A profound sense of absurdity welled up inside Kota.
*Are all Academy students these days such freaks?*
Thinking back to his own time at the Academy, let alone taking down a beast of this caliber solo, he would have had to make a wide detour around even a slightly oversized venomous snake.
“I-Is that so?
Haha, you’re really amazing, Aoba…” Kota gave a dry laugh, his movements turning noticeably stiff.
As an upperclassman, discovering he was weaker than an underclassman who hadn’t even graduated left his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
To hide his awkwardness, Kota shifted his focus, locking his eyes onto the roasting meat.
“Um, if you don’t mind, let me take over the grilling,” Kota said, rubbing his hands together.
A professional’s confidence flickered in his eyes.
“I know a thing or two about barbecue.”
Aoba raised an eyebrow at that and handed over the skewers.
Having someone else do the work was fine by him, and when it came to a devotion to food, the Akimichi clan were indeed the true professionals.
The moment Kota took the skewers, his expression grew deadly serious.
His chubby fingers moved with astonishing dexterity—flipping, seasoning, and controlling the flame in one fluid motion, as if performing a sacred ritual.
With someone taking over, Aoba gladly kicked back.
Watching the dancing flames, he picked up a pebble from the ground, rolling it between his fingers as he fell into thought.
Before long, an aroma even richer and more layered than before wafted through the air.
“Try this.” Kota offered a skewer, a look of eager anticipation on his face.
Aoba took a bite, his eyes lighting up slightly.
It really was different.
The fat was perfectly locked inside the meat, creating a crispy exterior that burst with juice on the first bite.
The texture had elevated by more than just a single tier.
“Great technique,” Aoba praised sincerely.
Having earned his approval, Kota chuckled and grabbed a handful of skewers, shoveling them into his mouth.
The stomach of an Akimichi was a bottomless pit; whatever frustration he had felt earlier evaporated in an instant before his appetite.
“Mmm!
This seasoning…”
Kota’s chewing slowed to a crawl.
He knitted his brows, racking his memory.
“This flavor is so familiar…
It’s kind of like…
Wait, no, it’s way more fragrant than that.
But this particular tingling numbness…”
He snapped his head up, staring at the unassuming spice container in Aoba’s hand as a wildly popular restaurant in the village popped into his mind.
“Yamashiro Hot Pot…
Yamashiro?”
A piece of clan intel flashed through his head: rumor had it that the real owner behind that hot pot restaurant was actually just a young kid.
“Are you the owner of Yamashiro Hot Pot?!” Kota blurted out.
Aoba fiddled with the pebble, casually rolling it across his knuckles.
He neither confirmed nor denied it.
“What?
Is the Akimichi clan interested in hot pot, too?”
*That’s basically an admission!*
The shock in Kota’s eyes morphed instantly into sheer adoration.
Possessing this kind of combat strength at his age was absurd enough, but he could also create such mind-blowing hot pot?!
To the Akimichi clan, immense strength didn’t necessarily earn their respect—but someone who could craft pinnacle gourmet food was practically a blood brother from another mother!
“That’s incredible!”
Kota was so worked up that the fat on his cheeks wobbled.
“My cousin pulled clumps of hair out trying to reverse-engineer that spice blend!
He said there were a few medicinal herbs in there he just couldn’t identify at all.
Um…
could you maybe…?”
Mid-sentence, he clamped both hands over his mouth.
A secret recipe was the lifeblood of catering, just like how jutsu were a shinobi’s closely guarded secrets.
“Sorry, sorry!
I just got too curious.” Kota looked thoroughly embarrassed.
To cover his blunder, he took another massive bite of meat.
“As an apology, next time I’ll treat you to barbecue at my family’s restaurant!
My treat!”
“I appreciate the offer.”
Aoba smiled, flicking the pebble away.
“Still, this boar really is a bit massive.
Help me carry it back later.
Of course, until then, eat as much as your stomach can hold.”
“Leave it to me!”
An hour later, Kota rubbed his round belly and let out a hearty burp, sprawling across the ground in bliss.
“I can’t…
I can’t eat another bite…
Thanks for the feast!”
“Don’t mention it.
Since you’re full, it’s the perfect time to burn off some calories.”
Aoba stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes.
“On it!”
Kota gathered several sturdy vines and giant leaves, binding the wild boar into a neat bundle.
Standing nearby, Aoba watched him work; his movements were far too practiced for someone doing this for the first time.
“All set.”
Kota activated [Partial Multi-Size Technique].
His two gigantified hands hoisted the bundled boar with ease, and he began trudging forward in the direction of the Hidden Leaf Village.
No sooner had they stepped past the perimeter’s wire mesh fence than they ran headfirst into two bizarre green creatures.
“Youth!
This is the essence of youth, Guy!”
A middle-aged man wearing a tight green spandex bodysuit, sporting thick eyebrows and a mustache, was walking on his hands.
Beside him was a miniature, bowl-cut version of himself, hand-walking as well and panting heavily.
Might Duy and Might Guy.
A rather…
*unique* fixture of Konoha.
“Yo!
If it isn’t Aoba!”
Guy flipped back onto his feet and flashed a blinding grin, his white teeth reflecting the dusk light of the setting sun.
“Still doing weight training this late?
As expected of my recognized rival!”
His gaze fell upon the massive mountain of meat behind Aoba, his pupils vibrating in shock.
“Is that…
a boar?!
What a massive boar…!
I see!
So this is the secret to your strength!
Training by challenging wild beasts!”
“No, I just…
went hunting.”
Aoba took a deep breath, trying his best to keep his voice flat and deadpan.
Duy was already moved to tears by his own romanticized narrative.
He rushed over and clapped a hand onto Guy’s shoulder.
“Do you see, Guy?!
This is the burning of youth!
Relentless perseverance, shedding sweat beneath the setting sun—this is true romance for a real man!
Guy, here is your role model!”
Aoba: “…”
*I just wanted something to eat.
Seriously.*
*Also, does neither of you ever listen to what anyone else says?*
“Yes, Father!
I will redouble my efforts!
I’ll do five hundred handstand laps around the Leaf!
If I can’t do that, I’ll do a thousand push-ups!” Guy bellowed, blood boiling with passionate fervor.
“Splendid!
That is youth!
Let us run together!”
“OOHHHH!!!”
Father and son exchanged a glance, seemingly achieving some kind of spiritual resonance.
Then, amidst a cloud of dust, they sprinted off into the distance on their hands once more, leaving Aoba standing in place, utterly bewildered in the wind.
Aoba’s mouth twitched, fighting off a wave of second-hand embarrassment so intense his toes nearly dug a trench into the dirt.
Kota was dumbstruck as well.
It wasn’t as though he had never run into these two before.
As a pair truly in a league of their own—the village’s “Eternal Genin”—they were quite famous among the genin ranks.
Still, in the past he had only observed them from afar.
This was his first time actually interacting with them.
“Are they…
always like that?”
“You get used to it.”
“So, do you need me to carry this all the way to your place?”
“No need.
It’s out of your way.
I can just drag it back myself.”
“Alright…
see you next time.”
“Yeah.”
Aoba didn’t think much of it, grabbing the vines to haul the carcass away.
He assumed it was just a casual goodbye that might very well mean they would never cross paths again.
Konoha was fairly large, after all.
One was an Academy student while the other was a graduated genin; the odds of bumping into each other in daily life were slim, and they lived nowhere near one another.
Little did he know, “see you next time” would turn out to happen quite often.