Snowflakes tapped gently against the glass window of Yakiniku Q, their soft rustling mingling with the warmth emanating from the charcoal grill.
Makoto and Hinata sat side-by-side near the window, the lingering warmth from their previously joined hands still present, like holding a gently glowing little sun.
Hinata stole a glance at Makoto beside her, then quickly looked down, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her kimono.
The snow that had clung to her hair earlier was now half-melted from the shop's warmth, dripping from the ends of her hair onto the scarf… Makoto's scarf, which still carried his faint scent.
"What would you like to eat?" Makoto slid the menu towards her. The beef tongue on the grill sizzled, fat dripping onto the coals and flaring up in small, golden flames.
Hinata's eyes skimmed over the menu before darting away. Her voice was soft as cotton candy, "A-Anything is fine... I'm not very hungry."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than her stomach, which hadn't eaten all evening, betrayed her with an audible gurgle, starkly clear in the quiet of the late-night shop.
Hinata's face flushed instantly bright red, the color spreading to the tips of her ears. She buried her face deeper into Makoto's scarf, only her damp eyes visible, like a startled little rabbit.
The scarf still held Makoto's body heat, his faint scent filling her nose and making her feel even more shy.
Seeing this, the corner of Makoto's mouth lifted involuntarily. He didn't press further, instead ordering a large assortment of meats directly, knowing Hinata had a healthy appetite.
Hearing Makoto order so much, Hinata's eyes shone even brighter, as if holding two stars.
Her earlier embarrassment faded slightly, and her small nose twitched subtly, clearly captivated by the aroma of meat wafting from the grill.
The charcoal crackled beneath the grill plate. Makoto picked up the tongs and flipped the meat slices with practiced ease. The meat slowly turned from bright red to an amber brown, glistening with fat.
The sizzling fat and the savory aroma, mixed with the smoky air, seemed to shut out the wind and snow outside the window.
He first placed the largest piece into Hinata's small dish, meticulously cutting it into bite-sized pieces. Flecks of oil spattered onto the rim of the plate, sparkling.
"Thank you..." Hinata whispered her thanks before picking up her chopsticks and taking small, delicate bites. Her cheeks puffed out slightly, like a little hamster nibbling on a treat.
Her long eyelashes cast faint shadows on her eyelids, fluttering gently with each chew. She occasionally looked up to sneak a quick peek at Makoto before immediately lowering her gaze again.
They didn't speak much more. Only the sizzle of the grill, the occasional soft clink of dishes, and the rustle of snow outside the window wove together into a cocoon of comfortable warmth.
Before long, Makoto was full. He set down his chopsticks and picked up a napkin to wipe his hands. Beside him, Hinata also set her chopsticks down with a soft tap.
She placed her small hands properly on her knees and said softly, "I... I'm full."
But Makoto could tell at a glance she wasn't. He raised an eyebrow, reached out, and ruffled her hair. The warmth from his palm seeped through her strands. "No wasting food. Finish it all."
Hearing this, Hinata's face reddened again. Her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.
"I'm really full..." She mumbled.
She usually ate less than this for an entire meal at home.
"Be good."
Makoto picked up the tongs and transferred all the freshly grilled meat onto Hinata's plate.
Hinata looked at the piled-up meat on her plate. She wanted to refuse, but couldn't find the words. Finally, she whispered, "Thank you," picked up her chopsticks, and started eating again.
And so, Makoto kept adding meat to the grill while continuously serving Hinata.
The glow from the charcoal fire illuminated his profile, accentuating the line of his brow. Even his somewhat casual smile seemed particularly gentle under the light.
Hinata's appetite was truly impressive. For someone so small, her stomach seemed like a bottomless pit.
She had eaten who knows how many plates of meat, yet her stomach remained perfectly flat, not bulging at all. It was as if her stomach contained a Kamui Dimension.
Noticing Makoto's gaze lingering on her, Hinata slowed her eating. A faint blush colored her cheeks, "C-Could you... not stare at me?"
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum.
As soon as she said it, her face turned even redder, the pink spreading down her neck. She buried her head lower, almost dipping her face into the plate.
A moment later, she looked up again. Their eyes met for a while before Hinata seemed to suddenly remember something. She abruptly squeezed her eyes shut tightly, as if scalded, her long lashes casting trembling shadows beneath her eyes.
"N-No... you can't look here..."
Her voice held a trace of barely perceptible insecurity, "My eyes... aren't nice."
In the Hyuga Clan, the Byakugan was a symbol of pride. But in her heart, it wasn't like that.
Makoto looked at her tightly closed eyes and slightly trembling lashes. "Your eyes are beautiful."
Hinata's eyelashes trembled even more violently.
"It's just that some people don't know how to appreciate them," Makoto continued.
Hearing this, Hinata cracked her eyes open just a slit. She saw the warm yellow light falling on his face, his gaze exceptionally sincere, his tone serious.
It felt like the charcoal fire, warming Hinata's heart until it felt soft.
Finally, she slowly opened her eyes, meeting his smiling gaze. It felt like something gently bumped against her heart, sweet, like she had drunk honey water.
She let out a soft 'Mm', picked up her chopsticks, and continued eating.
Only this time, the corners of her mouth couldn't help but lift into a small smile. Even the meat she chewed seemed to carry an indescribable sweetness.
Outside the window, the snow continued to fall, wrapping Konoha in a blanket of white.
But the warmth inside the barbecue shop wrapped around Hinata's heart like vines… loose, soft, and carrying a hint of newfound sweetness.
Watching Hinata sneak glances at him, her eyelashes fluttering like startled butterfly wings, Makoto couldn't hold back a smile.
As the warm light and meaty aroma filled the shop, the door was pushed open with a bang, letting in a gust of wind and snow.
Hiashi stood in the doorway, his dark kimono dusted with snow. His clenched knuckles were white, the corners of his eyes slightly red, his white pupils filled with worry.
Further down the street, leaning against a wall, stood Hizashi. His silhouette was a mirror image of Hiashi's, though his jawline was sharper. Watching the scene, the worry in his eyes dissipated.
Beside him, a young Neji looked on, his youthful face already showing signs of the sharpness to come, though his tightly pressed lips betrayed a hint of tension at the moment.
"Father."
Seeing Hiashi, Hinata, who had finally begun to relax, tensed up again. Her small hands clutched the edge of Makoto's scarf. Her voice was soft as cotton candy.