After taking the unconscious Sasuke to Konoha Hospital and leaving Sakura there to look after him, the others-Shikamaru, Choji, Kiba, Shino, Ino, Hinata, and Hanabi-followed Naruto back to his little apartment.
It was only a little past four in the afternoon, not yet five.
Naruto hadn't used up much energy in the fight earlier, so he decided to cook for his friends himself.
This was the first time Naruto's normally quiet little home had welcomed so many guests at once. It immediately became cramped but lively.
While everyone helped tidy up, Naruto deftly used the Transformation Technique to take on a different appearance, then hurried out to buy a few folding chairs. At last, everyone had a seat.
"If you ask me, with this many of us, we could just go to my family's barbecue restaurant."
As Choji helped set the chairs around the table, he wiped nonexistent sweat off his forehead and offered the suggestion he'd been longing to make.
"Barbecue's too expensive. We can't afford that right now."
Sitting at the table and playing with Akamaru, who lay on his lap, Kiba said without looking up, "I have to save most of my allowance for ninja tools."
"But all that matters is that barbecue tastes good!"
Choji made his case. "Besides, with me, Shikamaru, and Ino there, we could have grilled venison. It wouldn't cost much."
That was true enough. The three Ino-Shika-Cho clans stood together and shared close ties.
The Nara Clan mainly made its living selling medicinal herbs and deer products, and the Akimichi Clan often bought venison from them.
If their little group went, they really would get an insider discount and wouldn't have to spend much.
"All right, Choji."
Shikamaru cut him off at just the right moment.
"It's rare for Naruto to take a day off training and have time to make dinner for us. Besides, I actually think... Naruto's cooking tastes even better than the food at the barbecue restaurant."
Shikamaru knew that if they went to Choji's family restaurant, even with a discount, they would still have to pay.
And for Kiba and Shino, whose clans had greater expenses, as well as Naruto, who was an orphan, the cost might still be a burden and leave those friends feeling awkward.
Coming to Naruto's home was different.
On the way back, they had bought ingredients for dinner together and naturally picked up plenty of extra meat and vegetables for Naruto to eat later.
Preparing and sharing their food this way meant no one had to feel burdened.
It was also on their way back together that day that Shikamaru had witnessed, up close for the first time, the terrible treatment Naruto received-something he'd only heard rumors about before.
Simply passing certain shops or pedestrians was enough for people to throw soybeans and salt toward Naruto as though warding off evil.
They really... treated Naruto like some mountain spirit or monster...
It was incredible... that Naruto could grow up in an environment like this and still be so cheerful and willing to trust others...
That realization stirred a trace of admiration in Shikamaru, along with a tangle of other emotions.
Hearing Shikamaru's words, Choji rubbed his round belly and nodded earnestly in agreement.
"Shikamaru's right, too. Naruto's cooking really is delicious!"
Ino caught something unusual in that exchange. She blinked her wide eyes, looking puzzled. "Wait... so, you guys..."
Her finger swept past Shikamaru, Choji, Kiba, and Shino, even including Hinata, whose head was slightly lowered, and the innocent-looking Hanabi beside her.
"You've all eaten Naruto's cooking?"
Almost in perfect unison, everyone she pointed to nodded, confirming it.
Ino froze.
Huh?
You've got to be kidding!
Don't tell me... out of everyone here, I'm the only one who hasn't eaten Naruto's cooking?!
An inexplicable sense of being left out of some little circle swept over her, mixed with intense curiosity.
Seeing Ino's disbelief, Kiba Inuzuka grinned and explained, "Starting a little over a month after school began last fall, our little group..."
He gestured at the others.
"We've pooled our money every day at lunchtime to buy Naruto ingredients, then asked him to make lunch for us. This guy's a really good cook. Right, Akamaru?"
"Woof~! Woof~!"
Little Akamaru raised his head and gave a convincing nod of his small, furry head.
Although Akamaru couldn't speak human language directly like Kakashi Hatake's ninja dog Pakkun, he was a carefully bred ninja dog with considerable intelligence, capable of understanding a great deal of human speech and emotion.
That night, at the Nara Residence.
Shikaku Nara and his son Shikamaru sat facing each other on the wooden veranda beneath the eaves, with a Go board between them.
The game had reached a stalemate, much like Shikamaru's state of mind.
The night breeze drifted through the courtyard, carrying the fresh scent of plants, yet it seemed to scatter Shikamaru's thoughts about the game.
Seeing his son holding a stone and pondering for a long time, his gaze wandering and his mind clearly elsewhere, Shikaku Nara lifted the teacup beside him and took a sip before asking calmly, "What's wrong? You've seemed preoccupied ever since you got home today. Did you run into some problem at school, Shikamaru?"
Since he was at home, speaking to his own father, Shikamaru made no particular effort to hide his thoughts. He set down the stone in his hand, his brow creasing slightly.
"Father, I've been wondering... why would the Third Hokage do this?"
"Oh? What do you mean?"
Taking into account what his son had told him that afternoon-that he would be watching Naruto and Sasuke fight, then eating with his friends that evening, so there was no need to prepare dinner for him-Shikaku already had a few suspicions.
He set down his teacup and looked calmly at his son, encouraging him to continue.
"It's about Naruto."
Shikamaru gathered his thoughts. "His blond hair, his blue eyes, and the surname 'Uzumaki'... no matter how much I think about it, when it comes to his parents, there's only one possibility I can think of..."
Just as the name on the tip of his tongue was about to spill out, Shikaku Nara suddenly raised a hand and firmly cut his son off with a gentle yet unquestionable gesture.
"Stop, Shikamaru."
Shikaku's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a heavy, undeniable weight, pressing into the air between them like a slab of cold iron.
"Whatever you've thought of, you must never say it aloud."
He didn't look at Shikamaru, as though the sudden understanding on his son's face were a flame that could burn him.
He merely turned his head slightly, directing his gaze toward the quiet, shadowy courtyard shrouded in night.
The evening breeze stirred the bamboo shadows, producing a soft rustling, but to Shikaku, that natural sound seemed to be concealing something.
His gaze was so sharp that it seemed capable of piercing the darkness, catching the countless unseen eyes and unspeakable secrets hidden where moonlight met shadow.