Kushina paused halfway through prepping dinner.
"Minato… do you smell that?"
Minato sniffed lightly. "Yeah. Something fried. And insanely good."
Kushina leaned closer to the window, eyes narrowing.
"That's not normal good. That's dangerous good. Who makes food that smells like this?"
The wind shifted—and the scent sharpened. Crisp oil. Golden batter. Heat rising off perfectly fried shrimp.
Kushina's pupils dilated.
"…I'm going to find the source."
She marched outside, following the trail like a bloodhound. The smell drifted to the right of their home—straight into neighbor territory.
"Minato! Hurry up!" she shouted.
Minato stepped outside, saw where she was pointing, and nodded. "That's Hanyū Yuuma's place."
Kushina remembered him—smart, polite, eerily competent at teaching, blond like Minato but with a gentler vibe.
"Let's visit our neighbor," she declared, already knocking on Yuuma's door.
Inside, Yuuma placed the last tempura shrimp in the bowl, wiped his hands, and opened the door calmly.
"Hanyu! Are you cooking?!"Kushina leaned in like she was about to burglarize his kitchen with her nose.
"Sorry to intrude," Minato said sheepishly.
Yuuma smiled. "You're just in time. I was about to eat."
He invited them inside.
The aroma guided Kushina directly to the dining table. The golden tempura gleamed like a treasure. But then—she noticed something else.
"…Is that fried rice glowing?"
Yuuma poured water for both guests and offered utensils.
"Go ahead. Try it while it's hot."
"Thank you!" Minato said.
"I'm starting!" Kushina announced, clapping her hands.
She picked up a piece of tempura, bit into the crisp shell—
—and froze.
Her eyes widened.
The world dissolved into shimmering blue. She was swimming through a vast ocean, weightless, free, warm currents wrapping around her like a gentle embrace.
She wasn't a human anymore. She was… a fish? A very happy one.
"…What the—?"
Kushina blinked hard, snapping back to reality.
No genjutsu. No chakra disturbance. What she saw was from the flavor alone.
"Hanyu… did you put weird-colored mushrooms in here or something?!"
Yuuma calmly described the cooking process—normal steps, normal ingredients.
Kushina didn't believe a word.
She turned to Minato—only to find him staring blankly at his half-eaten bowl of fried rice.
"Minato! What's wrong?!"
"…Picking wild vegetables," Minato murmured.
"What wild vegetables?!"
He slowly blinked, dazed.
"When I ate the fried rice… I felt like I became a pheasant. Living freely in the mountains…"
Kushina stared at the golden rice grains. Yes. They actually emitted a faint glow.
"This is the best fried rice I've ever tasted," Minato said, scooping more without hesitation.
"You need to try the tempura!" Kushina countered, pushing the plate toward him.
They exchanged dishes.
And both immediately ascended into bliss a second time.
"Hanyu… did you invent some new food ninjutsu?" Kushina asked suspiciously.
"If you ever open a restaurant, please tell me," Minato said solemnly.
Yuuma chuckled softly. "If you like it, come over more often. It's quiet here."
"You don't mind if we intrude? Great! Next time, Minato and I will cook for you too!" Kushina said, delighted.
Yuuma nodded. "I'll look forward to it."
After the couple left, Yuuma exhaled.
The Chef skill is absurd.He almost had Minato and Kushina ready to eat each other's meals off the table.
He went upstairs, grabbed a few sealing books, and placed them downstairs—subtle hints for future conversations.
Tomorrow, the plan would continue.
Saturday — Hokage's House
Obito and Shisui trained like madmen. Yuuma's guidance, plus Asuma's unexpected example, had refilled Obito's determination to the brim.
But now it was tutoring time.
Asuma burst out the moment Yuuma arrived.
"You LIAR!"
Yuuma blinked innocently. "What did I lie about?"
"Your tutoring fee! It's two thousand ryō per hour! But you told me it was twenty-five thousand! I trained until I almost died!"
Yuuma crossed his arms.
"And did you lose twenty-five thousand ryō?"
"I—!"Asuma froze.
"No," Yuuma continued, voice silky and dangerous, "you thought you spent 200,000 ryō. But you actually spent only 16,000. That means you saved 184,000 ryō."
Asuma stopped breathing.
"…Did I… make money?"
"Yes. Congratulations."
A beat of silence.
Asuma's eyes narrowed. "…No. Something feels very wrong about this…"
Yuuma clapped his hands.
"Good. Awareness is the first step. Now—let's begin training."
Asuma groaned in betrayal.
But he followed.
Because he knew the truth:
When Hanyū Yuuma decides you're going to train…You're going to train.