Ninja World: Power through Bonds

The most renowned spot for barbeque in Konoha was undoubtedly Yakiniku.

There was a persistent rumor that the Akimichi clan had a financial stake in the restaurant, but it had never been officially confirmed. Denji, however, knew the truth. The Akimichi clan's secret techniques consumed enormous amounts of energy, requiring regular nutritional replenishment. In other words, a single Akimichi member could eat as much as five average ninjas.

Relying solely on their mission paychecks would leave half the clan starving, so supplementing their income through business ventures became a necessity.

Yakiniku wasn't cheap. Even ninjas felt the pinch when footing the bill for a full meal, and the Akimichi clan members were no exception—they had to pay like everyone else. This explained why Akimichi Chōji always looked so thrilled during his visits, while Sarutobi Asuma often seemed weighed down. If even the Hokage's son felt the financial strain, it was no wonder that Hyuga Hizashi, with his average income, was sweating bullets when he saw the sheer amount Denji intended to order.

"Denj... Denji." Hizashi's voice quivered as he saw the order slip. "Twenty plates of marinated beef? That's... a lot. Maybe we should start with half?"

"Relax, Sensei." Denji flashed a sunny, confident smile. "I've got a healthy appetite, and I skipped breakfast. Twenty plates should just about do it for me. You guys should order what you want—no need to hold back on my account."

Hizashi's stomach churned. 'Who's holding back for your sake?' The Hyuga elder felt like resigning on the spot. This wasn't a student—this was a bandit in ninja clothing. Thankfully, the two girls showed some restraint, each ordering only three plates of meat along with a few sides and snacks.

When the waiter arrived with the food, it quickly became apparent that the table wasn't large enough to hold everything. A cart had to be wheeled over. With the meal underway, Hizashi resigned himself to his fate, deciding not to think too hard about the bill. To soothe his nerves, he ordered himself a bottle of sake.

"Would you two like a drink as well?" he asked the girls.

"I'll have shochu," Kurenai said with an eager smile. Meanwhile, Uzuki Yugao shook her head. "I'll stick to milk, like Denji."

Though technically underage, the two young kunoichi were far from ordinary children. In a profession as high-stakes as theirs, even teenagers faced constant life-and-death situations.

Among the three so-called "prohibitions" for ninjas—drinking, overindulgence, and greed—alcohol was considered the least damaging. For many, it became a form of release, a way to briefly forget the dangers lurking around every corner. As long as they didn't drink while on duty, it was an acceptable indulgence.

With the drinks served, the four raised their glasses in a toast. Kurenai, holding her glass aloft, deliberately angled it toward Denji with a playful smirk, as if to say, "Still need your big sister to look after you, huh?"

Denji ignored her teasing. He picked up two pieces of beef, popped them into his mouth, and calmly chewed, unimpressed.

Kurenai, clearly irritated, made a mental note to remember this exchange. Huffing, she went to chat with Yugao and Hizashi, leaving Denji to eat in peace.

As the atmosphere turned more relaxed, Hizashi slipped into the role of a friendly, down-to-earth uncle. He shared war stories, field missions, and bits of his personal life. Soon, the talk shifted to his young son, Neji, who was only two or three years old.

Whenever Hizashi spoke of Neji, his expression softened. "If Neji can have even half of your talent, Denji," he said with a wistful smile, "I'd be satisfied."

Kurenai jumped in to offer her own encouragement. "Teacher, don't worry! Neji will surpass him one day."

Denji, in between bites of beef, calmly replied, "I'm not sure about being better than me, but I'm sure he'll surpass you."

This earned a chuckle from Hizashi. "Cheeky brat! Just wait until you're old enough to drink. I'll get you so drunk you won't know which way's up."

Denji simply continued to eat, unfazed. His single-minded focus on the food frustrated Hizashi, who threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Eat all you want. Just remember, if I can't pay the bill, I'll be stuck here washing dishes."

Half an hour later, Hizashi stared at the bill, his face a mix of disbelief and resignation. A hundred thousand ryo—nearly as much as a B-rank mission's payout.

'The sky is falling! Neji, don't hold it against your dad if you end up shorter than average.'

Blame Denji—he's the one who ate through your entire milk fund.

"I'm never taking you out for yakiniku again," he muttered, shaking his head.

The mood shifted as Hizashi laid out their upcoming schedule. "We'll take tomorrow off, then start our missions the day after. No need to bother with D-rank errands. Rest up, restock your gear, and be at the Hokage's office by nine."

The team dispersed, each heading home. Yugao lingered a moment, watching Denji's retreating figure as it faded into the night, a curious glint in her eyes.

—

Denji didn't go straight home. Instead, he headed for the Root's underground base, confident that his grandfather, Danzo, was working late.

He found Danzo exactly where he'd expected—in his office, pen in hand, surrounded by stacks of documents. Danzo glanced up as Denji strolled in and dropped onto the worn sofa.

"You're back," Danzo remarked, setting down his pen. "How are the new teammates? The new teacher? Are they to your liking?"

Denji nodded. "Not bad."

In terms of raw power, his teammates weren't the strongest, but they weren't liabilities either. And, to Denji's amusement, they were pleasant enough to look at—two attractive, young kunoichi certainly made the day's work less dull.

Still, Denji couldn't help but voice the question that had been nagging him. "Why Hizashi? The Hyuga branch house doesn't usually send Jōnin to lead teams like mine. And what about the original teammate? Why the sudden change?"

Danzo's response was a slow, deliberate smile—the kind that managed to be both smug and infuriating.

...

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