A Kitchen for Three

Early morning.

Tsunade held the spare key and opened the door to step inside.

The shoes in the entryway were arranged neatly, the kitchen stove was cold, and the living room was empty.

She changed her shoes, her footsteps so light she felt ridiculous—it wasn't as if she were here to steal something.

The bedroom door was left ajar.

Tsunade reached out and pushed it open.

Kitahara Kaede sat at the desk, holding several documents in his hands.

Hearing the movement, he turned his head, met her eyes, and paused.

Tsunade walked over and took a peek.

Several files were scattered across the desktop. The one on top had red lines marked along the edges of the pages, but the content was blocked by Kitahara Kaede's hand, so she couldn't see it.

"What are you looking at?"

Kitahara Kaede gathered all the files together, pushed them to the side, and blocked them with his body.

"Nothing, just routine documents sent by the Anbu."

Tsunade assumed they were just ordinary papers and didn't press the matter.

"Let's go, time to buy groceries."

Kitahara Kaede stood up and casually shoved the files into a drawer.

Tsunade had already turned and was walking out.

There were quite a few people on the street.

The morning market had just opened, and the sounds of vendors hawking their wares rose and fell.

Tsunade walked on his left. After a dozen steps, she bumped her arm against his.

She bumped him again.

Kitahara Kaede tilted his head to look at her.

Tsunade stared straight ahead, her expression overly calm, though the roots of her ears were flushed pink.

He smiled, reached out, looped his hand around her wrist, and hooked his arm through hers.

Tsunade's pace faltered for a split second, then she tightened her grip on his arm.

Once linked, she actually felt a sense of relief, and her steps became lighter.

The two strolled slowly along the morning market.

They ducked into a weapon shop for a quick look; Tsunade touched a newly arrived shuriken, decided it was too expensive, and left empty-handed.

When they passed a dango shop, Tsunade stopped.

"Wait a moment."

She bought two skewers of Three-Color Dango, took a bite of one herself, and then held it out to Kitahara Kaede's lips.

"Open up."

Kitahara Kaede leaned in and took a bite.

Tsunade pulled her hand back, her eyes curving into crescents.

At the entrance of the teahouse across the street, two chunin who had just returned from a mission were holding their teacups, their gazes fixed squarely on the pair.

One nudged the other's arm.

"Did you see that? They're arm-in-arm."

"My god, finally! The whole village has been anxious for them for who knows how many years—"

"Shh, if Lady Tsunade hears you, you're done for."

The two retracted their necks and pretended to drink their tea.

Tsunade, of course, had heard them.

Her ears turned even redder, but she linked her arm even tighter.

They didn't know that twenty meters behind them, half a head was peeking out from behind a fruit stand.

Nawaki.

He had seen the state Tsunade was in after she got home last night.

She had sat on the sofa, clutching that blue necklace, grinning at thin air.

She had smiled for half the night.

This morning was even more outrageous.

She had brushed her hair three times in front of the mirror and changed her outfit twice.

She was even humming a little tune when she left the house.

Nawaki had felt something was off right then.

Since when did his sister hum tunes?

So, he had quietly followed her.

From the moment Tsunade used the key to enter his master's house, he had understood everything.

And now—he had seen with his own eyes his sister linking arms with his master and feeding him dango on the street.

Nawaki crouched behind the fruit stand, covering his mouth with both hands, his entire face beaming.

His eyes were actually getting a little hot.

He had watched these two go back and forth since he was a child, neither willing to be the first to speak.

He had been anxious, dropped hints, and even asked directly.

Every time, the answer was either Tsunade's violent suppression or his master's silent smile.

It was infuriating.

But now, finally—

He stood up abruptly, bounced twice on the spot, and then quickly crouched back down.

He had almost been exposed.

Nawaki whispered to himself, "Master, well done."

At the entrance of the bookstore.

Jiraiya was walking out with a stack of thick books, a skewer from a meat kebab dangling from his mouth.

He was looking down at the back cover of the top book when his peripheral vision swept across the street.

The skewer fell from his mouth.

Tsunade was linked to Kitahara Kaede's arm, the two walking side-by-side past a vegetable stall.

Tsunade was smiling.

A happy, satisfied smile.

Jiraiya stood where he was for a long time.

The books in his arms slowly slid down a little.

He had actually known for a long time, ever since they were teenagers.

The way Tsunade looked at Kitahara Kaede was never the same as how she looked at him.

Even though he knew, he had always wanted to try to win her over...

What a pity...

Jiraiya hoisted the books up, took a step, crossed the street, and walked toward them.

Tsunade saw him first.

She didn't let go of the arm she was holding, but her body stiffened slightly.

Jiraiya walked up to them, his gaze sweeping over Tsunade's face before landing on Kitahara Kaede.

There was silence for three seconds.

He raised a hand and patted Kitahara Kaede on the shoulder.

"Take good care of her."

He withdrew his hand and turned to leave.

His stride was long, his back straight.

The stack of books in his arms was high, blocking half his face.

Tsunade looked back at his retreating figure.

Her mouth opened, but in the end, she said nothing.

Jiraiya turned into an alley and disappeared around the corner.

Tsunade withdrew her gaze and walked in silence for a few steps.

Kitahara Kaede's free hand covered the back of the hand she had linked through his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Tsunade looked down at that hand and took a breath.

"Let's go home and cook."

Flames licked the bottom of the pot on the stove.

Tsunade, wearing an apron, dropped the sliced saury into the pan. Oil splattered, and she leaned to the side.

Kitahara Kaede stood beside her, chopping green onions.

"Salt."

He handed it over.

"Water."

He handed it over.

When Tsunade flipped the fish, she took a half-step back, her back bumping into his arm.

"Move aside."

"Just stand half a step forward."

"I can't reach the seasonings."

Kitahara Kaede leaned slightly forward, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other reached over her shoulder to grab the soy sauce bottle, his chin resting on her shoulder.

Tsunade froze for a moment.

She turned her face; at this distance, his profile was so close she could count his eyelashes.

Tsunade abruptly turned her head back to stare at the pot.

"...Pour it, why are you just standing there."

Kitahara Kaede drizzled the soy sauce into the pot, his arm still wrapped around her waist.

"That's enough, that's enough, you poured too much!" Tsunade's hand holding the spatula was a bit unsteady, her voice drifting up half an octave. "Go back, don't distract the chef."

Kitahara Kaede chuckled, let go, and took a step back.

The sound of shoes being kicked off came from the doorway.

Nawaki sat down at the dining table, his legs swinging back and forth.

"Smells so good."

He watched the two people working side-by-side in the kitchen, unable to suppress the smile on his lips.

Tsunade came out with a plate and glanced at him.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing... nothing at all."

Nawaki quickly lowered his head and took a large gulp from his teacup.

Kitahara Kaede came out from behind with the Miso Soup and happened to see Nawaki winking and giving him a thumbs-up.

He smiled faintly and placed the soup on the table.

The three of them sat down to eat.

Tsunade placed the largest piece of fish into Nawaki's bowl, then put the boneless piece into Kitahara Kaede's bowl.

Nawaki shoveled a few mouthfuls of rice into his mouth, then suddenly looked up.

"Sis."

"Hmm?"

"The food you made today is better than ever."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow.

"It's the same dish as before."

"The mood is different, so the taste is different."

Tsunade tapped him on the forehead with her chopsticks.

"Don't be cheeky."

Nawaki rubbed his forehead and grinned.

The scent of cooking oil hadn't yet dissipated.

Sunlight shone in through the window, falling on the three of them.

The sound of bowls and chopsticks clinking, the sound of bickering, and laughter all swirled together.

As she reached the last bite of rice, Tsunade suddenly remembered.

"By the way, those files you were looking at this morning—"

She paused.

"Are you going on another mission?"

Kitahara Kaede set down his chopsticks.

"No, I was just organizing documents."

Tsunade looked into his eyes for two seconds.

"Really?"

"Really."

Tsunade said nothing more, rising to clear the bowls and chopsticks.

Nawaki leaned toward Kitahara Kaede's ear, lowering his voice.

"Master, I followed you two all morning."

Kitahara Kaede glanced at him.

"I know."

Nawaki's eyes widened.

"You noticed that early?"

"I noticed the moment you were at my front door."

Nawaki's face fell.

Kitahara Kaede patted him on the head.

"You've got a long way to go."

Nawaki rubbed his head, watching his master walk into the kitchen and stand side-by-side with Tsunade at the sink to wash the dishes.

He rested his chin in his hands and muttered softly.

"How nice."