Summoning Technique!
Before he knew it, the morning was already gone.
Originally, Shirō had training scheduled for the afternoon. Although he couldn't practice ninjutsu with Kakashi because of his magic circuits, simply organizing both his ninjutsu and magecraft notes in his mind was still fulfilling.
With Sakumo's guidance, even the most tedious details of chakra theory became clearer.
But today, there was no training. Shirō had promised Kushina he would help with cooking to host Taiyi and the others that evening, as thanks for rescuing Katsuki.
Logically speaking, he should've been a guest as well. But after experiencing firsthand the terrifying wrath of the "Red-Hot Habanero," he wasn't eager to provoke Kushina again. So he took the initiative to help instead.
Seeing him so sensible, Kushina had no intention of wasting his effort and made sure he prepared properly.
That meant his afternoon training had to be abandoned. Still, research into magic couldn't be solved in one sitting—sometimes persistence mattered more than sudden inspiration. Since he had no inspiration today anyway, there was no rush.
As for ninjutsu, that wasn't in his immediate plans either, so postponing it was acceptable.
He didn't waste lunchtime, though. Shirō continued his near-unbroken routine of meditation. Like water slowly carving through stone, persistence would one day grant him the kind of mind capable of encompassing all things.
Meditation was especially important now because of that dream. He still didn't know if it was good or bad. If it was beneficial, then fine. But if it was harmful… the cost could be unbearable.
He wasn't willing to gamble. Until he knew for sure, meditation would be his way of suppressing it.
Still, magecraft remained his foundation.
After meditating, Shirō informed Sakumo and left.
He didn't head straight to Kushina's. First, he went home to wash off the sweat from training and to collect a few things. Showing up at Kushina's house drenched in sweat wasn't exactly presentable.
"I'm home."
"Back so early?" Keiko looked up from her work. "Weren't you supposed to be training this afternoon?"
"I asked Hatake-sensei to leave. I'm going to Big Sister's place to help with something."
"I see. Then take this with you." She handed him a neat little gift box.
"What is it?" Shirō asked, tilting his head.
"Honey. From your maternal grandfather. There's a lot, so tomorrow you'll bring some to Hatake-dono too. Understood?"
"Yes, understood." Shirō nodded, not daring to argue—he'd only earn another lecture. At least now he had a topic to change the subject.
"Grandpa came? Where is he?" He craned his neck toward the living room.
"Don't bother looking. He left early. He wanted to see you but had other business."
Keiko tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Take this with you later. Don't forget."
"Got it. I'll wash up first. I'll go see Grandpa in a few days."
---
Shirō's maternal grandfather wasn't a shinobi. He was just a beekeeper, though a rather successful one, with an income better than most civilians. His financial support had helped Shirō attend the Academy. Later, when students were assigned to jōnin squads, he even spent money smoothing things over so Shirō could join Yamada-sensei's class.
After all, only true prodigies were assigned directly by the Hokage. Shirō back then was only slightly talented and had average test scores. Rumors of his "Strength Enhancement Ninjutsu" sounded exaggerated to most.
So, like many, his placement depended more on influence than pure skill. Still, Yamada was a capable jōnin, and facts had proven that training under him was much easier than under some others.
In return, Shirō called him "Grandpa" without hesitation. And since his current consciousness carried the memories of the original Shirō, the word felt natural. It wasn't just an inherited title anymore—it was real.
That said, Shirō had once visited often with another motive. He had suspected his grandfather might be a hidden master—some forgotten shinobi in disguise. If he'd been right, Shirō's path would've skyrocketed. Unfortunately, he was just what he seemed: a beekeeper. Not even on the level of the Emiya family back in Fuyuki, who at least had shinobi ancestors.
Eventually, Shirō gave up those hopes and decided to rely on his own strength. Their relationship improved after that.
Now that he was officially a shinobi, visiting wasn't as easy. Leaving Konoha required permits—one copy from the Hokage, another handed to the gate guards. It was troublesome, but not impossible. Since his missions were light lately, he could probably find the time.
---
After chatting with Keiko, Shirō went to wash up.
Once clean, he pulled out a small box hidden beneath his bed. From it, he drew a folded slip of paper and tucked it into his pocket. Kushina had reminded him several times not to forget it.
Besides that, he only carried the jars of honey his mother had prepared—two portions, one for Katsuki, and another for Taiyi and the others.
As he thought about it, he froze.
"…Wait, I've made so many friends already?"
Looking at the jars, he realized there might not be enough to go around.
Well, no choice. He'd make up the difference with his own money. Thankfully, it was just ordinary honey. If it had been some rare chakra-infused honey, he would've had no choice but to risk Kushina's wrath instead.
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