Night had fallen over Konoha.
The streets were quiet now, as families gathered inside their homes. Lanterns on wooden porches cast soft golden glows onto the stone roads, mingling with distant laughter and the warmth of life tucked away behind paper-thin walls.
In one quiet corner of this village, a special dinner was underway—
Not because of luxurious dishes or rare sake—
But because the people seated around this table… would one day leave their marks on the history of the shinobi world.
At Minato and Kushina's home, Satoru and Eren found their seats around a modest meal. It was a simple dinner—home-cooked, warm—but something about it made it unforgettable. There was a calm, almost nostalgic comfort in the air. But underneath that soft glow…
There was a weight.
Kushina would soon enter isolation—training to control the power of the Nine-Tails sealed within her.
No one said it out loud.
But everyone knew.
One year apart.
Long enough to separate two lovers.
Long enough to leave one man silently worrying, night after night.
Minato didn't speak of it.
He simply reached over and gently placed food into Kushina's bowl.
That small gesture spoke louder than words.
And Kushina?
She smiled, bright and radiant as always—but in her eyes, behind the sparkle… there was sorrow.
Satoru watched them quietly, a strange emotion stirring in his chest.
Minato. Kushina. Eren.
People who were willing to sacrifice personal dreams and happiness for something greater than themselves.
Compared to them… he—a once-lonely otaku screaming behind a computer screen—felt utterly small. Embarrassingly small.
But at least, Satoru thought with a smirk—
He could eat more than any of them.
As the meal began, bowls began stacking beside Satoru like bricks forming a tower.
At first, everyone continued chatting normally.
But then…
All eyes slowly turned to the unnatural speed at which Satoru was demolishing plate after plate.
Kushina paused mid-bite, blinking rapidly.
Minato smiled, but clearly had no words.
And Orochimaru…?
He calmly pulled out a notebook, uncapped a pen, and began scribbling with eerie precision.
"Faster-than-normal intake rate… zero signs of abdominal tension… natural stomach expansion… digestive adaptation—remarkably unique. Worth further observation."
Satoru waved off the weird stares and kept going, scooping another massive helping into his bowl.
But then—Kushina darted back into the kitchen, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
"Oh-hoh?! I need to see where his limit actually is! Time for another round!!"
Obito cheered from across the room:
"You guys don't get it! Satoru-sensei ALWAYS eats like this! Kakashi nearly dies cooking every time!"
Kakashi looked up, eyeing Obito sideways with his usual deadpan tone:
"If you want to praise Sensei, fine. But don't drag me into it."
Eren chuckled, arms folded, his eyes soft.
It had been so long since he felt this kind of warmth.
A real meal. A real table.
A place where no one was trying to survive the next mission.
Just laugh. Eat. Exist.
And Satoru—
Buried beneath a tower of empty dishes, surrounded by voices he'd once known only through a glowing screen…
He felt something rare.
Gratitude.
Grateful to be here.
Grateful to share this moment.
Grateful that—just for tonight—he wasn't someone caught between two worlds.
Tonight, he belonged.
End of Chapter.