"This bowl of ramen is too perfect." Naruto pointed at the noodles. "The noodles have just the right amount of chew. The ratio of fat to lean in the pork is textbook—exactly fifty-fifty. The soup's saltiness is precise down to the milligram. And the narutomaki's thickness—did you measure it with calipers?"
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"Of course not!" Naruto slapped the table. "This isn't Ichiraku Ramen at all!"
He stood up and pointed at the illusion of Uncle Teuchi.
"When the real Uncle Teuchi kneads the dough, his back sometimes aches because he's getting old, so the noodles come out a little softer that day! He cuts the pork by feel. Sometimes the slices are thick, sometimes thin. It's like opening a mystery box—that's what makes it fun!"
"And when Ayame is at the shop, Uncle Teuchi's in a good mood, so the soup's a little saltier because he adds an extra spoonful of soy sauce! But if Ayame goes out on a date with someone else, he gets upset, and the soup that day is as watery as plain water!"
"Ramen isn't a pile of perfect data! It's made by people! It has feelings! Its flavor changes for all sorts of messy reasons! You're a... a..." Naruto scratched his head, thinking hard. "You're a ramen idiot!"
Everything in the illusion came to a halt.
The smiles froze on the villagers' faces.
Minato and Kushina's figures froze, too.
"I don't understand." Jin's voice was filled with a bewilderment he had never shown before. "I created a world without a single flaw, and you're rejecting it over the 'flaws' in a bowl of ramen? That makes no logical sense."
"Logic?" Naruto laughed, his grin as bright as a fool's. "I don't know anything about logic!"
He pointed at the perfect