Possibly.
Yukino Yukinoshita walked at an unhurried pace through the corridors of Totsuki Academy, her older sister Haruno keeping step beside her.
The two sisters bore a striking seventy-percent resemblance, and walking side by side, they drew every eye along the way.
Back at Shuchiin Academy, they'd been separated by entire departments, one in high school, the other in university, making it nearly impossible to meet between classes.
But after the merger with Totsuki, the entire institution had consolidated Shuchiin's middle school, high school, and university divisions into a single massive building.
Some might wonder if that made things impossibly overcrowded.
Well, no need to worry. A lot of people couldn't make it anymore.
As for why... those who knew, knew.
Haruno had set aside her usual smiling-tiger expression, her tone carrying an edge of seriousness. "Yukino, I heard that almost every player who entered the game has transferred into Makoto Nishikado's class. You're not going?"
"Why would I?"
Yukino's voice was flat, dismissive.
She'd heard the rumors, of course. Ran Mouri and Sonoko Suzuki had been her classmates before the reshuffle.
And because of the mass transfer, another celebrity in the class, Shinichi Kudo, had spent the entire morning fuming so hard that nobody dared approach him.
The way Yukino saw it, those people were tripping over each other to become Nishikado's lackeys. She refused to stoop that low.
"This is about picking a side, Yukino." Haruno shook her head with a quiet sigh. "You think being a lackey is easy? Right now, people all over the world would kill for a spot at Makoto Nishikado's heel."
If she weren't stuck in the university division, she'd have transferred already.
But after yesterday's battle, she could tell Nishikado held no particular fondness for her, so she didn't dare make any rash moves. Sucking up to someone who didn't want it would only make things worse.
The sisters walked on until they spotted a crowd gathered outside a classroom ahead. A glance at the doorframe confirmed it.
Class 1-F.
Nishikado's class.
Yukino's mouth stayed indifferent, but her feet betrayed her, hitching for half a step.
Haruno saw right through her little sister and tugged gently at her hand. "Let's take a look."
They'd barely edged close enough when a voice drifted out.
"Makoto, he's saying you're just stringing Ishigami along, that you never intended to share the secret of your abilities because you're afraid someone might surpass you."
Both sisters' faces changed.
They recognized the voice: Megumi Kato, one of the people closest to Nishikado.
But what truly stunned them was the question of who on earth had the nerve to talk about Makoto Nishikado behind his back.
Even Yukino, who in the old days could out-argue anyone across every franchise, wouldn't dare raise her voice in Nishikado's presence now.
Other protagonists might have their own reasons for holding back, but Nishikado genuinely did not tolerate anyone.
He would kill you. He'd done it before.
The sisters squeezed through the onlookers and caught sight of a boy with short dark-blue hair striding toward a young man in rectangular glasses with slicked-back silver hair.
"That's... Eishi... no, Eizan Etsuya, one of Totsuki's Elite Ten..." Haruno had barely identified him when the blue-haired boy whipped out a kunai and drove it into Eizan's chest in a blur of repeated thrusts.
Less than five seconds. Eizan's expression shifted from shock to agony, and then he convulsed, blood spilling from his mouth.
The ninth seat of the Elite Ten, the man with the most subordinates and the broadest network of influence, crumpled to the floor.
Dark, almost black blood gushed from his mouth and the wounds in his chest, his body twitching in a sight that turned the stomach.
Two days ago, the scene would have had people vomiting. But after the carnage Nishikado's group had brought yesterday, most onlookers only went pale and broke into a cold sweat. The shock, though, was no less enormous.
"You're here to cook. Not talk." Yu Ishigami carefully wiped clean the Flying Thunder God kunai Nishikado had gifted him, then turned a cold stare on the remaining members of the Elite Ten, who stood frozen in place. "Cook."
Erina Nakiri and the others snapped back to attention and immediately bent over their stations, resuming their prep work.
Then, as if catching himself, Ishigami turned and bowed deeply to Nishikado. "I'm sorry, Senpai. I dirtied the place while you were eating."
Nishikado smiled faintly. "It's fine. I'm used to it."
Honestly, he'd half-expected Ishigami to follow up with a "Wait, you're actually doing it?" and take out Erina's group too.
"I'll clean this up right away."
Ishigami grabbed the still-twitching Eizan by the ankle and dragged him briskly out of the classroom.
The crowd at the door scrambled to clear a path, and the Yukinoshita sisters stood there in stunned silence.
They watched Ishigami drag away the ninth seat, still clinging to life... actually, no. Not anymore.
The moment Ishigami had passed out of Nishikado's line of sight, he'd stomped down hard on Eizan's wound. One final spray of blood, and that was the end of it.
"He... is he a player too?" Haruno pointed at Ishigami's retreating back, her voice barely above a whisper.
"N-no... I don't think so..." Yukino was shaken to her core.
She'd killed during the Forest of Death, sure, but that was the exams. Kill or be killed. Ishigami had just murdered someone over a few words.
It dragged her straight back to Shuchiin Academy's opening ceremony, the moment Nishikado had blown Sawanaga Taisuke's head apart in front of the entire school.
No hesitation whatsoever.
"Makoto, that Ishigami seems to really look up to you." Megumi Kato said it softly, her gaze on Nishikado.
She'd been frozen stiff herself. When she'd heard Eizan's words, she'd considered teaching him a lesson, but she never imagined Ishigami would go that far. Outright killing the man.
What made it all the more staggering was that Ishigami was a completely ordinary person. Forget ninja training; he'd never even set foot in another world.
When the quiet ones snapped, it was terrifying.
Nishikado chuckled. "There's a saying that sounds harsh, but it fits people like Ishigami perfectly: the dog that bites doesn't bark. The ones yapping nonstop like chihuahuas, barking at everything that moves? When it's time to actually throw down, they're the first to fold... hm?"
His eyes caught two dumbstruck faces at the classroom door, and one eyebrow rose in amusement.
Right.
Those were exactly the type.
"Th-the, um, N-Nishikado-sama, the appetizer is ready."
Tsukasa Eishi, the first seat of the Elite Ten, approached with a platter, his body trembling despite his best efforts to hold steady. The steel cloche over the dish marked it as Western cuisine.
"Good work." Nishikado gave a small nod.
Those two simple words sent a wave of relief crashing through Tsukasa. So he's... probably not going to kill me, right?
He lifted the cloche. A rich, complex aroma of roasted meat bloomed outward, filling the room. No dramatic glow, unfortunately.
"That smells incredible!" Yui Yuigahama sighed, her eyes half-closed in bliss.
"You've got time to compliment someone else's cooking?" Yumiko Miura gave her best friend a light tap on the back. "When are you taking your bento over to him?"
Even as she said it, Miura swallowed hard herself.
Yui glanced instinctively at the bento box tucked inside her desk. She'd made it the night before with her mother's help.
During the four-plus years in the Naruto world, she'd handled every meal at home, and whenever Nishikado left on missions, she was the one packing his lunches.
Out of habit, she had packed one again yesterday, but now...
"F-forget it. It's not even in the same league," she murmured.
Miura stared at her, exasperated.
Meanwhile, Nishikado had already speared a generous piece of meat and put it in his mouth.
Tsukasa, normally timid in everything except his absolute confidence in his own cooking, found himself holding his breath. This had never happened to him before. He'd always known, with unshakable certainty, that no one could reject his food.
But the person sitting before him operated on an entirely different scale from any judge or diner he'd ever served.
Behind Tsukasa, the remaining members of the Elite Ten... well, the Elite Eight now... were no less anxious. If the first seat's cooking couldn't satisfy Nishikado, they were as good as dead.
"This meat is exceptional. How did you prepare it?"
The words released every ounce of tension in the room.
Tsukasa exhaled and answered respectfully, "Lord Nishikado, this is a French preparation, Sauce Chevreuil..."
"Huh?"
Nishikado's eyebrow twitched.
Tsukasa caught himself immediately. "It means venison in sauce. I used half-year-old fawn, slow-braised with nine different seasonings over a low flame."
Nishikado nodded. "Is there more?"
"Yes, my lord, there is!"
Tsukasa gestured eagerly toward his station.
Nishikado waved a hand. "Share it with everyone. Oh, and set aside a portion for Ishigami.
Tell him: this is half-year-old venison, exquisitely tender, not to be missed."
"Yes, sir!"
Tsukasa returned to his station, portioned out the venison, and waved over one of his people to deliver a serving.
Nishikado seemed to remember something and added, "Actually, bring the whole pot. Don't let it get cold on the way."
"Right, right, of course!"
Tsukasa nodded repeatedly.
Every spectator inside and outside the classroom stared in disbelief.
"My god, he's that considerate to his people?" Haruno breathed.
She had no doubt that when Ishigami heard about this, he'd be ready to kill someone else on the spot just to prove his loyalty.
So that was how it worked. The cruelest death for his enemies, and warmth like a spring breeze for his own.
Haruno thought it over and realized Nishikado treated all his people this way, and the women around him even better.
Utaha Kasumigaoka's trio, for instance, had been roughly on par with the Yukinoshita sisters academically before, perhaps even slightly behind.
Yet during the Chunin Exams, they'd dominated across the board.
Who deserved the credit needed no explanation.
The other students' eyes were beginning to shine.
A few middle-schoolers who'd wandered over to watch started whispering among themselves.
Komachi Hikigaya's eyes went wide, and she remarked to Moeha Fujiwara and Kei Shirogane beside her. "That Nishikado guy isn't as scary as the rumors say."
Kei nodded vigorously, unable to stop herself from swallowing as her gaze locked onto the parade of lavish dishes the Elite Ten kept bringing to Nishikado's table.
Coming from an ordinary, even poor household, she had never seen food this extravagant.
Moeha Fujiwara, meanwhile, watched Nishikado with a growing spark of interest.
Her taste in men had always leaned toward dramatic contrasts. Nishikado's style, gentle with his own and ruthlessly decisive with everyone else, hit that preference dead center.
The exact opposite, in other words, of the Konoha Elder Council: meek toward outsiders, brutal toward their own.
The surrounding students were beyond stunned.
You can just... do that?
Momo Ryuju, a Shuchiin student who'd come to watch the show, couldn't help a sigh of admiration.
Born into a yakuza family, she was no stranger to violence. Watching Ishigami earn Makoto's favor through a single kill planted an immediate thought in her mind.
Maybe... I should kill someone too? As a pledge of loyalty?
"U-um..."
Hisako Arato, acting as Erina Nakiri's secretary and helping serve, hesitated with a pained expression. "Nishikado-sama, who should I serve?"
Too many people. She had no idea who, besides Makoto himself, was permitted to dine.
More precisely, she couldn't tell who had the standing to sit at his table.
Makoto raised a hand and pointed, one by one: the Akizuki sisters, Utaha Kasumigaoka, Megumi Kato, Sonoko Suzuki, and the rest.
When his finger reached Kotonoha Katsura, he paused for just a beat.
Kotonoha's heart hammered so hard she thought it might burst.
Then his finger moved toward her.
A wave of indescribable satisfaction washed over her, so intense she couldn't explain it herself.
Yui Yuigahama and the others felt the same way. Back in the real world, they were no longer Makoto's servants.
They couldn't attend to him the way they had in the Naruto world, and it would've been perfectly reasonable for him to cut them loose.
But he still counted them as his own. The three former errand-runners nearly cried on the spot.
"Huh? Me too?"
When Makoto's finger landed on Alice Nakiri, her eyes went wide with shock.
He nodded. Under the table, Alice pumped a tiny fist.
Yes! Obviously, a girl of my caliber is simply irresistible, even to someone like him!
As for Hayato Hayama, Makoto Ito, Sekai Saionji, Tomoya Aki, and the rest, they didn't even qualify to sit at the table.
"Wow, this is amazing!" Airi Akizuki beamed.
"Getting to eat the Elite Ten's cooking... normally even we'd need a reservation months in advance," Sonoko said, elbowing Ran Mouri. "We really owe Makoto for this, right, Ran?"
"Y-yeah..."
Ran managed an awkward smile. She'd just noticed Shinichi Kudo among the crowd outside, and his expression was murderous.
"Yui!"
Yumiko Miura, savoring every bite of Erina's Eggs Benedict, nudged Yui under the table with her foot. Now. Go.
Yui pressed her lips together. She thought of the moment Makoto's finger had pointed at her, and something in her chest steadied.
She reached into her desk, pulled out the bento box, and set it gently in front of him.
Momo Akanegakubo, the Fourth Seat, froze mid-step with her dessert platter.
"U-um, Makoto..." Yui's voice was barely above a whisper. "This... this is a bento I made. I'm so used to making them that I just... sort of..."
The room went quiet in a peculiar way.
Compared to the procession of exquisite, lavish dishes the Elite Ten had been presenting, one after another, the plain little bento box in Yui's hands looked hopelessly outclassed. Almost sad.
But Utaha Kasumigaoka and the others exchanged a subtle glance.
Well, damn. The pink airhead with zero presence just made a power move.