Sakura stirred awake as she felt a gentle shake on her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, her body groggy and heavy from sleep. For a moment, she didn't recognize where she was, but the sight of her desk cluttered with papers brought everything rushing back.

Oh no, she muttered, sitting upright with a start. Her hands flew to the stack of homework in front of her, flipping through the pages frantically. Please don't tell me I drooled on it...

She examined the top page, sighing in relief when everything looked intact. No embarrassing stains.

"Everything okay?" her mother's soft voice came from beside her. Sakura turned to see Mebuki standing there, a warm smile on her face and a tray in her hands. It held a glass of milk and an egg sandwich, neatly prepared.

"Yeah," Sakura said, fixing her disheveled hair as best as she could. "I just... fell asleep while doing homework. I still need to finish this."

"Well, first, eat something," Mebuki said gently, placing the tray down on Sakura's desk. "You can't think straight on an empty stomach."

"Thanks, Mom," Sakura murmured, reaching for the sandwich. As Mebuki started to leave, Sakura hesitated. Something about the moment made her chest tighten, and before she knew it, the words came out.

"Mom... I'm sorry."

Mebuki paused. "For what, sweetie?"

"For... not taking you seriously before," Sakura said quietly, her voice wavering. She looked down at her desk, embarrassed but needing to get it out. "I used to think you were just being pushy, trying to turn me into someone I'm not. But... now I get it. You just wanted what's best for me. And... thank you."

For a moment, Mebuki said nothing, and Sakura wondered if she had said the wrong thing. But then her mother's face softened, her smile full of warmth. She knelt beside Sakura and placed a gentle hand on her daughter's cheek.

"Oh, my sweet Sakura," Mebuki said, her voice brimming with love. "You don't need to apologize for the past. I've always been proud of you. I just wanted you to see the amazing person you are—and now you do. That's all a mother could ask for."

Sakura blinked rapidly, fighting the unexpected sting of tears. "Still... I'm trying harder now. I want to make you proud."

"You already do, honey," Mebuki said, brushing a strand of hair behind Sakura's ear. "But I am glad Kakashi-sensei is helping you. He must be a good teacher."

"He is," Sakura said, taking a bite of her sandwich and chewing thoughtfully. "He's strict, but in a good way. He makes me feel like I'm actually getting better."

Mebuki smiled brightly. "You should invite him to dinner sometime. Your whole team, actually. I'd love to meet them."

Sakura froze mid-bite, her mind racing. The idea of her chaotic team sitting at their dining table was... overwhelming. Not to mention, they weren't exactly the closest yet.

"I don't know about that, Mom," she said hesitantly, setting the sandwich down. "We've only been a team for, like, a few days. It's still... new."

The beginnings of a playful grin formed on Mebuki's face.

"Oh, I get it now."

"What do you mean?"

"You want to get to know that boy first... what was his name? Sasuke, right? You want to make sure he's ready to meet us before you bring him home."

"Mom!" Sakura's face turned crimson as she grabbed a nearby pillow and hurled it at her mother, who laughed and caught it easily.

"Alright, alright, I'm just kidding!" Mebuki said. "But the offer still stands. Whenever you're ready, invite your team over. I'll make the best meal. I've got to impress my future son-in-law, after all."

"Mom!" Sakura groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Mebuki giggled, leaning down to kiss the top of her daughter's head. "I'm just teasing, sweetie. Now finish your homework and come downstairs. I'm making your favorite: syrup-coated anko dumplings."

Sakura peeked out from behind her hands, unable to stop a small smile from forming. "Thanks, Mom."

"Anytime," Mebuki said, ruffling Sakura's hair before heading downstairs.

----------------------------------------

It was lunchtime, and Sakura found herself perched on the edge of the border wall, nervously clutching her bento as Iwashi carefully examined the scrolls she had handed him. Each one contained her best attempts at basic fuinjutsu seals, written in painstakingly deliberate calligraphy. Over the last four days, she had poured every spare moment into practicing and perfecting these seals, staying up late and waking up early. But even now, with Iwashi silently scrutinizing her work, she couldn't stop the nervous flutter in her chest.

"Do you know how many kanji a beginner fuinjutsu user needs to memorize and master?"

"Three thousand five hundred."

Iwashi nodded, still scanning the scrolls. "And why are the four tones in your calligraphy so important? Explain them."

Sakura took a deep breath. Iwashi had a habit of throwing these questions at her during reviews, forcing her to refresh what she'd learned in her mind. She was grateful for it—mostly.

"Fuinjutsu is as much a language as it is a battle art," she began. "The four tones are subtle indicators of intent that the writer embeds into the kanji. They determine how the seal interacts with chakra and the environment. The tones are: heibun—a steady, neutral kanji; joukyuu—a rising, questioning kanji; kaiten—a dipping and rising kanji used for transitions; and shiji—a commanding kanji for directives or activation. Changing even one tone can destabilize or completely ruin the fuinjutsu matrix."

Iwashi gave her a brief, approving nod but didn't look up. He turned to another scroll, quietly inspecting her work. Sakura kept her eyes on him, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression gave nothing away.

"What exactly is a fuinjutsu matrix?"

Sakura's mind whirred as she straightened her posture, ready to recite the knowledge she'd memorized. "A fuinjutsu matrix is made up of three parts," she began. "The first part is the central kanji, called the shukaku-fuin—'core seal.' This kanji represents the main purpose of the seal, written in the common language." She paused for a moment to make sure she had her facts right before continuing. "Surrounding the shukaku-fuin is a circle of secondary kanji known as the kaname-fuin—'keystone seals.' These provide support to the core seal, anchoring it and controlling how it functions. Finally, there's the outermost layer, called the kekkai-fuin—'barrier seals.' These regulate the seal's boundaries and prevent the energy from leaking or disrupting the environment. Together, these three layers make up a complete fuinjutsu matrix."

Iwashi's hand paused for the briefest moment before rolling the scroll closed and moving on to the next one. "Not bad," he murmured.

Sakura's chest swelled with pride for half a second before he hit her with another question.

"How does fuinjutsu actually work?" he asked, setting the scroll aside and finally glancing at her, his sharp gaze boring into her.

Sakura swallowed and straightened. This was easier, at least. "Fuinjutsu works similarly to ninjutsu in that it relies on chakra and shape manipulation," she explained, her voice growing more confident. "But unlike ninjutsu, which requires the user to actively weave chakra through their own body, a fuinjutsu matrix acts as an external machine. The seals act like gears in a clock, converting and directing chakra with almost perfect efficiency. That's why seals can last for years or even decades after being created—they don't require constant chakra input from a shinobi."

Iwashi raised an eyebrow, silently prompting her to continue.

"Of course," Sakura added, "the downside is that fuinjutsu matrices become more complex the more they're required to do. The more intricate the chakra manipulations, the bigger and more complicated the seal needs to be. And even one mistake—a misplaced kanji, an incorrect tone—can cause the entire thing to fail."

Iwashi's expression remained unreadable, but the faintest flicker of approval flashed in his eyes. "Good," he said simply. "You've clearly done your homework."

Sakura let out a small breath of relief.

"The average shinobi takes about a month to master these basics," he said bluntly. "You managed it in four days."

Sakura blinked. Was that a compliment? It sure didn't sound like one. "Thank you, sensei," she said cautiously, trying to gauge his tone.

"Don't thank me yet. I can also see you've been skipping sleep. And overeating to make up for it."

Sakura's jaw dropped. "H-How…?"

Iwashi raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly subtle, Haruno. It's written all over you. The dark circles under your eyes, your unbalanced chakra flow, the faint bloating from eating too much too quickly…"

Sakura clenched her fists and looked down, a faint blush of embarrassment creeping up her neck. "I have to push myself," she muttered. "Team 7 won't be stuck doing D-rank missions forever. If I don't work harder now, I'll fall behind Naruto and Sasuke."

Iwashi let out a slow exhale, shaking his head. "You're rushing it. Overworking yourself isn't the same as working hard. All you're doing is setting yourself up to crash."

The words stung, but deep down, Sakura knew he was right. She bit her lip, staring at the ground.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Iwashi continued, his voice sharp but steady. "What are you trying to prove? That you're perfect? That you don't need help?"

Sakura didn't answer, too ashamed to meet his eyes.

After a moment, Iwashi sighed and snapped his fingers. "Sakura. Look at me."

Reluctantly, she did. His expression wasn't harsh or judgmental—just calm and focused.

"What am I here for?"

"To… to teach me," she replied, her voice small.

"Exactly. So why are you beating yourself up? You're not supposed to have all the answers. You're here to learn. You've got a teacher—use him."

Something in his words clicked, and Sakura felt the tension in her shoulders ease just a little. "You're right, sensei. I'm sorry."

"Good. Apology accepted. Now, here's your first real lesson: stop sabotaging yourself. Get a proper night's sleep. Eat properly. And pace yourself. You're not going to become a jōnin overnight."

Sakura hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Yes, sensei. I'll do better."

"Good," Iwashi said simply. "In fact, here's your assignment for tomorrow: come up with a balanced diet plan that you can actually stick to. Write it down, and I'll grade it."

Sakura sweatdropped. "You're… grading my diet?"

Iwashi shrugged. "Of course. You're a shinobi, not a civilian. Your food is your fuel. Get it wrong, and you'll burn out faster."

Sakura sighed but smiled faintly. "Alright, sensei. I'll do it."

Iwashi leaned down and pulled a scroll from his pouch, handing it to her. "Now, since you've already mastered the basics, I think it's time to teach you your first real barrier jutsu."

Sakura's eyes widened as she eagerly unrolled the scroll.

"This is a B-rank fuinjutsu," Iwashi explained. "It's called Ninja Art: Core Seal. It's a variation of the storage seal, but instead of storing objects, it absorbs chakra. Your task is to learn how to create the seal, apply it to your kunai, and charge it with your chakra. Once you've done that, you'll use the chakra strings I taught you to create a barrier."

Sakura's hands trembled slightly as she held the scroll, her excitement barely contained. "Yes, sensei! I'll get started right away!"

Iwashi gave her a rare, faint smile. "Good. Let's see what you can do."

Sakura hated the feeling of chakra exhaustion. It was like her body was running on empty, leaving her sluggish, lightheaded, and irritated. As a civilian-born ninja, she'd always been aware that her chakra reserves weren't much to boast about. But her excellent control had usually compensated for that shortcoming—until now.

Filling her first core seal had been a nightmare. The seal itself was a complex circle, etched with intricate, looping patterns resembling spirals and wave-like shapes, designed to draw in and store chakra. The ink glowed faintly blue when active, but Sakura had spent hours painstakingly pouring her chakra into it, her control fine-tuned, only for the process to drain her completely.

And now, she was stuck sitting under a tree like a lifeless lump, sipping her juice, while Kakashi-sensei read his usual book. Sasuke, annoyingly unaffected by anything, was absorbed in some kind of history text, while Naruto had been spirited away to who-knows-where by one of Kakashi's clones.

"Sensei," Sakura called out, breaking the silence. "Are there any ways to recover from chakra exhaustion quickly?"

Kakashi didn't even glance up from his book. "Meditation."

"Can you guide me through it?"

He turned the page lazily but nodded. "Alright. Sit comfortably, back straight. Close your eyes. Now, breathe in slowly through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Nice and steady."

Sakura complied, her eyes closing as she began to breathe deeply. Kakashi's voice remained calm and even.

"Focus on your breath. Let it be the anchor that grounds you. Picture your chakra as a small flame inside your body, low but steady. With each breath in, imagine that flame growing brighter, stronger. With each breath out, release the tension in your body, let it flow away like smoke."

She tried to visualize it, the soft glow of chakra pulsing faintly at her center. Her exhaustion didn't disappear, but it eased, her body and mind feeling slightly more aligned.

"Better?" Kakashi asked after a few minutes.

Sakura nodded but opened her eyes, still feeling the dull ache of depletion. "It's helping a little, but… sensei, how do I make my chakra reserves bigger? So this doesn't happen so easily?"

Kakashi snapped his book shut, earning surprised glances from both her and Sasuke. He stood and pulled a kunai from his pouch, kneeling down to draw a circle in the dirt.

"Alright, let's go back to the basics," Kakashi began, the casual tone replaced with something more deliberate. "The spiritual energy of the mind and the physical energy of the body. Together, they form the energy we call chakra."

Sakura and Sasuke exchanged glances. They already knew this from the academy. Why was Kakashi repeating it?

Kakashi caught their looks and smirked under his mask. "Bear with me. This is important." He pointed to the circle he'd drawn. "Chakra flows through your body via a network called the Chakra Pathway System—or the Meridian System. Think of it like an interconnected web of rivers and streams running throughout your body."

Did he want to guide them to their answer, or was he just lazy? Sakura squinted at Kakashi, suspicious of his motives.

"Where was I going with this?" Kakashi mused aloud, tapping his chin as if he'd genuinely forgotten, though his tone carried a distinct note of amusement.

Sakura sighed, already bracing herself for some kind of roundabout question.

"Now, here's my question: Why can shinobi use chakra, while civilians can't?"

Sasuke frowned. "Because we've been trained to use it?"

Sakura thought for a moment.

"Because shinobi have more chakra than civilians?"

Kakashi's visible eye crinkled in approval. "Exactly. Civilians have chakra, too—every living thing does. But their reserves are so small, it's like trying to fill a teacup. Shinobi have larger reserves and the training to draw it out. And here's the key: chakra reserves aren't a big vault inside your body. They're the flow of energy through your meridians, through your pathways."

He drew several lines extending out from the circle, forming a branching pattern. "Think of your chakra pathways as a system of streams, brooks, and rivers. Right now, your 'streams' are narrow. But with training, you can expand them into wider, deeper rivers, allowing more chakra to flow."

"How do I do that?"

"Glad you asked," Kakashi said, standing and motioning for her to sit in the lotus position. She crossed her legs and straightened her back, her hands resting on her knees.

"First, we're going to stimulate your meridians. This will force your pathways to expand temporarily so you can feel what it's like."

Sakura blinked. "Wait, force them to expand? Is that safe?"

Kakashi waved off her concern. "Completely safe. But it'll feel… weird."

She wasn't reassured by the mischievous glint in his eye.

Kakashi knelt beside her, placing his hand gently on her upper back, just below her neck. A warm surge of his chakra began to pour into her body, flowing steadily through her chakra pathways. At first, it felt like a soft current, but as it reached deeper, spreading through her meridians, a wave of something unexpected struck her.

It wasn't physical, but it pressed down on her all the same. Her breath caught as a wave of emotions rose to the surface, overwhelming and unrecognizable. They weren't hers. At least, she didn't think they were. There was a heaviness that clawed at her, like the echo of something lost, but the loss wasn't clear. It hurt in a way she couldn't fully understand, like a shadow of grief that left her heart aching. Then, something colder slipped in—isolating, as though she stood utterly alone in an endless void.

The sensations blurred together, sharp and indistinct, twisting and tangling inside her. There was heat too—anger, maybe? But it wasn't a rage that lashed outward. No, it turned inward, biting into her like a blade. And yet, even as she tried to grasp these feelings, they shifted and slipped away like water through her fingers. She couldn't name them, couldn't parse them. They just were—fleeting and overwhelming all at once.

And then, just as quickly as they had come, the emotions dissipated. Kakashi's chakra pushed deeper into her pathways, smoothing over the jagged edges left behind. The warmth of his chakra wrapped around her like a shield, steady and calming. She shuddered, her body relaxing as his energy continued to flow through her, pressing gently against the walls of her meridians, stretching them wider, coaxing them to expand.

"What was that?"

Kakashi was quiet for a moment, his hand never leaving her back as he continued to guide his chakra into her. When he finally spoke, his tone was soft but distant. "Sometimes, when you share chakra, you share more than energy. Memories, feelings, fragments of who you are—they can seep through. It's rare, but it happens." He paused, glancing at her. "Don't try to make sense of it now. Just focus on the exercise."

It wasn't her place to question Kakashi. He was her sensei, and his role was to teach her, to guide her. But as she sat there, feeling the weight of his presence, she couldn't help but hope that maybe, in some small way, just being here—learning from him, trusting him—might offer him something too. She didn't know what he carried, but she hoped her presence could lighten it, even just a little.

"Good. Memorize that feeling," Kakashi instructed. "Every day, I want you to sit like this and focus on expanding your meridians. Use your own chakra to mimic what I just did, bit by bit. Don't rush it—it's about consistency. Over time, this will train your body to hold more chakra naturally."

Sakura nodded again.

"But that's just one part of it," Kakashi continued. "Chakra isn't just about pathways—it's made from the energy of the mind and body. To increase your reserves, you need to strengthen both. That means keeping your body in peak condition—exercise, eat properly, and rest. And it means sharpening your mind. Meditation, mental discipline, learning new skills—all of it contributes to your chakra reserves."

He stood, brushing the dirt from his gloves. "Expand the streams, and keep the reservoir full. Do that, and you'll see results."

Kakashi let Sakura continue the chakra expansion exercise. Beside him, Sasuke sat on a rock, his Sharingan active as he observed the flow of chakra in her body with detached curiosity.

"It's so slow."

"It's supposed to be slow, Sasuke," Kakashi replied. "Expanding your reserves naturally takes time. Years. Decades, even."

"How long will it take Sakura to reach my level?"

"If she works hard? A year. Maybe a bit more."

Sasuke crossed his arms. "What about you? How long did it take you to get to where you are now?"

"A decade," Kakashi answered casually, turning a page in Icha Icha.

"What about Naruto?" he added sarcastically.

Kakashi lowered his book slightly and frowned, actually doing the mental math in his head. "Hmm. A century."

Sasuke blinked, thinking he'd misheard. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"How is that even possible? Why are his reserves that massive?"

"Let's just say Naruto's one giant mystery wrapped in metal armor."

Sasuke scowled, arms crossed, the familiar irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "Chakra reserves aren't everything. I can still beat him."

Kakashi chuckled lightly, his one visible eye curving in amusement. "I admire the confidence, but you won't beat him by copying his swordsmanship."

Sasuke sighed, a touch of frustration seeping into his tone. He didn't want to admit it, but Kakashi was right. "I know," he muttered, kicking at a loose rock. "Copying physical movements with the Sharingan isn't as amazing as people think. I can mimic the moves, sure, but I don't understand the purpose behind them. Without that understanding, they're just… empty gestures."

Kakashi nodded, his eye crinkling in approval. "Exactly. The Sharingan can copy the 'how,' but without the 'why,' you're just swinging a sword without meaning. Swordsmanship isn't just about movements—it's about intent, timing, and experience. It's the same reason why not every Uchiha is called the Copy Ninja."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. You're special."

"I try," Kakashi said with a wink, earning a huff from Sasuke.

As the tension settled, Sasuke's eyes wandered down to the book resting in his hands: The History of Fire Style Techniques. He traced the edge of the page with his finger, his mind working through the details he'd pieced together.

"Why are you reading that, by the way?"

"I'm trying to figure out exactly what Naruto's fire style is. It's weird. My Sharingan couldn't copy it at all, and that shouldn't be possible. But I think I found something."

"Oh?" Kakashi's tone shifted, intrigued. "Enlighten me."

"Scorch Release," Sasuke said, tapping the page where the term was written. "It fits. Naruto's fire jutsu doesn't rely on exhaling fire or mixing it with external oxygen. It's like he's heating the air directly around him. That's a hallmark of Scorch Release—a combination of wind and fire chakra."

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully as Sasuke's theory lingered in the air. Scorch Release. On the surface, it made sense. The way Naruto's fire jutsu behaved—the heatless bursts of flames and the compressed orbs that detonated with overwhelming force—it fit the general characteristics of Scorch Release. But there was a problem. A glaring one.

Naruto's chakra nature was wind.

Can a chakra nature test fail to detect an elemental Kekkei Genkai? Kakashi tapped his finger against the book's edge, mulling over the possibilities. In two days, he would have to deliver a report on Team 7's progress to the Third Hokage. Maybe he'd mention Sasuke's theory, even if it felt incomplete. The theory wasn't impossible. But it wasn't satisfying, either.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Because the pieces didn't fit.

Neither Minato-sensei nor Kushina had ever shown signs of Scorch Release. If Naruto had inherited it, it couldn't have come from them. Which left only one plausible source. The Kyuubi. Tailed beasts were known to grant their Jinchūriki strange abilities, after all. Unique Kekkei Genkai weren't outside the realm of possibility.

But there was still something wrong with that theory too.

Both Kushina and Mito Uzumaki had been Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails. Neither had displayed anything like this. No enhanced fire techniques, no Scorch Release—nothing that could explain what Naruto was doing. The only difference, Kakashi realized, was that neither Kushina nor Mito had been Jinchūriki from birth.

Could that be the key?

He closed the book with a soft snap. The thought gnawed at him. Maybe the Kyuubi's influence on Naruto had been different from the start—its chakra seeping into his development, altering things at a fundamental level. But if that were true, what other changes had taken place inside the boy? Could the seal itself be affecting the way Naruto accessed his chakra? Could there be other dormant abilities waiting to surface?

If anyone had the answers, it would be the Third Hokage. Or Jiraiya-sama. If the man ever stops chasing inspiration for his novels.

Kakashi sighed, tilting his head toward the sky. The moon hung high above, casting its pale light over the village. The breeze rustled the leaves gently, carrying the cool scent of night.

Minato-sensei, Kakashi thought, you didn't just leave behind a legacy—you left behind a mystery wrapped in metal. And I'm still not sure if I should be proud or worried.

But Kakashi knew one thing for certain. Whatever lay ahead for Naruto, whether it was a Kekkei Genkai, the Kyuubi's influence, or something entirely new, he would be there to guide him. Because if there was one thing his sensei had taught him, it was that the future of Konoha didn't rest on bloodlines or power.

It rested on the bonds they forged.

----------------------------------------

Shimura Danzo sat behind his desk, the cold air of the underground room pressing against his skin like an old companion. His fingers traced the edges of the report, Fu's handwriting precise, mechanical—just as it should be. But today, even perfection did little to calm the storm of calculation swirling within him.

The first report alone was enough to warrant concern.

Naruto Uzumaki's erratic space-time fluctuations had disrupted Danzo's carefully woven web of observation. Fu had masked them well, as expected of his most capable agent, but the mere existence of such anomalies left an unpleasant sensation crawling along Danzo's spine. Space-time ninjutsu was dangerous. Unstable. And instability was something he did not allow.

Did Naruto know about Root's surveillance? Was this a signal to an external ally or a warning aimed directly at him? Was the boy testing his response, hinting that he saw the hawk circling overhead?

Danzo ordered the immediate retraction of several agents from close observation. If this was a trap, he would not walk into it.

But it was the second report that required far deeper dissection.

Naruto created life.

Wood Release had done it before—forests surging to life under the First Hokage's will. But Fu's report wasn't speaking of vegetation or chakra constructs. No. This was something alive. Sentient.

Danzo pressed his fingers together, his gaze sharp. "Agent Fu," he said, his voice measured, slicing through the air like a blade. "Explain the events that led to this conclusion."

Fu stood rigidly before him, posture perfect, his response immediate. His words were devoid of hesitation, as they should be.

"At approximately 1300 hours Konoha standard time, I detected a significant spike in Naruto Uzumaki's chakra. Upon investigation, I found that Kakashi Hatake was testing his elemental affinity. Wind nature was confirmed."

Wind, Danzo thought. Under his guidance, Naruto could easily become a wind-style master. But for now, he remained focused on Fu's report.

"Continue."

Fu's voice remained steady, though Danzo noted the subtle shift in his breathing—shortened, controlled.

"After the nature test, Naruto relocated to a hidden area on the Hokage Monument. I observed a sudden burst of chakra far beyond typical genin output. The chakra did not manifest into any visible jutsu. Instead…" Fu hesitated, the briefest pause before continuing. "The chakra was burned away entirely. There was nothing left. No residual traces—no nature energy. Just a void."

Danzo's eyes narrowed slightly. A void that burned away chakra without leaving traces was already concerning. But there was more, and he could sense it. "And the void itself?"

"It was alive," Fu said, his voice mechanical, as if repeating something his mind could barely grasp. "Not alive in the way plants or animals are. It didn't breathe, didn't pulse like chakra constructs do. But it wasn't empty. The void was life. It carried intent. My senses perceived it as something aware—aware of me, of the surroundings. It resisted observation, like it knew it was being watched. For a few seconds, it lingered, and then…" Fu's hands were clasped behind his back, but Danzo noted the slightest tension in his posture. "It collapsed, disappearing completely."

Danzo observed him closely.

This wasn't fear of the unknown. This was recognition of something beyond comprehension.

"And the barrier?"

"It burned a hole through the barrier system. My team detected the disturbance. However, I neutralized the situation immediately. I erased their memories and destroyed all documentation related to the event."

Efficient, as expected. Danzo gave a slight nod. "But you allowed this anomaly to affect you."

Fu's expression remained blank, his response automatic. "Apologies, Lord Danzo. I will reinforce my mental conditioning and ensure it does not happen again."

"You will," Danzo said. "Because failure will not be tolerated."

"Yes, Lord Danzo." Fu bowed deeply before turning and leaving, his footsteps fading into the silence of the underground corridors.

Once the room was empty, Danzo leaned back and let his thoughts unfurl.

Naruto Uzumaki. The boy was proving to be far more than Danzo had initially calculated. He had intended to shape him—break him down and rebuild him into a perfect weapon for Konoha. But this development required immediate reassessment.

The First Hokage had altered the course of history with his ability to grow and command nature itself. But Naruto's ability to create life—life that didn't grow, but instead seemed to manifest from an unnatural genesis—was something far more dangerous. Danzo doubted the boy even understood the magnitude of what he had done.

But Danzo did.

Hiruzen would be blind to this. Trapped by sentimentality, the old fool would continue to see Naruto as a mere jinchūriki—a vessel for the Nine-Tails, nothing more. That blindness had always been Hiruzen's weakness. Danzo would act before the Third Hokage even realized what was unfolding.

What are you playing at, Uzumaki? Was this a subconscious appeal, an attempt to prove his worth to the only man in Konoha who could offer him what he sought? Or was he simply fumbling through a power far beyond his comprehension?

No matter. Danzo would provide what Hiruzen had failed to—structure, answers, and purpose.

In return, Naruto Uzumaki would become the future of this village. His power would not go to waste. Danzo would mold him into the sharpest blade Konoha had ever wielded.

Danzo allowed himself a small, calculated smile as the plan solidified in his mind.

Perhaps I should give the boy a wind jutsu. Just enough to see what he would do with it. Because when you can create life, Uzumaki, the world either bends to you—or breaks beneath your will.

----------------------------------------

Yakiniku Q was everything Naruto imagined it would be—and more. The warm glow of lanterns lit the interior, creating a cozy, inviting atmosphere. The air was filled with the mouthwatering scent of sizzling meat, and the low hum of chatter and laughter from other diners made the place feel alive. Each table had its own small grill in the center, and Naruto's eyes darted to the menu on the wall, overwhelmed by the sheer variety of options.

"Wow…" Naruto whispered, practically drooling. "There's so much meat… I don't even know where to start."

"Ever been to a yakiniku restaurant before?"

"No, sir. This is my first time."

"Well, then," Asuma said, sitting down, "let me give you a quick rundown. You pick your meats, grill them right here at the table, and enjoy. It's simple."

"That sounds amazing."

Asuma leaned back, glancing at the menu. "Any idea what you want to try first?"

Naruto scanned the options, his face scrunching up when he spotted something. "Wait… salted beef tongue? People eat tongues? That's gross!"

"It's a delicacy, kid. You should give it a shot."

"No way!" Naruto said, crossing his arms. "I'm sticking to the normal stuff. You know, like beef and chicken. Not tongues."

"Suit yourself. More for me."

Naruto leaned closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Okay, but… do you actually like it?"

"It's not bad. Has a bit of a chewy texture, but the flavor's worth it."

Naruto made a face. "Yeah, no thanks. I'll take your word for it."

The two of them continued their back-and-forth, with Asuma pointing out different items on the menu and Naruto reacting with a mix of awe and disgust.

"All right, team," Asuma said, standing up suddenly. "I've gotta hit the bathroom. Don't start grilling without me."

"You got it, bearded sensei!"

"I thought we agreed you'd stop calling me that."

"Not until you teach me something really cool!"

Naruto watched as Asuma disappeared into the distance, leaving him alone at the table with Team 10. The air felt heavy—tension thick enough to cut with a kunai. The three of them—Shikamaru, Choji, and Ino—barely glanced at him, their focus fixed anywhere but on Naruto. It wasn't just awkward—it was hostile.

Naruto's hand tightened around the menu as he forced a grin. "So... what should I order?" he asked, trying to break the silence. He waved the menu toward Choji. "Got any recommendations?"

"Nothing!"

Naruto frowned, his smile faltering. He turned to Shikamaru, who looked like he was seconds away from falling asleep. "What about you, Shika? You guys come here often?"

"Sometimes."

"Hey, Ino, have you been putting on some weight?" Naruto teased, smirking, hoping to at least get a reaction out of her.

Ino's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing into a glare, but she quickly composed herself and buried her face deeper into her magazine, ignoring him again.

Naruto's smirk vanished as the tension finally got under his skin. It reminded him too much of how people used to treat him when he was a kid—like he wasn't even there. The laughter, the warmth he had started to experience with his team? Completely absent. His fingers curled into a fist.

"Alright, what's your problem?" he snapped, glaring at all three of them. "What, was Kiba your best friend or something? If you've got something to say, say it to my face!"

The trio exchanged quick glances, their unease palpable. Finally, Choji slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his chair screeching against the floor.

"Fine!" Choji barked, his voice shaking but firm. "I'll say it—I'm not scared of you!"

Naruto blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"I'm not scared of you, alright? But you think blasting us with your killer intent is no big deal?!" Choji's face was red now.

"Killer intent? What are you talking about? What's killer intent?"

Shikamaru opened one eye, his gaze sharp. "Don't play dumb. You seriously don't know what it is?"

"No, I don't!" Naruto snapped back, looking genuinely confused. "What even is killer intent?"

"Killer intent is when you've killed people," Ino explained. "Like, a lot of people. It leaves a trace on your chakra—yin chakra, specifically. When you release it, it's like a warning to everyone around you, telling them you're dangerous. People can feel it, even if they don't know why."

Naruto blinked, his mind racing. "Why does killing leave a trace?"

Ino shrugged. "Nobody knows for sure, but there's a theory that it's like... the soul of the people you've killed leaves a mark on your chakra, almost like a scar. It builds up over time, and if you've killed enough, your chakra carries this weight—this feeling of death. It can make people freeze up or see things that aren't there."

Naruto froze as the pieces fell into place. The countless souls he'd absorbed in Lordran, the endless enemies he'd fought and defeated. Was that why...?

"I have killer intent," he muttered to himself, almost in awe.

"Yeah, no kidding."

Naruto's awe quickly turned into excitement. "Wait, so what can you do with killer intent? Like, can I use it in a fight? Does it have special moves or something?"

Shikamaru groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't some kind of technique, Naruto. It's not a toy. It's a warning system, a side effect of killing. It's not supposed to be something you use."

"Wait, when did I even use it?"

"Graduation day," Choji said. "When you yelled at Kiba. Everyone in the room felt it. It was... terrifying."

Naruto felt his stomach drop. "What do you mean, terrifying?"

The trio hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances before Ino finally nodded and spoke.

"Killer intent has different stages, Naruto. My dad explained it once. The higher the stage, the more dangerous the ninja. The first stage is Kiken Satsui—a sense of danger that radiates from their aura, making your instincts scream that something is wrong. The second stage is Mōsō Satsui, where a ninja's chakra can trigger vivid hallucinations and warp reality around their enemies. The final stage is Shi no Satsui—killer intent so intense, it tricks your mind and body into believing you're dying. Only monsters in human form reach that level."

"What... what level was mine?"

Ino hesitated before answering. "It was the first level—Kiken Satsui."

Naruto paused, his mind racing as he pieced it together. Back when he fought Kiba, he hadn't realized the importance of absorbing souls or how they could enhance his presence and power. At that time, his killer intent had been enough to paralyze the entire class, making them feel like they were facing the terror of the Asylum Demon without fully manifesting its image. But now... now he had absorbed thousands of souls.

He clenched his fists. What was his killer intent like now? Had it evolved? Could he have already reached the final stage of Shi no Satsui without realizing it? And if so... could he push beyond even that?

But that wasn't what was important right now.

Naruto stared at Team 10, his throat dry as guilt clawed at his chest. Honestly, at this point, he had thought Sakura's attitude shift, the silence of the class, and the way people had seemed to stay out of his way were because he had shown everyone that Kiba was no match for him. He thought it had been his strength, his defiance, that had made them respect him—or at least leave him alone. But now? Now he couldn't help but wonder... how much of that was because of the killer intent?

Were Sakura and Sasuke affected too? The question churned in his stomach like a lead weight.

"I..." Naruto's voice wavered as he stared at the table. "I didn't know," he whispered, barely audible, his eyes darting between Choji, Shikamaru, and Ino. "I didn't even know what I was doing. I just... I just wanted Kiba to shut up. He insulted my dead master, and I got angry, and..."

No matter how much he tried to explain it, Naruto couldn't shake the truth—intentional or not, the damage was done. Shame crept over him, heavy and suffocating, until he could no longer meet their eyes. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his actions.

"This isn't the way of a knight," he muttered to himself, his voice cracking. "Oscar would be ashamed of me."

He clenched his fists, remembering the words of his fallen mentor: Precept the Third: A knight's duty is to protect the innocent, to inspire trust, not fear, to fight with honor, and to uphold justice.

Suddenly, the waitress approached, her notepad in hand. "Have you all decided—" she began but stopped mid-sentence, her eyes falling on Naruto. She froze in place.

Naruto glanced up and immediately saw the look on her face—nervous, guarded, and brimming with discomfort. It wasn't the look of someone dealing with a prankster. No, this was deeper. The look of someone who knew exactly who he was.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said hesitantly, taking a small step back. "But... I think it'd be better if you left."

The words sent a jolt through Team 10 as Choji's eyes widened, Ino froze, and Shikamaru narrowed his gaze.

Naruto exhaled softly. He could've made a scene. He could've been so petty about this. He could've summoned clones to eat all the food or caused a ruckus just to show her the consequences of messing with him. But what would be the point? He didn't need to ruin the night for Team 10; he had already caused enough trouble.

"I'll leave," Naruto said, forcing a tight, practiced smile. His voice was calm, almost unnaturally so. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

The waitress hesitated, blinking nervously, then nodded quickly. "I'll... I'll get you three some water," she stammered before walking away as fast as she could, practically tripping over herself.

Naruto could feel Team 10's eyes burning into him. He sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Look..." he began, his voice low. "It was never my intention to release my killer intent. I honestly didn't even know about it until today." He chuckled weakly, though it was bitter and hollow. "I know the experience was scary. You don't need to tell me twice."

Shikamaru didn't respond. He just continued to study Naruto with that sharp, calculating gaze that always seemed to cut right through him. It made Naruto shift uncomfortably.

Naruto rubbed the back of his head, the forced smile fading. "I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice heavy with sincerity. "That's all I can say. I... I didn't mean to scare anyone."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Naruto exhaled, his hands slipping into his pockets as he avoided their gazes. "You know what? I don't think I'm all that hungry after all." He forced a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But, uh, thanks for letting me tag along. Tell Asuma-sensei it was nice to get out for a bit."

He paused, his expression flickering for a moment, like he wanted to say more but thought better of it. "Anyway... I'll see you guys tomorrow."

With that, he vanished in a flicker of movement, the faint hum of Shunshin no Jutsu the only thing left behind.

----------------------------------------

Silence settled over the table, awkward and heavy.

"Ino, Shika..." Choji finally spoke, breaking the quiet. His voice was unsure, but he couldn't keep the guilt out of it. He wasn't the sharpest of the group, but he knew something didn't sit right about how things had gone. "What do you guys think?"

"I think..." Ino started, trailing off as she stared at the empty spot where Naruto had been sitting. "I think Naruto's telling the truth."

Choji tilted his head, and Shikamaru's sharp eyes flicked toward her, curious. Ino tapped a finger against the table. "Look, what do we really know about Naruto? He's an orphan, he loves ramen, and he wants to be Hokage. That's about it, right? If this Oscar guy was someone important to him—someone who gave him that weird armor, someone who maybe believed in him—and he died recently? Then yeah, Naruto has every right to be angry. I mean, wouldn't you lash out if someone insulted someone you cared about, especially if you were still mourning them?"

Her expression softened just a little. "Naruto's loud, yeah, and kind of a spaz, but he's not a liar. That anger we saw during graduation day? That was real. His chakra probably flared out because he was pissed. And that killer intent? It wasn't something he meant to do—it's just something that happened because of his emotions. We act like he's some huge mystery, but maybe it's not that complicated. He's a kid who's been through a lot, and he's trying to hold it together."

Shikamaru was quiet, his frown deepening. "That makes sense," he admitted with a yawn. "But it also brings up more questions." He reached for the napkin with Naruto's doodle on it and stared at the rough drawing of the Asylum Demon. "Why does he even have killer intent? Who the hell is Oscar? And what's the deal with that armor?"

Ino's eyes narrowed, and she jabbed a finger at Shikamaru's chest. "None of that is any of our business, Shika. Just because we're curious doesn't mean we're entitled to answers. If Naruto wanted us to know, he'd tell us."

"I know, I know. Doesn't mean it's not a drag, though."

"Should we... apologize?"

Both Ino and Shikamaru looked at Choji.

"I mean... I feel bad about how I acted. It wasn't right."

Before anyone could respond, the waitress approached the table, her notepad in hand and her voice overly cheerful. "Are you three ready to order?"

Ino turned her sharp gaze on the woman. "Why did you kick out Naruto?"

The waitress froze, her smile faltering for just a moment before she quickly covered it up. "Oh, hahaha! Well, you know how that boy is—always pulling pranks. We didn't want a troublemaker causing issues for our other customers."

"That's a lie," Shikamaru said, his lazy tone making it all the more cutting.

"Your hands are shaking," Ino said coolly. "Your voice cracked on the word 'pranks,' and you're sweating like you're about to be interrogated by ANBU. You're lying."

The waitress's friendly facade cracked. Her expression turned sour as she snapped, "Look, either order or leave."

"Oh, gladly," Ino said, standing up abruptly. She raised her voice just enough to be heard by the other patrons. "I'd rather starve than eat at a restaurant that discriminates against an honest, hardworking shinobi of Konoha."

Her words rang out, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the restaurant. A few people even whispered among themselves, casting curious glances at the waitress. Ino gave the woman one last scathing look before turning and walking out with her head held high.

Choji, however, stayed seated. He cleared his throat and said, "I'll have the deluxe wagyu beef platter, the premium pork ribs, the dragon cut steak, and some of those golden sirloin slices. Oh, and the house special dipping sauce. And two large plates of grilled vegetables. And the lobster set. Also, do you have dessert? I'll take the mochi ice cream. Two orders."

"One large soup," Shikamaru said casually.

The waitress blinked, her pen hovering over the notepad. "Uh... those are some of the most expensive items on the menu..."

Choji leaned forward with a grin that was equal parts innocent and unapologetic. "Perfect. I'm starving."

The waitress hesitated for a moment before sighing and scribbling down the order, muttering something under her breath as she hurried off.

"You know someone's gotta pay for all that, right?"

"Yeah," Choji said, his expression surprisingly serious. "That's the point."

"So, this is your way of apologizing to Naruto? Ordering the most expensive stuff so you can share it with him?"

Choji grinned. "Yep. Food makes everything better."

Shikamaru shook his head, though he couldn't help the small smirk tugging at his lips. "Alright, I've got a plan for the bill and you are going to get hurt."

"I hate you already, but... fine. Let's do it."

The waitress returned with a precariously stacked tray, her expression a forced mix of politeness and barely concealed annoyance. On the tray were plates of premium wagyu beef, golden pork ribs, dragon-cut steak, and lobster, each dish glistening with juices and garnishes that screamed expensive. Following behind her was another server carrying even more plates of food. At the very top of the waitress's tray was a steaming bowl of hot soup, its rich aroma wafting through the air.

As she reached the table, Shikamaru's hands twitched in a subtle seal. A shadow darted across the floor unnoticed, creeping up and catching the waitress's shadow just as she bent forward to place the soup on the table.

Shadow Possession Jutsu!

Suddenly, the waitress froze mid-motion. Her body stiffened, and before she realized what was happening, her hand jerked forward. The soup bowl launched from the tray as if yanked by an invisible force, its contents arcing through the air before landing directly on Choji's lap with a loud splatter.

"AAHHHH!" Choji yelped, jumping up from his chair as the scalding hot liquid soaked through his clothes. Steam rose from his pants as the soup dripped onto the floor.

The restaurant fell into shocked silence. All eyes turned toward their table, patrons gaping in horror at the sudden commotion. The waitress's face went pale as her tray clattered to the ground, dishes scattering everywhere.

Before she could process what had just happened, Shikamaru was on his feet, his kunai pressed lightly but firmly to the side of her neck.

"Care to explain why you just threw boiling soup at my friend?" Shikamaru said, his tone calm but deadly.

"I-I didn't!" the waitress stammered, trembling. "I swear, I didn't mean to! My hand just—"

"Shikamaru," Choji interrupted, grimacing as he used his chakra to cool the burns on his legs. Steam hissed faintly around him. "Let her go. I'm fine."

"Fine?" Shikamaru repeated, not moving his kunai. "You call this fine? You're lucky you could react in time to minimize the damage. What if you couldn't, huh? This isn't something we can just shrug off."

At that moment, the manager, a burly man with a thick mustache and a sharp gaze, pushed through the crowd of onlookers. His dark uniform bore the restaurant's crest, and he radiated the kind of authority that made people step aside. "What's going on here?" he barked, his eyes darting between the trembling waitress and the scene at the table.

"Your waitress just threw a bowl of boiling soup at my teammate. It's only a miracle he was able to use his chakra to protect himself. Without that, we'd be taking him to the hospital right now."

The manager's eyes narrowed, and he turned to the waitress. "Is this true?"

"I didn't mean to!" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't know what happened. My hand just… moved on its own!"

The manager's frown deepened. "That's not good enough. You're responsible for serving the food properly. Do you have any idea what could have happened if he wasn't a ninja?"

"I— I'm sorry! It won't happen again!" she said, bowing so deeply it seemed like she might fall over.

"It better not," the manager growled, before turning back to Shikamaru and Choji. "On behalf of the restaurant, I sincerely apologize for this incident. We'll, uh... we'll cover your meal tonight, free of charge."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, his sharp eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Free of charge, huh?" He gestured toward the spread of food on the table. "You might want to take another look at the bill before you make that offer."

The manager's gaze flicked to the food, and for the first time, a flicker of regret crossed his face. He clearly hadn't noticed how extravagant their order was. "Ah... well..."

Still, he straightened, though his jaw tightened slightly. "It doesn't matter. The restaurant will honor my word. But this," he turned to glare at the waitress, "is coming out of your paycheck."

The waitress flinched, looking even more distraught. "Please, sir, I—"

"No excuses," the manager snapped. "Now get these gentlemen some towels and to-go boxes for their food."

Shikamaru gave a faint smirk, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. "Towels would be nice. And make sure they're clean."

The manager's face twitched, but he nodded stiffly. "Of course. Right away."

As the waitress scurried off, the manager turned back to Shikamaru and Choji. "Again, my sincerest apologies. This isn't how we run things here."

"Just get the food packed up. And maybe throw in an extra dessert for the trouble."

The manager twitched again but forced a tight smile. "We'll... see what we can do."

----------------------------------------

Shikamaru and Choji hurried down the street, catching sight of Ino waiting at the corner, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently.

"Took you two long enough."

Choji was halfway through a cheesecake slice, his cheeks puffed out with food. "Hey, I had to refuel."

"Whatever. We've got to find Naruto and fix this mess."

"Where do you think he'd go?"

"Ichiraku Ramen, obviously," both Ino and Shikamaru said at the same time.

The trio quickly made their way to the small ramen stand, the comforting scent of broth and noodles wafting toward them. Teuchi greeted them with a warm smile from behind the counter.

"Welcome to my humble ramen shop, kids. What can I get you three today?"

Naruto, who was sitting at the counter with a half-eaten bowl of miso ramen, turned to face them. "What are you guys doing here? Shouldn't you be at Yakiniku Q?"

Choji didn't hesitate. He marched straight up to the counter, carefully placed the takeout boxes down, and gave a deep bow.

"I'm sorry."

Naruto blinked. "Sorry for what?"

"For being rude to you all day," Choji said, his voice sincere. "I was being a… vegetable."

Naruto, Teuchi, and Ayame all tilted their heads in unison. "Vegetable?" they echoed, confused.

"Choji doesn't like vegetables," Ino clarified. "He means he was being stubborn. And not just him. We're all here to apologize for the misunderstanding."

"Yeah, it was troublesome, but… we are sorry."

"It's nice that you kids made up, but what's with the boxes?" Teuchi asked.

Choji straightened up, smiling sheepishly as he opened one of the boxes.

"I thought if I was going to apologize, I'd do it right. So, let's eat and forgive, yeah?"

Teuchi let out an appreciative whistle. "Now that is some premium beef!"

"Well, there's plenty to go around," Ino said quickly, nudging Choji in the side before he could protest sharing.

"Ayame, bring out my grill!"

"You got it, Dad!" Ayame called, disappearing into the back.

----------------------------------------

The garden was a modest space, surrounded by a simple wooden fence that gave it a cozy, enclosed feel. A few lanterns hung from posts, casting warm light over the small stone path that led to a patch of neatly trimmed grass. Some potted herbs and vegetables lined the edges.

"It's not much," Teuchi said, carrying out a couple of folding chairs and placing them around the grill, "but it's perfect for nights like this." He returned to the kitchen, muttering something about grabbing plates and bowls.

Meanwhile, Ayame was crouched near the grill, carefully arranging charcoal in a neat pile. She pulled out a lighter, trying to ignite the flame with short, precise clicks.

The group settled in as Ayame worked.

Naruto opened his box, his eyes sparkling at the sight of the meat. "This must've cost a fortune," he said, glancing at the others.

"Well," Ino said, "we taught that waitress and restaurant a lesson and worked some magic."

"Thanks… for sticking up for me."

"Do you know why the waitress was like that to you?"

"No."

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed, reading between the lines. "No? Or you just don't want to say?"

"I don't want to say."

"Naruto," Ayame interjected, her voice tinged with anger as she spun toward him. "What happened?!" Her eyes were sharp, protective, like an older sister ready to go to war on his behalf.

"Nothing happened, Ayame Neechan."

"Nothing?!"

"Seriously, it's nothing. Let it go."

Teuchi, who had been arranging the plates and bringing out some side dishes, glanced at Ayame and gave a subtle shake of his head. She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line, before turning back to the grill with a muttered, "Fine. But this isn't over."

Shikamaru's gaze lingered on Naruto. He could see the tension in the way Naruto's shoulders were stiff, the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He sighed internally. If Naruto wasn't going to talk about something even Teuchi and Ayame seemed to know, then there was no way he'd open up about anything deeper—like the mysterious "Oscar" or that strange, shining armor.

Ino watched the interaction closely, filing it away. "You're lucky you've got Ayame Neechan looking out for you," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. "I'd be more worried about her than me."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep that in mind."

Shikamaru said nothing, but his mind was still turning, piecing together the fragments of information. Answers would come in time, he figured. For now, he let it go.

Ino, however, wasn't so easily deterred. She leaned closer, her tone flirtatious. "Oh, come on, Naruto. You can tell me. I'm good at keeping secrets."

Naruto gave her a flat look. "Didn't I just say no?"

Ayame chuckled from the side, carefully tending to the grill as the charcoal finally started to catch. She used a small paper fan to coax the flames. "Oh, Naruto, looks like a pretty girl wants some answers from you."

Ino's face turned beet red as her composure shattered. "What?! I wasn't—! I mean, I didn't—!" She stumbled over her words, flustered, while waving her hands defensively.

"Where? Who?"

Ino groaned loudly, burying her face in her hands. "You idiot!"

"So, is this the last time you try playing matchmaker?"

"Shut up, Shika!"

Ayame just waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, blame me later. Seriously, the day this kid figures out when a girl's interested in him will be the day the sun rises in the west."

Meanwhile, Shikamaru and Choji exchanged a knowing look, both smirking slightly. Ino had clearly planned to tease Naruto, but now it had completely backfired, leaving her red-faced and flustered.

"This is taking too long," Choji muttered, eyeing the raw meat hungrily.

"I've got a better idea."

He removed one of his gauntlets, revealing the faintly glowing red of his Pyromancy Flame. With a flick of his wrist, the flame burst to life in his palm, its warmth lighting up the small garden.

"Whoa!"

"Relax," Naruto said with a grin. "I've got this."

Choji, inspired, grabbed a piece of beef and held it over Naruto's flaming hand like a skewer. The two boys exchanged a mischievous look before Naruto turned his hand slightly, cooking the meat evenly on all sides.

"Gross," Ino said, wrinkling her nose.

"Absolutely disgusting," Ayame agreed, fanning the grill to speed up its ignition while glaring at the two.

"Hey, it works!" Naruto said, popping a perfectly cooked slice of beef into his mouth.

Choji nodded enthusiastically. "And it tastes amazing!"

"And I think this will taste amazing with some ramen! Teuchi-ojisan!"

Teuchi, wiping his hands on a towel, gave him a raised eyebrow and a smile. "You want to put this on your free ramen coupon?"

"Yup!"

"Wait," Choji interrupted. "You have a free ramen coupon?"

"Yeah," Naruto replied nonchalantly. "I got it as a prize for becoming a ninja."

Choji's jaw practically hit the floor. His voice trembled with sincerity as he blurted out, "Wanna be friends?!"

Naruto's grin only grew wider. "Best friends."

Without missing a beat, the two clasped hands mid-air and transitioned into a perfectly choreographed dab, their heads tilting down as their free arms extended dramatically. The movement was so in sync, it might as well have been rehearsed, and the small garden seemed to freeze for a second in reverence of their newfound bond.

Ino groaned. "Boys are so stupid."

Meanwhile, Ayame stood in stunned silence. "…Is this what friendship looks like now?"

Teuchi chuckled, shaking his head as he went to grab the ramen bowls. "Let the kids have their moment."

Shikamaru gazed upon the night sky with a rare smile on his face. The food, the company—it had turned out to be a pretty good night. Still, there was this nagging feeling, like he was forgetting something important.

----------------------------------------

Meanwhile, back at Yakiniku Q...

Asuma strolled back to the table, drying his hands on his pants. "Sorry I took so long—some kid clogged the toilet with napkins. Anyway, let's dig in!"

He looked up, expecting to see his team eagerly waiting for him. Instead, there was nothing. No Choji. No Ino. No Shikamaru. No Naruto. Just... an empty table.

He blinked, his hand pausing mid-dry.

"Where did everyone go? Hmm, I'm sure they'll be back any minute now…" Asuma muttered, leaning casually against the table as he glanced around the empty restaurant.

He waited. Five minutes turned into fifteen. Then thirty. Then an hour.

"Any minute now."

"Uh, sir… it's closing time."