naruto's eyes fixed on a certain piece of clothing, Satsuki didn't hesitate at all.
Welcome!
The shop owner came out from behind the counter. She was a middle-aged woman, very well-maintained, wearing a gorgeous dress, and had a warm smile on her face.
Her gaze lingered on Zuo Yue for a moment, then her eyes lit up. "Oh? What a rare guest! Welcome, welcome! It's truly a rare sight indeed, young man. Your girlfriend has amazed me; it's the first time I've ever had such a huge impact on me. And this isn't just flattery."
"...She's not my girlfriend," Naruto corrected. The shopkeeper paused, his smile freezing for a moment.
She's no longer my girlfriend. She's my wife.
Hearing Naruto's addition, the proprietress suddenly realized, and her smile returned. A silly young couple in love? She thought to herself, these kinds of customers are the easiest to make money from.
"Boss, I want this." Zuo Yue's voice came from the space illuminated by the lights, with a hint of embarrassment. Her finger pointed steadily at the black cheongsam that Naruto had been looking at.
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(It's been a long time since I've written a cheesy plot. It's a pity that the versions I've posted are all edited. The author can only keep the complete version for himself.)