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[NNSS] Chapter : 65 - Izakaya?
🕑 Added 2025-10-13 18:05:18 +0000 UTC'Itachi left… Should I find someone else to keep me company for now?'
Anko’s whereabouts were still unknown.
'Forget it. I’ll just wander around on my own. After training so hard, it wouldn’t hurt to clear my head a bit.'
Konoha might be vast, but when it came to entertainment, there wasn’t much to see—or do. No theaters, no arcades, not even a decent festival lately.
“Hey! Roshi!”
A familiar, lively voice called out from behind.
Turning around, Roshi saw a young man wearing a shinobi forehead protector tilted into a makeshift hat, his messy bangs covering one eye. Beside him stood another boy with wild, spiky hair, and next to him—a Hyuga, unmistakable from the pale Byakugan eyes.
Memories clicked into place almost instantly.
Izumo Kamizuki. Kotetsu Hagane. Tokuma Hyuga.
All of them—his old classmates from the Ninja Academy.
Roshi stopped walking as the three approached.
“You punk!” Izumo slapped him hard on the back, his grin wide. “I heard you’ve been promoted to Special Jonin—and even completed an S-rank mission! Yet you look at me like, ‘Who are you again?’”
“Ah… I was just thinking about something.”
Their relationship had never been particularly close or distant. But after three years of war, not many classmates were left. It was no wonder they greeted him with this mix of cheer and awkward nostalgia.
While Roshi’s team had been stationed near the Kumogakure border, these three had been sent toward Iwagakure’s front lines.
A year after Kumo deployed its troops, Iwa had torn up its alliance with Konoha, sending raiding squads across the western borders. Fortunately, Suna had remained loyal, keeping the pressure manageable.
“Where are Kaito and Shota? Why aren’t they—” Kotetsu’s words cut off abruptly when Tokuma jabbed an elbow into his ribs.
Those names—Kaito and Shota—were Roshi’s fallen teammates.
The air froze.
Izumo let out an awkward laugh and quickly changed the subject. “Ahem! So, Roshi—where are you headed?”
“To grab a bite.”
“What a coincidence! We were just about to do the same. Ichiraku Ramen?”
Ramen wasn’t exactly what Roshi had in mind—he’d wanted something a bit better. But seeing the guilt and discomfort lingering on their faces, he nodded. “Sure.”
Ichiraku was as lively as ever. The scent of rich broth mingled with chatter and laughter, filling the air with warmth.
For shinobi, it was the perfect spot—cheap, delicious, and plenty filling.
They took seats at the counter.
“Boss! Extra chashu for this guy—it’s on me, to celebrate his promotion!” Kotetsu announced proudly.
Izumo rested his chin on his hand. “Then I’ll get him an order of fried shrimp.”
“Add some squid,” Tokuma said curtly.
Roshi raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”
Kotetsu immediately bit the bait. “Boss! Make his bowl extra large!”
“Add one!”
“Add one!”
By the time they’d emptied their bowls, the earlier tension had melted away in the heat of laughter and steaming soup.
Their talk naturally drifted to the current buzz in the Village—the arrival of the Kumogakure delegation.
“If they really reach an agreement,” Kotetsu said between slurps, “we can finally focus on Iwagakure. With an ally’s support, peace might not be that far off, huh?”
“Maybe,” Izumo mused, stirring his bowl with his chopsticks. “But not everyone’s happy about it. I mean, they’re the ones who started the war, and now we’re expected to welcome them with smiles?”
“There’s no helping it,” Kotetsu muttered, lowering his voice. “For peace…” His eyes flicked toward Roshi.
Roshi said nothing—just quietly finished his soup.
“That day, I won’t be going with you guys,” Tokuma suddenly said.
Kotetsu blinked. “What? You’re skipping such a big event?”
Tokuma nodded. “The Clan Heiress turns three that day. The entire clan is required to attend the ceremony. It’s already been reported to the Hokage.”
“Three years old? That’s… a big deal now?”
Tokuma didn’t reply. But Roshi understood. For the Hyuga Clan, that birthday was far from ordinary.
Ichiraku was small, and soon after finishing their meal, the four found themselves wandering the nearby street again.
Kotetsu stopped in front of a shop, eyes gleaming. “Should we go in and take a look…”
Roshi glanced at the sign. Kuraku.
“This is an izakaya,” he pointed out. “A karaoke-style one. They don’t serve—”
“Shut up! Of course I know that!” Kotetsu threw an arm around his shoulder. “We just want to take a peek!”
Izumo nodded sagely. “Kotetsu has a point. Besides, if we have a Special Jonin-sama leading us, what’s there to worry about?”
'Being strong doesn’t make me old enough to drink,' Roshi thought. 'If Grandma found out, she’d kill me.'
He tried to walk away, but Kotetsu grabbed his arm, and Izumo joined in. Despite their combined strength, Roshi barely moved—until he gave in, letting himself be dragged halfheartedly.
“What are you kids doing here!”
A firm, slightly stern voice snapped from behind them, freezing Izumo and Kotetsu mid-motion.
The man approached quickly.
“This isn’t a place for your age, Izumo, Kotetsu—wait…” His eyes landed on Roshi. “Roshi?”
“Uncle Hayami,” Roshi greeted calmly.
“Oh, so even you’re curious about izakayas now?” Hayami Shigeru dropped his sternness and sighed. “Still, this isn’t the right place. If you really want to see one, I’ll take you somewhere else.”
“Uncle Hayami, Roshi’s the same age as us!” Kotetsu protested. “That’s kinda hurtful, you know?”
Izumo nodded vigorously.
Hayami gave them a flat stare, then turned to Tokuma. “You too, Tokuma-kun?”
“No, I’ll pass,” Tokuma said immediately.
“Good choice.” Hayami snorted. “The rest of you—follow me.”
The man led the way, and the boys exchanged looks before hurrying after him.
After several turns, they arrived at an older-looking establishment with a wooden sign that read Yamanoya.
“So this is the kind of place, huh…” Kotetsu muttered.
“Maybe we should just head back,” Izumo whispered.
“Get in,” Hayami barked, pulling aside the curtain.
Inside, the izakaya was cozier than it looked. A few patrons greeted Hayami, teasing him for bringing “kids” to drink and joking about reporting him to the administration.
Hayami ignored them, leading the boys to the counter. “Two glasses of milk for these two,” he told the owner, pointing at Izumo and Kotetsu. “Sit in the corner.”
The pair groaned and shuffled to a side table.
Roshi sat at the counter beside Hayami. “Just a glass of water, please.”
So much for relaxing.
“Izumo and Kotetsu too?” Roshi asked quietly.
Hayami nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “The Kamizuki and Hagane families once followed Hashirama-sama’s order to disband the old system. They still believe reviving it would betray his will.”
'Ah', Roshi thought. 'So that’s why there’s no record of their former status.'
But then again, Tsunade had trusted them enough to work under her later—it wasn’t surprising.
“As for the equipment wear you submitted,” Hayami continued, “since that mission was a village order, the expenses can be reimbursed.”
“Though, you made a few mistakes in the report.” He gave a dry chuckle. “I fixed it for you this time. But next time, list such damages separately under ‘Material Consumption’ in the appendix—not in the mission summary. The admin department only checks the format, not the content. Mixing them delays everything.”
“Thank you, Uncle Hayami.”
Hayami waved it off. “It’s nothing. We all have to help each other—otherwise, when real trouble comes, there’ll be no one left to rely on.”
He took another sip and added in a lower tone, “Momoka-sama’s from another era. She doesn’t realize how much the Village has changed. Back then, there were only a handful of us. Now, it’s a real community—and that means unity matters.”
“Look at the Uchiha—losers in the Warring Clans era, yet they rose above us through sheer cohesion.”
Then he stood, patting Roshi on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll stop lecturing. Those two in the corner look like they’re dying of boredom.”
As he walked off to rescue the sulking pair, he paused to add, “Oh, and by the way—the owner here’s one of our own. If you really want to drink something, it’s fine.”
Roshi watched him go, then turned back to the clear glass of water before him.
So much for wandering alone.
