Hiashi's gaze swept over his daughter's flushed cheeks, the unfinished barbecue on her plate still steaming, even the edges of the plate glistening with oil.
The tension in his jaw, held tight all night, finally eased slightly. The worry in his eyes receded like a fading tide.
Earlier, after a full day of strenuous negotiations with Danzo, he had returned home to find Hinata missing.
After searching every room in the clan's compound, his clenched fists had turned white at the knuckles. The sleeves of his kimono brushed against the pillars, the very air around him thick with palpable anxiety.
The anger he had suppressed during his talk with Danzo had instantly turned into cold sweat trickling down his spine.
He had even wondered if the Kumogakure's envoys, failing their first attempt, had made a second move, or if Root was behind it.
Only upon seeing his daughter bathed in the warm, yellow light of Yakiniku Q did the heart lodged in his throat finally drop back into place with a thud.
Hinata carefully folded the scarf and bid Makoto a soft farewell.
"I... I have to go now."
Hearing this, Makoto ruffled her hair, his fingertips brushing against her cool cheek. His tone was exceedingly gentle.
"Alright."
He took the scarf she offered, neatly folded in his hands. Makoto unfolded it again and wrapped it around Hinata's snow-white neck twice. The tassels at the ends hung in front of her, swaying gently.
"Give it back to me next time we meet," Makoto's voice was low, mingling with the scent of barbecue as it reached Hinata's ears, "Remember, you have to return it to me personally."
The warm sensation spread from her neck. Hinata's face flushed crimson instantly, the pink coloring even the roots of her ears. She could only manage a soft 'Mm', nodding slightly.
As she moved towards the door, her steps were slow, as if walking on cotton. Snowlight squeezed through the door crack, falling on the small footprints staining the hem of her kimono.
After a few steps, Hinata suddenly stopped. With her back to Makoto, she asked softly, "Can... can you tell me your name?"
"Makoto."
Makoto leaned against the table, his fingertips tapping the surface, his voice carrying a warm laugh.
"Makoto..." Hinata repeated silently in her heart. Her steps suddenly became lighter, like a little squirrel hiding stolen candy.
In a few quick steps, she was at Hiashi's side, her small hand quietly clutching the hem of her father's kimono.
Makoto called the owner of Yakiniku Q to settle the bill. He was about to say, 'Put it on Uchiha Fugaku's tab', but the owner informed him, "The Hyuga Clan's Clan Head already paid. Said to put it on his account."
Hearing this, Makoto pursed his lips, 'That old fogey is quick.'
Pushing the door open, snowflakes landed on him. He watched the retreating backs of the father and daughter, and Hizashi and his son not far away, then suddenly called out loudly.
"Old man, your girl has a big appetite. Don't let her go hungry."
Hinata, hearing this, stumbled in her steps. The blush that had finally faded from her face returned in full force.
Hiashi also paused at the words. Although he didn't understand what Makoto meant, the teasing familiarity made his brows furrow slightly, but he still nodded.
When he had seen the boy tying the scarf for Hinata at the door, he had initially wanted to scold, "What impropriety!"
But remembering the Great Elder's miserable state today, and Danzo's constant remarks like 'What does the Hyuga Clan amount to?', he had swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.
Parents who love their children plan for their future.
'If the clan truly faced a crisis...' Thinking this, Hiashi's knuckles turned white. The hem of his dark kimono flapped loudly in the wind and snow.
He looked down at his daughter beside him. Hinata was sneakily glancing back at Makoto, her white pupils reflecting the snowlight, shining like two stars.
It eased the concerns in his heart considerably.
'Those red-eyed Uchiha might be crazy, but most were deeply emotional and fiercely protective of their own. If Hinata could maintain a good relationship with that Uchiha Makoto, I wouldn't have to worry as much about clan matters affecting her in the future.'
Just as Hiashi was pondering this, Hinata's soft voice sounded by his ear.
"Father, was it Great Grandfather who saved me last night?"
Hearing this, Hiashi's Adam's apple moved. Looking down, he saw his daughter's small hands clutching the scarf and the confusion in her eyes.
He shook his head, his voice heavy as if weighed down by ice. "No."
After hearing this answer, Hinata's eyelashes drooped, like willow branches bent by snow, hiding the flicker of understanding in her eyes.
She didn't ask further, just buried her face deeper into the scarf. As the tip of her nose brushed against the wool, she smelled the scent unique to Makoto.
It was exactly the same scent she had smelled when she woke up this morning. The little girl's fingertips secretly twisted the scarf's tassels. The suspicion in her heart was like a sprouting seed, growing secretly within the warm scarf.
'Was it Makoto? The one who saved me last night... could it have been him?'
The snow continued to fall, blanketing Konoha's roofs in a vast whiteness.
Some answers were like pine nuts hidden under the snow, waiting for a squirrel to dig through the frozen earth to reveal their true form.
Makoto watched the figures of the Hyuga father and daughter disappear into the wind and snow. The sensation of ruffling Hinata's hair still lingered on his fingertips, soft, like touching a freshly steamed rice cake.
He turned and lifted the door curtain. The warm, meaty aroma of Yakiniku Q, mixed with the crackle of charcoal, washed over him.
His stomach suddenly felt hungry again, as he had been so busy grilling meat for Hinata that he hadn't eaten his fill.
The night was as dark as spilled ink. Kumogakure's envoys were prowling the streets of Konoha.
The sound of their soles crushing the snow was deliberately muted. Only the wind, carrying snow particles, struck their Kumogakure forehead protectors with a faint, sandy rustle, like a pack of beasts harboring ill intentions.
Mabui had held the absolute upper hand in her arguments with Hiruzen at the Hokage Tower today.
Worried about further provoking the Kumogakure's envoys, Hiruzen hadn't stationed Anbu too close, only having them observe from a distance.
Seeing Hiruzen's concessions, the Kumogakure's envoys grew even more emboldened. Under the pretext of 'looking for a late-night snack', they roamed Konoha.
But their eyes constantly scanned the clan emblems on the walls of various compounds.
After the failed attempt to acquire the Byakugan, the Hyuga Clan had tightened security, making a second attempt impossible in the short term.
But since they were here, they naturally didn't want to leave empty-handed.
They shifted their target to Konoha's other Kekkei Genkai Clans, casing the area, hoping for some unexpected gains.
As they wandered to the entrance of Yakiniku Q, the wind and snow happened to subside slightly. The moment they lifted the door curtain, warm light and the aroma of meat surged out, illuminating their faces clearly.
Makoto was placing meat on the grill. The Uchiha Clan's fan crest on the back of his clothes glowed red like burning fire under the charcoal's light.
The meaty aroma in the air seemed to freeze instantly.
Sparks flew in the eyes of the Kumogakure's envoys in an instant. The two younger Shinobi's eyes lit up.
'The Uchiha Clan... If we could bring one back to Kumogakure, it would be an immense achievement.'
Young Shinobi always yearned for glory and accomplishment.
But Mabui suddenly gave a light cough. Her peripheral glance swept over the old cherry tree on the street corner. The Anbu behind it, though distant, kept their gaze firmly fixed on them, not relaxing for a moment.
She sat down at a table, her fingers unconsciously tapping the tabletop in a random rhythm, and began rapidly exchanging glances with the other envoys.
Only the two younger Kumogakure's Shinobi were considering targeting Makoto. The other, slightly older Kumogakure's Shinobi, however, expressed opposition.
The two sides argued their points fiercely through eye communication. Although the Uchiha Clan's Sharingan enhanced combat power far more than the Hyuga's Byakugan, the Uchiha Clan was not as easy to manipulate as the Hyuga.
The Uchiha's reputation was too formidable. Back in the Warring States Period, even the Daimyo of the Land of Lightning had hired them, despite the distance, considering them one of the dominant powers of that era.
Only the Senju Clan could rival them.
It was only in recent years, after co-founding Konoha with the Senju, that they seemed like beasts with bound limbs, retracting their fangs.
But no force dared to underestimate this clan's strength.
The Kumogakure's envoys began an extremely discreet exchange using their eyes, their gazes occasionally sweeping over Makoto.
Makoto took it all in with his peripheral vision. Amidst the crackle of the charcoal, a faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips.
'These bandits from Kumogakure, their eyes glued to the Uchiha Clan's fan crest on my back as if with adhesive.'
He could guess what these bandits were thinking without even trying. It was the same trick as their interest in the Hyuga… the same inherent predatory instinct, not held back in the slightest.
Being a bandit himself, Makoto naturally understood these bandits best. His gaze swept over two familiar figures.
Mabui sat at the table, her skin as dark as tung oil-polished sandalwood, her eyes strikingly bright and filled with composure.
Samui, beside her, noticed Makoto's gaze and suddenly reached up to adjust the collar of her light gray top. Her skin was as white as freshly ground rice flour, taking on a porcelain-like sheen under the warm light.
Her features were delicate, her short, pale blonde hair reaching her shoulders, a few strands plastered to the side of her neck by the wind and snow, outlining the perfect curve of her jawline.
Her blue-green pupils were as cold as ice, yet the curves straining against the light gray fabric were undeniably eye-catching, creating a striking contrast.
She was exceptionally tall and abnormally voluptuous.
Makoto couldn't help but sigh inwardly, 'Truly worthy of being one of the two great 'Jinchuriki' of the Shinobi World, alongside Tsunade.'
Seeing Samui, Makoto's thoughts involuntarily drifted to Tsunade.
Due to the significant weight on her upper body, Mabui subtly rubbed her slightly sore shoulders. Her black miniskirt barely covered the top of her thighs.
Sitting next to Mabui, the extreme contrast of black and white created an instant, palpable tension, like a red-hot branding iron dropped into an icy pool, making the warmth of the charcoal feel restless in comparison.
Makoto ate his barbecue while simultaneously opening [Naruto World Online] with his mind.