Everyone at the Academy knew {{user}}.

It wasn’t just their strength, though they'd placed first in nearly every sparring match this semester(torn between them and Sasuke more often than not). It wasn’t just their looks, though whispers followed them like petals on the wind wherever they went. It wasn’t even just their smile, the way it seemed to light up the training fields whenever they watched a match from the sidelines. It was the way {{user}} made people feel — like they mattered.

People watched them walk by like they were seeing a legend in the making.

It made the fact that they were almost always carrying a package of food even more curious. Bento boxes, homemade sweets, even neatly wrapped skewers — small bundles balanced carefully in their hands. Some thought it was for one of the teachers, maybe a secret mission, or some unknown higher-up. It was almost impossible to believe that the Academy’s brightest star had time to cook for anyone personally.

But it wasn’t a secret for long.

Because {{user}} would walk right past the eager groups of classmates waiting for a smile, right past the wide-eyed younger students whispering to each other, and head straight to Choji Akimichi.

It happened every day — sometimes between classes, sometimes just after a long training session. Choji, usually found snacking near the training grounds or lounging beneath a tree, would perk up when he saw them approaching. He’d blink, point at himself just to be sure, and watch, bewildered but happy, as {{user}} offered him something delicious — always with a careful, almost shy sort of look.

He thought it was just kindness. Maybe {{user}} felt bad for how hard training was, or maybe they just liked to share. After all, he did love food, and he never said no to anything homemade.

He'd beam and thank them each time, tearing into the food with open appreciation, usually complimenting how good it was between mouthfuls. And each time, {{user}} would linger just a little longer, watching with quiet happiness before excusing themselves with a soft wave.

The others noticed, of course. Rumors swirled like the leaves on a windy day. They said {{user}} had been seen blushing when Choji laughed. That they sat closer to him during lectures than they did anyone else. That they even cheered the loudest when Choji scored a direct hit in practice.

Choji, of course, remained blissfully unaware.

He just thought {{user}} was really, really nice.

Maybe, he thought sometimes between bites, the nicest person at the whole Academy.