Chapter 22: The Warm Pot and the Winds of Change
The streets of Konoha were gently steeped in the soft colors of dusk.
The air was filled with the scent of a thousand family dinners, mixed with the fresh, grassy smell of the evening breeze. Shūji led the two down a quieter alley, stopping in front of a shop with a dark blue noren (shop curtain).
The kanji for "Pot" was embroidered on it in white thread. From within, a warm yellow light and the faint, sweet scent of steam spilled out.
He lifted the noren, and a rich aroma—a mixture of soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and the fat of high-quality beef—welcomed them like a warm embrace.
The shop was small and done in natural wood tones. A few low tables were surrounded by cushions. It wasn't crowded, and the patrons kept their voices low, making the atmosphere feel exceptionally warm and peaceful.
It was the complete opposite of the rowdy, smoky yakiniku restaurant. This place was filled with the comforting, homey warmth unique to hot pot cooking.
"Welcome!" the okami (female proprietor), a woman in a simple kimono, smiled gently, leading them to a table in the back. A black clay nabe was set in the center, over a small gas burner.
"Sukiyaki for three," Shūji told the okami, glancing at Anko and Itachi. "Is that okay?" He knew both of them had a sweet tooth.
Anko nodded vigorously, her eyes already glued to the menu. "Okay? Of course it's okay!" Itachi also gave a soft "hn," a hint of anticipation in his eyes.
A shop with this kind of home-cooked atmosphere made him feel a rare sense of ease.
"Special-selection beef, tofu, shirataki noodles, shiitake mushrooms, enoki, shungiku (chrysanthemum greens), and green onions. Oh, and udon for the end," Shūji ordered, well-practiced. "And one raw egg each, for dipping."
"Right away. Please wait a moment." The okami jotted it down, smiled, and left to prepare.
Soon, the black nabe was placed on the burner, and a deep brown, glistening, sweet broth was poured in.
The flame was lit. As the broth began to bubble, the rich, sweet aroma rose with the steam, filling the air and tempting their palates.
The okami returned with a platter of neatly arranged ingredients: thin slices of top-grade wagyu, its marbling like frost; tender blocks of tofu; gray-white shirataki noodles; plump shiitake and delicate enoki; and fresh-cut green onions. There were also three bowls of clear, raw egg.
The broth began to boil. Shūji used the long chopsticks to lay a few slices of beef in the rolling liquid.
The pink meat instantly curled and browned, its fat melting and adding an even more enticing aroma to the sweet broth.
"Eat the meat first," Shūji instructed.
Anko was already waiting. She snatched a perfectly cooked, slightly curled piece of beef and dipped it in her bowl of raw egg.
The hot beef, coated in the cool, smooth egg, melted the instant it hit her tongue. The rich flavor of the meat, enveloped by the silkiness of the egg, and the unique sweet-and-salty flavor of the sukiyaki broth, was a multi-layered explosion. She closed her eyes in satisfaction. "Mmph... this sweetness is perfect! And the beef is ridiculously tender!"
Itachi copied Anko, carefully picking up a piece of beef and dipping it. The richness of the meat, the silkiness of the egg, and the sweet broth blended perfectly in his mouth, creating a warm, profound sense of satisfaction. He chewed quietly, but his pace was noticeably faster than usual, his dark eyes looking especially soft behind the rising steam.
Shūji watched them, satisfied, and picked up a piece for himself. When the sweet-heavy flavor of the mirin and soy sauce spread across his tongue, he almost frowned, just slightly. He took a sip of tea to cleanse his palate.
When it came to hot pot, he still preferred a clear or slightly spicy broth. This sweet style wasn't quite for him.
"Here are your vegetables and udon," the okami said, bringing the last of the food. She smiled as she saw the steam and the group's focused expressions.
"Thank you," Shūji nodded. Just as she was about to leave, he asked casually, "It's busy tonight. Is it a special occasion?"
The okami paused, her smile widening. "Business is always decent, thanks to you. But you're right, everyone does seem to be in a better mood these last few days."
She lowered her voice, as if sharing a happy secret. "Everyone's been saying... that Kumo is finally sending a formal delegation for peace talks!"
"After fighting for so long, we can finally see a glimmer of peace. Everyone is feeling a lot more relieved, and more willing to go out and eat something good."
She gestured to a few other tables, which were clearly families out for a meal.
"See? More people are bringing their children out, too."
A Kumo delegation? The news has already reached the shopkeepers? Shūji's chopsticks paused.
"A delegation?" Anko asked around a mouthful of broth-soaked shiitake. "Is that confirmed? Those Kumo-nin were pretty vicious before."
"Oh, it's confirmed, it's confirmed!" a woman from a nearby table, who was there with her child, couldn't help but chime in, her face full of simple hope.
"My husband does odd jobs at the administration building, and even he's heard!"
"They say it's a high-level group, led by the Raikage's right-hand man! With a setup like that, they can't be coming to fight, can they? They must be serious about peace!"
She gently patted her child's head. "It would just be so good if the war ended. The children could finally grow up in peace."
"Yes, an end would be a blessing," an older man at another table agreed. "Too much blood has been spilled on the border. Peace... that's more precious than anything."
The shop was suddenly filled with a quiet, hopeful buzz about the coming peace.
The topic was soon derailed by the smell of the boiling pot. The okami and the other customers returned to their own meals.
"Kumo..." Anko swallowed, licking the sweet sauce from her lips. The satisfaction in her eyes faded, replaced by a shinobi's scrutiny. "The Raikage's top aide? That's a big deal. Still, I wonder what they're really after."
"It's the only way this could go," Shūji said flatly, placing a perfectly cooked, broth-soaked piece of tofu in Itachi's dish.
"Kumo can't win. Peace is their only option. As for their 'sincerity'..."
He paused, looking at the bubbling broth. "...It's not about what they say. It's about what they do... and what price they're willing to pay."
Itachi quietly ate the tofu. It was silky, and the sweet broth had soaked all the way through.
He looked at Shūji's calm profile. He noted that despite losing his team on the border, his senpai didn't seem to hold any special, personal hatred for Kumo.
Anko pouted, clearly uninterested in such pragmatic talk. Her attention was quickly stolen by the shirataki noodles bubbling in the pot.
"Ah, who cares about all that! This shirataki is amazing! Okami! Another order of shirataki!" she called out, raising her hand.
"And four more orders of beef," Shūji added. Shinobi had big appetites.
Outside, the lights of Konoha began to glow in the deep blue dusk. The sukiyaki shop was warm and cozy, the pot bubbling, the sweet aroma filling the air.
The three sat around the pot, focused on the food. The warm broth, the tender beef, the vegetables soaked in flavor... it brought a comfort that started in the stomach and spread through the whole body.
The exhaustion and tension from their training seemed to melt away in the steam.
The last of the udon was gone. Anko let out a satisfied sigh and leaned back. Itachi also put down his chopsticks, quietly drinking his tea.
Shūji lifted his cup, and his gaze fell on Anko's washed-out, frayed mesh shirt, then on Itachi's clean, but standard, clan robes.
"Full?" Shūji asked, setting his cup down. "Good. While we still have time." He stood up. "The squad is new. As your captain, I should give you something."
Anko and Itachi both looked at him, confused.
"We're going to buy a few things," Shūji said, his tone as casual as if he were planning their next training session. "A captain's gift. You're not allowed to refuse."
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