Hm?
The heavy stench of smoke mixed with a trace of hostile disdain.
Hakken Yoru's eyes met Asuma Sarutobi's.
Glancing once at the "No Smoking" notice the dango shop owner had deliberately nailed to the wall, Hakken let out a small smile.
So this is the Hokage's son?
Asuma Sarutobi.
In the anime, a bearded man who left little impression, dragged out of the archives now and then to rehash old drama.
What Hakken remembered most vividly was the scene where Asuma left behind a young widow and went off to die so casually. Laughable.
Looking at Asuma's history: a rebellious youth who once left Konoha, became one of the Guardian Twelve, foolishly mistaking the daimyo for the "jewel" Hiruzen spoke of.
Only when death came for him did he finally think of Kurenai Yūhi, who would carry his child. Only then did he realize that children—not treasures—were the real jewels.
But right now, sitting here smoking in a dango shop, he was still just an immature man.
His death in the original story had been staged to feel tragic, moving even.
But…
With age, Hakken found himself feeling nothing for this character.
Both were sons of a Hokage.
Yet the gap between him and Naruto was a chasm.
And as a man—he hadn't even given his woman a proper name before his death, leaving her pregnant and unmarried.
Whichever way you looked at it, he was a failure.
The Hokage's son? How laughable.
"Cough… cough!"
Public smoking bans existed for a reason.
Anko and Kurenai both looked uncomfortable, coughing from the acrid tobacco smoke, their expressions showing clear displeasure.
Anyone with a shred of manners would have stubbed out the cigarette and apologized.
But Asuma had no such thought.
Instead, he fancied his smoking posture made him resemble his father. Taking a long drag, he inhaled deeply.
Always hungry for his father's approval, he hadn't inherited Hiruzen Sarutobi's mastery of all five elemental natures.
What he had perfected was his father's smoking habit.
Sometimes a man with a cigarette could look cool. But sometimes, it was only revolting.
The laughable son of the Hokage.
As Asuma drew in another deep lungful, preparing to exhale, Hakken's calm smile cut across the table.
"Put it out—or get out of my sight."
Shing!
His blade slid free, spearing clean through the tabletop. A feral glint lit Hakken's eyes.
"You made Anko choke."
You made Anko choke!
Hakken's feelings for Anko were beyond doubt.
It was hard to imagine what kind of life he'd lived before she found him, before she brought him into her home.
From strangers to family, Hakken already regarded Anko as one of the most important people in his world—someone he had to protect.
She was the softest part of his heart.
At the very least, she had given him something precious: a home.
A place where, after training each day, he could rest and sleep in peace.
"Brat, what the hell are you saying?"
Asuma finally spoke, smoke swelling in his mouth. The moment he did, that thick blue-grey cloud rolled straight into Hakken's face.
Shing!
A cold gleam sliced the air. Asuma felt a chill along his cheek.
His carefully grown beard—and the cigarette clenched between his teeth—had both been sheared clean in half.
His chin was suddenly seized in a hard grip, forcing his mouth open.
Clack.
The still-burning cigarette traced a line of sparks through the air before, along with the filthy stubble clinging to it, being shoved straight inside.
Crunch.
Hiss—
His jaw snapped shut, the sound of the cigarette being extinguished crisp and unmistakable.
Bang!
A final kick sent him crashing out of the dango shop, completing Hakken's entire sequence of movements.
Clean. Decisive.
Even though the man was the Hokage's son, there wasn't the slightest hesitation.
From the moment Asuma made Anko choke, his outcome had already been decided.
Calmly sitting back down, Hakken picked up a skewer of dango. Under the horrified stares of the shop's patrons, he poured chili oil over it and swallowed it in one gulp.
Others might not have realized, but Might Guy, not far away, was completely dumbfounded.
Sweet dango with chili oil?
Was that really edible?
Or was the boy simply forcing himself to stay calm after daring to raise a hand against the Hokage's son?
Yes.
Asuma Sarutobi. The Hokage's son!
"Hakken."
Anko didn't know what to say. She simply hugged Hakken's arm, her heart swelling with emotion.
That arm was still small and youthful.
But already strong enough to rely on.
Beside them, Kurenai Yūhi's ruby-red eyes shimmered with a strange light.
Just from the aura he carried, this boy gave off the feeling that no matter who you were, if you touched someone he cared about, you would pay the price.
Quite the little man already.
"Eat."
But in the next moment, that tender atmosphere was shattered.
Hakken held out a dango ball soaked in chili oil, right to Anko's lips.
This is for me?
Anko froze in horror.
Her beloved dango—ruined by the chili she hated most.
Could that even be eaten?
"To make sure that one day I can still wrap my arm around your waist, eat it."
"From now on, keep it to ten sticks of dango a day."
"That's final."
Indeed, since walking into the shop, she had already put away ten skewers.
Clearly, the culprit who would one day turn this lively girl into a plump aunt had been found.
When Anko, trembling, finally stuffed the chili-soaked dango into her mouth, Hakken rose and looked toward the shop owner.
"Five skewers, to go."
Of course, they weren't for Anko.
They were for the only friend he had outside his family.
Because when you thought about it…
That poor kid who loved sweets.
Had suffered all his life.