CHAPTER 10: Eat, Plot, Love?
The next morning, he woke up with eager anticipation of Iwai Mari, the Director of Konoha Hospital, arriving. Due to their busy schedules and her recent leave, they hadn't had a chance to meet, and he recognized the importance of her support for implementing effective changes at the hospital. Furthermore, he had other plans in mind that necessitated careful preparation and her assistance.
"Thank you for coming, Director Iwai. I've been looking forward to this meeting," he greeted her warmly, extending a cup of tea. "Please, don't call me that. Unless, of course, you prefer to be addressed as 'Saint-sama' as well," she teased, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Kami, no," he chuckled, relieved by her lighthearted response. "Haruki-san," she addressed him despite their significant status difference. She seemed like a straightforward person, and he appreciated that. "I've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally put a face to the rumors. I apologize for not being present on your first day, as my husband was unwell," she explained candidly.
"I hope he's doing better, Mari-san," he expressed genuine concern. "Yes, he's just a wuss," she dryly remarked, causing him to nearly wince at her blunt honesty. He realized he had spent too much time with the nobles, who often sugarcoated their words. "I'm glad to hear that. I hope you've only heard positive things about me," he replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "What can I say? It seems the Saint lives up to expectations," she stated, her tone filled with admiration. "I've also heard from Ren about your plans. Know this, I fully support them. So let me handle the Elders, and you do your thing."
A genuine smile finally graced his face. "I'm glad to hear that. The hospital is in dire need of a shake-up; otherwise, like a diseased body, we will decay and perish," he emphasized, his words laced with a hint of subtle insinuation. The weight of his statement hung in the air, suggesting that the high-ranking members of the hospital, including Mari, may have played a part in allowing the situation to deteriorate this far. Mari, keenly perceptive, caught the underlying implication but remained unfazed. "Not all of us are world-acclaimed healers with nobles at our beck and call, and a legendary teacher supporting us in everything we do. We can only do what we can," she responded, her voice tinged with determination. Haruki looked at her in amusement, slightly impressed and relieved, reassured that she didn't take offense but understood the need for change.
He observed her silently for a moment before nodding affirmatively. "Do I get to keep my job?" she asked, a hint of intrigue in her voice. The irony that the Director of the Hospital is at the mercy of the Chief of the Medical Department not lost on them. But he's not just the next Chief, he's the Saint. "If I didn't believe you deserved it, I wouldn't have invited you to my house in the first place, Mari-san," he assured her gently. She burst into laughter, her genuine mirth echoing through the room.
"You're sharper than you look, O Saint-sama. But I guess no one can reach your level just by being a naive dumb bitch," she remarked, causing his eye to twitch at the colorful language. "I'm sure most people conveniently forget that you aren't just one hell of an iryo-nin, but also a disciple of a Legendary Sannin who can crack a mountain in half with her fist," she continued, cackling with laughter.
He joined in her laughter, relieved that she possessed the straightforwardness and wit he had hoped for. "Now, I'm sure you're busy with your noble endeavors, so let's get to the point, shall we? Why did you invite me here?" she inquired, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "I'm sure you've heard about what transpired yesterday," he stated. "The Daimyo doesn't bestow an army to deliver gifts every day," she remarked, finding humor in his situation.
"I have received numerous treasures and gifts, and I wish to utilize them for more productive purposes," he explained. She watched him intently, waiting for him to reveal his intentions. "I plan to fund a project that ensures orphans receive an annual health check-up. Additionally, funds will be set aside for expensive emergency treatments if deemed necessary," he disclosed.
"Ah, truly, your title suits you," she clapped her hands in excitement, recognizing the altruistic nature of his proposal. He sighed softly. "They are the most vulnerable individuals who cannot care for themselves. I am more than capable of providing the necessary support," he affirmed. She expressed her approval while her eyes wandered toward his grand mansion.
"The thing is, many clans could afford to do the same, yet you're the only one who actually does it," she observed. He shrugged in response. "I was hoping to start the project after the Fire Daimyo's birthday, which is approaching soon," he redirected the conversation. "We can conduct it in waves, spread out over several days, to avoid becoming overwhelmed."
"Time is tight, but I understand the idea," she responded, acknowledging the logistical challenge. Since the project was a gift from the Daimyo, he knew that the use of his gifts to benefit the less fortunate would not offend him. "It would have been chaotic if we had started before. But with the influx of new Hyuga recruits, I'm sure we'll manage," she remarked with delight, referring to the unexpected surge in Hyuga clan members joining the hospital. While he recognized that not everyone would stay as medical ninjas, he was confident that many would choose to remain. And if needed, he believed he could persuade the Hyuga Patriarch to see the potential of utilizing the Byakugan for medical ninjutsu. It was a waste for their eyes to be solely used for tracking. For a brief moment, he entertained the idea of supporting an internal coup if Hiashi proved unreasonable, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He would find another way.
"The project will be an annual event. It's also an opportunity to promote the importance of regular health check-ups as a healthy habit from a young age. After all, prevention is better than cure," he explained, his eyes sparkling with determination. "Why am I still the Hospital Director?" she playfully questioned. "Because I hate paperwork?" he answered innocently, causing her to freeze before bursting into a loud guffaw.
Just before she left, she turned back towards him and offered a respectful 90-degree bow. "On behalf of Konoha, I am truly grateful that you chose to come and work here," she expressed sincerely. Straightening her body, she looked back at him and continued, "We are truly fortunate and undeserving of your help." Her words carried a genuine sense of appreciation. "I look forward to a long partnership," she said, extending her hand, which he gladly accepted. "Me too, Mari-san," he replied, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Though do let me know when you're ready to take my job," she grinned mischievously. "At least let this woman resign with dignity," she added, laughing harder. He simply rolled his eyes at her dramatic remark. As he walked her out, he confirmed what he had been sensing for a while. Standing outside his house was a visibly anxious and somewhat hefty man, pacing back and forth. "Akimichi-san?" he called out to the man, causing him to yelp in surprise. "What are you doing here, Mamoru-san?" the Director asked, joining in the conversation.
No way. He couldn't believe it. The man turned red with embarrassment and slowly approached them. He would occasionally steal glances at Haruki before quickly averting his gaze, his face growing redder with each exchange. Mari shifted her gaze from the Akimichi to him, then back again, a sudden realization dawning on her.
Her eyes widened, and her smile grew blindingly bright as the fierce Hospital Director giggled like a high school girl. He raised an eyebrow at her swift change in demeanor. "I.. I..." both of them turned their attention towards the shy man. "Y.. Yes— Yesterday..." he stammered, quickly looking around to ensure no one else was listening.
In a soft whisper, he continued, "Yesterday was so good, Suzaku-sama," he confessed, taking a step back, his face turning a shade of red that threatened to engulf him. The faces of the other two contorted in confusion. Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. He slapped his palm against his other hand in realization. "Ah! Right! Yesterday," he exclaimed, his voice high with excitement as he unraveled the meaning behind the other man's stuttering. Mamoru's eyes widened, embarrassment dissipating as he approached Haruki, his eyes filled with desire and uncontrollable hunger. He looked as though he wanted to devour him.
Haruki nodded, smiling with slight embarrassment. "Yes, yes..." Before he could utter another word, Director Mari positioned herself in front of him, her aura radiating intensity, her chakra flaring alongside her emotions. "Mamoru-san, what do you think you're doing?" she whispered, her voice seething with anger and a hint of disgust.
She shunshined in front of the older man, her hands gripping his collar, ready to engage in a fight. "He's 12, Mamoru-san?!" she gritted out, her voice laced with disbelief. "B-But! It, it was soo... good," he moaned, lost in his own thoughts. Her right hand clenched into a fist, poised to strike the mesmerized man.
"Wait!" Haruki intervened, stepping between them. "Saint-sama," Mari emphasized, the weight of the situation evident in her tone. "He's twice your age, and you're only 12!!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with shock. "I'm all for love, but this—this is insane!" she tried to reason with him. "No, listen to me!" he quickly interjected.
"Akimichi-san, I won't let you do this. If you think you can—" "HAMBURGER!" Haruki screamed, abruptly cutting off their conversation. Silence ensued. Mari turned towards him, her expression questioning. "Akimichi-san is referring to how I shared half of my burger, my lunch, with him a few days ago," he explained. Mamoru snapped out of his daze at the mention of the glorious word, causing drool to uncontrollably escape his mouth, dampening Mari's grip on his collar. She winced in disgust before releasing him, allowing him to fall to the ground.
"What?" she asked urgently. "Burgers... food. A delectable combination of meat, vegetables, and condiments sandwiched between two buns," he quickly clarified, attempting to diffuse the tension. She looked at the two of them incredulously. "Food?" she asked, her tone dripping with disbelief. He gave her a knowing look, subtly pointing at the Akimichi clan symbol engraved on Mamoru's attire, raising an eyebrow in silent communication. "Of course, it's food," she deadpanned, letting out a loud sigh. "It's too early for this shit," she retorted, clearly exhausted, as she walked away.
Mamoru, still sitting on the floor, continued to gaze at Haruki with wide, longing eyes, his drooling unabated. Haruki contemplated for a moment, wondering if the 'spying eye' would make an appearance and say something. However, considering what he knew of the silver-haired individual, it seemed unlikely. "Akimi—", "Please call me Mamoru, Suzaku-sama," he interrupted, now back on his feet.
"Mamoru-kun, I didn't make burgers today," Haruki stated, noticing the man's despair as it contorted his face, as if he had lost an entire nation. He winced at the sheer level of disappointment emanating from Mamoru. "You didn't even come yesterday," he whispered, acknowledging the man's unwavering fixation on the food since that day.
"But I have something else," he smiled, successfully reigniting a glimmer of hope in those previously darkened eyes. "Think of it as layers of noodles, topped with tomato sauce, cheeses, creamy white sa—" The Akimichi's face lit up, his eyes sparkling in front of Haruki. No words needed to be exchanged. As they walked back to his house, he allowed a few more moments, half-expecting the 'spying eye" to reveal its presence, before finally entering the house.
Apparently, Mamoru and Choza are cousins. And now, here they were, with Mamoru's hand slithering over one of Haruki's arms while the other held a stack of two large dishes. He was being dragged in a hurried run towards the Akimichi compound, giving the impression that Mamoru was about to introduce Haruki to his family. Thankfully, Mari wasn't present, or she might have blown a vein witnessing this spectacle. Mamoru had practically shouted for Choza, his eyes fixated on the dish as if it held the secret to eternal happiness. Haruki had even attempted to disrupt his own chakra a few times, wondering if he was trapped in some kind of bizarre genjutsu. He knew the Akimichi had an affinity for food, but this was on a whole other level.
Choza, looking much younger than his appearance in the original canon, greeted them with a cheerful smile, seemingly unfazed by the commotion. "Choza, Choza! Remember what I told you about the burger? Look! A new kind of food! It's so, so, soooo good!" Mamoru exclaimed with childlike excitement, bouncing up and down.
Choza's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he approached them, extending a warm welcome. "Saint-dono, welcome to the Akimichi compound," he greeted Haruki warmly. "I apologize on behalf of Mam—" His words trailed off as the irresistible aroma of the dish reached his nostrils. His gaze fixated on the hot covered dish, his mouth watering uncontrollably. Oh, for the sake of kami.
Choza ushered both of them into the kitchen, hastily grabbing plates and utensils. Haruki carefully placed the dishes on the counter, slowly uncovering the first one, which prompted gasps of awe and mesmerized murmurs. Before them lay a perfectly crafted lasagna, like a work of art waiting to be admired. Steam gracefully rose from its surface, carrying the tantalizing scent of melted cheese, savory herbs, and rich tomato sauce. The golden-brown top layer beckoned with an irresistible allure, promising a symphony of flavors beneath.
The lasagna presented itself as a masterpiece of culinary artistry. Thick layers of tender pasta sheets nestled together, each one hidden beneath a luxurious blanket of velvety ricotta cheese, lightly caramelized edges, and a generous sprinkling of grated Parmesan. The vibrant crimson hue of the tomato sauce peeked through the gaps, adding a burst of color to the composition.
Noticing the Akimichi's eager expressions, ready to dive in with their hands, Haruki quickly intervened, skillfully cutting a portion of the dish. As his knife glided through the freshly baked lasagna, a delightful sound filled the air—a gentle, rhythmic symphony of tender pasta sheets, savory sauce, and layers of cheese parting ways. The soft sizzle of the knife breaking through the golden-brown crust resonated, followed by a subtle resistance as it sank deeper into the delectable depths of the dish. With each precise cut, a satisfying sound emerged—a harmonious combination of crispy edges giving way to the moist and flavorful core. It was a gratifying melody that signaled the imminent pleasure of savoring a slice of homemade lasagna.
As Haruki lifted the perfectly portioned slice from the pan, the fragrance of the lasagna wafted through the air, enveloping the room in an inviting aroma of freshly baked goodness. With finesse and care, he held the slice, its edges crisped to a golden perfection. Wisps of steam gracefully danced around the layers of pasta, rich tomato sauce, and creamy melted cheese. The vibrant colors of the dish were a feast for the eyes. The deep red of the tomato sauce intertwined with the pale ivory hue of the ricotta cheese, while flecks of green herbs added a touch of freshness. The layers were distinct, yet seamlessly melded together, promising a symphony of flavors in each mouthwatering bite. The true magnificence of the lasagna was revealed. The melted cheese stretched and glistened, forming tantalizing strands that clung to the fork and the slice itself. The sauce, thick and robust, cascaded down the layers, enveloping them in its rich embrace. The pasta, cooked to perfection, retained a delicate al dente texture, providing a satisfying bite that gave way to the luscious filling.
With a flourish, Haruki presents the slice of lasagna to the eager onlookers, the tantalizing creation suspended in mid-air. The room falls into a hushed silence as all eyes fixate on the masterpiece before them. The anticipation is palpable, mouths watering in eager anticipation of the symphony of flavors that await them. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, the essence of the lasagna captured in its suspended glory. It is a culinary masterpiece, a work of art crafted with love and expertise. And as Haruki lowers the slice onto each plate, the room erupts in a chorus of delight, eager hands reaching out to claim their share of this edible masterpiece.
"Dig in," he politely invites them. His words break the dam of restraint, and they all eagerly dig into the lasagna. He winces slightly, realizing how hot the lasagna must be, but it doesn't deter their enthusiasm. As the first forkfuls of lasagna reach their mouths, a transformative wave sweeps across their faces. Eyes widen in delight, a flicker of pure pleasure glimmering within their depths. Lips part, allowing the flavors to dance across their palates, and expressions of sheer satisfaction begin to materialize.
A symphony of reactions unfolds. Some close their eyes, savoring each bite with a sense of blissful indulgence. Others let out involuntary moans of pleasure, unable to contain the sheer delight that washes over their taste buds. The corners of their mouths curl upwards into joyous smiles, their features softened by the sheer ecstasy of the culinary experience.
As the flavors meld and intertwine, a profound sense of contentment settles upon them. The savory richness of the tomato sauce, the creamy decadence of the cheese, and the comforting embrace of the pasta create a harmonious symphony that resonates deep within their souls. It is a moment of pure culinary bliss, a respite from the trials of the day, and a celebration of the simple pleasures in life.
Haruki's senses detect the approach of someone whose chakra feels distinct from the Akimichi. Curiosity piques within him, and he attempts to spy on the chakra's source. It brims with yin energy, casting a shadow over the others. The sliding door opens, revealing a man of similar age to Choza, exuding an air of quiet intelligence and maturity beyond his years. With a lean and wiry frame, he possesses a calm and composed demeanor that belies his sharp intellect. His features are defined by a pair of sharp, calculating eyes that seem to hold a wealth of knowledge and observation. Dark hair cascades down to his shoulders, framing his face with a slightly disheveled yet effortlessly stylish appearance.
Dressed in the standard attire of a high ranking ninja, Shikaku exudes a sense of understated confidence. His long-sleeved black shirt and dark trousers bear the symbol of the Nara clan—a circular emblem representing their shadow manipulation abilities. The distinct mark serves as a reminder of his heritage and the legacy he carries.
Before Haruki can react to the arrival of the dark-haired man, Mamoru loudly leaps from across the table towards him. His eyes are delirious, seemingly drugged up from the lasagna, filled with so much joy and... desire? He holds both of Haruki's hands, promptly squealing, "MARRY ME!"
Silence ensues. Choza nods in agreement, while Shikaku, appearing resigned, looks up and drawls lazily, "What a drag..."