Ah, Konohagakure. His home, the one and only. A cool Spring evening had fallen over the Village Hidden in the Leaves, the setting sun casting a beautiful and heavenly orange glow across the countryside and painting the sky a magnificent mixture of blues, oranges, pinks, and purples. The tree leaves had begun to show, and the Sakura trees were blooming in force. Although Iwagakure and Konohagakure shared the same sun, much as the rest of the planet itself did, the sun here felt... warmer. It seemed more colourful. Perhaps he was just a little biased, or... Well, to be completely honest, Takao was very, very biased. There was no place like home, after all.

Takao had promised an important person in his life that he'd come home for dinner, but he had to be honest with himself. His Mother's cooking was atrocious, and he'd traveled much too far and been through far too much to go the night without a proper meal. He wasn't expected to arrive for another hour and a half at the earliest as well, so there was plenty of time to kill. The Shushaya Pub was his chosen venue for the evening, a restaurant mixed with a bar that boasted their own home brewn sake. The scale of the building itself was impressive enough, high ceiling supported by high ceilings and staving off the impending darkness of night with a plethora of small lights scattered about. As his glove-clad hand pushed open the front door, obsidian eyes noted the sheer amount of patrons. Had he stumbled home during some sort of celebration? A festival perhaps, Konohagakure had its fair share of those. Or perhaps it was just Friday night, with people ready to enjoy the weekend and treating themselves beforehand. He glanced from one corner of the building to the next and found that every booth was occupied, and every chair at every table had a butt in it. His onyx orbs settled upon the bar next. Lady Luck had smiled her good fortune upon him, for a few stools next to one another had found themselves unoccupied. He would need to be changing that, at least for one of them.

The raven-haired teen settled into one of the stools and ensured that there was at least a one stool buffer between him and the next patron. His eyes drifted across the impressive selection of booze whilst the tender helped the few that had seated themselves for him. Seldom did he indulge in the sin of alcohol, but he wasn't trying to maintain any sort of status as a Saint either. He'd done his fair share of sinning, especially in the past few weeks, so he was rather sure that indulging in a drink wouldn't be what did him in. Ever the connoisseur of alcohol, Takao's eyes wandered across the labels and selected one at random. Akita Seishu had caught his attention. Akita, the breed of dog, paired with... Sake. Odd, but good enough for him.

Takao gestured for the bartender when he had come to a conclusion and ordered the Sake, along with a side of Yakitori. He was dreading whatever his Mother might have cooked for him, so he figured that he'd at least give himself a last meal to enjoy. He found his age momentarily questioned, but after a mention of his status, it was quickly disregarded. Being the former Hokage had perks that he rarely flexed, this time excluded. He was served quickly, and he opted to diverting his attention toward the television overhead to occupy his attention whilst idly chowing down on the skewered chicken.

Whatever program had been broadcast across Konohagakure and onto the particular television set in the Pub had done a positively terrible job at maintaining Takao's attention, although he couldn't necessarily fault its uninteresting presence. It was simply being used as a device to be focused upon, if only to keep his eyes from wandering around the other patrons. Interestingly enough, the inverse was true. While his eyes were set on the television, the eyes of several other patrons were on him; an odd habit of his had garnered their attention. Each time he lifted one of the skewers of chicken up from the plate, he inhaled a lungful of oxygen. That oxygen was mixed with chakra, and as he exhaled, a plume of red flames consumed the food. He rotated the skewer as he exhaled the fire onto it, and only stopped when the outside was charred and black. Truly an odd habit, and one he couldn't even begin to fathom where it might have started. He had always preferred his food to be thoroughly cooked, but this had definitely taken that preference to a new extreme.

The Yakitori crunched as he bit into and chewed it, obsidian eyes not once wavering from their object of temporal fascination. The process quickly became routine. Lift, burn, eat. He had nearly finished off the food portion of his meal when he opted to take a drink of the sake he'd ordered with it. He lifted the ochoko up to his mouth, took a drink, and... subsequently spat it out. He dropped the dish and accidentally knocked the sake over in the process, spilling most of the contents onto himself.

"A-ugh..! Sweet?!" He audibly grunted, his gaze shifting to the spilled carafe's label. He despised the flavour of sweetness, and monumentally so when it was unexpected. He exhaled an annoyed breath and stood up from the stool to examine the damage. Most of the sake had been spilled onto his lap and shirt, staining the white fabric of the latter while the former was just drenched and uncomfortable.

"Great." He grumbled, mentally berating himself for the outburst that should have been avoided.

The sweet taste of Sake lingered on his tongue, eliciting quiet grumbles of displeasure from his throat. To call his reaction excessive would be a gross understatement, but despite his odd habit of burning some foods before eating them, he took the culinary aspects of his palate very seriously. Hence the explosive reaction to an unexpected sweet food, the only flavour he truly disliked.

His attention was caught by a female voice, perhaps a little on the nervous or timid side, inquiring as to whether or not he needed help. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, obsidian eyes shifting and turning with his head as he glanced her way. His body had been spared of injury, but whatever semblances of pride he had would've taken quite the blow.

"Naw, yeah, I'm uh... I'm good." Takao said, momentarily shifting his gaze back to the bar. He picked up the spilled Sake and set it upright and off to the side, though most of the damage had already been done. "Just overreacted, I guess. Sorry if I like... spooked you or somethin'."