When Naruto returned home, it was already late at night.
He knew he owed Shouda and Ayame an apology. Because of his prolonged stay at Ichiraku Ramen, the shop had seen fewer customers that evening.
Initially, he'd planned to leave after eating, but Ayame kept chatting, asking all sorts of questions about his life. It was rare for him to have such a normal conversation, so Naruto ended up staying. Between the chatter and tasting various types of ramen, he spent hours at the shop. After all, with no expenses for over a year, his wallet was practically bursting.
Shouda and Ayame were such simple, kind people.
Naruto sighed as he opened the door to his small, dusty apartment. It was exactly as he'd left it—unattended for over a year, with dust settling on every surface. The refrigerator was packed with expired milk and instant noodles, remnants of his past laziness.
He didn't bother turning on the lights. Instead, he grabbed two bowls of instant noodles, heated some stale water from the old kettle, and settled on the tatami in his living room. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the lower half of his body, leaving his face in shadows.
"This place is a mess," he muttered, lying back on the tatami and staring at the ceiling. Despite the disarray, it didn't bother him much. After surviving in the wild for over a year, dust and clutter felt insignificant.
But something else caught his attention.
Naruto's relaxed expression shifted, becoming sharp.
He sensed it—a faint, barely controlled malice lingering in the air.
Naruto's lips curled into a cold smile. "You're terrible at hiding, you know?" he said to the seemingly empty room, his voice cutting through the silence.
Stillness.
"If you don't speak, you might starve to death," Naruto continued, turning his head toward the darkest corner of the room. His gaze was piercing, the faint moonlight glinting off his eyes where three magatamas rotated ominously.
The tension shattered as a masked Anbu ninja materialized, emerging from the shadows with a swift motion.
"How did you notice me?" the Anbu demanded, his voice low and wary.
Naruto didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied the masked figure with open curiosity. "Transparent Escape, huh? That's impressive," he said, his tone casual.
The Anbu's grip on his kunai tightened.
Naruto smirked. "I didn't need any special techniques to sense you. Your malice practically screamed at me the moment I stepped through the door."
The Anbu ninja flinched. Though he was an experienced operative, he hadn't expected such perceptiveness from a six-year-old. Worse, Naruto seemed entirely unfazed, even amused.
Naruto opened the lid of his now-soggy noodles and took a bite, unfazed by the tension. "You must hate me a lot to radiate such hostility," he said between mouthfuls. "Want some ramen? I made enough for two."
The Anbu's eyes narrowed behind his cat-shaped mask. "Only a beast like you would eat that trash," he spat.
Naruto shrugged, setting the bowl down. "That's a pity. It's pretty good when you're starving."
The Anbu was on edge now, his unease growing as he watched the boy's unnervingly calm demeanor.
"Why are you here?" Naruto asked suddenly, his tone shifting from playful to cold.
The Anbu hesitated, but then sneered. "My parents died the night the Nine-Tails attacked. Because of you."
Naruto frowned. "That's unfortunate, but I'm not the Nine-Tails. I'm just its Jinchūriki."
"You shouldn't have been born!" the Anbu hissed, his voice venomous. "If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened. You and your parents—heroes? Don't make me laugh. They were sinners who cursed this village!"
Naruto's expression hardened, the humor leaving his face. "And so? You think killing me will fix things?"
The Anbu's silence was answer enough.
In a flash, the Anbu lunged, his kunai aimed at Naruto's heart.
Naruto didn't move.
The kunai sank into his chest with a sickening *thud.*
The Anbu's lips curled into a triumphant smirk—until he noticed something was wrong.
Naruto, still seated on the sofa, tilted his head and smiled. The kunai in his chest vanished, replaced by an unscathed surface.
"You..." the Anbu stammered, his breath catching.
"Is this the best Konoha's Anbu has to offer?" Naruto's voice was cold, and his eyes glowed ominously in the moonlight. "I expected more from someone brave enough to sneak into my home with murder on their mind."
The Anbu tried to dispel the illusion, his hands frantically forming seals, but it was futile. The oppressive weight of Naruto's chakra bore down on him, paralyzing his body.
"Goodnight," Naruto whispered.
A sharp pain erupted in the Anbu's chest. His own kunai, the one he'd wielded moments ago, was now embedded in his heart. His vision blurred as he crumpled to the ground, life fading rapidly.
Naruto leaned over the dying man, his expression unreadable. With a flick of his wrist, the vortex-like power of his right eye activated, absorbing both the Anbu's body and the bloodstains.
Standing amidst the eerie quiet, Naruto held the Anbu's cat mask in his hand. He studied it briefly before tucking it into his pocket.
"Messy," he muttered, glancing at the now-spotless tatami.
As he formed a series of hand seals, his body began to dissolve into thin air, leaving the empty apartment in silence once more.