Ever since that "life-saving grace," the thread between Kushina and Ryo had become tangled in a way neither could cut loose.
To Kushina, Ryo was no longer fierce, but a peculiar guy whose words never matched his heart.
He let her steal food off his plate, tolerated her endless questions after class, and didn't even chase her away when she dragged along her unreasonable older sister, Tsunade.
And perhaps out of guilt for the chaos she had caused the previous night, Tsunade secretly dropped off bags of rice and bundles of ingredients at Ryo's place, hiding it from Kushina. Whether they truly came from her, or if Mito supplied them and she merely passed them along, no one could say for sure.
Thus, the "Senju Clan Meal Group" officially opened in his rundown little yard. The unspoken arrangement was simple: Tsunade supplied the food, easing the strain on his meager budget, while Ryo handled the cooking.
The golden glow of the setting sun spilled lazily across the yard. Tsunade sprawled on the only somewhat intact bench, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Hey! Ryo! What's for dinner tonight? Roast meat's getting boring. Let's have something else!"
Ryo was busy.
In front of him wasn't just a grill, but the full spread of his "manly kitchen" setup: a newly added stone mortar pounding spices, a wicker basket of smoked meat sending up blue smoke, and a large stew pot bubbling with fragrance.
Kushina sat beside Tsunade, her face flushed, eyes sparkling as they darted between the dishes.
"Ryo! I brought some mushrooms I found in the forest. Can they go in the soup?"
Ryo didn't look up. "Put them there. I'll use what's worth using."
He swiftly flipped a huge wild boar leg, rotating it over the makeshift grill.
The pig leg, pre-marinated with his special spicy sauce, sizzled as flames licked its skin. Fat dripped onto the charcoal with loud cracks, and the smoky aroma mixed with rich meat scent, dominating the entire yard.
On the stone slab nearby, several slices of tenderloin, thin as cicada wings, sprinkled with coarse salt and wild scallions, baked slowly in the residual heat.
"So fragrant!" Tsunade sniffed deeply, her appetite overriding her complaints.
Kushina, like a little gluttonous cat, sniffed the air vigorously, her face glowing.
Ryo deftly lifted the lid of the large iron pot. The boiling milky-white soup, filled with chunks of meat, shiitake mushrooms, and wild vegetables, bubbled. The aroma of scallions and ginger burst out with the steam, joining the olfactory feast.
This was the rich broth he had simmered since the afternoon using bones and scraps, now at its peak.
The yard was filled with the overwhelming scent of home cooking, so fragrant it made one's stomach churn.
Tsunade's appetite was bottomless, her consumption nothing short of outrageous.
But since she was basically sponsoring the food now, Ryo held his tongue. Besides, he still had his own backup stock: dried meat strips, carefully marinated and air-dried, wild spices, dried vegetables, and fungi gathered from the Forest of Death—emergency rations in case her supply ever ran dry.
…
The next evening after school, Ryo, dragging his exhausted body back home, froze at the sight before him.
A small wooden cart was parked at the gate, piled high like a small mountain.
Two whole racks of fresh jungle deer ribs, wrapped in banana leaves, sat exposed.
Beside them was a basket of wild vegetables and mushrooms, fresh enough to drip water.
Several heavy pottery jars were stacked neatly, filled with soy sauce, vinegar, and soybean oil.
And from the cart handle dangled a string of fat, squawking wild chickens.
Kushina strained with all her strength, her face red as she pushed the overloaded cart through the gate. The wheels dug deep grooves into the muddy ground.
"What are you doing?" Ryo strode over and grabbed the cart.
Kushina's eyes lit up as she wiped sweat from her brow. "Ingredients! I bought them! Quick, push it inside. Fresh fish will be delivered soon too. They'll spoil if left outside!" Her tone carried pride.
As Ryo pushed the cart in, he eyed Kushina. Her simple clothes and ordinary look clashed with the pile of expensive ingredients.
"Where did you get the money to buy all this?" he asked, frowning.
"I have money!" Kushina puffed her chest. "Grandma Mito gave me my family's rent from dozens of shops on an entire street…"
An entire street? Ryo raised an eyebrow.
So this red-haired brat trailing him every day was actually a hidden rich girl.
"While I appreciate this, don't do it again." Ryo started moving the ingredients down.
He said this, but his eyes couldn't help sweeping over the deer ribs, their texture gleaming in the sunset. Dozens of cooking methods instantly flashed through his mind.
"But Tsunade-neesan said if we eat your food, we have to pay for it!" Kushina said firmly.
Speak of the devil, Tsunade arrived.
The moment she saw the mountain of ingredients, her eyes shone like stars.
"Oh! A big feast tonight? Kushina, your eye for shopping is amazing! These deer ribs… tsk, roasted they'll burst with juice. Braised with honey oil… hurry up, Ryo, please get started!"
"Kushina, let's pick the ribs with moderate fat, cut them into chunks, rub with salt and honey, roast them to eighty percent! Leave the tender piece, coat it with spicy sauce and pan-fry it slowly!" Tsunade said confidently, clapping Kushina on the shoulder.
(To be continued.)
Chapter 22: Lonely Mito
Ryo got to work, while Kushina, her hands on her cheeks, stared at him. She found it strangely addictive.
She liked watching Ryo focus.
Even though he was always gruff, his movements were sharp and violent, like he was cutting enemies instead of ingredients. Yet the food that landed on the table was always terrifyingly generous in portion, and so delicious it made one want to swallow their tongue.
She could feel that, beneath Ryo's hard shell, he wasn't rejecting her presence anymore. That warmed her heart.
Thus, a bizarre yet highly efficient "iron triangle" formed:
Tsunade – Responsible for fighting. Under the excuse of "training," her main goal was to burn through Ryo's stamina.
Kushina – Responsible for buying. With the Uzumaki clan's little rich girl "money power," she bought top-quality ingredients that Tsunade ordered (and that she herself wanted to eat). She often slipped in spices, wild honey, and other novelties.
Ryo – Responsible for cooking.
His cooking moved as smooth as flowing water. A giant bone stick rotated, dripping oil on the grill. A whole chicken, coated in batter, was shoved into a mud oven. Deer chops sizzled on the stone slab. A pot of milky-white soup boiled heavily beside it.
The richness of the stew, the char of the grill, the subtle fragrance of the pan-fried, the sealed mystery inside the oven, even the smoky aroma from the curing rack in the corner… together, they filled the entire broken-down courtyard with an intoxicating scent.
With high-quality ingredients and Kushina's "experiments" added in, Ryo's cooking skills were thoroughly activated.
The once-empty baskets filled up with grilled skewers, dried jerky, and smoked wild game of different flavors.
The curing rack dripped with half-finished products, fragrant with pine and fruit wood.
He even started trying new tricks, using Kushina's wild honey with coarse salt to make honey-glazed jerky, or pounding spicy wild fruits into sauces to brush over skewers. Mushrooms and wild greens were tested in stews.
Occasionally, when Kushina cried from a new spicy sauce, gulping water yet still taking another bite, a flicker of amusement crossed his eyes before vanishing. Even he didn't notice it.
Day by day, the courtyard clattered with pots and pans, full of bustle and noise.
But the busier this courtyard grew, the more neglected the Senju mansion felt.
Inside the old Senju residence, the golden glow of the setting sun fell on the long dining table, lined with several warm, untouched dishes.
Uzumaki Mito gazed at the empty seats. Only Nawaki was there, shoveling rice silently, eating fast like it would save him from small talk with his grandmother.
Mito sighed gracefully, her voice light, tinged with just the right amount of melancholy.
"Nawaki…"
Nawaki choked, looked up nervously, and swallowed his rice.
"G-Grandma?"
"These days," Mito's eyes drifted over the two empty spots that belonged to Tsunade and Kushina, her tone soft and slow, "don't you think… it's a little too quiet?"
Nawaki stiffened. He glanced at the seats, then nodded blankly. "Y-yeah. Sister and Kushina haven't been coming back to eat." He thought his grandmother was simply stating a fact.
"Yes." Mito's voice softened further, like a drifting feather. "Before, your sister was always out. Now she has a new place. And that child, Kushina… it is a good thing to have a close friend. But…" She paused, her eyes fixed gently on Nawaki's face, "this large mansion, at dinner, leaves only an old woman and a boy silently facing each other. My heart feels empty and unsettled. The quiet is almost unnerving."
Nawaki's scalp tingled.
Mito spoke with such genuine emotion. But what could he do? A half-grown boy talking history with his legendary grandmother to ease her loneliness?
He grinned sheepishly, buried his head, and focused on shoveling rice, as if hiding inside the bowl.
Mito sipped her tea with perfect composure.
A few evenings later, Ryo's courtyard was at its busiest.
Tsunade licked the last of the honey glaze off a rib, wiped her oily hands on her clothes, and leaned back in satisfaction.
Ryo crouched nearby, tossing greasy skewers stripped of meat into a water bucket.
Kushina hummed off-key while sweeping up banana leaves into a basket.
The heavy aroma of meat, charcoal, and spice lingered stubbornly.
Then, a figure appeared at the gate, framed by the twilight.
Uzumaki Mito, dressed in a simple kimono, stood silently, her eternal gentle smile fixed on the lively courtyard.
Kushina froze. "Grandma Mito? Why are you here?"
Tsunade raised an eyebrow, a flicker of guilt flashing through her eyes.
Ryo stopped scrubbing and let the water drip from his hands. His muscles tensed instinctively, remembering the pressure he once felt at the Senju residence gate.
He never underestimated this widow of the God of Shinobi, this legend of Uzumaki.
"Grandma," Tsunade muttered, guilty as if caught sneaking out.
Mito ignored her. Her eyes fell on the oil-stained corner of Kushina's clothes.
"Kushina," her voice carried a soft sigh, "these days, at Grandma's house, it's just Nawaki eating with me. So quiet."
The loneliness in her tone made Kushina's chest tighten.
"Ah, too quiet." Then her gaze moved, falling on the red-haired boy in the corner. His face was cold, expression locked, water dripping from his hands. Her eyes softened, but the authority in her voice allowed no refusal.
"So, Kushina," Mito said gently, "next time, bring your friend Ryo-kun. Come home for dinner together, won't you?"
Ryo's eyes narrowed. "Huh?"
Kushina's eyes lit up in surprise.
Bring Ryo to Grandma's house? For dinner?
That was a huge step.
(To be continued.)