บท 303: Could It Really Be Impossible?
Destruction is always easier than construction. Building something may take several months, but it often takes only a few minutes, or even just a few seconds, to destroy it. The same applies to repairs, which can be even more troublesome than rebuilding, as is the case with the house now.
It took over two hours of hard work to get the house back into decent shape. At least, now there wasn't cold air blowing in through the hole in the roof, and they didn't have to worry about stepping on shards of glass scattered on the floor.
Of course, in terms of aesthetics, it was pretty tragic. The hastily nailed wooden planks were laid out in all directions, looking ugly—like a large bandage slapped onto the house. But at least it was livable again.
Kaguya had also gone out to buy some groceries and daily necessities, which helped alleviate the immediate needs.
However, this left both Kaguya and Kurome completely exhausted, especially Kurome, whose face was flushed, breathing heavily, and drenched in sweat. She collapsed onto the bed, unwilling to move, feeling even more drained than after a battle.
Since the winter days in the north are particularly short, by the time they finally finished cleaning up the house, it was already close to dusk, with the sky gradually darkening.
In the village, every household gradually lit their oil lamps, and wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys, adding a touch of peace and tranquility to the howling northern wind.
In this world, there isn't much in the way of entertainment—no television or computers. At least in the world of Naruto, there were TVs to watch, but here, there was nothing.
After having dinner, Kaguya and Kurome returned to the bedroom and lay down on the bed. However, Kaguya found herself unable to sleep. After all, it was only around seven or eight in the evening. In other worlds, she would still be playing games or watching TV at this time.
Kaguya used to be a night owl, never going to bed before 2 a.m., so now it was impossible for her to fall asleep so early.
As Kaguya lay there feeling bored, a small shadow quietly pushed open the door and tiptoed over.
With her clear eyes, Kaguya could see clearly—it was none other than Kurome. What was she sneaking in here for?
Though surprised, Kaguya didn't say anything, curious to see what Kurome was up to.
Kurome carefully approached Kaguya's bed, gently lifted the soft blanket, and slipped inside.
Kaguya's curiosity deepened—what was Kurome trying to do? Could it be because her room was too cold? That didn't make sense, though, since Kaguya had given her several small heaters, making her room even warmer than Kaguya's.
Was she afraid of sleeping alone?
That seemed even more far-fetched. Kurome had killed more people than she could count, her hands stained with blood. How could someone like her, who appeared like a blood-soaked demon to others, be afraid to sleep alone?
As Kaguya's thoughts raced, a soft, delicate hand reached over and gently hugged her waist.
Kaguya was momentarily stunned, then sighed inwardly. Even though Kurome appeared mature, her heart was still very young. After all, she was just a teenage girl. It was natural for her to have fears and worries.
But then, Kurome's soft hand, like a playful fish, began to move up from Kaguya's waist. Before Kaguya could react, Kurome's hand reached her chest.
Caught off guard, Kaguya's body trembled slightly. She hadn't expected Kurome to do this.
Alright, maybe it was just an unconscious act. Kurome had lost her parents when she was very young and was raised by her sister. But later, she was separated from her sister. Perhaps the long-term lack of maternal love had led to this behavior.
Kaguya rationalized it this way.
But come on, little one, that's not dough—you don't need to knead it!
As if she could sense Kaguya's inner thoughts, Kurome withdrew her hand from Kaguya's chest. Kaguya let out a sigh of relief—she had almost lost control. That strange feeling wasn't pleasant, like being electrified.
Just when Kaguya thought it was all over, Kurome's hand started moving again, this time not upwards but downwards.
Her soft hand glided over Kaguya's smooth, flat abdomen, heading even lower. Just as it was about to cross the final barrier, Kaguya's hand shot out like lightning and grabbed Kurome's delicate wrist.
Now Kaguya finally understood—this little girl was deliberately trying to misbehave.
"Do you know what you're doing?" Kaguya asked in a low voice.
"I-I don't know," Kurome replied nervously, her small voice trembling.
"If you don't know, why did you touch?" Kaguya said, both amused and exasperated.
"But I do know that I like you," Kurome whispered, clutching Kaguya's hand.
You like me?
Kaguya felt as if she had been struck by lightning, her body stiffening, and her mind going blank.
"Nonsense! Do you even know what it means to like someone?" Kaguya said, her voice tinged with irritation as she tried to regain her composure. "You're just a child—you don't understand these things."
"I'm not a child anymore!" Kurome protested loudly, clearly sensitive about her age.
"Who says you aren't? To me, you're still just a little kid." Kaguya flicked Kurome on the forehead.
Normally, Kurome would clutch her head and cry out in pain, but this time she didn't. Instead, she grabbed Kaguya's hand and pressed it to her chest, saying urgently, "I'm not little anymore—if you don't believe me, feel for yourself."
Indeed, this was no longer something a child would have, and the sensation was just as soft as always.
"Even so, it doesn't matter," Kaguya said, pulling her hand away. "Do you really know what it means to like someone?"
"I don't know what liking someone means, but I like being with you, no matter where we are," Kurome said earnestly, her voice filled with determination. "Even if it's in hell, I want to be with you."
"Stop saying such things," Kaguya said sternly.
"I'm not just saying it—I really like being with you," Kurome shouted.
Kaguya furrowed her brows, about to say something more, but suddenly she froze, the words catching in her throat.
In the darkness of the night, others might not have noticed, but Kaguya's sharp eyes could see clearly—the faint traces of tears on Kurome's cheeks.
Kaguya was stunned, as if a flash of lightning had cut through the fog in her mind. Those seemingly unrelated clues began to connect, piece by piece.
Kurome secretly reading a romance manual, her inexplicable rivalry with Sayo, the different look in her eyes when she gazed at Kaguya, and her fierce confrontation with Mine yesterday.
Kaguya suddenly understood.
But...this was too ridiculous.
At that moment, Kurome seemed like a nervous little insect, anxiously watching Kaguya. Now, she regretted being so hasty in confessing her feelings. What if she was rejected?
Seeing Kaguya's silence, Kurome's heart sank even further. Her small, pink face turned slightly pale.
Is this really the end?
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