The sky was still dark and the morning air bit cold, yet Raftra and Kakashi were already inside Raftra Kitchen. They had arrived earlier than the day before, even before the first light crept over the village roofs.
The supplies for the second day were arranged on the kitchen table—and there were far more than yesterday.
Raftra knew they had run out of ingredients too quickly the previous day, so this time he made sure the stock was ample. Sacks of rice, fresh vegetables, chicken, spices, eggs, and flour were stacked in large quantities.
Raftra moved about the kitchen, busy from one end to the other. His right hand mixed batter for the martabak while his left prepared seasoning for the fried rice. His face was serious and his eyes focused—different from yesterday, there was no joking or casual commentary.
Since waking that morning he had barely spoken, only the necessary words. Kakashi noticed the change. He deliberately asked little, choosing instead to observe.
He sat more casually than usual at one of the customer tables, a small book open in his hands. Occasionally he turned a page, occasionally he glanced at Raftra as the boy hurried back and forth preparing food.
In his mind Kakashi thought, 'That nightmare must have been terrible for him to be so quiet today.'
'He's usually talkative, always with some comment—but now… so silent.'
Kakashi closed his book for a moment and set it on the table. His gaze remained fixed on Raftra. He could clearly see the teen's movements: quick, energetic, but cold.
No small jokes, no laughter, no sentences that normally slipped out unbidden. It felt as though Raftra had sealed himself off.
The sound of knife on cutting board rang clear as Raftra sliced vegetables. His hands moved fast, but his face stayed expressionless.
Kakashi let out a breath. 'If that was truly a nightmare, then it wasn't an ordinary one.'
'I know the signs of someone suffering from severe sleep trauma… their eyes are heavy, their motions stiff, and their thoughts seem elsewhere.'
'It's like seeing myself in the past—or perhaps, in the present.'
He relaxed back into his chair. He decided not to press. He knew some people needed time alone to find their footing again.
…
A few minutes later.
The sun climbed slowly and golden light filtered through the windows of Raftra Kitchen. The shop inside came alive, although customers had not yet arrived.
The scent of prepared spices and a thin waft of steam from the kitchen began to spread, lending the place a quiet comfort.
All preparations were complete—plates, glasses, chopsticks, and forks arranged neatly. The stove burned on a low flame, keeping oil warm so dishes could be cooked quickly.
Raftra stood by the door, twisting a cloth in his hands without realizing. He took a long breath and then pulled open the wooden sign that read "OPEN".
At the register, Kakashi sat in his usual relaxed pose. His chin rested on his hand and his eyes were half-closed as if sleepy. The small book lay beside him, but this time he did not read.
Raftra glanced briefly at him, his look was sharp and judging. His fingers kept moving restlessly as he watched Kakashi. 'It seems Kakashi knows I'm not myself today,' he thought.
'Then I must pretend and make him believe I'm okay, even if it's exhausting.'
He forced a thin smile and folded his restless hands behind his back to hide them. Half-joking, he spoke.
"It's funny, you know. Yesterday you told me I should hire staff so you wouldn't have to help anymore."
"But today you just sat at the register without me asking. Have you changed your mind?"
Kakashi swept his gaze from the window to Raftra and answered in a calm tone, "I'm just helping." He raised one hand in a casual gesture.
"Just helping?" Raftra raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. Besides, it would be a pity if someone who just had a nightmare had to work themselves to exhaustion," Kakashi replied.
Raftra fell silent a moment, then gave a soft chuckle. 'He's testing me, isn't he?'
He glanced out the window at the street coming to life and said, "Even though Kakashi-san's face is always flat, his words are brief, and sometimes he seems cold… but actually, you're a good person. You care about those around you."
Kakashi gave no direct reply. He only regarded Raftra with his characteristic blank expression. Inside, however, he felt a little relieved.
'His sarcastic remark bounced back—that means the nightmare is slowly losing its grip,' he thought.
'Good. If he stays gloomy, the shop could collapse today.'
The mood in Raftra Kitchen lightened slightly. Raftra relaxed visibly, even if the ease was a small lie.
"You didn't answer," Raftra said. "Was what I just said true?"
"I don't know… I can't answer that," Kakashi replied.
"Heh… typical," Raftra said.
…
That morning Raftra Kitchen was busier than the previous day. As the sun rose, customers came one after another.
This time many more people arrived—especially those who had failed to buy food yesterday because supplies ran out. They came earlier to avoid being disappointed again.
Raftra moved deftly in the kitchen. His hands stirred the woks, sliced ingredients, and plated dishes with speed. Each time he came out with food, a friendly smile graced his face.
He greeted patrons warmly, ensuring everyone felt comfortable dining in his place.
Meanwhile, Kakashi sat calmly at the register. Occasionally he jotted orders neatly, handed off tickets, and accepted payments.
When there was no queue, he would return to his habit: reading his book as if the surrounding bustle was merely background noise.
Hour by hour customers arrived and left, replaced by new faces. The cycle repeated without pause. Raftra and Kakashi fell into the rhythm as if they had done it for much longer than two days.
Around ten in the morning, the shop door burst open and a loud voice filled the room.
"KAKASHI! IT'S BEEN A WHILE!"
Several patrons turned, startled, the room's chatter rose. Raftra, who had just set a bowl of spaghetti on a table, also looked toward the door.
'Huh? Is that Guy?' His eyes widened when a man in tight green clothing, bowl-cut hair, and thick eyebrows strode in with boundless energy.
Guy waved at Kakashi with enthusiasm. "So you're out of ANBU and working here now?" he asked in his usual warm tone.
Kakashi, sitting behind the register, gave a lazy glance and closed his book. In his flat voice he replied, "I don't work here. And I didn't leave ANBU. I'm still on duty."
"Oh," Guy said. "I thought you had quit after hearing the rumor you were working here."
Raftra, who had just finished delivering a plate, stepped forward. "Kakashi-san, who is this man?" he asked.
Guy did not wait for an answer. Confidently he slapped his own chest. "I am Kakashi's eternal rival and close friend! My name is Might Guy!"
Raftra extended his hand politely. "Nice to meet you… I'm Raftra. Pleasure to meet Kakashi-san's close friend."
Guy gripped Raftra's hand with an overly strong shake that made Raftra wince slightly, but he smiled and let go. 'He's very energetic,' he thought.
After introductions, Raftra glanced at Kakashi and said with a small grin, folding his arms, "I'm surprised… Kakashi, who's always calm and reserved, actually has a friend whose personality could not be more different."
Guy laughed loudly, his voice carrying across the room and drawing looks. "That's what friendship is! We fill each other's gaps! Kakashi with his calm, and I with my spirit—we're like fire and water."
Kakashi only sighed softly, resting his chin on his hand. His face stayed flat and languid, but he clearly had long since grown accustomed to Guy's exuberance.
Raftra observed them both. 'Their contrast is striking, and that's what makes it interesting,' he thought.
He placed a simple menu in front of Guy and asked warmly, "So, what would you like? Take a look."
Guy grabbed the menu eagerly and scanned it.
"Fried rice, spaghetti, sweet-and-spicy-sour chicken, breaded fried chicken, egg martabak…" He paused, frowned, and thought for a moment.
"These dishes sound unfamiliar, except for fried rice," he said.
Raftra nodded and pointed to the menu. "It's natural they sound foreign. These are my original recipes, not common village fare."
"So, Guy-san, which will you try?"
Guy's eyes shone with curiosity. "I'll try everything! I want to know what each dish tastes like!" he declared.
Raftra was not surprised. He smiled, stretched his hands, and said, "Very well, wait a moment. I'll prepare them all."
Guy nodded and confidently produced money. Kakashi looked on lazily and accepted payment without much comment.
While waiting, Guy leaned against the register and lowered his voice so only Kakashi could hear. "Hey, Kakashi… who is that teenager really? And you said you're still on ANBU duty—what do you mean by that?"
Kakashi closed his book and looked at Guy for a moment, then resumed his relaxed posture and answered in a low voice, "Raftra is an acquaintance of the Hokage. My current duty is to guard and surveil him."
'Better not be completely honest with him, just give him the basics,' Kakashi thought.
Guy furrowed his brow and folded his arms. "So does Raftra know you're watching him?"
Kakashi nodded briefly. "I don't know, I never gave it much thought."
Guy grew more perplexed. "Then who are you protecting him from? He's just a teenager selling food. Maybe he's a wealthy youth in disguise?"
Kakashi shook his head. "No. He's not rich. He's an ordinary person, but not from this village."
"That's why the Hokage worried someone might mean him harm, so he assigned me to keep an eye on him for a while."
Guy listened intently and then nodded in understanding. "I see… an unusual assignment, but if it's the Hokage's orders, it makes sense."
'This is enough information for Guy, the rest I'll keep,' Kakashi concluded.
From the kitchen came the rapid clatter of spatulas on woks. The aroma of fried rice and spices filled the room, making Guy swallow in anticipation.
Soon Raftra emerged from the kitchen carrying a large tray brimming with food. He set all the ordered dishes down in front of Guy with swift but neat movements.
The aroma spread immediately, Guy's eyes widened. "Wow! You prepared all that so quickly!" he exclaimed.
Raftra smiled confidently. "Of course. The cooking system here differs from other stands. I use a fast-service setup."
"So within five minutes everything must be finished. At most seven minutes."
Guy leaned forward, genuinely curious. "Why so fast? Doesn't good cooking usually require time for flavors to develop?"
Raftra met his gaze calmly. "Why not? Customers prefer their food quickly. They don't want to wait long to eat."
Guy nodded but still squinted in thought. "Speed is good, but what about consistency? Can food cooked that fast still retain quality?"
Raftra lifted his chin slightly. "Absolutely. With a good system and supporting tools, anything is possible."
"Speed need not sacrifice quality. With the right technique, results stay consistent."
Guy crossed his arms and seemed impressed. "Hmm… so you're confident you can keep both speed and quality?"
Raftra gave a thumbs-up. "Correct. I'm still a bit inconsistent with timing because I'm cooking alone now. But when I have staff, I'll ensure orders finish on time—maybe even in three minutes."
Guy fell silent briefly, then smiled broadly, eyeing the spread. "Alright, I'll judge by taste."
He attacked the food with his characteristic zeal. First the fried rice—his eyes closed for a moment as he chewed, then he nodded with satisfaction.
"Incredible! This fried rice tastes unlike any I've had. The seasoning is perfect—savory, with something uniquely striking. Truly delicious!"
Then he tried the breaded fried chicken. His posture straightened. "Amazing! Crispy yet tender inside. How did you balance it like this, Raftra?"
Raftra only smiled and let him continue.
Next came the sweet-and-spicy-sour chicken. Guy paused a beat after swallowing, then declared loudly, "The sweet, sour, and spicy are balanced—none overpowering, yet each pronounced. Honestly, I've never tasted anything with such harmony!"
He moved to the spaghetti. "This is stranger still. I didn't even know what spaghetti was before, but this… is phenomenal. The texture is soft, the sauce thick—so different from village food."
Finally he bit into the egg martabak and burst out laughing, amazed that such a simple egg dish could hold such complex flavor.
"This is insane! Of all these dishes, I would never have expected such depth from something so simple. You're a culinary genius, Raftra!"
After the last bite, Guy slapped the table enthusiastically. "I wouldn't doubt the food just because it's fast-cooked. These flavors prove speed isn't the issue when technique is right!"
Raftra nodded, pleased with Guy's reaction, and rapped his shoulder lightly. "Enjoy the meal. I'll return to the kitchen."
Guy gave a thumbs-up. "Leave it to me! I'll finish everything!"
Raftra went back to the register. No new customers had come in, so he sat beside Kakashi.
Folding his hands on the table, Raftra said softly, "I like people like Guy. Energetic, full of life. Having acquaintances like that makes days brighter—not dull or monotonous."
Kakashi, still bearing his lazy expression, closed his book for a moment. "Your taste in friends is odd."
Raftra chuckled. "But you're also friends with Guy, right? So you're equally strange."
Kakashi snorted and returned to his book. 'I'm odd too, huh…' he mused.
After a lull, Kakashi broke the silence. He closed his book halfway and said quietly, "I didn't mean to bring it up, but I am curious."
Raftra tilted his head. "About what?"
Kakashi hesitated, then asked, "If you don't mind me asking… what nightmare did you have last night?"
Raftra's fingers stilled abruptly.
"If you're not ready to talk, that's fine. Don't answer," Kakashi added.
Raftra gave a small laugh, glanced briefly at Kakashi, then looked forward again.
"Are you asking because you care… or because Lord Hiruzen ordered you to learn everything about me?" he asked.
Kakashi did not answer directly. He looked at Raftra with half-closed eyes, then nodded slowly.
It was unclear whether the nod meant "yes, I care" or "yes, it's a duty." He left the meaning hanging.
'That nod might mean both,' Raftra thought.
'So… should I tell the truth? Lie? Or remain silent?'
His legs jittered slightly beneath the table, his breath uneven, his fingers drumming against folded hands.
He inhaled deeply and finally spoke. "Alright, I'll answer. But it might not be the answer you expect."
He lowered his head briefly, hesitation visible. "I dreamed about the future—a future where the villagers don't accept me."
"Everyone sees me as an outsider, someone unfit to stay. In the dream, they drove me out."
He raised his face and forced a thin, clearly contrived smile. "The dream felt real. Too real."
"I remember the shouts telling me to leave and the emptiness of having no one by my side."
'Of course I can't tell them the whole truth about this dream,' he thought.
Kakashi regarded Raftra with a more serious look than usual, his hand reflexively reached, as if to pat Raftra's shoulder, but stopped. "I thought you'd dreamt about the torture from before."
Raftra managed a faint smile. "That trauma still lingers. Sometimes I dream about the torture, but it never felt as crushing as that last dream."
"Strangely, this dream pressed harder than the memories of that abuse."
Silence returned. The low murmur of other customers sounded in the background.
Raftra leaned back, looking at Kakashi with an expression that was hard to read—partly sorrowful, partly something else—but noticeably different from his usual demeanour.
"So… do you have any advice? How does one rid themselves of such trauma?" he asked.
Kakashi shook his head slowly. "I don't know. What I've done is remain quiet and hope it fades."
"But it doesn't simply vanish. Years pass and the mind grows accustomed to it."
"The intensity diminishes, even if the feeling remains."
Raftra listened carefully and nodded. "So it's not that it disappears, but that you learn to live with it—until it troubles you less."
"In that case… I suppose all I can do is accept it and hope it eases over time."