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At noon, the five-member clique—Naruto, Shikamaru, Choji, Kiba, and Shino—wordlessly navigated the Academy corridors to the rooftop. With its panoramic views and the steady warmth of the midday sun, it had become their newly discovered strategic sanctuary.
Naruto unzipped his backpack, retrieving a neat stack of bento boxes he had prepared that morning with the precision of a master chef. The others, moving with practiced coordination, fished out their wallets and handed Naruto a set amount of ryo. It had become a routine born of mutual benefit: Naruto provided the culinary genius, and the others funded the high-quality ingredients.
"Naruto's cooking is on a different level. I've been smelling this in my head since the first bell," Choji said, his gaze fixed longingly on the boxes. He swallowed hard and, unable to restrain his appetite any longer, reached for the top container.
Clack.
Naruto flicked his chopsticks, lightly parrying Choji's hand with clinical timing. "Patience, Choji. That one's mine. Your 'Special Operations' portion is right here."
He reached deeper into his pack and produced a massive, reinforced bento box—two or three times the standard size—and solemnly presented it.
Seeing Choji's face light up with pure, unadulterated joy, Naruto added matter-of-factly, "You contributed the largest share of the budget, so you receive the largest share of the protein. It's only logical."
Shikamaru, lounging against a vent, let out a lazy drawl. "Geez, even lunch has to be governed by logic... what a drag." Despite the complaint, his hand didn't slow for a second as he claimed his own box. How does this guy find the time to cook like this? he wondered silently.
Kiba, watching Choji dive into the mountain of food, looked visibly envious. He dug into his pocket, pulled out a handful of coins, and stuffed them into Naruto's hand.
"Here, Naruto! Consider this an advance payment!" Kiba's voice was as loud as ever, but his expression had sharpened. "The clan is going to start my specialized training soon. I'll be assigned my ninken—my true partner. When that happens, I need you to prep a meal for him too. High-protein, stamina-boosting, the works!"
He could already see it: he and his future hound, feasting like kings. Slapping Naruto's shoulder, Kiba grinned fiercely. "Just you wait, Naruto! Once me and my dog are in sync, we're taking you down for sure!"
"I'll be waiting," Naruto replied with a confident grin.
The rooftop door suddenly burst open with a violent bang, and a green whirlwind strode in. "NARUTO! LET'S GO—"
Might Guy had intended to whisk Naruto away for a bowl of Ichiraku Ramen, but he froze mid-sentence. A rich, complex aroma—a fusion of spices and perfectly seared meat—hit him like a physical blow.
"...That smells incredible!" Guy's gaze locked onto the bento boxes.
Naruto looked up, a hint of apology in his blue eyes. "Sorry, Guy-sensei. I didn't realize you'd be on campus for lunch, so I didn't prepare an extra portion. If you don't mind, please, have mine."
"No, no! I've already eaten, Naruto!" Guy shook his head so hard his bowl cut blurred. He swallowed hard, his stomach let out a treacherous growl that he tried to mask with a cough. A true shinobi had to maintain his dignity before his students. "I am a fortress of discipline!"
Forcing his eyes away from the food, Guy lowered his voice, his expression turning serious. "I'm only substituting here for a month. I've made a decision, Naruto. I'm going to talk Kakashi out of his current path. I'll convince him to delay his team assignment."
His face lit up with an infectious glow of anticipation. "When your class finally graduates, I want the two of us to lead the squads of this intake together. It will be a legendary feast of youth!"
Originally, the Sandaime had wanted Guy to convince Kakashi to join the instructor program immediately. But Guy had recalibrated. After seeing Naruto's potential, he wanted to be there when the boy officially entered the shinobi world. He would wait for this specific class, ensuring that he and his eternal rival, Kakashi, would emerge from the shadows of the Anbu together to mentor the new generation.
"...That works for me," Naruto thought. In his assessment, Guy was a far more reliable pillar of strength than Kakashi anyway. Whether it was the impending threat of the Akatsuki or the chaos of the Great War, Might Guy was the man who could flip the board with a single kick. The only problem is Obito's intangibility, Naruto noted inwardly. A hard target to hit, even for Guy-sensei.
With Guy departing in his usual flurry of energy, the group relaxed once more. But the silence didn't last. The door creaked open a second time.
The five friends turned in unison to see Uchiha Sasuke standing there, clutching an elegant, high-end bento box. He had been mobbed by a swarm of over-enthusiastic fans downstairs and had sought the rooftop as a quiet refuge, only to find it occupied by the very person who had defeated him that morning.
The sight of the group's easy camaraderie—and the mouth-watering scent of Naruto's cooking—stalled his footsteps. They're eating that well? The thought slipped past his defenses.
"Hey, Sasuke," Naruto called out casually, his tone devoid of any lingering competitive heat. "Looking for a spot to eat?"
Sasuke didn't answer. The warm, harmonious atmosphere felt like an affront to his solitary path, and Naruto's nonchalance felt like a hidden taunt. He pressed his lips into a thin line, turned on his heel, and shut the door behind him.
He would have to find another place to hide.
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