The Tables Have Turned (A NaruHina Story)

1

I need that.

I need all the training I can get. 

"Name?"

I blinked.

Oh. I didn't even realize I walked through the front door nor was it my turn at the registration table. The old auntie looked up at me, annoyance plastered her entire face.

Oops.

"Eh? Sorry. Uzumaki Naruto." 

She proceeded to type away on her laptop before reaching under the desk. She produced a lanyard with an ID tag containing a number and my picture I submitted last month when I registered. 

"Good luck to you, Contestant 297." I thanked her with a bow and hurried my way of line. Something tells me if I lingered even a bit longer, she would not get any kinder towards me.

Never mind that.

I finally took in my surroundings, my hand tightening around my briefcase. Chefs of all ages were scattered and talking. The walls of the convention center were tall thus allowing immense echoing throughout. I noticed a family where the father was rocking his child while his wife spoke fondly to him. Right beside them, a father stood with his arms crossed eyeing his son through his glasses as he nodded. 

Yikes. I'm glad my dad was never that strict with me but I do respect that intensity. If that kid makes in it, he's going to have a set career ahead of him.

I wish him best of luck.

Alright, Naruto. I sucked in a breath. You need to start focusing on yourself.

There are three rounds total over the span of three days. Everything happening in this competition is being broadcasted on television as well. Just like all those American cooking shows with Gordon Ramsey.

Oh shit...

That means the entire nation of Japan are watching us. 

I didn't take that in as a factor. 

My palms started getting sweaty as my mind presented me with so many ways I could fuck up a recipe. What if I accidently curse when one of those TV folk comes up and asks me a question? Will a simple f-bomb be the end of my culinary career even before it starts?

Fuck! I need to stop cursing...

FUCK!

"Naruto?" 

For a brief moment, my head stopped spinning. 

That voice.

Hey! I know that voice!

"Sasuke?!" I turned to see a uniformed cop with jet-black hair make his way up to me. 

"It is you!" He held out his hand and I quickly accepted it, pulling him into a hug.

"No way the second in our class graduated high school and became an officer." I chuckled. "Here I thought you'd be some sort of lawyer."

"It's detective in a week, asshole. Plus, got find a way to pay the bills, right? Being a lawyer would only pile up the debt." He smirked at me, not noticing my little physical flinch at the mention of paying debt. "How've you been? It's been what...seven years already?"

Has it been that long?

He's been my best friend since we were in grade school. His parents and my dad were close since they were kids as well. After everything happened, I just graduated high school and ran to the US to escape all the hurt that was left here in Konoha. It took me five years to finally return but I didn't reach out to any of my old crew. Instead, I just jumped back on the road to Tokyo for the community college for another two years.