Chapter 131: A Toast for the Three of Us
As always, Pakura remained the calmest among them. Her eyes softened as she looked at the dishes laid out before her, then she glanced at Souta with a gentle, almost affectionate gaze.
A faint smile graced her lips—a rare smile, and precisely because of that rarity, it carried a quiet, deeper warmth. "Then, thank you, Souta. It's been quite a while since the last time we could sit together like this, without the pressure of the Ninja Academy's lessons hanging over us. I'll make sure to enjoy this meal."
Her words were simple, her voice soft, yet the sincerity within each syllable was unmistakable. Souta heard it, and without realizing it, a subtle warmth spread in his chest, as if something fragile yet precious had been stirred within him.
He chuckled lightly, raising his first skewer of ostrich meat with enthusiasm that bordered on childlike excitement. "Let's just say this is the start of our new journey. We've been through a lot together, so let me treat you guys tonight. Don't worry about it."
Though Souta spoke casually, there was a clear note of pride and quiet responsibility woven into his tone. He wanted to affirm his role—not merely as a teammate, but as someone who could shoulder small burdens for the sake of their shared happiness.
Makima, without missing a beat, lifted her skewer high, the motion lively and cheerful, as though she were raising a glass for a toast. "Then let's toast to the three of us! May we grow stronger, tighter as a team, and get to enjoy good food like this more often!"
Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, her expression glowing with genuine joy. The light in Makima's gaze reflected the dancing flames from the grill, and her wide smile seemed contagious, spreading warmth to both Souta and Pakura. Her words rang like an innocent prayer, one born purely out of the moment's happiness.
Pakura nodded, her movements composed yet tender, then lifted her skewer and gently tapped it against Makima's. The sound was soft—barely a tink—but it carried the weight of unspoken trust.
"To the three of us," Pakura said simply, her tone short but full of warmth. That faint smile remained on her face, and her eyes—calm, steady, honest—spoke far more than her words ever could.
Souta followed suit, his grin broad and unrestrained as he raised his own skewer to meet theirs. "To the three of us. Let's keep walking together, no matter how rough the road ahead might be."
His voice carried a faint gravity, a rare seriousness that hinted at determination. It wasn't just a toast—it was a vow. A quiet promise that no matter what lay beyond this peaceful evening, he would never let this bond fade.
Then laughter burst out—gentle, unguarded laughter that mingled with the aroma of roasted meat wafting through the air. The faint smoke rising from the grill danced lazily under the lamplight, shaping brief silhouettes before dissolving into the warm night breeze. Around them, the low hum of other diners and the clinking of cups painted a scene both lively and intimate.
For that brief, precious moment, they were not ninja. Not warriors, not students burdened with expectations or missions. They were simply teenagers—friends sharing food, teasing one another, and building a quiet promise under the soft glow of paper lanterns.
That night would later become one of those small, fleeting memories—an ordinary fragment that time might blur, yet one they would find themselves yearning for, somewhere down the long, uncertain road ahead.
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The next morning, Souta awoke from his sleep. Sunlight slipped through the thin curtains of his apartment window, spilling across his face and tracing warm lines on his cheek still marked by the remnants of drowsiness.
He blinked slowly, inhaling deeply, then rubbed his face as if trying to wipe away the lingering fragments of his dream. The morning air was cool and crisp, carrying a faint dampness from the dew that had yet to evaporate outside.
Souta dragged himself out of bed with sluggish but deliberate movements. The warm sand-colored floor muffled his steps, creating a faint, soft rhythm that broke the silence of the empty room. He stretched lazily, his arms reaching upward, muscles tensing briefly before relaxing, and then made his way toward the bathroom.
He stepped into the shower. Cold water cascaded over him in an instant, jolting his senses awake. Souta drew a sharp breath, exhaling in a sound that hovered between a gasp and a sigh—like a man pulled abruptly from the depths of a long daydream.
Droplets streamed down his tousled hair, tracing the line of his neck and shoulders before falling to the floor with soft, rhythmic splashes. The fresh scent of soap filled the air, blending with the light mist that gradually fogged the mirror.
The small space grew warmer, wrapped in a delicate haze, as if the world outside had momentarily disappeared—leaving only Souta, the sound of water, and the quiet heartbeat of a morning that marked the beginning of something new.
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Chapter 132: Souta Asks Pakura About Her Kekkei Genkai
After finishing his shower, Souta immediately stepped into his room and began dressing. He took a neatly hung blue shirt from behind the wardrobe door and paired it with simple black trousers.
His movements were quick yet precise—carrying the quiet rhythm of someone who lived by discipline, even in mundane moments. As he brushed his damp hair, the mirror reflected a pair of calm, clear eyes—eyes of a man who was quietly weighed down by thoughts far deeper than the simplicity of his morning routine.
Once dressed, Souta began preparing food. One meal for breakfast, another for lunch. He moved toward the small kitchen tucked into the corner of his apartment—a compact space lit by warm golden sunlight streaming through the window, glinting off the cooking utensils and the small dining table.
With practiced steps, Souta turned on the stove, set a pan on it, and poured in a thin layer of oil.
Soon, the soft aroma of frying eggs began to fill the air. The gentle sizzle of oil mingled with the trickling sound of water from the sink, forming a rhythm that belonged to quiet, ordinary mornings.
After finishing his cooking, Souta sat down and began to eat. He took his time, spooning the food slowly as his gaze wandered to the window.
Outside, the sky still carried its tender morning hue—wisps of white clouds drifting lazily between the high-rise buildings. From the distance, faint voices of vendors began to stir, marking the city's gradual return to motion, the daily heartbeat of the world resuming as always.
Once he was done eating and had cleaned the dishes, Souta left his apartment. The door closed softly behind him, leaving a faint trace of breakfast's aroma lingering in the air.
The apartment corridor was still quiet. Only the soft echo of his footsteps could be heard, reverberating lightly along the hallway illuminated by sunlight pouring through the tall glass window at the end.
Just as Souta stepped out, the sound of another door unlocking came from his right. Instinctively, he turned his head—and there she was.
Pakura stood there, her light brownish-green hair cascading to her shoulders, gleaming under the morning light. She wore a simple combat outfit—a thin brown jacket with a silver belt wrapped around her waist. Though her outfit appeared casual, her gaze remained sharp and focused, as always.
"Ready to go?" Souta asked with a small smile, his tone easy and familiar—like someone accustomed to this brief exchange.
"Yes, I'm ready," Pakura replied softly. Her head tilted slightly, and her lips curved into a faint smile—barely visible, yet undeniably warm. The gentle morning breeze stirred a few strands of her hair, brushing lightly against her cheek.
"Then, can you already use your Kekkei Genkai?" Souta asked, curiosity glinting in his eyes. There was genuine interest there—an unfeigned admiration for the rare power the girl possessed.
After all, both Pakura and Makima were, in their own ways, exceptional among the graduates. Why? Because they possessed Kekkei Genkai.
As commonly known, one could have a Kekkei Genkai through inherited bloodline—or through sheer will and mastery, forging one's own unique limit.
Yet for Souta, these two girls were rare exceptions. He understood how almost impossible it was for someone to awaken such a power without even fully understanding the boundaries of their own body.
Kekkei Genkai itself—literally meaning Bloodline Limit—was an anomaly in one's DNA, granting its wielder the ability to perform techniques utterly impossible for ordinary shinobi. It was generally divided into three main categories, each with its own mysteries.
The first was Dōjutsu, or the "Eye Techniques"—unique ocular powers with exceptional perceptive capabilities. Eyes like these could see what normal humans never could—such as the ability to perceive chakra flow, see through solid objects, or even manipulate one's perception of time itself.
Examples included the Sharingan, capable of copying movements and reading opponents' attacks, or the Byakugan, which could pierce walls and reveal chakra networks running through an enemy's body.
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