The look of unholy glee on Kotetsu's face was quite amusing, as was the way he waved his arms when he described the fight. Poor Ryuichi. Poor Ryuichi's fish, whatever its name was.

She breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the end of the street and turned the last block to Wakahisa's; the stink of Perfume Lane (as she dubbed it) was beaten back by the smell of cooking food from twenty different kitchens. A symphony of different scents and flavors.

Her stomach growled again, and Katsuko sped up her walk. Old man Wakahisa, being the cheap penny-pinching bastard that he was, had taken up shop on the very end of the block. They'd have to run the gauntlet of nineteen inviting-looking (and much more expensive) restaurants before the reached his hole in the wall shop. No matter. Wakahisa still made the best food in Konoha, as far as she was concerned. His business manner, on the other hand, was what probably kept him working here and not in some fancy five-star restaurant.

Kotetsu wasn't one to take offense to anything easily, but Wakahisa's...own special brand of uniqueness tested everybody's limits. Well, it was best to just wait and see. Maybe she'd get some entertainment out of this.