Chapter 15 — Demon's Dinner
Some things always happen incredibly suddenly.
For example—Tsuru had just finished beating up Garp when she immediately received an urgent assignment that would take her away for an entire year. She didn't even bother dealing with the bruised and battered Garp still in her hands before rushing back home.
She dragged Gion, who had been "engaged in artistic creation" in the study, and stormed straight toward Uchiha Madara's office.
It had to be said—Tsuru truly lived up to being a Marine. Her actions were swift and decisive. In less than ten minutes, she left behind a completely bewildered Madara… and a young Gion with ink all over her face, still clutching a half-finished piece of calligraphy that read "Will of Fi—".
Madara glanced at the little brat beside him.
Gion also looked at Madara. Seeing that he remained silent for a long time, she quietly raised the half-finished artwork in her hands.
"If it doesn't work, let's just leave it like this. I think it actually looks pretty good. What do you think, Master?"
Madara stared at the half-written calligraphy… and the black handprint stamped right on it.
After a moment of internal struggle, he ultimately chose to keep it.
"This is still a bit… never mind. We'll frame it later. Did you buy the frame?"
......
There were five days left before Gion started school. By now, she had already been living in Madara's house for nearly half a month.
At first, the two of them had been extremely awkward and restrained around each other. But eventually, Madara couldn't hold back anymore and began openly berating Gion's behavior.
"This is what you call chakra? Something this childish—do you think it will keep you alive on a battlefield? What have you even been doing every night? Messing around with your useless junk? At this rate, you might as well go home and wait to get married."
Dressed in dinosaur pajamas, Uchiha Madara scolded her expressionlessly.
In front of him, Gion stood in a horse stance, trying her best to force out chakra.
Although her small face had already turned pale from exhaustion, her mouth showed no mercy at all.
"Tch. Once I catch up to you, I'll inherit the Will of Fire right away and show you the power of the 'Patricide Sword of Filial Piety,' you idiot Master!"
Madara wasn't one to back down. He immediately shot back.
"Hah. The last person who said they'd kill me has been dead for nearly a hundred years. At your current rate, you won't even be able to touch me before you die of old age."
Truth be told, Gion wasn't completely unaffected.
Even an idiot would be crushed by that kind of constant criticism. As clever as she was, she couldn't help but start doubting herself.
After all, just from the names Madara casually mentioned for comparison, she felt so thoroughly belittled she wanted to crawl into a hole.
He talked about how he had already been fighting on battlefields before the age of ten… how someone at her level could be slaughtered in droves by him without effort…
Then there were people like "Kage," or that "Two Scales Ōnoki brat"… and especially the one he mentioned most often—someone called Senju Hashirama.
According to him, that guy could get slashed and simply regenerate instantly without even bothering to treat the wound.
That was just absurd.
How could anyone possibly be that strong?
Even Garp, the so-called strongest Marine, couldn't do something like that.
Sometimes, Gion even suspected that Madara was just making things up to fool her.
Where would so many monsters come from in Wano Country? From Madara's descriptions, many of the people he had fought were at least Admiral-level… some even beyond that.
But then she thought back to their first meeting—how Madara had single-handedly suppressed both Garp and Sengoku—and she couldn't find any reason for him to lie.
Seeing the little brat lost in her thoughts, Madara turned and walked into the kitchen to cook.
Yes—this had become his new task.
Originally, Madara didn't care much about such things. Every day, he would just go to the Marine cafeteria and casually grab something to eat.
But the brat couldn't tolerate that kind of life.
As a family member of a Marine Vice Admiral, Gion had always eaten meals prepared by servants. At worst, she would dine out at proper restaurants.
Ever since moving into Madara's house, she had been barely surviving—sometimes missing meals entirely. And when she did eat, it was either cold bread or leftover food from the day before.
There was no way she could endure that.
She argued with Madara for nearly half a month before finally forcing him to take her out to restaurants every time.
But eating out constantly wasn't sustainable.
Madara spent all his time at home teaching her and had no income. The three million Berries he had earned on that ship were already running out fast.
Madara was starting to panic.
This little spendthrift brat—she had almost eaten them into poverty in just half a month.
If Madara could bring himself to do it, he could easily go to Garp and the other two old guys and get some money.
But if he were capable of that, he wouldn't be Uchiha Madara.
Left with no other choice, he could only try cooking for himself.
But there are limits to human capability.
Right now, Madara felt like he had reached his limit.
He stared intently at the fish in the pot.
He couldn't even remember the last time he had been this nervous.
Was it when he accidentally pierced the fish clean through while gutting it?
Or when he added too much salt?
If not those… then it must have been the time Hashirama nearly committed suicide right in front of him.
Madara looked coldly at the pot.
Around the fish head swirled a dark purple liquid, bubbling ominously from time to time.
He didn't understand.
He had clearly followed the recipe—he had just added a little more seasoning… and cooked it slightly longer.
So why had it turned into something resembling salamander poison?
Gion finally finished her morning training and pushed open the kitchen door weakly, wanting to see what breakfast was.
And then her young soul suffered a critical hit.
She stared at Madara in disbelief.
"Master… I admit I might be a little lazy during training, and I do keep talking about the Will of Fire… but trying to kill me already—isn't that a bit early?"
"I always thought the Will of Fire thing was supposed to happen when master and disciple are at similar strength… but this… If I die from this, I'm not accepting it!"
Madara looked at his "masterpiece," slowly covered the pot with a lid, and said:
"Food must not be wasted."
Gion stared at him speechlessly.
"…Do you even hear yourself?"
Madara's face darkened. He grabbed her and dragged her toward the door.
"That's not food. That's poison meant for Garp. We're eating out today."
...
A thin waiter approached them.
"What would the two of you like to order today?"
They answered in unison:
"Pan-fried river fish!"
"Rice bowl."
The two of them looked at each other.
At the same time, a question mark slowly appeared in their minds.
In a world surrounded by ocean, freshwater fish were extremely expensive.
With just that one order from Gion, at least 50,000 Berries were gone.
As for Madara…
He was probably trying to stretch the remaining 500,000 Berries to last ten years.
"I don't care! I'm still growing—I want river fish!!!"
"Children shouldn't eat too much."
Gion: Are you kidding me?
After a long round of arguing and negotiation, they finally settled on a large portion of pan-fried sea fish.
Madara thought: at least it's cheap—even if it doesn't taste as good.
Gion thought: at least it's meat.
This old man actually wanted the future Admiral Gion to survive on plain rice alone—completely inhumane.
No wonder ninjas from Wano liked killing their masters. They had it coming.
Madara looked at the spotless plate in front of him and silently sucked on his chopsticks.
To be fair, even if it was cheap sea fish—it was cooked really well.
Gion also looked at Madara with lingering satisfaction.
"Master, Master—didn't you say your Sharingan can copy other people's techniques? Why don't you go to the kitchen and try copying how they cook?"
Madara was momentarily speechless.
Use the Sharingan to copy cooking?
What a joke.
Even for ninjutsu, if it wasn't at least A-rank, he wouldn't even bother activating it.
And now she wanted him to open his eyes just to cook?
That was downright insulting.
Madara was about to say something—
But Gion's next sentence completely broke him.
"Just think about your anti-Garp cuisine earlier."
"…Cough."
"Ninja Art: Dustless Maze!"