The Heavens: From Naruto to sign in

Anko stroked her chin, putting on the airs of a proper instructor.

She walked over to a patch of grass, crouched down, and dug up a piece of kudzu root with her kunai. After rinsing it off with water, she popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"Even though we brought military ration pills with us," she began, "they're way too valuable to waste. It's best to save them for actual combat situations when you really need to restore stamina."

She pointed to the root.

"If you're feeling hungry out here, you can dig up these wild plants to fill your belly. Got it?"

Anko's face wore a faint, self-satisfied smile.

Yoruha stared at her, visibly confused. Then, finally, he asked with a deadpan expression, "Okay, but… this isn't exactly a forest. Shouldn't we be able to catch a rabbit or a pheasant or something? Why are you chewing on roots like a deer instead of eating meat?"

It was clear he thought she was completely out of her mind.

Anko, however, had been expecting that question. With a scoff, she rolled her eyes and replied with disdain, "What are you, stupid? Rabbits and pheasants are raw. What do you want me to do—eat them alive?"

At that, Yoruha came to a full stop.

He turned and looked at her with a different kind of expression.

"So... you're telling me... you're a grown woman, a jonin, and you don't even know how to cook?"

"Excuse me?" Anko curled her lips. "We're ninjas, not chefs. What, do you want me to start garnishing plates too?"

Half an hour later.

Yoruha finished unearthing a perfectly cooked beggar's chicken from the soil.

As he cracked open the hardened layer of clay that wrapped the bird, an aroma of roasted meat filled the air.

Anko's eyes widened.

"Oh man… it smells amazing. What the hell, kid—you actually know how to cook? And not just cook, but cook well?!"

She stared at the golden, steaming chicken in his hands. Her mouth practically watered.

"You look like you're about to drool," Yoruha muttered, unimpressed. "You sure you're not some long-lost daughter from the Akimichi clan who got swapped at birth?"

He rolled his eyes.

Anko, of course, didn't take offense in the slightest.

Without a trace of shame, she snatched half the chicken and bit into it. Her expression melted into bliss.

"Mmmph—damn, my handsome little apprentice, this is delicious. Teacher's helping herself!"

Chomp chomp.

The real Anko revealed herself at last—shameless and ecstatic, eating like a windstorm sweeping away clouds.

Good thing Yoruha had hidden away half the chicken beforehand.

Otherwise… he would've starved.

Chewing thoughtfully on a chicken leg, Yoruha glanced toward Dazna, who was sitting off to the side alone. He called out casually:

"Mr. Dazna, come have some. There's plenty."

Dazna smiled awkwardly and waved the dry rations in his hand.

"No need, kid. I'll just eat this," he replied, clearly embarrassed.

After all, he'd fudged the details when he submitted the mission request.

Pretending it was a C-rank task when it could've easily qualified as B-rank? Yeah, not exactly honest.

Even if his heart was in the right place—for the people of the Land of Waves—it was still disrespectful to the ninja of the Hidden Leaf Village.

If the team assigned hadn't been Anko and Yoruha, and instead some green genin fresh out of the Academy…

Well, that could've ended in disaster.

But still, Yoruha didn't seem bothered.

To him, Dazna was nothing more than an NPC leading him to complete a side quest.

He smiled and lifted the wine bottle.

"Well, if you're not hungry, how about a drink?"

Dazna hesitated… then sniffed the air.

The scent from that bottle hit him like a dream. Even if he wasn't eating—that wine smelled incredible.

He couldn't resist.

"Kid… thank you very much," he said, finally giving in.

He pulled out an empty gourd from his pack and came over to sit beside Yoruha.

Yoruha poured him a generous splash of strong liquor.

Anko, meanwhile, looked up from her meal and shot Yoruha a side-eye.

"Hold on a second. Aren't you, like, underage? You're not old enough to drink, are you?"

The way she stared at him was somewhere between judgmental and amused.

"So what's with the fancy bottle, little man? Did you ask to grow up too fast, or are you just skipping ahead?"