The storm-laden air of Kumo still crackled with the aftershock of revelation. In the hours following the public demonstration, the village had dissolved into a state of celebratory disbelief. But for the inner circle—the pillars of Kumo's new era—the true unpacking of the journey was just beginning, and it would involve their other senses in a profound way.
A's Office - The Raikage's Perspective
A stood at his office window, his massive arms crossed, watching the singing forest in the valley below pulse with gentle light. His mind, a tactical engine always running, was struggling to compute what he'd witnessed.
A: (To himself, a low grumble) "A forest that hears. A Susanoo that rewrites reality. And they look like they could wrestle the Hachibi and win… without using chakra." He shook his head. The sheer scale of it was forcing him to recalibrate every defense protocol, every strategic assumption. Kumo was no longer just a hidden village; it was the fortress of demigods. The power was exhilarating, the responsibility terrifying. He needed to understand the source. Not just the stories, but the substance. What fuel had forged these two into what they were now?
His thoughts were interrupted by a pulse from the communication seal on his desk. It was Indra.
Indra's Voice (through seal): "Lord Raikage. We would like to host a private tasting for you and the key pillars of Kumo. The true fruits of our journey. In the Uzumaki compound garden. One hour."
A raised a bushy eyebrow. A tasting? Not a briefing. A tasting. He'd seen the weird fruits and singing wood. The idea of eating something from that impossible world was both intriguing and slightly alarming. What would it do to a man?
A: "I'll be there. With an iron stomach."
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The Uzumaki-Uchiha Compound - The Parents' Perspective
In the private gardens of the compound, a space had been prepared not with a formal table, but with comfortable seating around a central, flat stone that served as a natural platter. Delia and Fujin were there first, their emotions a tangled knot of pride, residual anxiety, and overwhelming curiosity.
Delia: She fussed with the placement of a cushion. "A tasting. He said to come hungry. Fujin, what if the food… I don't know, gives us visions or rearranges our bones?"
Fujin: His Sharingan was deactivated, his face its usual stern mask, but a faint tremor in his hand as he adjusted his police cloak betrayed him. "Our son has always been precise. If he offers it, it is safe for consumption. The question is not of physical safety, but of… comprehensibility. We are about to consume a piece of a universe with different rules."
Venelana and Zeoticus arrived, their aristocratic poise intact but their eyes alight with intellectual hunger.
Venelana: "A culinary report. How utterly fascinating. The biochemical data alone could fill years of research."
Zeoticus: "Forget the data, my dear. The political currency of being served the first otherworldly meal… This is a gesture of immense trust and a display of soft power. Note how we are included not just as family, but as clan heads."
Sirzechs leaned against a tree, a smile playing on his lips. He was less interested in the politics and more in the pure, audacious novelty. "Little brother certainly doesn't do things by halves. I wonder if it'll be spicy."
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The Training Cliffs - The Jinchuriki & The Sovereigns' Perspective
Away from the compound, on a high, secluded cliff face used for Jinchuriki training, two figures and two very non-human presences convened.
Killer B, no longer a vessel but buzzing with liberated, immense chakra, practiced a flowing taijutsu kata. Yugito Nii, also free, her demeanor calmer but her eyes sharper than ever, watched the horizon.
Killer B: "Yo! The prodigy's back, a total shock! Built like a mountain, tall as a rock! And Rias, a beauty, no longer a chick, their power makes my old rhymes feel sick!" He paused his kata. "But the real question, the one that sticks… what's the food like from their inter-dimensional trips?"
Yugito: A small smile. "Always thinking with your stomach, B. But… I am curious. To taste something from a world that isn't bound by our natural laws… What would it even be like?"
The air before them shimmered. Not with a summoning puff, but with a dignified, solid coalescence of energy. Two avatar forms appeared. Gyūki, the Sovereign of the Inkwell Depths, was a magnificent, smaller version of his former self, his octopus-bull form wrought in deep indigo and gold ink-like energy, thrumming with profound, watery power. Beside him, Matatabi, the Sovereign of the Sapphire Ember, was a sleek, two-tailed cat of living blue fire and crystalline fur, her form giving off a heatless, purifying warmth.
Gyūki: His voice was a deep, bubbling rumble, like a subterranean geyser. "We felt the shift in the world's fabric. The children have returned, trailing the scent of… foreign physics. And life. Immense, unbridled life-energy."
Matatabi: Her voice was a crisp, melodic crackle. "The green-haired girl… she smells of a forest that sings. And the boy… his soul has patterns I cannot parse. They offer a meal. For the first time in our long existence, we are invited to a feast not as power sources, but as guests. In these forms… we can taste." She sounded intrigued, a novel sensation for an ancient being.
B: "Then let's jet, don't wanna be late for this cosmic buffet set!"
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The Main Street - The Friends' Perspective
Samui, Darui, Omoi, and Karui had gathered at a favored dango stand, but none were eating. The afternoon's events had left them speechless.
Karui: She finally broke the silence, her usual fiery temper subdued by awe. "Did you… see her? Rias? She was always pretty but now she's… she's like those statues of the goddess in the old temple. And that forest just… sprang out of the ground singing! How are we supposed to train normally after that?"
Omoi: He popped a dango in his mouth, chewing slowly, his face the picture of pessimistic analysis. "This is bad. Very bad. If their normal is now that, then the enemies will have to be proportionally worse. We're looking at world-ending threats as a baseline. The probability of us being useful in a direct fight has just dropped to 2.7%. Maybe 3% if we get surprising upgrades. This is very, very bad."
Darui: The future Raikage-elect sighed, running a hand over his head. "Troublesome… but incredibly impressive. Lord Raikage's strategic calculations just got blown to pieces. And did you see Indra? I used to be able to at least imagine sparring with him. Now? He moved a hill like it was a chess piece." A rare, competitive spark lit in his dark eyes. "Still… to taste what powered that up…"
Samui: Her cool, analytical demeanor was intact, but her blue eyes held intense focus. "The invitation specified it was safe for consumption and would be 'instructive.' This is not a social event. It is a data-gathering mission. We are to experience a fraction of their journey sensorily to better understand the new operational paradigm." She stood up. "We should proceed. Punctuality is important."
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The Garden Feast - Convergence
The garden was full. A dominated one space, a mountain of muscle next to the elegant Zeoticus. The parents clustered together. B and Yugito sat with an easy familiarity, while the Sovereign avatars of Gyūki and Matatabi loomed respectfully at the garden's edge, their presence a warm (and slightly cool) hum. Samui's team sat attentively.
At the center stood Indra and Rias. Before them was Komatsu's insulated Bento of Parting, now opened. It was a work of art, but an alien one. The rice glowed with a soft gold light. The fish fillet was translucent with rainbow hues. The pickled vegetables were geometric shapes. A soup steamed with galaxies. And there were side dishes of things that looked like jeweled moss and compressed starlight.
Indra: "This meal was a gift from a friend, a master chef of the Human World in that other universe. It is made from ingredients of that world, but prepared with a skill that transcends dimensions. It is safe. It will not alter your biology. But it will… expand your palate's vocabulary. We will serve you a small portion of each component."
With Rias's help, using utensils of Sonic-Wood, they began to serve tiny, exquisite portions onto plates of carved acoustic crystal that amplified scent and sound.
The First Bite: The Glowing Rice.
Everyone ate. A silence fell, broken by sharp intakes of breath.
Delia: Her medic-nin mind short-circuited. "It's… it's not just rice. Each grain is a perfect, individual flavor—nutty, sweet, savory—and they harmonize. And the texture… it's simultaneously fluffy and al dente. This is impossible."
Fujin: His Sharingan had activated involuntarily. "I see… the energy within. It's not chakra. It's a simpler, purer life-force. It's… clean."
A: He chewed slowly, his brow furrowed. "It tastes… strong. Like the essence of a perfect harvest from a land that's never known famine. It makes our best rations taste like ash." There was no complaint in his voice, only stunned acknowledgment.
Killer B: "Yo! This grain's got flavor that's insane! It's kickin' in my brain, a delicious rain! My tongue's throwin' a party, forget the pain!"
Gyūki's avatar rumbled, a sound of deep pleasure. "Consumption without extraction. A gift, freely given. The flavor… has a history. I taste sunlight on vast, peaceful paddies. A memory of growth without conflict."
Matatabi: She delicately nibbled her portion with a crystalline paw. "Warm. Orderly. Nourishing to the spirit, not just the form. A comforting constant."
The Second Bite: The Rainbow Fish.
The reaction was more visceral.
Yugito: She gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "It's… alive? No, it's the memory of being alive. Of swimming in a current so clear and powerful… I can feel the water pressure, the thrill of the hunt… It's joyous!"
Omoi: He stared at his empty fork. "This is terrible. If fish can taste this good, what's the point of anything else? The inevitable disappointment of all future meals will be a constant source of existential dread. The calculated misery is overwhelming."
Karui: Tears welled in her eyes, confusing her. "Why is it making me cry? It's so… free. It tastes like being utterly, powerfully free."
Samui: "Data point: Flavor can directly stimulate the limbic system, bypassing conscious processing to evoke pure emotion. The culinary skill here is a form of high-fidelity emotional transmission. Troublesome to defend against if weaponized, but sublime as art."
Darui: He just nodded, eyes closed, a look of deep peace on his face. "Yeah… troublesome."
Zeoticus and Venelana ate with scientific reverence, whispering to each other about lipid structures and harmonic protein chains.
The Main Event: The Soup of a Thousand Stories.
This was served in small, deep cups. It was clear, with swirling nebulae of oil and tiny, glowing specks.
They all drank.
The garden vanished.
For a fraction of a second, each person experienced a sensory flash—not a vision, but a feeling-concept.
A felt the unyielding patience of a continent, the weight of benevolent rule. Delia felt the healing warmth of a sun that nurtured all wounds. Fujin perceived a perfect, unwavering law, justice made manifest. B and Yugito felt the roaring joy of pure, unchained existence. Gyūki felt the depth of a peaceful, endless ocean. Matatabi felt the clean, purifying heat of a benevolent blue star. The younger shinobi felt the potent, driving ambition to protect, to grow, to become.
It lasted a heartbeat. Then they were back in the garden, clutching their cups, breathing hard.
Absolute silence.
A: He looked at Indra, his expression utterly serious, all bluster gone. "That… was not food. That was an experience. A lesson. You ate like this… for a year?"
Indra: "Not always this refined. But yes. We ate the essence of that world. It taught us. It changed us at a cellular level. This meal is a courtesy, a glimpse. What we brought back are the ingredients—the seeds, the samples, the energies. Kumo's soil, infused with chakra and our will, can learn to grow a shadow of this bounty. Our strength, our health, our very understanding of life… it can all ascend."
The statement hung in the air, thick with promise.
Rias: She gestured to the final item—a small, jewel-like dessert. "This is sweetness. Not just of sugar, but of a promise kept, of a challenge met, of a friendship forged across worlds." She served it.
The taste was of sublime, earned happiness. It washed away the shock, leaving behind a profound, settled wonder.
The feast concluded not with full bellies, but with full hearts and expanded minds.
Gyūki: "We thank you. To taste… is to understand a new facet of existence. Your world and the other… they are now connected, in this small way, through shared sensation. Our purpose as Sovereigns feels… enriched."
Matatabi: "The girl of green and song… your energy is akin to this. A life-force that composes. We would speak with you, of growing things that burn with pure light."
B: He was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, then pointed a finger at Indra. "You brought back the flavor of power, I see! It's not just muscles and bigger jutsu, it's a whole new recipe! Kumo's gonna cook up a storm that'll shake the world loose!"
Darui: "Troublesome… but incredible. Lord Raikage, the tactical applications of even diluted versions of these ingredients for stamina, healing, morale…"
A: He nodded, his strategic mind already racing ahead of the wonder. "We'll need secured greenhouses. Uzumaki researchers on biochemistry. A new branch of the military—Logistics and Ascendant Supply." He looked at Indra and Rias. "You've given us a new front to win: the front of our own potential."
As the guests began to leave, filled with a quiet awe, Delia approached her son and future daughter-in-law. She didn't speak. She simply pulled them both into a long, tight hug. The scolding mother was gone, replaced by a woman who finally understood the scale of the cliff her children had climbed, and the breathtaking view they had brought back for everyone.
That night, as Kumo slept under its eternal storm, dreams were filled with the taste of glowing rice and the feeling of boundless freedom. The village had been fed, not just food, but a vision of a future so bright, so potent, it could be tasted on the tongue. The Sovereigns had returned, and their first act was not a decree or a battle, but a shared meal that redefined what was possible for every soul present. The foundation of the new era was not laid in stone or law, but in flavor and memory.
End of Chapter – 73.