When something was this strange, there had to be a catch. Madara and Shingetsu stared at each other for a moment, then turned toward Hashirama almost simultaneously and asked in unison:
"Where did you get the money?"
This once-in-a-millennium sucker had actually held on to some money instead of handing it all over to the casino, and now he was generously offering to treat them to dessert. Something was definitely wrong. He had to be up to something!
Patting his flat wallet, Hashirama forced an awkward smile. Without waiting for either of them to agree, he pushed them into the dessert shop. But when it came time to order, he could not help fretting over the expensive prices on the menu.
Sweets tasted good, sure, but why did they have to cost so much?
The penniless Hokage, whose perfectly decent salary all went toward gambling and supporting the Orphanage, nearly broke into a cold sweat. Hanzō, who had remained silent all this time, his thoughts unreadable, widened his eyes involuntarily after seeing the prices. Sweat beaded on his forehead too, and he pushed the menu away before anyone else could act.
"Lord Hashirama, you don't need to order anything for me."
"Oh, you don't have to save me money!"
Hashirama hurriedly stuffed the menu back into Hanzō's hands, but he shook his head again and refused. He explained to Hashirama that his body was unusual: he produced poison even when breathing, so he never ate with other people.
"Isn't that terribly lonely? Meals are more fun when you eat together!"
Hashirama made a fuss for quite a while, his gaze growing even more sympathetic as he looked at Hanzō. Across from them, however, Madara narrowed his eyes slightly, apparently quite interested in Hanzō's unusual constitution.
A body that produced poison