Chapter 7 — Dinner at the Sarutobi Residence
Friday. The end of the week.
After the final class, as everyone packed their things, Asuma approached me. He looked nervous but tried to act casual.
"Hey… Raigatsu," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Um… I was thinking, maybe you'd… like to come over to my place tonight? For dinner. My mom's cooking, and… it's just a quiet thing. We could talk. No pressure."
I looked at him steadily. He avoided my gaze.
"All right," I said. "If your family is okay with it."
"They're totally fine with it! I mean, my mom will be glad. And my brother… probably won't care. My dad... well, he won't say anything. Just come by at six."
I nodded. He quickly ran off.
At six sharp, I stood at the gate of the Sarutobi residence. A modest but warm house with a garden. Asuma opened the door, now in casual clothes.
"Hey," he mumbled. "Come in. Make yourself at home."
I stepped inside. The air was warm. The smell of food, distant voices, wooden floors. Somewhere, someone was laughing.
From the kitchen came a woman in an apron, middle-aged with thick hair. She smiled warmly right away.
"Oh, so you're Kiyemi?" she said cheerfully. "I'm Biwako. Mother of this shy little troublemaker. Come on, shoes off. Don't just stand there."
I nodded politely.
"Thank you for the invitation."
"Oh, nonsense," she waved it off. "Dinner's nearly ready. You two sit in the living room. Asuma, pour the tea. And if you drop any cups like last time, I'll make you clean the whole kitchen!"
Asuma blushed.
We sat in the living room. The table was simple but well-prepared — rice, steamed fish, vegetables. Biwako served everything proudly, tossing in jokes. Then, casually:
"So, Asuma, you're only four and already bringing girls home?"
He choked, dropping his chopsticks.
"Mom!"
"I just asked," she said innocently. "But she's adorable. So serious. I like her."
I pretended not to hear. But my lips twitched slightly.
Later, closer to evening, the door opened. A tall man entered, dressed in black with no symbols. Strict face, tired eyes.
"That's my brother," Asuma whispered. "Shinnōsuke. He works… in administration. Very busy."
"Good evening," I said.
Shinnōsuke nodded, giving me a sharp, curious look.
"So you're Raigatsu Kiyemi. Top of the Academy. Nice to meet you. Asuma talks about you a lot."
"Really?" I turned to Asuma.
He blushed for the third time that evening.
"I just… well… you…"
"All right, enough," Shinnōsuke smirked. "Has Mom tried to marry you two off yet?"
"Almost," Asuma muttered.
"Great. Then we just need to wait for Dad," his brother said dryly and disappeared into the kitchen.
The Hokage arrived near nine.
Even without robes or hat, he radiated presence. Hiruzen Sarutobi. Old, sharp-eyed. He looked me over calmly.
"So you're Raigatsu Kiyemi," he said as he took off his sandals. "No clan, no sponsors, and yet every sensei is talking about you."
I stood and bowed.
"Lord Hokage."
"Here, I'm just a father. Sit down."
He lowered himself onto a floor cushion. For a while, we chatted about trivial things — the weather, Academy life. Then he asked:
"Tell me, Kiyemi… what do you think it means to be a shinobi?"
I answered without hesitation:
"It's a path. Not a game. Not for fame. To protect. Those around me."
Hiruzen nodded.
"That's the Will of Fire. Seeing beyond yourself. Being ready to sacrifice. You understand… too early."
He puffed his pipe.
"Maybe you'll keep that will. Maybe you won't burn out. We'll see."
Later, as the mood lightened, Biwako brought sweets. We sat together in the living room. Asuma kept glancing my way, trying to speak — then staying silent.
Shinnōsuke watched us with a half-smile. Then he whispered to the Hokage:
"You think something might come of this?"
"Who knows," Hiruzen said. "But they're already changing each other. That matters more."
As I prepared to leave, Biwako hugged me.
"Come back sometime," she said. "We don't bite. Even if you're too serious and way too talented."
Asuma walked me to the door.
"Hey… thanks for coming."
"It was a nice evening," I said. "Thank you."
He scratched his cheek.
"Maybe… again sometime?"
I nodded. He fell quiet. I left.
Later, back in the house:
"Asuma," Hiruzen said as his son returned, "Don't let people like her slip away. But remember — this isn't a game."
"I know," his son said quietly.
He stared out the window. At the waning moon.
And thought about those golden eyes — calm, determined, without fear or pride.
And strangely… warm.