After sending the unconscious Sasuke to the Konoha Hospital and leaving Sakura to watch over him, the rest—Shikamaru, Choji, Kiba, Shino, Ino, and the Hyuga sisters—followed Naruto back to his tiny apartment.
It was only a little past four in the afternoon, not yet five.
Naruto hadn't used much stamina in the earlier fight, so he decided to cook for his friends himself.
Naruto's usually quiet little home had never hosted so many visitors at once; it suddenly felt crowded but lively.
While everyone helped tidy up, Naruto slipped out, deftly used the Transformation Jutsu to change his appearance, and quickly returned with several Folding Chairs so everyone had a seat.
"If you ask me, with so many of us we could've just gone to my family's barbecue place."
As he set a chair by the table, Choji wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and voiced his favorite suggestion.
"Barbecue's too expensive; we can't afford it right now."
Kiba, playing with Akamaru on his lap, didn't even look up. "Most of my allowance has to be saved for Ninja Tools."
"But barbecue tastes great—nothing else matters!"
Choji argued earnestly. "Besides, with Shikamaru, Ino, and me there, we could have Venison Barbecue and barely spend a thing."
He wasn't exaggerating. The Ino–Shika–Chō trio were as close as family.
The Nara Clan mainly dealt in medicinal herbs and deer products, and the Akimichi family often bought venison from them.
If they went, they'd get an insider's discount and pay almost nothing.
"Enough, Choji."
Shikamaru cut him off at the right moment.
"It's rare for Naruto to have time off training and cook dinner for us. And honestly… I think Naruto's cooking tastes even better than the barbecue place."
Shikamaru knew that if they went to Choji's family shop, even with a discount it would still cost something.
For Kiba and Shino, whose clans had larger expenses, and for orphan Naruto, the price could still be a burden and make the others self-conscious.
But coming to Naruto's place was different.
On the way back they'd already bought ingredients for dinner and, without making a show of it, picked up meat and vegetables for Naruto's later meals.
Preparing and sharing food like this put no one under pressure.
It was also on that walk home that Shikamaru, for the first time, saw up close the cruel treatment Naruto endured—things he'd only heard about.
Simply passing certain shops or pedestrians, people would throw Soybeans and salt toward Naruto as if exorcising evil spirits.
They treated him… as if he were a Mountain Demon or Monster. It was astonishing that Naruto, raised in such an environment, could still be so upbeat and willing to trust others. The realization filled Shikamaru with respect and complicated feelings.
At Shikamaru's words, Choji rubbed his round belly and nodded solemnly: "He's right—Naruto's food is really delicious!"
That remark made Ino's eyes flash; she blinked, puzzled. "Wait… so you guys…"
Her finger swept across Shikamaru, Choji, Kiba, Shino, and even the shyly looking Hinata and innocently smiling Hanabi.
"…have all eaten Naruto's cooking?"
Everyone she pointed to nodded in perfect unison.
Ino froze.
Huh?
You've got to be kidding!
Was she… the only one here who'd never tasted Naruto's food?!
A sudden sense of being left out, mixed with fierce curiosity, surged through her.
Kiba grinned at her disbelief. "Since over a month after school started last autumn, the bunch of us—"
He gestured at the small circle. "—pool our money to buy ingredients and ask Naruto to cook lunch. The guy's got serious skills, right, Akamaru?"
"Woof~!"
Little Akamaru tilted his fluffy head and barked in agreement.
Though Akamaru can't speak like Kakashi Hatake's Ninken Pakkun, as a carefully bred nin-dog his intelligence lets him understand plenty of human words and emotions.
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Night at the Nara estate.
Nara Shikaku and his son Shikamaru sat opposite each other on the wooden veranda, a game of Go between them.
The board was as tangled as Shikamaru's thoughts.
An evening breeze carried the scent of grass and leaves, yet it seemed to scatter his concentration.
Noticing his son staring blankly at the board, Shikaku sipped his tea and asked calmly, "What's wrong? You've seemed preoccupied since you got home. Trouble at school, Shikamaru?"
At home with his father, Shikamaru didn't bother hiding. He set down a stone, brow furrowed: "Father… why did the Third Hokage do it?"
"Oh? What makes you say that?"
Shikaku had already guessed, since Shikamaru had said he'd watch Naruto and Sasuke fight in the afternoon and wouldn't need dinner because he was eating with friends. He set down his cup and waited.
"It's about Naruto,"
Shikamaru began. "His blond hair, blue eyes, plus the surname Uzumaki… the only parents I can think of are…"
Just as the name was about to escape him, Shikaku raised a hand in a gentle but absolute gesture, cutting him off.
"Stop, Shikamaru."
His voice was quiet yet carried iron weight, like a slab of cold metal pressing on the air between them.
"Whatever you've guessed, you must never speak it aloud."
He didn't look at his son, as though the realization dawning on Shikamaru's face were something that could burn.
Instead he turned slightly, gaze drifting into the hushed garden wrapped in night.
A breeze stirred the bamboo, rustling softly, but to Shikaku it sounded like a cover for something else.
His eyes were sharp enough to pierce the darkness and sense the countless unseen eyes and unspeakable secrets hiding where moonlight met shadow.