Naruto's new apartment always smelled like three things: beef broth, stale milk, and the faint, dusty scent of cheap tatami mats. It was a stark contrast to the floral paradise I had just left at the Yamanaka household.
I sat on the edge of his unmade bed. The mattress was thin, and the frame groaned under my weight—creeeeak—a sound that was becoming the soundtrack of our new independence. My hair, newly dyed and smelling faintly of chemicals and expensive conditioner, fell into my eyes as I leaned forward.
"Here," I whispered.
I held out the prize. It was small, lumpy, and yellowish, wrapped in coarse brown butcher paper I had scavenged. It smelled strongly of lavender—which I had pinched from Ino's drying rack—and the heavy, earthy scent of tallow.
Naruto squinted at it, his blue eyes narrowing. He was sitting cross-legged, swinging his legs so hard his heels thumped against the metal bed frame. Thump. Thump. Thump.
His stomach gave a traitorous rumble, loud enough to echo in the small room.
"What is it?" Naruto asked, eyeing the block suspiciously but leaning in, his nose twitching like a rabbit.
"I made it at Ino's," I said, puffing out my chest just a little. I thought back to the afternoon in the Yamanaka kitchen, watching Ino measure oils with the same precision she used for kunai drills. "Ino taught me the chemistry behind it, and her mom showed me the heating process. It's hard to get the lye ratio right, but it's mostly rendered animal fat and herbs."
Naruto's fox-ears seemed to perk up invisibly. His eyes went wide.
Animal fat.
Herbs.
To a kid whose diet now consisted almost exclusively of instant Cup Noodles and whatever was on sale at the convenience store, those words were poetry.
"Oh!" Naruto grinned, his face lighting up like a lantern. "Thanks, Sylvie-chan!"
He didn't hesitate. He didn't ask further questions. He didn't wait for a utensil.
He grabbed the block. He unwrapped the paper with a frantic crinkle-rip.
CHOMP.
He took a massive bite out of the corner.
Silence stretched for exactly one second.
The texture wasn't right. I saw it on his face instantly. It was waxy. Dense. It stuck to his teeth like hardening cement.
I stared at him, my mouth dropping open.
Naruto froze. His face went through a complex journey—confusion, realization, betrayal, and finally, utter, chemical revulsion.
"PFFFFT!"
Naruto spat the chunk out onto the floor. He started wiping his tongue frantically on his orange sleeve, his eyes watering.
Tiny, iridescent bubbles immediately started foaming at the corners of his mouth.
"EW!" Naruto screamed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. "THIS IS DISGUSTING! THIS TASTES NOTHING LIKE AN ANIMAL!"
I didn't say anything. I couldn't.
My shoulders started shaking. Then my chest hitched. Then I fell over onto the floor, curling into a ball, clutching my stomach. I was laughing so hard no sound came out, just a silent, wheezing gasp for air.
"WHY IS IT SPICY?!" Naruto yelled, coughing up a lavender-scented bubble that drifted lazily toward the peeling ceiling paint. "YOU POISONED ME! IT BURNS!"
"It's... it's SOAP, you idiot!" I gasped, wiping tears from my eyes. "You wash with it! You don't eat it! Ino warned me it might smell too good, but I didn't think you'd actually eat it!"
Naruto stared at me, foam dripping down his chin. "YOU SAID ANIMAL FAT!"
"THAT'S CHEMISTRY, NOT A RECIPE!" I howled.
"AHHHHHHH!"
Naruto scrambled off the bed, clutching his throat, and bolted for the front door. He slammed it behind him with a bang that shook the empty ramen cups stacked on his desk.
I lay on the floor, breathless, staring at the ceiling.
A second later, the door creaked open again.
Naruto stuck his head in from the hallway. His eyes were red, and he was still drooling foam, but he cupped his hands around his mouth.
"THANKS FOR THE FAT!" he screamed.
He slammed the door again.
I laughed until my ribs hurt.
The Konoha Public Bathhouse was a different world.
It was humid. The air was thick and white, swirling with steam that smelled of sulfur, cedar wood, and wet stone. It was a heavy, lazy heat that soaked into your bones and made your muscles feel like jelly.
Naruto sat in the outdoor rotenburo (open-air bath), the water coming up to his nose. The water was hot—mineral-rich and soothing. The rocks lining the pool were slick with moss. Above him, the night sky was clear, but down here, it was a private fog bank.
Naruto wasn't relaxing, though. He was hunting.
He stared at the lumpy yellow bar of soap floating innocently a few feet away.
"You aren't getting away this time," Naruto muttered, blowing bubbles in the water to rinse the taste of lye out of his mouth.
He floated slowly toward it, paddling his hands underwater like a crocodile.
The soap bobbed. It mocked him with its lavender scent.
He lunged.
He grabbed it.
SLIIIIIIP.
The soap defied physics. It shot out of his grip like a greased pig. It launched straight up into the air.
BONK.
It came down and hit Naruto square on the forehead.
PLOP.
It landed back in the water and floated there casually, spinning slowly.
Naruto rubbed his head, glaring at the inanimate object. "Oh, you want to play rough?"
He dove. He grabbed it with both hands this time, squeezing tight to crush the slippery enemy.
SSSSSLLLLLLLIIIP-ROING!
He squeezed too hard. The pressure launched the soap forward like a missile.
It rocketed out of his hands, soaring through the steam. It arced high into the air, clearing the tall wooden partition wall that separated the men's side from the women's side.
Naruto watched it go, his mouth open.
WHACK.
A wet, solid impact sounded from the other side.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
A voice roared from the women's bath. It wasn't a scared voice. It was a voice that sounded like gravel and anger.
Naruto sank lower in the water.
A few seconds of silence passed. Then, a splashing sound as someone fished the object out of the water.
"Oh," the voice muttered. "It's just soap."
Beat.
"WHO THE HELL THREW SOAP AT ME?!" the voice bellowed, echoing off the stone walls. "ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY I STINK?!"
Naruto's face went tomato red. He knew that voice. Everyone knew that voice. It belonged to the scary kunoichi with the trench coat who hung out near the dango shop.
He heard wet, frantic scrambling noises—the sound of wet skin slapping against wood. Someone was climbing the partition.
Naruto scratched his nose nervously. "Uhhhhh...."
Above the cedar wall, a tuft of spiky, purple hair appeared, cutting through the steam like a shark fin.
Naruto recognized it instantly. He had never officially met her, but every boy in the Academy knew the silhouette of Anko Mitarashi. She had a bad attitude and she knew how to throw snakes.
Naruto didn't wait to see the eyes.
SPLASH.
He scrambled out of the water, slipping on the wet tiles. He grabbed his towel, wrapped it around his waist in a blur of motion, and sprinted for the changing room before the purple demon could identify the soap-thrower.
"HEY! GET BACK HERE!" Anko screamed from the top of the wall.
But Naruto was already gone, leaving only wet footprints and the faint smell of lavender behind.