The afterglow of a good meal and even better company had me practically floating back toward the village. My steps were light, my mind pleasantly hazy from the combination of sake and the rare genuine conversation.
I absently spun a kunai around my finger as I walked, a nervous habit I'd picked up that gave my hands something to do while my brain wandered. The weight of my fishing gear bumped against my back with each step.
The sunset had long faded to dusk, stars beginning to pepper the darkening sky. Perfect end to a perfect day. Nothing could possibly ruin my good mood—
"You completely forgot, didn't you?"
I looked up, the kunai freezing mid-spin between my fingers. Minato stood on the landing of our apartment building, workout clothes still damp with sweat, and an expression that somehow managed to be both disappointed and unsurprised at the same time.
Ah, shit.
"Minato! My favorite neighbor," I said, sliding the kunai back into my pouch with a flick. "What are you doing out here? Enjoying the night air? Contemplating the meaning of life?"
His blue eyes narrowed slightly. "We were supposed to train together after school. It's nearly nine o'clock, Shinji."
He leaned against the railing, arms crossed. Even exhausted from solo training, he somehow managed to look put together. I, on the other hand, probably smelled like river water and fish guts.
"You smell like fish," he said, confirming my suspicion. "And sake."
I opened my mouth to deny it, then closed it again. No point lying to Minato. He knew me too well.
"I was fishing," I admitted, then added quickly, "It was research. For... survival skills."
"With Mikoto Uchiha?" Minato raised an eyebrow.
I froze. "How did you—"
"Grumpy-chan was complaining about his cousin slumming it with the orphan troublemaker. His words, not mine."
'Perfect. Just perfect,' I thought. 'Nothing stays private in this village for more than five minutes.'
"It wasn't a big deal," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just teaching her some basic fishing techniques. Purely educational."
"You could have just told me you had other plans," he said quietly.
"I'm sorry, I completely forgot."
He looked up, surprised by the straightforward admission.
"It's fine," he said automatically, though it clearly wasn't. "We can reschedule."
"No, it's not fine." I stepped closer, an idea forming. "Look, I've got some of that fish left. Let me make you dinner to make up for it, and we can train tomorrow instead."
Minato raised an eyebrow. "You're bribing me with food?"
"Is it working?"
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "You really think you can bribe your way out of this with fish?"
"Not just any fish," I corrected him, fishing in my pack for the leaf-wrapped package I'd saved. "Fish prepared with secret ingredients and techniques from beyond the Land of Fire. The kind of meal that would make an Akimichi weep with joy."
"You're exaggerating."
"Only slightly," I admitted. "But it is good, and I'll make that spicy rice thing you like too."
Minato's resolve visibly weakened. The boy trained like a demon, and his metabolism burned through calories faster than Grumpy-chan went through kunai.
"Tomorrow morning, before class. No excuses."
"Deal." I offered my hand, which he shook after a moment's hesitation. "I promise I won't forget this time."
"Uh-huh," he said skeptically. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"Fair enough. Should we head up? I'm starving again, and this fish isn't getting any fresher."
As we walked up the stairs to our floor, Minato glanced at me. "So... how was it? Fishing with Mikoto?"
There was something careful in his tone that made me look at him more closely.
"It was fine," I said, deliberately casual. "She's actually not as uptight as the rest of her clan. Has a sense of humor buried under all that Uchiha dignity."
Minato nodded, his expression unreadable. "Kushina was asking about you today."
"Was she now?" I kept my tone neutral. The Minato-Kushina-Shinji triangle was getting more complicated by the day, and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about it.
"Don't play dumb," he said. "She likes you."
"She likes teasing me," I corrected. "There's a difference."
We reached our floor, and I fished my keys out of my pocket.
"If we get late training early tomorrow," Minato said as he unlocked his own door, "we're blaming it on Grumpy-chan."
I grinned. "That's the spirit. Corrupting the future Hokage one scheming session at a time."
"Don't call me that," he muttered, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitch upward. "You're ridiculous."
"Yet you tolerate me anyway," I replied, fishing my keys out. "See you in ten? Just need to rinse off this river stink."
"Don't forget the spicy rice," he called as I unlocked my door.
"When have I ever let you down?" I asked, then immediately raised my hand. "Wait, don't answer that. Today doesn't count."
Minato snorted and disappeared into his apartment.
Inside my apartment, I kicked off my sandals and tossed my gear in the corner. The fish was still wrapped in leaves, unsurprisingly fresh. I unwrapped it and got to work, slicing vegetables and heating up the pan.
Honestly, Minato was too easy to placate. Feed him, promise to train, and all is forgiven. Perks of having a friend with the metabolic rate of a hummingbird.
"Before school tomorrow," I muttered to myself as I chopped. "I'll actually show up this time."
Maybe I'd even show him that spinning kunai trick I'd been practicing. Nothing too flashy, just enough to make him think I was taking it seriously.
The rice started sizzling in the pan, and I added the spices that made Minato's eyes water but somehow kept him coming back for more. People were weird like that—they claimed to hate things they secretly loved.
Ten minutes later, I was knocking on his door with two plates of food and my most charming smile. Friendship maintained, crisis averted, and I got to eat the leftover fish. All in all, not a bad outcome for a day that started with fishing and ended with lying—my two favorite activities.