As he hummed softly to himself, he wandered through the outskirts of Konoha, searching for a particular black-haired boy. On the opposite side of the village, a large festival and tournament were taking place at the stadium, leaving the rest of Konoha quiet.

Finally spotting the teen, he released some chakra and executed a jutsu to materialize behind Miroku, casually leaning against the fence with an arched brow—mostly because it looked cool.

"Hey, kid." To him, Miroku was like family—he had even offered to adopt the boy a few months ago, but Miroku had declined with a shake of his head, but even then, he made sure to let the teen know he was always welcome. It was clear to him that Miroku was lost, always feeling like an outsider.

It reminded him of his own youth, though he at least had a clear goal and a circle of people who genuinely cared about him. In contrast, while Miroku was popular, he lacked a true purpose and motivation to grow stronger or continue his training—he was just a lost soul, drifting along aimlessly.