"I'm home."
As if to confirm Tenten's mother's words, the sound of a closing door and a male voice came from the entryway right on cue.
Hearing the voice, a soft smile appeared on Tenten's mother's face, and she hurried over to greet him.
"Sit here for now."
Tenten pulled Mamoru to sit on the solid wooden sofa in the living room, reaching out to take the bag he was holding. "Just give the things to me. Wait here for a bit, dinner will be ready soon."
Mamoru handed over the bag and leaned back.
Tenten turned and headed toward the kitchen with the bag. Her mother also happened to return from the entryway and, seeing this, quickly jogged a few steps.
"Let me help."
"No need, mom, I'm plenty strong." Tenten's cheerful voice sounded from the kitchen doorway, and she disappeared inside in a flash.
Just then, a man stepped into the living room.
He wore thin-rimmed glasses, had a handsome face, and possessed a gentle, refined aura. No one would ever associate this appearance with 'Konoha's Number One Arms Dealer.'
He immediately looked toward the kitchen, his lips curling up naturally, his voice full of doting affection. "My dear daughter, did you miss dad?"
"No." Tenten's response drifted out from the kitchen, very blunt, she didn't even poke her head out.
"How could this be..." Tenten's father was instantly petrified, frozen in place.
The gentle smile on his face hadn't even had time to fade before it solidified into a comical look of disappointment.
Seeing this, Tenten's mother shook her head with a smile and went into the kitchen to help.
It took a full half-minute before Tenten's father seemed to wind back up and come to his senses. He dejectedly walked to the living room sofa and sat down heavily, his entire body immersed in the blow of 'my daughter doesn't miss me,' completely failing to notice someone else sitting beside him.
He stretched his slightly tired neck and shoulders. Suddenly, a subtle sense of incongruity crawled up his spine—the feeling of being quietly watched.
He instinctively looked to the side.
Their eyes met.
"Waaaaah!"
Tenten's father launched himself off the sofa, retreating two steps with startling speed. He pointed a finger at the boy sitting calmly on the sofa, his voice cracking. "Y-you, who are you?! Why are you in my house!?"
The thought of a 'thief' instantly flashed through his mind, but he immediately dismissed it.
What kind of thief would sit so brazenly on the sofa side-by-side with the owner?
While he was rapidly speculating, the boy spoke, his tone calm and steady, "Don't be nervous. I'm Tenten's friend."
"Tenten's friend?" Tenten's father's eyes narrowed behind his lenses. "...A boy?"
In the next second, the aura around him changed abruptly. His originally refined and gentle style suddenly became rugged, taking on a powerful presence like a dramatic freeze-frame (JoJo style).
He slowly cracked his knuckles with a faint "click," his voice deep and filled with pressure. "Brat... have you decided how you want to die?"
Mamoru felt that as a guest, it would be somewhat rude not to play along. His style also changed in a second (JoJo style). With an overbearing spirit, he replied in a deep voice, "But I refuse."
"Dad, what's wrong?" Tenten poked half her body out of the kitchen, holding a head of cabbage.
The two in the living room instantly switched back to their normal styles.
"Nothing. Don't worry about dad."
Tenten's father rubbed the back of his head and gave his daughter a simple smile. The speed of his face-changing was breathtaking.
"Who's worried about you?" Tenten curled her lip and turned her gaze to the quietly sitting Mamoru. "Don't scare Mamoru."
After saying that, she pulled her head back in.
Mamoru felt as if he could hear the sound of someone's heart breaking.
The old father's eyes twitched uncontrollably.
His precious daughter cared more about an outsider than her own father.
A silent scream echoed in his heart as anger mixed with jealousy burned fiercely.
Tenten's father was furious. He felt as if one punch right now would be enough to kill a Hokage.
Mamoru sat quietly, watching this uncle frozen there like a clay statue, his expression changing unpredictably.
"Mister, are you okay?" Mamoru asked tentatively.
"Who's your father! Don't call me that!" Tenten's father growled in grief and indignation, as if his tail had been stepped on.
"I won't acknowledge your relationship. Absolutely... not."
"..."
Invisible black lines seemed to descend from Mamoru's forehead.
Damn, he's taking advantage of me. As expected, he's a master.
Tenten's father sat huffily on another single-seater sofa, emitting a visible low-pressure aura.
He pushed up his glasses and scrutinized the boy not far away like a scanner—too handsome, and those eyes... hmph, he doesn't look honest at all.
Instantly, he labeled Mamoru as a 'punk who's good at deceiving women's feelings.'
It had to be said that from a certain perspective, Tenten's father's intuition was quite accurate.
While the other party was scrutinizing Mamoru, Mamoru was also observing this big merchant who controlled Konoha's arms lifeline.
Unfortunately, the other man's lenses were reflecting light, obscuring his eyes, but the hostility and wariness coming off him were undisguised.
Mamoru could more or less understand the other man's feelings.
Imagine the darling you've carefully protected suddenly bringing home a strange boy... that kind of heartbroken, agonizing feeling was probably like this.
Thus, the two held their own thoughts, locked in a silent standoff until Tenten's clear call sounded from the kitchen.
"Dinner's ready!"