The lunch bell rang, and the classroom instantly dissolved into chaos.
Chōji opened a jumbo bento the size of a battlefield ration crate and started devouring it, rice grains sticking to his cheeks.
Kiba split a rice ball with Akamaru, the two of them huddled together like conspirators.
Sasuke silently unwrapped a cold onigiri, looking personally offended by its existence.
Shikamaru had already collapsed face-down on his desk. "Waking up during lunch break… troublesome…"
Naruto checked the coins in his pocket.
He was just about to head to Ichiraku.
For twelve years in his first life, no one had packed him lunch. It had been cold bread or leftover broth from Teuchi.
He was used to it.
He stood—
And then felt something warm pressed into his chest.
A wooden lunchbox.
Still warm.
"N-Naruto-kun… this is for you…"
Soft. Trembling.
Before he could turn around, the giver had already fled, white training sleeves fluttering in the sunlight by the door.
Naruto didn't need to look.
Pink sakura-pattern cloth. A carefully tied bow.
Only one person would run away mid-sentence like that.
The room fell silent for three full seconds.
Then—
"WHAT?!" Kiba nearly choked on his rice. "Was that Hyūga Hinata?! She gave you a bento?!"
Even Shikamaru lifted his eyelids.
Sasuke's grip tightened slightly on his cold rice ball.
The girls in front whispered:
"Hinata gave Naruto lunch?"
"He's been really nice lately…"
"He's actually kind of cute…"
Naruto slowly untied the bow.
Inside—
Golden fried shrimp dusted with seaweed flakes.
Two round red bean buns, still warm.
Pickled radish. Tamagoyaki.
And on the rice—
A tiny seaweed cutout of Naruto's face.
Crooked.
One eye is slightly bigger than the other.
Adorably terrible.
Naruto almost laughed out loud.
Seventy years of life.
Fifty-plus years of Hinata's cooking.
Her seaweed cutting skills had never improved.
The lid held a folded note.
He opened it carefully.
The handwriting wobbled slightly, ink blotched in places.
"N-Naruto-kun… thank you for paying for ramen and helping me before…
I made this for you. I hope it tastes okay…
If it's not good, that's okay too…
Please don't dislike it.
— Hinata"
Even the signature was tiny, tucked shyly into the corner.
Inside the seal, Kurama snorted.
"You're grinning like an idiot. Hmph. The shrimp smells decent. Tell her to add two more next time."
Naruto chuckled inwardly.
He took a bite.
Crisp outside. Perfect seasoning.
Exactly the taste he remembered.
"Bet it's not that good," Kiba muttered, leaning over. "Hyūga princess probably can't cook. My mom's dog food— I mean, rice balls—are better."
Naruto deliberately took a huge bite of red bean bun.
"Delicious. Better than Ichiraku."
Kiba sputtered.
Out in the hallway, half-hidden behind a pillar, Hinata peeked.
She watched Naruto eat.
Her eyes curved into soft crescents.
When he looked up and caught her—
She jerked back, bumped her forehead on the pillar with a soft thunk, and ran.
Naruto's smile widened.
When he was twelve the first time, his greatest secret wish had been simple:
A warm lunchbox.
Not cold bread.
Not pretending he preferred ramen.
Now—
The girl he loved across decades remembered his favorite dishes.
Packed them carefully.
Cut a lopsided little Naruto out of seaweed.
Wrote a trembling note.
He folded the paper gently and tucked it into his ninjutsu notebook beside yesterday's class notes she'd copied for him.
Treasured.
Iruka entered with training mats.
"Afternoon taijutsu sparring! Everyone to the field. Kiba—you're paired with Naruto. Don't go overboard."
Kiba cracked his knuckles, grinning. "This time I'm winning."
Naruto closed his empty lunchbox and slipped it into his bag.
He stood, tiger-like grin flashing.
"Sure. If I win, you buy me red bean buns for a week."
He paused.
"And one for Hinata every day."
Kiba blinked.
"…Why her too?!"
Naruto only laughed and walked toward the training field, sunlight catching in his hair.
For the first time in his life—
Lunch break felt warmer than any victory he'd ever won.