A Declaration of Protecting One's Own, the New Generation's Sense of Security

"Nawaki Senju."

Hiashi Hyuga's voice was not loud, but it carried clearly through the quiet private room.

Hizashi Hyuga, seated beside him, immediately stiffened, his palms beginning to sweat. His older brother was good in every way except for being too stubborn. Everyone had only just relaxed—why bring up such a sensitive subject? The man across from them had crushed Root elites with one hand. If they angered him, would this barbecue restaurant even survive?

Hiashi ignored his brother's tension and fixed Nawaki with a blazing gaze. "Since you have awakened Wood Release and displayed power on that level, what do you think of the power structure among Konoha's clans? And what will the future relationship between the Hyuga Clan and the Senju Clan be?"

The moment those words left his mouth, the temperature in the private room seemed to plunge to freezing.

Shikaku had just picked up a slice of beef tripe, his hand stopping in midair. He cursed inwardly, Hiashi, did water get into your brain? We came here to eat, not hold a high-level meeting!

Inoichi froze with his wine cup in hand. Even Choza softened his breathing.

Everyone's eyes turned to Nawaki.

Nawaki still had a huge piece of fatty pork dripping with grease stuffed in his mouth. His cheeks were puffed out as he glanced at Hiashi and mumbled indistinctly, "Wait a second."

Then he spent a full ten seconds slowly chewing the meat to pieces and swallowing it. After that, he pulled over a napkin and carefully wiped the grease from his hands.

To everyone else in the private room, those ten seconds felt longer than ten hours.

After wiping his hands, Nawaki crumpled the napkin into a ball and tossed it onto the table. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Hiashi. There was no solemnity on his face, nor any anger at being offended. His tone was as casual as if they were discussing tomorrow's weather.

"Hiashi, I'm a straightforward person, so don't take this the wrong way," Nawaki said. "I have no interest in who becomes Hokage, who controls business on which street, or who gets one more seat on the Elders' Council."

Hiashi's brow furrowed slightly. He was clearly dissatisfied with that answer.

The smile on Nawaki's face did not change, but everyone present—including the ever-composed Mikoto and the boisterous Kushina Uzumaki—felt an incomparably heavy pressure descend upon them at that instant.

There was no eruption of chakra, no killing intent leaking out. It was simply the weight of someone standing above all others, looking down upon living beings.

"I only have one principle." Nawaki stared into Hiashi's Byakugan. "Whoever treats the Senju Clan well, the Senju Clan will repay them double. But if anyone dares lay a hand on someone from the Senju Clan, or touch someone by my side—"

He paused, lowering his voice.

"—I'll bury them alive and plant trees over them. Next year, they might even bear a few more fruits."

The private room fell deathly silent.

Kuromaru shuddered beneath the table.

Hiashi's pupils contracted slightly. He understood. This was not political rhetoric. It was the most primal, unreasonable declaration of violence. Yet coming from the mouth of the man who possessed a hundred-meter Wood Buddha, it was more effective than any alliance pact.

The Senju Clan did not want power. They only wanted absolute security. Whoever provided that security was a friend; whoever posed a threat was fertilizer.

That terrifying pressure vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Nawaki picked up his chopsticks again, then casually grabbed the juice from the table, leaned over, and filled Hiashi's empty cup.

"Alright, don't be so tense." Nawaki grinned and scolded lightly. "We're people the same age having barbecue together. Stop with all those official probes. Isn't that tiring? Your clan's Byakugan is pretty useful in real combat—there are no blind spots in its field of vision. Let's go to the training grounds and spar sometime."

The atmosphere remained frozen for two seconds.

"Pfft."

Shikaku suddenly laughed. He set down his chopsticks and raised his drink, his eyes holding the complete relief that came after careful thought.

He had seen through Nawaki's nature. This guy was an extremely protective, brutally powerful shield. As long as you did not touch his reverse scale, he was the thickest thigh in all of Konoha—and he would not even fight you for the meat.

"For those words, I'll raise a cup to you." Shikaku lifted his drink.

"Yes, yes, let's drink to that!" Choza immediately echoed, raising his grease-smeared cup while conveniently snatching away a piece of meat that had fallen onto the grill.

Tsume Inuzuka threw back her head and laughed. "I like how direct you are! Kuromaru, come out and eat!"

Even Hiashi, whose face had remained tense, fell silent for a moment before the corners of his lips lifted slightly. He raised his juice and clinked it against Nawaki's from afar. "The Hyuga Clan will remember that."

Hizashi let out a long breath of relief beside him and hurriedly raised his own cup to join them.

Minato sat nearby, watching the scene as he smiled and took a sip of tea. The matter he had spent three days thinking over in the hospital had been settled by Nawaki with one barbecue meal and a single sentence.

At that moment, these people who would become Konoha's future core forces felt a strange sense of security from someone their own age for the first time. It was not the protection of a lofty Hokage, but the promise of a brother sitting across from them, fighting them for meat.

The dinner was drawing to a close.

Every plate on the table was empty. Not even a single leaf of lettuce remained.

Nawaki leaned back in his chair with a toothpick in his mouth and let out a satisfied burp. He reached into his pocket, preparing to call the owner over and pay the bill.

"Oh, right." Nawaki chewed on the toothpick as though he had suddenly remembered some trivial matter, then casually said, "I'm planning to go back to the Ninja Academy tomorrow."

"Pffft—!"

The tea Minato had just swallowed sprayed straight out.

Shikaku suddenly began coughing, his face turning red as he choked on his saliva. Choza's eyes widened, and the half bone in his hand dropped onto the table with a clatter.

Hiashi's hand, which had just lifted his cup, froze in midair. His Byakugan nearly widened into normal human eyes.

"What did you say?" Shikaku asked between coughs, his voice cracking. "You? Going back to the Ninja Academy? To attend classes?"

"Yeah." Nawaki nodded as if it were only natural. "I'm only twelve. I haven't graduated yet. Why wouldn't I go back to class?"

The private room fell into dead silence once more.

At the same time, everyone pictured the same scene: a hundred-meter Wood Release Buddha carrying a little backpack, sitting obediently behind a wooden desk at the Ninja Academy while listening to a chunin instructor lecture on The Basics of Chakra Extraction.

The image was too horrifying.

"Are you serious?" Minato wiped the tea from the corner of his mouth, his expression complicated.

"Of course I am. I even bought a backpack." Nawaki stood up and shoved the stack of money into the middle of the table. "Owner! The bill! Keep the rest as a tip!"

He turned to look at the others, who were still staring blankly, and flashed them a grin.

"See you at the school gate at eight tomorrow morning, classmates."