Shinobi's Guide to the Multiverse - Chapter 2

Shikamaru Nara chewed idly on his grilled kebab, eyes closed in bliss as the salty meat melted against the crunchy freshness of the cooked white onion. After a three hour Tora-sponsored manhunt that took them through the better half of Konoha’s western district, there was hardly anything better than fresh yakiniku except a nice, long nap. Of course, now that he was an official Genin beneath Asuna Sarutobi, the Hokage’s son, he couldn’t continue his afternoon power naps. For the past two weeks, his life had become a strange mixture of training, training, D-rank missions, and even more training.

He would’ve hated it if he hadn’t known what he’d be in for, but nobody became a shinobi without any expectations. Especially not a clan heir.

For now, Shikamaru simply appreciated the lunch break for what it was. After every mission, Asuma would take them out to Yakiniku Q - an Akimichi-owned barbecue restaurant- for either lunch or dinner, and over the past couple weeks, he’d learned to appreciate the odd mix of salty and sweet flavors. The reason for this outing was simple; it increased cohesiveness and bonding between all of them as they conversed the afternoon away about their progress and short-term goals, and food was an easy motivator for anyone - especially his best friend, Choji.

Even Ino ate a bit of the barbecue, though she still had the foolish tendency to swamp what little meat she grilled with a heaping amount of vegetables. How she managed to show up bright and early for training everyday with the diet of a white bunny, Shikamaru had no idea, but he was sure there’d come a time where she got over the fangirl tendencies and matured into a proper woman.

With the gossiping and loud mouth, she was already halfway there. Troublesome…

“-And that’s when she came in, red-faced and crying, because he’d already given the flowers to another woman, packed up his clothes, and moved out. On her birthday, no less! I felt so bad…” Ino sighed ‘wistfully’, but there was absolutely no guilt on her face as she carefully wrapped another slice of grilled meat in a cocoon of lettuce. As she picked up the small bundle with her chopsticks, the blonde-haired kunoichi shot a flat glare over at a chuckling Asuma. “What’s so funny, sensei?”

He stifled a grin, thumbing his nose and glancing back down at his hefty portion of yakiniku. With a snort, he began drowning it in wasabi sauce. “So she cheats on her boyfriend first, plays victim for a couple months, and then gets sad when she finds out he’s courting another woman? Sounds like due justice to me, kid.”

“… I’m not saying she isn’t in the wrong. Cheating is disgusting, and spits on those of us hoping for true love,” Ino sniffed, taking a small bite out of her lettuce wrap. After a quick chew and a swallow, she rolled her eyes and continued, “But doing it on her birthday is a little messed up, isn’t it? And I’m the one who sold him the flowers to give to his mistress!”

Shikamaru hated that he could feel his interest in the topic grow. It was like his brain wanted to melt out of his ears the more he listened to the gossip, but Asuma always egged it on, and Choji-

“Mmm, nom nom nom! Sho good…”

There would be no support from that end of the table.

He was definitely going to regret this.

“So, how did it end?” Shikamaru drawled out through a grimace, forcing the curiosity out of his voice with pure force of will. 

Ino’s crystal blue eyes glinted victoriously, Asuma chuckled into his obscenely spicy pile of grilled meat, and somehow, the young Nara knew that he’d hedged his bets poorly. Feigning disinterest shouldn’t have been an arduous task, but clearly something had been lost in translation, because his blonde-haired gossip of a teammate wasted no time diving straight into the sordid details of the affair that reminded Shikamaru a bit too much of his mother’s favorite plays. 

And just like back home, he found himself listening attentively, if for no reason other than the chance to mentally poke at the plot holes and illogicality of it all.

Romance and heartbreak. Bleh.

It was towards the tail-end of the story, and their afternoon lunch break, that the door to Yakiniku Q jingled loudly with the arrival of a new customer. Instinct more than actual curiosity had the four shinobi scoping out the entrance for the new arrival - the restaurant was fairly popular, mainly due to its ridiculously tasty meat, but afternoon times were generally very quiet for the same reason. Yakiniku was more of a dinner arrangement than a midday snack, and you’d be hard pressed to find ninja gorging on grilled, saucy, expensive meat in between missions.

Perhaps that was why he was so surprised to see one Ryoto Igarashi skulk through the doorway like an overly cautious alley-cat. Shikamaru didn’t keep up with many of his academy classmates after graduation; sometimes his team would meet up with Kiba’s because Asuma and Kurenai wanted to make googly eyes at each other, but he’d never been especially close to anyone in school outside of Choji (and, to an extent, Ino). 

Ryoto, though - he was something else. A wallflower of the highest order, quiet at best and abrasively distant at worst, although assholes back at the academy did him no favors with the overplayed foreigner taunts. The only kid he’d seemed to get along with relatively well was Naruto, and that was because the both of them were outsiders. Though, at least Ryota’s alienation made sense, no matter how idiotic the reasoning was.

But none of that explained why-

“Is it just me, or did Ryoto get… hot over the past few weeks?” 

Ino, having practically broken her neck to look back and stare, turned around with wide eyes. Her Yakiniku salad was completely forgotten in favor of brand new gossip as she lowered her voice conspiratorially. Sure enough, though his vague memories of the boy were centered moreso around his lack of presence than anything else, Shikamaru did feel like there had to have been a definite growth spurt. Either that or he’d missed the fact that Ryoto Igarashi was the tallest boy in their graduating class. 

“I’m not discussing any guy’s ’hotness’ with you, Ino. I’ve gotta draw a line somewhere, and I’m placing it there.” Shikamaru sighed, eyes lidded as he watched Ryoto curiously from the comforting warmth of his propped up arms. 

The white-haired genin hesitated for a moment, looking around the restaurant with a sharp, icy blue gaze, his instinctive caution calming into something decidedly less wary as he took his surroundings into consideration. He’d only just noticed their table, set up near the back corner of the main floor, when the double doors of the kitchen swung open.

A hearty, well-endowed woman swept out into the lobby with a flourish, all painted lips and happy jubilance, and the cool indifference fled from Ryoto in an instance. He froze, eyeing the menu the portly Akimichi waved expectantly in front of his face. 

“Good afternoon, dear! We don’t get many shinobi this early in the day. Is this your first time dining here at Yakiniku Q? And will it be a table for only one, or do you have more coming in at a later time? We also have specials for today - any marinated meats purchased in a bundle of ten with any leafy green is twenty percent off!”

“Ah, hello…?”

If his brain hadn’t already been focused on analyzing the situation so intently, Shikamaru probably would’ve found the fish out of water scene funny. Ryoto’s entire face seemed to ashen, his previously sharp eyes turning dull as the portly Akimichi woman prattled on about specials and seating arrangements and prices - she did have a bit of a motormouth, admittedly.

“I take it he was a classmate of yours.” Asuma grunted in his raspy, cigarette-enforced baritone, biting into another portion of meat. There was a bemused smirk on his bearded face as he watched Ryoto be led away by the cheerful woman, and Ino latched onto the juicy new topic with interest.

“He was, yeah! The last I’d heard, he, Ami, and Tojo were failed by their sensei on the day of graduation. Hayate Geto or something. Annny insider Jonin scoop on that, Asuma-sensei?” She gently pushed her plate out of the way, propping her elbows up on the table and narrowing her eyes at Asuma. 

Shikamaru could practically hear the cogs twisting in the man’s skull. He glanced away, towards the booth Ryoto had chosen- a corner piece across the room from theirs. He was seated on the cushion, both hands raised in a placating gesture to the overbearing Akimichi woman as she rattled off more prices and food options. His initial panic seemed to have faded, replaced by slightly wide eyes and an awkward, if withdrawn smile.

“The sensei’s name was Hayate Gekko, an old friend of mine, and an accomplished swordsman,” Asuma finally responded, his brow furrowed as he returned his attention to their table. He seemed like he was done with his food, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back with his eyes closed in thought. “He didn’t say much during the Jonin meeting, though - just said the brats didn’t have any cohesion, and that none of them stood out at all. If I’m not mistaken, none of them are from any noteworthy clans, eh?”

It was Choji who spoke up this time, having polished off his fifth plate of spare ribs already. “Ah, no, I don’t think so. Igarashi-san is an orphan, and the other two have merchant parents… I think? They were kinda just there in the background, I guess.” The beefy boy tapped a barbecue-stained finger against his fat chin in thought, his freshly engorged stomach straining against his black long-sleeve. 

“Maa, calling Ryoto a background character while he eats in the same restaurant as us. Pretty cold, Choji.” Ino ‘hid’ her lips with the back of her palm, barely even trying to cover up her teasing smirk. “Though, I guess he was pretty below average back then, wasn’t he Shikamaru?”

Choji’s face turned pale, and he shot a nervous, wide-eyed look at the distant Ryoto Igarashi. Relief nearly had him sagging down into his dirtied platters. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that Ino…”

“She’s screwing with you,” Shikamaru shook his head, smirking in spite of himself at his best friend’s hopelessly kind nature. “But she isn’t wrong. Ryoto was below average in the academy. I doubt a couple weeks of training could do much to change that.”

Asuma listened to them discuss their old classmate for a few more minutes, Ino and Choji throwing out wild theories as to why he seemed so different now, and Shikamaru shooting them down with a lazy apathy. Soon enough, the leftover dregs of food was polished off, and the topic of Ryoto Igarashi was left behind alongside their table. They returned to Training Ground 3 to continue, and conclude, the day’s training - though not without Ino glancing back at the boy with a considering look on her face.

_____________________________

With my two hands gripping four chopsticks with a familiar, dexterous ease, I smoothly flipped over my juicy cuts of sirloin just as the temperature of the grill became hot enough to truly begin searing the meats. Cloves of garlic, rosemary, and a sprig of thyme marinated within the pleasant-smelling juices as I lashed out with my right hand, gripping a shaker of crushed rock salt with my chopsticks and sprinkling the grains over the surface of the meat. 

Salt and pepper - the only two spices needed for a respectable steak.

Leaving the meat to cook in their own juices. I turned my attention to the small wooden sauce bowl beside my cooking station - only to find two wide, dark brown eyes watching me work. 

Mina Akimichi.

I’d almost forgotten about the culinary expertise portion of my ‘build’. When surrounded by powers and abilities with the names of ‘Breaker of Chains’ and ‘The Chad Grindset’, smaller things tended to be pushed to the wayside in favor of the shinier parts - which was more of a mark on me than anything else. Regardless, calling my ‘Culinary’ skill any less than those other powers would be disrespect of the highest order to the raw, fervent ability that had taken over my body and mind the second Mina had brought out my food.

Culinary Mastery was an understatement.

My mind was able to effortlessly pick apart each and every flavor profile in the raw sirloin I’d ordered. Ideas on how best to leverage the slight nutty marinade they’d used to soak the meat in, the perfect blend of salt and pepper to bring out the savoriness without cheapening the earthiness of the marinade, the knowledge of exactly how long I needed to cook the steak on either side, what temperature I needed to keep the stovetop on to perfectly sear and crust the marbling, the ingredients needed to take the juices past mediocrity and into the limits of deliciousness…

Within minutes I’d forgotten my initial nervousness and started to demand different ingredients and spices, only half paying attention to the buxom, pleasantly plump woman who decided to humor this arrogant genin.

But now-

“Oh my, Ryo-chan… this smells heavenly! To think you’d use the hot juices of the meat to cook through the cloves of garlic and bast them on top of it all.” She scooched forward on her knees, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. After a moment of enjoying the smell, she practically beamed at me, an odd glint in her large brown eyes. “You’re a natural cook. Who taught you how to prepare and sear steak like this?” 

The cooking of my food filled the air with an overwhelmingly pleasant scent of cooked fat and lightly seared beef - something that wasn’t necessarily uncommon in a Yakiniku establishment like this, but I imagined my specific bevy of herbs and spices weren’t ones usually requested by the customers here. 

Besides that, I also had the memories of my other life still clear in my mind. No food I’d ever eaten, in this reality or the other, smelled nearly as good as the simple marinated sirloin steak that I was cooking right now. There were only a few other customers in the barbecue restaurant, mainly civilians, and even they were craning their heads back with their noses in the air like ninken, attempting to get a whiff and a look at whatever this transcendental scent was. 

I couldn’t help the small smile that formed on my lips at the Akimichi woman’s praise. Neither side of my being was used to being complimented for their skill, and it was a new feeling. 

“... I’m self taught, Akimichi-san,” I finally responded, shrugging my shoulders. The lie came easy to me, my brain having already started to think of the best ways to respond even as I continued to masterfully cook the steak. “Though, this is my first time using such an expensive grill with this level of high-quality ingredients. I’m not used to this kind of marbling.”

And it was true; my body was malnourished despite its new good looks, and a meal of this quality would probably give me a pretty horrible stomachache. Quality was worth the pain, however, and I’d need quality food high in protein, healthy fats, and carbohydrates in order to build the lean, hard muscle essential to shinobi life.

Mina, in response to the admittedly smooth half-lie, hummed beneath her breath.

“Fuuu. ‘Akimichi-san’ makes me feel old, Ryo-chan. Call me Mina!” she responded, her plump lips curving into a cute, jubilant little smile. The warmth of her body, shifting closer to mine as she leaned towards the grill, brought my attention to the egregiously large mounds pressing against my arm through her dirtied apron.

My brain stalled. 

Why was this middle-aged woman so damned adorable?

“Right. Mina-san...”

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply - and unintentionally inhaling the spicy-sweet scent of the Akimichi woman invading my personal space. One half of me was practically salivating at the thought of a mature, older lady pressing her tits against my body, crooning to the heavens that I needed to take advantage of her obvious maternal kindness and milk her for all she was worth. Sexually, or otherwise.

That was James Beckham.

On the other half of my pieced-together soul, however, was the orphan who’d always been too focused on survival to worry overmuch about the opposite gender. My feelings towards girls, and women in general, had always been apathetic. Stoic. It was hard to worry about dating, or kissing, or getting your cock wet when you barely even knew where the next meal was coming from. 

Inside of me, as my attention split between ruminating over these feelings and finishing up my heavenly-smelling food…

These desires melded together. James’ overt, and frankly obscene, sexual appetite and imagination, meshed and tempered by his reincarnated self’s borderline asexuality. And, in the back of my mind, something Unconscious weighed in with its own deep gravitas. The result? I wouldn’t abuse the kindness of others to extract sexual favors, or force myself onto them if they’d no interest in me whatsoever… but with Charismatic Aura and Magnetic Presence, I would inevitably find myself surrounded by numerous beautiful, powerful, and loving women. 

I’d find my capability to handle them enhanced, as well. Already, despite my brooding and cold nature, burgeoning ideas for how to nestle my way into Mina-san’s mind was already drifting through my brain.

I wanted to Ascend. I wanted to learn, to grow, and to become the pinnacle of human excellency. Why wouldn’t I, when all of the tools were so happily dropped into my lap?

But climbing my way to the top, alone… that was foolish. And fucking wasteful. What was the point in Godhood if you had no Goddesses to share it with?

‘So, a harem. I’ll allow myself, a dirty orphan, to collect what only the noble and powerful possess…’ 

The tumultuous warring of my conjoined spirits settled with that one statement, and it felt as if a massive, overbearing weight was lifted from my chest. I blinked myself back into complete focus, calmer now in the presence of this adorable woman than I had been mere minutes before, and turned the grill off with a sharp jab of my chopsticks. 

The steak was grilled, marinated, and spiced to perfection, and by now, I could see that the steam wafting from my food had seemingly gathered the attention of both the civilians eating at their own grills, and what remained of the staff working in the back. Mina had apparently gone into the kitchen and came back with a large, porcelain bowl of steamed white rice, which she carefully set down on the table with the help of a pair of oven mits.

It was a lot of rice. More than I could eat in multiple sittings, even. Definitely more than I could afford right now, even with that twenty percent off discount.

“Mina-“

“Ah ah ahhh. I know what you’re going to say, Ryo-chan, and we’ve only just met. ‘Oh, Mina-san, you are so kind and benevolent and youthful looking, but I did not pay for this rice!’” She pressed her hands against her soft cheeks, forcibly lowering her voice into a deeper, more monotonous drawl.

I twitched at the mockery, but her silliness caused an unbidden smirk to form on my lips. “What does your age have to do with anything?”

She truly didn’t look very old to me. And if she actually was, then I guess I was attracted to old hags.

“Well, young Ryo-chan; this,” she joyfully pointed her chopsticks at me, her smile widening, “Is on the house! And I have another bundle of sirloin, some spices and sauces, and a few other leftover groceries that we don’t need…”

She… was completely ignoring the question.

I snorted. “Mina-“

“A-and,” the older woman continued, awkwardly making direct eye contact with me before quickly turning her head up to ‘obliviously’ scan the ceiling, “The only thing this poor old young lady needs in return, Ryo-chan-“

“Poor old young?”

“Is a bite of that delicious, savory, perfectly seasoned spread of juicy meat!”

…

Silence.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and suddenly, I was hyper-aware of the multiple brawlic, rotund Akimichi staff members glaring lethal daggers at me, multiple doses of lethal Killing Intent threatening to brook a cold sweat to my brow. If I’d still been the Ryoto of before, I imagined I would buckle beneath their snarls and power, but honestly- 

I could feel the menace, and danger, in their attention, but only just that. I wasn’t sure if it was Invictus, or Mental Barrier. Regardless, I found myself dismissing the big-bellied incels almost entirely as I refocused my attention on a kowtowing Mina, whose entire face was practically glowing red with embarrassment.

Pressing her forehead against the ground, the plump, curvaceous woman murmured, “I… said something weird again, didn’t I? Oh dear, oh dear.”

“Yeah.” I found myself chuckling, as I parted the chopsticks she’d brought out with the rice and slid the large bowl over to my side of the low table. “Something about ‘tasting my juicy, succulent, steaming, hot pile of delectable meat’. I’m not sure; I was overcome by embarrassment halfway through.”

With speed unsurprising for someone with potential shinobi training, Mina shot back up to her knees, doe brown eyes widening with embarrassment and horror. With her fists balled up near her oversized chest, and the cute little pout on her full lips, you’d almost forget that she was most likely double my age.

“You added most of those euphemisms afterwards, young man! Father says I’m a bit of an airhead, but… Well, I’d never-“

I waved my hand idly, my smile growing.

“Sure, sure. You’re the pinnacle of ‘virginal beauty’. I apologize for my uncouth behavior, Mina-sama,” I quipped, tilting my head back to coolly regard the flustered matron.

“V-virgin?!”

I’m not sure when our roles had become switched, and I took on the role of the supposed ‘adult one’ in this scenario, but something told me that taking the initiative with someone as floaty as Mina was the right move… So I went with it. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer. So please, sit before the juicy, delectable meat gets cold.”

“Fuuu. You cheeky brat…”

But the relieved and happy smile on her beautiful face could not hide the feelings my acceptance caused, and in those last fifteen or so minutes of my impromptu lunch break-

“Maa, it seems I only brought one pair of chopsticks!”

“Mina-san, there’s a bowl of them right there-“

“I guess we have to share, then. Sigh. That’s fine, of course; not many young, strong shinobi men are personally fed barbecue in the luxurious Yakiniku Q! You should be happy, fufufu!”

I was fed steak, rice, and veggies by a beautiful and kindhearted woman. I’d never asked her age, and she never outright stated it, but I could tell by the slightest hint of wrinkles around her eyes and the almost motherly kindness in her gaze that she was, at minimum, in her early thirties. A retired shinobi, who completed her mandatory four years in the Genin Corps and settled down with her husband to try and raise a family.

I didn’t pry about his lack of presence now, or if she had any kids. She seemed thankful for that.

The conversation wasn’t long, or even super informative, but my heart was lighter when the food had properly settled and she was following me to the door with bags of groceries and left-over food hanging from my arms. Not once during the entire meal had she left her station by my side, and although I was sure that 50 percent of that was due to my cooking ability, the other half was up in the air

I didn’t consider myself very social, or a good conversationalist. Most considered me boring, or too cold, or my wit too dry. And I’d turned Magnetic Presence off the second I realized that too much attention in a Shinobi village was the quickest way to end up dead or dying.

But here I was, being sent off by Mina Akimichi, loaded up with her gifts. Me, a clanless, foreigner orphan. 

Maybe my charisma truly has improved?

“Muu, I know you said you’ll be taking a mission or two before the days end, but please be careful! Store your food and groceries away properly, not in one of those silly storage scrolls, and drink lots of water,” she fussed, hands placed sternly on her ridiculously wide hips. 

My eyes drifted down, sneaking a peek of her exposed, endlessly bountiful cleavage, before my upper head kicked in and I nodded. “Of course, Mina-san.”

If she noticed my little glance, I couldn’t tell. 

Mina frowned sternly, most likely at my stubborn refusal to call her solely by her first name, before she sighed and shook her head with a wry smile. “We’ve got time to melt that cold exterior. You’ll learn to become more comfortable with the opposite sex, Ryo-chan. We don’t bite~.”

“I know you don’t,” I smirked, tilting my head. “You’re too innocent to play at the whole ‘experienced older woman’ role, Mina-san. Though it is cute.”

Cute.

That word seemed to reverberate off of her frontal lobe like a gong, sending vibrations straight down into her body. She flinched back as if I’d struck her with my words, eyes widening even as she clenched her fist over her heart. “Cute?! You devil. Brute! Don’t play with an old, pure young lady’s heart like that! I’m not-“

What a drama queen.

“You are. But these bags are a bit heavy, and I’ve got a long day ahead of me.” I readjusted the surplus of supplies hanging from my body like leaves off branches, and offered the blushing woman a genuine, if small smile. “Thank you, Mina. Truly. I’ll pay you back when I get a couple of D-Ranks beneath my belt.”

Instantly, her hand was raised, all fluster making way for motherly sternness once again. “Don’t even think about it, Ryo-chan! Tasting your meat-“

Snort.

She glared, coughing awkwardly before continuing, “Tasting your cooking was worth many times a few groceries. Selfishly, if I’d wanted to take advantage of your kindness and make millions, I’d ask for you to work here…”

Then she sighed, nostalgic but smiling. Wistful, even. “But I know you ninja boys. Always moving, always hungry for the next scrap. You wouldn’t have the time, and you’d be wasted here. Just come back every once and a while, hm? Keep an old bat happy…”

I glanced around, feigning caution. “There’s bats here? Old ones at that? Rare.”

“That… was horrible,” Mina deadpanned, but a giggle broke through the somber expression on her face. “But I appreciate the gesture. Now go, before the cabbage yellows!”

I glanced up at the sky.

It was getting on in the afternoon. I had to leave.

“Fine. Have a good day, Mina-san; I’ll be back Friday with stories to tell,” I waved, giving the shorter woman one last smile before turning around and walking away.

“Bye, Ryo-chan! Stay safe and kick butt! Damn it, I thought for sure he’d call me Mina…”

I doubt she expected me to hear that last part, but I wasn’t a ninja for nothing.

It had me grinning all the way back home.

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A/N:

Since this fic will be getting its own thread on QQ soon, I decided I'd start throwing the chapters of it on here before releasing 'em publicly. Let's me get quality feedback!