I stood at the entrance of the Nara Clan residence, holding Naruto's hand while carefully straightening the collar he had managed to wrinkle on the way here.
The kid had been unbelievably excited about wearing new clothes.
So excited, in fact, that he had bounced nearly the entire way over.
Because of that, his cuffs had already become slightly uneven, and the tiger-head hat on his head had slipped backward until it was almost hanging off.
I sighed and adjusted it properly.
"Listen carefully, Naruto."
"Once we go inside, greet everyone properly, take off your shoes, and don't yell that you're hungry the moment we step through the door."
Naruto puffed out his cheeks.
"I know!"
"It's not like this is my first time visiting someone's house."
"It's your first time visiting Shikamaru's house."
"...Oh."
He immediately became serious.
"Right."
I took a deep breath.
Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door opened on its own.
Shikamaru stood in the entryway with both hands in his pockets.
His face carried that familiar lazy expression, as though opening the door itself had already consumed far too much energy.
His gaze swept over both of us.
"You arrived."
"So why were you standing outside instead of coming in?"
"We were just about to knock."
"You've been standing there for at least three minutes."
After leaving that effortless remark behind, he turned and walked inside.
"Mom, they're here."
Before I could even change into indoor slippers, hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway.
Yoshino appeared from the kitchen, half her body leaning out as she looked toward the entrance.
She was still wearing an apron.
There was flour on her hands.
The moment she saw me, her face softened into a warm smile.
"Sister Al!"
"You finally came!"
"Ever since Shikaku came back and said he saw you at the barbecue restaurant, I've been saying that if you didn't visit soon, I would go drag you here myself."
She walked over quickly, wiped her hands on her apron, and cupped my face with both hands.
Then she looked me over carefully.
Her brows immediately furrowed.
"You've lost weight."
"You're thinner than the last time I saw you."
"Shikaku even told me you hadn't."
She turned her head toward the living room.
"Shikaku!"
"Come here and look!"
"How is this not losing weight?"
Shikaku slowly walked over from the living room.
He leaned against the hallway doorframe with his arms crossed, studied me seriously for a second, then turned to Yoshino.
"It seems I misjudged."
Yoshino immediately gave him a look.
"Go get the snacks from the cupboard."
"Dinner will take a while."
"This girl definitely hasn't been eating properly at home again."
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
There was no room to argue.
Yoshino finally released my face.
Her gaze shifted to Naruto, who stood behind me in the entryway.
Naruto's hands hung obediently at his sides.
He had quietly adjusted his hat by himself.
His lips were pressed together, and his face held a strange mixture of nervousness and anticipation.
Yoshino bent down slightly until her eyes were level with his.
"You must be Naruto."
Her voice became gentler.
"Shikaku mentioned you when he came back last time."
"He said you were a very energetic young man."
Then she smiled and looked at his hat.
"That's a very nice hat."
Naruto's ears instantly turned red.
He bowed so deeply that his hat almost fell forward again.
"Hello, Auntie!"
"Sorry to bother you!"
"This is a gift!"
He held out the box of yokan he had been clutching carefully all the way here.
Yoshino accepted it.
When she saw the packaging, surprise flashed through her eyes.
"This shop's yokan?"
"I've loved this store since I was little."
"How did you know?"
Naruto answered honestly.
"The old man at the wagashi shop told me."
"He said Mrs. Yoshino from the Nara Clan has liked it since she was a kid."
For a moment, Yoshino was stunned.
Then her smile widened until her eyes curved.
"That old man..."
"I'll have to thank him next time."
She carefully placed the gift box aside.
As she passed Shikaku, she patted his arm.
"Look how thoughtful this child is."
"What did you bring the first time you came to my house?"
"A whole bag of bitter melon."
Shikaku's expression did not change.
"I picked those up during a mission."
Yoshino smiled and returned to the kitchen.
Shikaku sighed helplessly before beckoning to us.
"Don't stand at the door."
"Come in."
The Nara Clan's living room looked almost exactly as I remembered it.
Clean.
Quiet.
Comfortable.
A plate of snacks sat on the low table.
Several scrolls were arranged neatly on the bookshelf.
In the corner, a shogi board sat half-packed away, as if Shikaku had been playing against himself not long ago.
From the kitchen came the rich fragrance of cooking oil, miso soup, and simmering broth.
It smelled warm.
It smelled like home.
Naruto sat beside me with his hands on his knees and his back completely straight.
However, his eyes kept drifting toward the snacks on the table.
Shikamaru sat across from us on the floor, resting his chin in one hand.
His eyes moved between Naruto and me.
I couldn't tell whether he was observing us...
Or simply zoning out.
"Shikamaru."
Yoshino's voice came from the kitchen.
"Take Sister Al and Naruto to wash their hands."
"Dinner will be ready soon."
"Got it."
Shikamaru slowly stood and led us toward the bathroom.
I followed behind him.
Halfway down the hall, he suddenly slowed down until he was walking beside me.
"So."
"You're a writer."
"...How do you still remember that?"
"It hasn't been that long."
His voice was low, just loud enough for me to hear.
"Last time at the barbecue restaurant..."
"You interrupted my question by putting meat in my bowl."
"Didn't you?"
"That's your imagination."
"Liar."
"..."
I silently made a note in my heart.
Next time, do not use the meat-serving trick on Shikamaru.
It clearly had no effect on smart people.
At the sink, Naruto turned the faucet on at full force.
Water splashed everywhere.
Before I could stop him, Shikamaru reached over and calmly turned it down by half.
Naruto grinned at him in the mirror.
"Your faucet is pretty fun."
Shikamaru glanced at him.
Then pulled out a tissue and handed it over.
"Wipe your hands."
"Don't shake them dry."
Naruto obediently accepted the tissue.
Watching from the side, I felt a strange emotion.
Shikamaru was still young, still lazy, still troublesome in his own way.
But in moments like this, he had an oddly domestic air about him.
Calm.
Practical.
Naturally considerate without making a big deal out of it.
When we returned to the living room, Shikamaru did not sit back in his original spot.
Instead, he walked to the corner and sat cross-legged before the board.
He picked up the shogi pieces one by one, placed them into the container, then looked up at me.
"Dinner will still take a while."
"Play a game."
"I don't know how to play shogi."
Without hesitation, he closed the shogi box and pushed it aside.
Then he took another board from the drawer and brought out a box of black and white stones.
"Gomoku."
"You know this one, right?"
"...I know this one."
He nodded and pushed the white stones toward me.
"You go first."
Gomoku, honestly speaking, was a simple game.
Place stones.
Connect five.
Win.
But when the opponent was someone from the Nara Clan, I did not dare relax.
I placed my first few stones carefully.
Shikamaru, by contrast, played quickly.
Almost too quickly.
His fourth move landed in a position that had nothing to do with my formation.
I stared at the board.
It wasn't a trap.
It wasn't a setup.
It wasn't even useful.
Was he...
Letting me win?
I placed another stone and formed a line of four.
He blocked one side.
I calmly connected five on the other.
"...Are you letting me win?"
"No."
"You're just lucky."
"You hesitated for two seconds before blocking."
"..."
Caught.
Shikamaru quietly gathered the stones back into the container.
His expression did not change.
"One more game."
At that moment, Naruto wriggled out from under a cushion.
Unlike usual, he didn't loudly demand to join.
Instead, he quietly shuffled closer and sat beside me, watching the black and white stones with serious eyes.
After a while, he asked softly,
"Big Sister..."
"How do you play this?"
"Can you teach me?"
His tone was different from usual.
A little careful.
A little uncertain.
As if he wanted to step into the atmosphere but wasn't sure whether he was allowed.
Before I could answer, Shikamaru had already pushed the box of black stones toward him.
"You go first."
"Black stones."
"Horizontal, vertical, or diagonal."
"Connect five in a row and you win."
Naruto froze.
He looked at Shikamaru.
Then at me.
Then nodded hard.
"Okay!"
He grabbed a black stone and slapped it onto the center of the board.
Clack!
The board bounced.
The stone nearly rolled away.
Shikamaru reached out and held the board steady.
He sighed.
"If you're going to play, just play."
"Don't hit the board like you're trying to break it."
"Hehe..."
Naruto scratched his cheek.
"I was nervous."
We played a few rounds.
Naruto gradually understood the rules.
He still lost more than he won, but every time he successfully blocked one of Shikamaru's lines, he cheered as if he had won a war.
His voice filled the living room.
Loud.
Bright.
Alive.
Then Yoshino finally emerged from the kitchen carrying a clay pot.
Shikaku followed behind her with a serving tray.
"Shikamaru."
"Stop playing and come eat."
Shikamaru immediately placed his stone down and stood.
Before leaving, he glanced at Naruto.
Then at the crooked black stone Naruto had just placed.
"You're improving fast."
"Next time..."
"You might win a game."
Naruto froze.
He blinked.
Then turned toward me while clutching the container of stones.
His voice dropped low, but the excitement in it could not be hidden.
"Big Sister..."
"Did you hear that?"
"I heard."
I smiled.
"Let's go eat."
"Yeah!"
Naruto jumped up and followed us.
His steps were much lighter than when he had first entered the house.
Dinner was far more abundant than I had expected.
The clay pot chicken had been stewed until tender, the meat nearly falling off the bone with the slightest touch.
The grilled fish had crisp skin and soft, fresh meat inside.
The vegetable tempura was thin, golden, and fragrant.
A steaming bowl of pork miso soup sat at the center of the table, finely chopped green onions floating across the surface.
For a moment, I simply looked at everything in front of me.
It had been a long time since I had eaten food made by someone else's mother.
Not restaurant food.
Not convenience store food.
Not something quickly prepared between deadlines.
But real home-cooked food.
Warm.
Careful.
Full of quiet concern.
The kind of meal that did not simply fill the stomach...
But softened something inside the chest.
Naruto sat beside me, staring at the table with round eyes.
He looked excited.
But also nervous.
As if afraid that reaching out too quickly would make the scene disappear.
Yoshino noticed.
She smiled and placed a piece of tender chicken into his bowl.
"Eat while it's hot, Naruto."
Naruto looked down at the chicken.
Then looked up at her.
For one second, he seemed not to know what expression to make.
Finally, he grinned.
"Thank you, Auntie!"
His voice was still loud.
But this time, there was a warmth in it that made even Shikaku's eyes soften slightly.
Shikamaru picked up his chopsticks.
"Eat already."
"The food's going to get cold."
"What a drag."
Naruto immediately nodded.
"Yeah!"
The first bite of chicken entered his mouth.
His expression changed instantly.
"It's so good!"
Yoshino laughed.
"Then eat more."
"There's plenty."
Those simple words seemed to strike Naruto more deeply than even the taste of the food.
There's plenty.
For him, perhaps that sentence was not ordinary at all.
I lowered my eyes and silently picked up my chop
sticks.
Across the table, Shikaku noticed.
He did not say anything.
Neither did Yoshino.
But somehow, in that warm dining room filled with food, laughter, and the faint clatter of dishes...
I felt the dangerous urge to relax.
To believe that maybe this place was safe.
That maybe accepting kindness did not always mean falling into debt.
That maybe Naruto could have more places where he was welcomed.
And that thought...
Was far more frightening than I expected.
Because once someone tasted warmth like this...
How could they ever go back to pretending loneliness was normal?
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