56 Taste 1

Satoru looked around at the familiar faces, his curiosity growing. "How long was I out for?" he asked.

Shinichi, leaning against the wall, answered, "The doctors predicted at least two weeks, maybe more. But you woke up after just three days."

Mitsuki-sensei, who had remained silent until now, added, "It's incredibly rare for someone to recover from a coma that quickly. You're an anomaly, Satoru."

Satoru's gaze drifted back to the empty bowl on the tray. Without hesitation, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, preparing to stand. Tatsuo rushed forward to support him, but Satoru waved him off and stood on his own.

"I'm fine," Satoru said, his tone firm. "Take me to the cafeteria. I need to eat."

Before Tatsuo could respond, Tsunade entered the room alongside the nurse, her authoritative presence halting Satoru in his tracks.

"You're not going anywhere," Tsunade said sharply.

Satoru frowned. "Why not? I feel fine."

Tsunade crossed her arms. "You suffered a concussion. It's affected you more than you think. We need to assess the extent of it and address it properly."

The nurse began ushering everyone out of the room, leaving Satoru alone with Tsunade. Once they were alone, Tsunade asked him a series of questions, her sharp eyes observing him closely. Many of the questions were unrelated to his current condition and instead focused on his dreams.

Satoru struggled to recall the details, his memories hazy and incomplete. "I don't remember much," he admitted. "Just... the emotions. They were strong, like I was reliving something important."

Tsunade's expression softened slightly. "Whatever food you tasted in your dream is connected to the memories resurfacing now. Your desire to recreate that taste might drive you to uncover those memories."

Satoru tried to describe the food, but his explanation was too vague to be useful. Frustration flickered across his face as he realized how little he could recall.

Tsunade placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't force it. These things take time."

She stood and gestured for the others to return. "Let him rest for now. His body might be awake, but his mind is still recovering."

As Satoru sat in his hospital bed, still trying to piece together fragments of his memory, Shinichi finally answered the question lingering in his mind.

"Kaito and Chosuke are still recovering," Shinichi began, his voice steady but grim. "And Inoko... she's sustained permanent damage. She won't be an active shinobi anymore."

Satoru's heart sank. He stared at his hands, unsure how to process the news. "I see," he murmured, sadness evident in his tone.

Shinichi continued, "Danzo wishes to speak with you after you recover. Prepare yourself."

Mitsuki placed a hand on Satoru's shoulder, offering some reassurance. "You'll be discharged tomorrow. Take this time to rest."

The Next Day

After being discharged, Satoru was immediately escorted to Root Headquarters. He walked through the silent halls, the air heavy with an unspoken tension. When he arrived at Danzo's office, he hesitated before opening the door.

Inside, Danzo stood by the window, his gaze distant. Satoru stepped closer, his eyes catching the sight of a blood-stained tissue resting on the desk.

"What happened?" Satoru asked, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Danzo turned to face him, his expression calm but tired. "I'm sick," he admitted. "I've been coughing blood for some time now."

Satoru nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. "Good luck with your recovery," he offered sincerely, then added, "Why did you bring me here?"

Danzo studied him for a moment before speaking. "Tell me about the dream you had while in your coma."

Satoru frowned, trying to recall the details. "I don't remember much," he admitted. "There was a boy my age, and another who was older. We talked... but everything else is hazy."

Danzo's eyes narrowed slightly. "And your family? Do you know who they are or what happened to them?"

Satoru hesitated, then shook his head. "No. Do you?"

Danzo nodded. "I investigated your family's status some time ago. You are the last surviving member."

The words hit Satoru like a weight. He remained silent as Danzo continued, "I've also located the properties and possessions your family owned. Once you achieve the rank of chunin, they will be transferred to you."

Satoru bowed slightly, his gratitude evident. "Thank you."

Danzo's gaze lingered on him for a moment before he turned back to the window, signaling the end of their conversation.

Danzo studied Satoru with his usual calculating gaze. "During the mission," he began, "you mentioned a man asked if you knew something. What do you recall about him?"

Satoru shook his head. "Not much," he admitted.

Danzo nodded, as if expecting this response. "Don't worry. Root operatives interrogated those captured during the mission—the ones Chosuke and his friend fought, along with those stationed at the village near the Land of Rivers and Tea. We've gathered significant information."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "What did you find out?"

Danzo leaned forward slightly. "The individuals you encountered are part of a larger organization with influence across multiple nations. Thanks to the interrogations, we've uncovered several outposts, camps, and even the identities of a few higher-ups. Plans are underway to apprehend them."

Satoru frowned, guilt creeping into his voice. "I'm sorry for messing up the mission... and for letting Reiko come along."

Danzo dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand. "There's no need to apologize. That mission was... partially scripted."

Satoru blinked, confused. "Scripted? What do you mean? Were the bandits fake?"

Danzo shook his head. "No, the bandits were very real, as was the danger. However, reinforcements were deliberately withheld."

Satoru's confusion turned to anger. "Why would you do that?" he demanded.

Danzo's tone remained calm, unbothered by Satoru's frustration. "To lure out key members of this organization. If we had sent an overwhelming force or too many skilled shinobi, the organization's spies and informants would have caught on. The bandits wouldn't have been sent, and we would've lost the opportunity to extract valuable intelligence."

Satoru clenched his fists. "My friends were hurt because of this. And Reiko—"

"—was never part of the plan," Danzo interjected. "Her presence was unexpected, but Shinichi executed the mission exactly as required, even if unknowingly."

Danzo leaned back in his chair. "This organization has two critical teams: Team Hidari and Team Migi. Shinichi's efforts ensured that two members were captured alive and two were eliminated. That alone has set us ahead of them."

Satoru's anger simmered, but he knew he couldn't change what had happened. The realization that his friends' injuries had been collateral damage for the village's greater plan left a bitter taste in his mouth.

---

Satoru was walking home, his steps heavy with exhaustion as he thought longingly of a warm shower and a quiet evening. The events of the past few days had left him drained, and he craved the comfort of routine. He was nearly at his doorstep when a pair of hands suddenly covered his eyes.

"Guess who?" a playful voice teased from behind.

Satoru paused, his mind blank for a moment before he replied, "Keiko?"

The hands dropped instantly, and Reiko stepped in front of him, her expression momentarily faltering before she forced a cheerful smile. "Wow, really? You think I'm Keiko?" she asked, trying to sound amused, though there was a faint edge to her tone.

Satoru blinked. "Oh, Reiko. I didn't expect you to be here."

Reiko quickly shrugged it off and started walking beside him. "So, how are you feeling? You know, health-wise."

Satoru adjusted his pace to match hers, his voice calm but honest. "I feel a little weak. But it's nothing that training can't fix."

Reiko nodded thoughtfully. "And that... food thing? What happened with that? Are you still craving it?"

Satoru sighed, his hands slipping into his pockets. "It hasn't gone away. It's irritating. It's not hunger—it's like..." He paused, searching for the right words. "It's like wanting a hit of a drug. At least, that's the closest way to describe it."

Reiko frowned slightly. "That sounds... intense. I'm sorry. Would you like to eat something? My treat."

Satoru considered her offer, but then remembered it was Monday—Keiko's cooking day. He shook his head. "Thanks, but Keiko is expecting me for dinner. I should head home."

Reiko stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Wait," she said. "There's a restaurant nearby, run by my cousins. They're amazing cooks. You should try it."

"I already said—"

Reiko cut him off, her tone softening. "I want to pay you back, you know... for not getting me punished during the mission. Please, just this once?"

Satoru hesitated, his mind still torn between obligation and curiosity.

Reiko took a step closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Maybe you'll find that taste you're craving by trying their dishes."

Her words caught him off guard, and for a moment, he stood frozen. The idea stirred something within him, a flicker of hope he couldn't quite ignore.

Without another word, Satoru started walking. Reiko grinned triumphantly and followed beside him, guiding him toward the restaurant.

At Keiko's house, the kitchen was bustling with activity. Tatsuo stood at the counter, diligently chopping vegetables while. He handed off a handful of chopped carrots to Keiko, who stirred them into a simmering pot.

"Can you hand me the onions now?" Keiko asked, her tone warm yet focused.

Tatsuo nodded, grabbing the onions despite his watery eyes and handing them over. "Keiko-nee," he asked through sniffles, "why are you making this soup in particular?"

Keiko smiled softly, her hands moving with practiced ease as she diced the onions. "Every time Satoru eats this soup, it's like all his sadness and exhaustion just vanish. It's comforting for him. After everything he's been through—the mission, the coma—he deserves something that makes him happy. Something that feels like home."

Tatsuo sniffled harder, both from the onions and her heartfelt answer. "That's... really nice of you, Keiko-nee," he said, his voice slightly choked. "Satoru will definitely appreciate this."

As he spoke, Tatsuo grabbed an onion and tossed it at Dai, who had just walked into the kitchen. Dai caught it mid-air with a groan.

"Cut this, Dai!" Tatsuo demanded, tears still streaming.

Dai grumbled but moved to join him at the counter. "Why do I have to suffer with you?" he muttered, grabbing a knife and starting on the onion.

Keiko chuckled at their antics, her laughter filling the room. Watching them bicker while working together brought a warmth to her heart. As she stirred the soup, she thought about how perfectly Satoru balanced these two. Tatsuo's quiet thoughtfulness and Dai's loud energy—Satoru was the bridge that connected them, the steady force that held their small group together.

---

Satoru took a bite of chicken and sighed, setting his chopsticks down. "Reiko, I think I'll leave now," he said, his voice flat.

Ignoring his words, Reiko picked up a piece of food with her chopsticks, blew on it gently, and brought it near his mouth. "Here, try this," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Before Satoru could protest, she fed him the piece and then wiped a small stain off his lip with a napkin.

Satoru blinked, unsure what to make of her behavior. 'What is she up to?' he thought, glancing at her carefully.

"How's the taste?" Reiko asked, her tone cheerful.

"It's nice," Satoru admitted, "but... it's not what I'm looking for."

Her smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly covered it up. "Oh, I see," she said softly.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, Satoru apologized and stood up to leave. Before he could take another step, Reiko discreetly signaled to her real self in the kitchen. That Reiko, who had been tirelessly cooking dish after dish, was stirring a pot of soup with tears in her eyes.

"Reiko, stop," her cousin said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's leaving."

She shook her head, ignoring him. "Just one more dish," she whispered, determination shining through her exhaustion.

Meanwhile, the Reiko at the table grabbed Satoru's hand, halting his departure. "Please, stay for just one more dish," she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly.

Satoru hesitated. He wanted to refuse, but the desperation in her eyes struck a chord. He reluctantly sat back down.

From the kitchen, the cousin called out, "He's staying!"

Instantly, the cooking Reiko's face lit up. Smiling through her fatigue, she grabbed the pot of soup and rushed out to the dining area.

Satoru's confusion grew as he saw her appear, sweat covering her face, hair messy, and wearing a chef's apron. He turned to the Reiko sitting beside him and then back at the one holding the soup. "What... what's going on?"

Placing the pot on the table, Reiko ignored his question. "It's okay if you didn't like the other dishes, But I'm sure you'll love this one."

Scooping up a spoonful of soup, she brought it close to his mouth.

Satoru hesitated. "Did you cook all the dishes?" he asked, glancing at her tired appearance.

"Yes," she admitted, "and this one is my family's secret recipe."

He took a sip of the soup, and his heart sank. It was... bad. The exhaustion from cooking nonstop had clearly taken its toll on her efforts.

But as Reiko reached for his hand and looked at him expectantly, her smile so genuine and filled with hope, Satoru forced a grin. "This is... amazing," he said, lifting the entire pot to drink.

Reiko's face lit up with satisfaction as she watched him finish. "I knew you'd like it," she said with pride.

Satoru stood up to leave, stomach groaning but heart unable to crush her spirit. As he walked toward the door, Reiko quickly followed. "I'll walk you home," she said brightly, her energy renewed despite her exhaustion.