The late afternoon sun bathed Konoha in a soft amber glow, casting long shadows over the bustling streets. Naruto's sandals scuffed the dirt path as he approached Ichiraku Ramen, the familiar wooden stall glowing like a beacon amidst the village's hum. The air carried the rich scent of simmering broth, mingling with the chatter of customers slipping in and out beneath the fluttering curtains.
"Finally," Naruto murmured, a grin tugging at his lips. He quickened his pace, ducking under the curtain with a burst of energy. "Uncle! One big bowl of tonkotsu ramen, extra everything!"
Teuchi, the ever-jovial owner, glanced up from his steaming pots, his weathered face breaking into a wide smile. "Naruto! Well, I'll be—thought you were off on some grand mission. Back already, huh?"
Naruto slid onto a stool as a departing customer vacated it, resting his elbows on the counter. "Yeah, mission took a detour. Ended up back here sooner than I planned."
Teuchi chuckled, deftly tossing noodles into a boiling pot. "Lucky me, then. I'll pile on the good stuff—call it a welcome-home treat!" With a flourish, he ladled broth, piled on pork, and sprinkled extra green onions, sliding the heaping bowl across to Naruto.
The steam hit Naruto's face, warm and fragrant, unlocking a flood of memories—late nights after training, quiet moments of solace, the taste of belonging when the village had shunned him. His eyes glistened, and he rubbed them quickly, masking the emotion with a ceremonial clap of his hands. "I'm digging in!"
He snapped the chopsticks apart and dove in, slurping noodles with abandon. The salty richness danced on his tongue, washing away the lingering ache of battles past and present—the Ōtsutsuki, Pain, the weight of lives he couldn't save in another timeline. For a moment, it was just him and the ramen, a simple comfort that anchored him.
Teuchi watched, his grin softening. "Not enough? Say the word—I'll cook you another batch."
Naruto nodded mid-bite, mumbling through a mouthful, "You're the best, Uncle." He wasn't about to turn down seconds—not from Teuchi, who'd been more than a ramen chef all these years. Since Naruto was a scrappy kid with empty pockets, Teuchi had slipped him free bowls, no questions asked. Later, at his wedding to Hinata, the old man had gifted him a lifetime ramen pass—a treasure Naruto still carried in his heart.
He tipped the bowl back, draining the last of the broth with a satisfied sigh. Leaning back, he patted his stomach, lost in the glow of nostalgia—until a familiar voice broke through.
"Uncle, tonkotsu ramen, please!"
Naruto's head snapped up. "Iruka-sensei!"
Iruka slid onto the stool beside him, his brown ponytail swinging as he flashed a warm smile. "Fancy meeting you here, Naruto. Weren't you off on a mission? Wait—hold on, what's with the waterworks?"
Naruto hadn't noticed the tears welling up again. Before he could stop himself, he lunged forward, wrapping Iruka in a tight hug. The memory hit hard—Iruka shielding him from death in that other life, a brotherly figure who'd never wavered. "It's nothing," he sniffled, pulling back with a shaky laugh. "Just missed you, is all. Been too long."
Iruka blinked, then chuckled, giving Naruto's shoulder a light punch. "You're a softie today, huh? What's going on? Spill it—something happen out there?"
Naruto waved him off, forcing a grin. "Nah, I'm good. Just feeling sappy, I guess."
Iruka took his bowl from Teuchi, snapping his chopsticks with a practiced flick. He slurped a noodle, eyeing Naruto curiously. "Sasuke giving you grief again?"
"Nope, not this time," Naruto said, leaning back on his hands. With Iruka, he could let his guard down—always had. The man had been his first real family, the one who'd seen him when no one else did. In that past life, Iruka had walked him down the aisle at his wedding, stepping in where Jiraiya couldn't. The thought tightened his throat, but he kept his smile steady.
Iruka chewed thoughtfully. "Then what's got you all misty-eyed? You're not usually this… mushy."
Naruto shrugged, his tone light. "Dunno. Just wanted to hug my favorite teacher. That a crime?"
Iruka laughed, shaking his head. "Not at all. Just don't make it a habit—I've got a reputation to keep!"
Their banter was cut short by a breathless shout. "Big Bro!" Konohamaru burst through the curtain, panting, with Udon and Moegi trailing behind, their faces flushed from running.
"Hey, Konohamaru!" Naruto slid off his stool, ruffling the kid's hair. "Udon, Moegi—good to see you guys too!"
Konohamaru beamed up at him, unbothered by the tousling. "Been looking everywhere for you, Bro! You're too fast!"
Naruto raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"
"Granny Tsunade wants you at the Hokage office, pronto," Konohamaru said, puffing out his chest like a proud messenger.
Naruto groaned, slumping dramatically. "Seriously? I just got here for a break!"
Iruka waved a chopstick at him, grinning. "Duty calls, kid. Hokage's orders—better hustle."
"Yeah, yeah," Naruto sighed, straightening up. "Catch you later, Iruka-sensei. Konohamaru, let's roll."
Konohamaru bounced after him as Naruto stepped back into the street, the warmth of the ramen shop fading behind him. He cast a glance over his shoulder, savoring the sight—Iruka slurping noodles, Teuchi bustling at the stove, the kids chattering. It was a piece of Konoha he'd fight to protect, a lifeline from his loneliest days. In that other life, Konohamaru had died for him, and Udon and Moegi had likely faced the same fate when the village fell. Not this time, he vowed silently. Not if he could help it.
Deep beneath Konoha, in the shadowed chambers of the Root headquarters, the air was still and cold. Danzo stood before a stone statue, his gnarled hand gripping his cane, his single visible eye narrowed in thought. Behind him, a figure in a dog-head mask knelt, his voice a low murmur as he delivered his report.
"The Nine Tails boy has returned to the village, Lord Danzo. He brought Jiraiya back with him."
Danzo's grip tightened, the wood creaking under his fingers. "Is that so?" His tone was measured, but a flicker of calculation gleamed in his gaze. Naruto's return—and Jiraiya's survival—shifted the board in ways he hadn't anticipated. The Jinchuriki was no longer just a volatile weapon; he was a player now, one Danzo couldn't ignore.
"Continue monitoring him," Danzo ordered, his voice cutting through the silence. "Every move, every contact. Report back without fail."
"Yes, sir," the Root agent replied, vanishing into the darkness with a faint rustle.
Danzo remained still, staring at the statue—a relic of Konoha's past, a reminder of sacrifices made and power seized. Naruto's strength was growing, his influence spreading. A child of prophecy, perhaps, as Jiraiya believed. But to Danzo, he was a variable—a threat or an asset, depending on how the pieces fell. For now, he'd watch. And when the time came, he'd act.
Naruto strode toward the Hokage office, Konohamaru at his heels, the taste of ramen still lingering on his tongue. The village buzzed around him, alive and whole—his to protect, his to cherish. Whatever Tsunade needed, he'd face it head-on. After all, he'd already rewritten one fate. What was one more challenge?
-----------
For Advance chapters visit : patreon.com/Oskin