Chapter 8: A Feast of Consequences
"Having a teammate like you is truly shameful, Jiraiya," Orochimaru remarked, his voice a soft, disdainful hiss.
"Absolutely," Tsunade added, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Your reputation is already sketchy. Add 'child-bully' to the list, and you'll be like a rat scurrying across the street, with everyone shouting and throwing things at you."
Hyuga Shinra simply crossed his arms, regarding Jiraiya with a flat, unimpressed stare.
In truth, if it came to a real fight, Shinra was confident he could hold his own against the young Jiraiya. Among the legendary Sannin, Jiraiya was currently the weakest. Tsunade was already an elite Jonin, and Orochimaru was nearing the level of a quasi-Kage. Jiraiya, however, was a standard Jonin. This wasn't an insult; it was simply the current reality. The Jiraiya of the future, the one who would master Sage Mode, might become the most powerful of the three. But that Jiraiya had not yet journeyed to Mount Myoboku, and his natural aptitude seemed to lag behind his teammates. The boisterous, laughing exterior likely hid a young man who had to pour far more effort into his training than anyone knew.
*He's one of the pivotal figures,* Shinra thought, a flicker of respect cutting through his amusement. *Without Jiraiya, there would be no Naruto as we know him.* He and Iruka were the true pillars of the protagonist's world.
"We've been talking for a while, but I don't even know your name, little guy," Tsunade said, turning her full attention back to Shinra.
"My name is Hyuga Shinra, beautiful sister," he replied with a disarming smile.
Tsunade's gaze lingered on his face, and then she froze. Her eyes were drawn to his—not the pupil-less white of the Byakugan, but a deep, celestial blue with stars swirling in their depths. They were so hypnotically beautiful that for a moment, she was completely lost in them.
"Sister? Are you okay?" Shinra asked, tugging gently on her sleeve to break the spell.
Tsunade blinked, shaking her head slightly as a warm smile returned to her face. "It's nothing, little brother. Your eyes are just… incredibly captivating. I was mesmerized for a second."
*Little brother?* Shinra fought to keep a straight face. *This is getting out of hand.*
Orochimaru, who had been observing the exchange with serpentine stillness, watched Shinra's eyes with deep interest. He hadn't been captivated by their beauty; he had sensed a whisper of danger from within them, a latent power that prickled his instincts. He filed the observation away, his curiosity about this unusual Hyuga boy growing.
"If you've introduced yourself, I suppose we should do the same," Tsunade continued cheerfully.
"That won't be necessary, Tsunade," Orochimaru interjected, his vertical pupils fixed on Shinra. "I believe he already knows exactly who we are."
Shinra feigned a moment of surprise, then nodded. "Of course I do. You're the legendary disciples of the Third Hokage. Everyone in Konoha knows you. Especially the famous Princess Tsunade."
"You knew all along, you little devil!" Jiraiya yelled, pointing an accusatory finger. "Knowing who we are and still acting so cheeky? You're dead meat!"
"Sister Tsunade! The ugly uncle is threatening me again!" Shinra cried, ducking behind Tsunade with practiced ease.
A single look from Tsunade was enough to make Jiraiya deflate, his bravado vanishing.
"You said your name is Hyuga Shinra," Jiraiya grumbled, changing tactics. "From the Hyuga clan. But you don't have the Byakugan. Aren't you the one they call the—"
"JIRAIYA!" Tsunade's voice cracked through the air like a whip.
Jiraiya flinched, the rest of his sentence dying in his throat. He hadn't meant real harm; his mouth often worked faster than his brain. "Sorry, kid," he muttered, genuinely chastened.
"It's fine," Shinra said, his expression serene. "I don't let words like that bother me. Time will prove everything."
His calm response surprised them. "You have a remarkably good mindset," Tsunade noted, though she shot Jiraiya a look that promised retribution. "If someone said that to me, they'd be eating through a straw for a week."
"Good mindset? Hah." The comment was a mask. The truth was, Shinra had the patience of a spider. He would let minor insults slide off his back, but if anyone ever truly threatened his goals or his safety, his retaliation would be swift and absolute.
"Anyway, we were just on our way to the barbecue place," Tsunade said, her mood brightening again. "Why don't you join us? It's my treat."
She found herself feeling oddly protective of this sharp-tongued, enigmatic boy. He was about the same age her little brother Nawaki would have been, and a faint, painful sense of familiarity tugged at her heart.
"Sure, I'd love to," Shinra agreed readily. A free meal was a free meal, and he wasn't about to turn it down.
The truth was, his finances were stretched thin. The intense physical conditioning from the Marine Six Styles had turned him into a human furnace, requiring vast amounts of high-quality food to fuel his growth. His inheritance was being consumed at an alarming rate.
Jiraiya, meanwhile, felt his wallet weep in anticipatory sorrow. Tsunade, a notorious gambler, was perpetually broke. Orochimaru was tighter with his money than a sealed scroll. He, Jiraiya, was always the one left holding the bill. *At least it's just a kid,* he consoled himself. *How much could he possibly eat?*
When they arrived at the bustling barbecue restaurant, the owner greeted the trio with a wide, familiar smile.
"The Hokage's disciples! Welcome! For my best regulars, today everything is 30% off!" the owner declared generously.
"Thank you, boss!" Jiraiya exclaimed, his spirits lifting. A discount! Maybe this wouldn't bankrupt him after all.
Once they were seated, Jiraiya, flush with false confidence, puffed out his chest. "Order whatever you want, kid. I'm paying."
"Is that so?" Shinra's smile was deceptively sweet. "In that case, boss, we'll start with ten plates of your best beef. We can order more later."
Jiraiya chuckled. "Kid, there are four of us. Ten plates is a good start, but it might not be enough."
Hyuga Shinra looked at him as if he were simple. "I think you misunderstood. Those ten plates are just for me. You should order your own."
Jiraiya shot to his feet. "Wh-What?! Ten plates?! You'll pop!"
"Shinra, don't order more than you can handle," Tsunade advised, a note of concern in her voice.
"Don't worry," Shinra said, already expertly placing the meat on the grill. The sizzle was music to his ears. "This is just an appetizer to whet the palate."
"Listen here, you little—" Jiraiya sputtered, thinking of the cost—a thousand ryo per plate! "If you can't finish all that, you're going to be the one running laps around Konoha!"
"Deal," Shinra said, his grin widening. "If I can't finish it, I'll run. Now, let's eat."
As the three Sannin ordered their own ten plates and two flasks of sake, Jiraiya watched in mounting horror as Shinra began to eat with the methodical, relentless efficiency of a industrial processor. Piece after piece of perfectly grilled meat vanished into the boy's mouth. The "appetizer" was disappearing at an alarming rate, and Jiraiya's dream of a discounted meal was going up in smoke, replaced by the chilling certainty of a massive bill.