Time flowed like water, impossible to grasp or hold back.
Naruto had grown from a short little boy into a teenager who had to duck to get through his own doorway.
He still lived in that same old apartment.
Once, Kiba came to visit, stood in the doorway, looked around, and said,
"Naruto, can't you move somewhere roomier? You're the Fourth Hokage's surviving son, a hero of the village. It doesn't look good for you to live somewhere like this."
Naruto was cooking instant noodles and didn't even look up.
"I like it here."
Kiba looked at the stack of instant noodle boxes in the corner, said a few more things, and left.
Later, Sakura tried persuading him too, saying it wasn't as though he lacked money now, so why not get somewhere bigger?
Naruto thought it over, then shook his head.
Sakura fell silent.
She had noticed the photograph of the Fourth Hokage and his wife on the wall.
This shabby apartment really was worth more than any mansion.
Today, the apartment was packed with people.
Steam filled the kitchen amid the clatter of spatulas, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables, and the sizzle of hot oil.
Ino stood at the stove, one hand on her hip as she stirred the vegetables with the other.
"Sakura, pass me the salt."
Sakura took the salt jar off the shelf and handed it over while still chopping carrots, her knife work far more deft than it had been a few years ago.
Hinata was making soup on the other side, slowly stirring a long ladle through the pot as steam blurred her face.
Tenten helped plate the food, arranging the fried tempura in neat rows.
The four girls bustled around the kitchen.
In the living room, the boys sat in a row.