Everyday Life 2

"Might Guy, let's go. It's about time." After seeing that the time was right, Shiro called out to Might Guy, who was still training.

"Alright, Big Brother Shiro, but you go ahead first. I need to go home and change clothes."

"Mm, no problem. Make sure you come."

"Yes!"

Of course, when Might Guy said he was changing clothes, he merely meant changing into another green spandex suit.

More precisely, aside from green spandex suits, this father and son did not own any other styles of clothing.

Back home.

"I'm back. Hm? Mom, are we having guests? Why did you buy so many vegetables?"

"Oh, I ran into your Aunt Nanako while I was buying groceries. Their family will be joining today's gathering too."

"I see. Oh right, Mom, a friend of mine is coming over for dinner tonight too."

"Who is it? A girl? How long have you been together? What does she look like?"

The moment Shiro finished speaking, Keiko rushed over and fired off questions like a barrage.

"..."

Shiro looked at his mother speechlessly. "It's Might Guy, Mom. Uncle Duy went on a mission, so it isn't very convenient for Might Guy to be alone."

"Sigh..."

"..."

What was with that sigh? I'm not even eight yet, you know? That way of thinking would be dangerous in my previous life. You'd get your door knocked on in minutes.

Shiro stared helplessly at his utterly disappointed mother as he thought to himself.

"Shiro, come here for a moment."

At that moment, Shiro's father, Makoto, called him over.

"Dad, what is it?" Shiro walked over and asked.

"Sit down first." After Shiro sat down, Makoto continued, "I heard from your mother that your captain has been guiding your training for the past month?"

"Yes. That's why this mission took so long."

"Mm. In that case, take this box of cigarettes and give it to Captain Nakamura. Don't worry, they're made specifically for shinobi."

"Dad, this..."

Before Shiro could finish, Makoto cut him off. "Take it. This is a gift from me to Captain Nakamura. You just need to deliver it. Alright, go out."

With that, Makoto picked up a scroll and began reading it, ignoring Shiro.

"...Then I'll head out first, Dad."

After leaving, Shiro looked at the cigarettes in his hand. He recognized them—they were made specifically for shinobi. The smoke they produced could disperse quickly, and could even be used in conjunction with certain ninjutsu. Naturally, they were not cheap.

Shiro's father was merely an ordinary Konoha office worker, and his salary was not particularly high. As far as Shiro knew, this box of cigarettes was worth roughly three years of his father's salary!

This was no joke. Shinobi mission rewards were very high, so industries related to shinobi were naturally expensive as well. That was why Kakashi often treated Naruto and the others to ramen in the original story.

He really was poor. He had to fund his own training, keep up with Jiraiya's famous works, and buy huge amounts of paper. How could he possibly begrudge spending money to treat others?

Thus, Makoto had truly spent a fortune for Shiro's sake.

As for why he had not given Yamada such an expensive gift back then, firstly, Yamada was Shiro's team instructor. If Shiro became successful in the future, Yamada would benefit as well, so Makoto was not too worried that Yamada would neglect Shiro's training.

Nakamura was different. He was only Shiro's captain. Teaching him was a favor; not teaching him was his duty.

Secondly, to put it bluntly, Yamada was only a Chunin. Even if he was an elite among Chunin, he was still only a Chunin. Nakamura, however, was different. He could be considered a seasoned Jonin, superior to Yamada in both strength and connections.

Of course, this was only human nature. Most people were like this, not just Shiro's father. Even Shiro himself was no exception.

For instance, among Shiro's classmates, he had barely played with them while they were in school. Most of his time had been spent training with Kushina, Duy, and the others. Part of that was certainly because he could not get along with them well—their mental ages were simply too far apart.

But more importantly, Shiro knew that most of them were mere faceless extras. There was no benefit in befriending them. Perhaps Shiro was a little too utilitarian, but that was reality.

Still, Shiro simply would not take the initiative to befriend them. If they happened to cross paths, those things did not matter much. Take Chosuke and the others, for example—Shiro had only become familiar with them after they were assigned to the same class.

However, no matter how moved Shiro was, there was not much he could do right now. He could only keep this gratitude in his heart and repay it in the future.

For now, he should go help out.

Since there were quite a few people, they decided to have a barbecue. It would create a better atmosphere. After all, the eating habits in the world of Hokage were similar to Japan's, with food usually served on separate plates.

But there were too many people now. Serving separate plates would be too troublesome, and the atmosphere would not be as good. Besides, they did not have the miracle that was hot pot, so barbecue was naturally their only option.

Some people might wonder: hot pot wasn't difficult to make, so why had he been in this world for so long without coming up with it?

Indeed, hot pot was not hard to create. But first of all, setting aside differences in food culture, how was he supposed to explain how a child had thought of it? After all, the way hot pot was eaten was already very systematic and refined.

And if Shiro had to eat some more primitive version of hot pot, then sorry, but he thought sushi and the like were actually pretty good too.

Secondly, in such a dangerous world, instead of trying to improve his strength, he would be busy inventing food? Shiro could only say that was like eating arsenic to celebrate a long life—he'd be tired of living.

Therefore, the people of the Hokage world would have no fate with the miracle of hot pot for the time being. As for when that fate would come, they could wait until Shiro grew stronger and the author remembered it.

Still, barbecue was a good choice. At the very least, it suited Shiro's tastes.

However, when Shiro wanted to help, Keiko refused, on the grounds that real men did not belong in the kitchen.

Honestly, after spending so much time with Kushina, Shiro had nearly forgotten that this world followed male chauvinism. Like Japan, the men were the heads of their households.

Even shinobi were the same. Just like in Boruto, some female shinobi who got married would give up missions and return home to serve their husbands and raise children. (Just saying this to avoid criticism—I don't watch Boruto either. I'm only borrowing the setting.)

Also, let me emphasize this: being afraid of one's wife did not mean having no status. It was a sign of loving one's wife. Take Naruto, for example. He could be called the number one person in the Shinobi World, but once Hinata got angry, he still had to back down.

Thus, Keiko chased Shiro out. After all, this world still differed somewhat from China. Unlike China, where women usually cooked on ordinary days, but men took charge of the kitchen during important holidays or occasions.

At that moment, Nanako's family arrived as well.

"Yo, little Shiro, you've gotten even more handsome since I last saw you. But why don't you have a girlfriend yet?"

Shiro had been quite happy upon hearing the first half, but the instant he heard the latter half, the smile vanished from his face.

"Haha, that was fun. I'll stop teasing you. I'm going to help your mother."

"Shiro, where is your father? Is he not home?"

"Uncle Jiro, Father is in the study."

"Mm, then go play with Okita and the others. I'll go find your father."

"Yes, Uncle Jiro."

Jiro was Okita's father. Mm, he had no surname. Unlike Shiro's family, whose ancestors had once been prosperous enough to pass down a surname. Though it was useless, at least it made his name longer. In the future, as long as he struck fast enough, he could show off by saying, "You died before I even finished saying my name, trash!"