Naruto Uzumaki

Watching the little one lingering in front of Ichiraku Ramen, Arata felt that if he chose to look away again, it would be somewhat unjustifiable.

"Sister Izumi, why don't we try this ramen shop?"

He stopped and suggested.

Arata was not particularly picky about food; in fact, when he was younger, he had relied solely on military rations to recover his chakra quickly during training.

Those pills, designed purely for recovery efficiency, had flavor placed at the very bottom of their priorities.

"Alright."

Izumi Uchiha saw through the boy's intentions and did not refuse.

After all, the little one before them, known as the Nine-Tails, was an orphan just like Arata.

However, before they could even get close, Naruto Uzumaki immediately adopted a defensive posture, his previously longing and yearning gaze turning icy cold in an instant.

Heaven knows what kind of ostracization he had endured over these long years.

Even though he and Sister Izumi were technically of the same generation.

"Do you want to eat together?"

Arata was truly a social failure.

He completely ignored the little Nine-Tails' hostile expression and cut straight to the point.

"Heh."

Hearing this, Naruto Uzumaki did not answer; instead, he let out a sneer of utter disdain and shifted his body slightly backward.

Such a childish "trap"—he would absolutely, absolutely not fall for it again!

Besides, he recognized that fan-like clan crest.

Those guys who patrolled everywhere all day might not mock him like the common folk, but the way they looked at him was no different from anyone else.

"We mean no harm."

Izumi Uchiha gave the boy beside her a subtle tug; with his constant icy demeanor, it would be a miracle if he could win anyone's trust.

Yet, despite the invitation from this beautiful older sister, Naruto Uzumaki remained resistant and made a move to turn and run away.

"In this world, the only person who is truly kind to me is that white-haired old man!"

"Everyone else is the same!"

Watching the little one's movements, Izumi immediately wanted to say something more, but Arata acted faster than her: "Boss, three bowls of tonkotsu chashu ramen."

Compared to pale words, actions were the best proof.

Moreover, he and Izumi had no obligation, nor could they be too deliberate in their contact with the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki.

Aside from the clan compounds, the entire Hidden Leaf Village was under the surveillance of the Anbu and Root.

Allowing an Uchiha with a Sharingan to approach the little Nine-Tails was practically touching the reverse scale of the Hidden Leaf's high command.

"Coming right up."

Teuchi, inside the ramen stall, responded immediately.

He had always been concerned about the little blond boy in his line of sight, but every time he called out for the little guy to come have a bowl of ramen, the child would always scurry away in a flash.

Now that there were finally some kind-hearted people.

Teuchi glanced at the two young Uchiha once more before turning around to get busy.

People from that clan rarely came to his stall.

"Let's head over, Sister Izumi."

With that, Arata walked toward the stall first.

As he drew near, the aroma of the broth hit him head-on; it was no wonder the little Nine-Tails always lingered here.

For a child, such a scent was irresistible.

Watching Arata's actions, a complex look flickered in Izumi's eyes.

She seemed to have underestimated this younger clansman; although he was severely lacking in his attitude toward people and situations, he always seemed able to see the crux of the problem.

"Arata is becoming more and more like Itachi."

"But is this really a good thing?"

Gazing at Arata's back, Izumi seemed to see Itachi's silhouette, but the two images overlapped briefly before separating again.

The same, yet different.

"Well, I am the older sister. If I can't manage Itachi, surely I can manage you, right?"

The girl clenched her small fist, and a smile reappeared on her face.

Even though the two strange older siblings had shown kindness one after another, Naruto Uzumaki still did not follow them.

Ichiraku Ramen—he wanted to eat it so badly!

Although he had only tasted it once, that alluring flavor could not be erased from his memory no matter how he tried.

He wanted to eat it.

He really wanted to eat it!

Naruto Uzumaki stared blankly at the ramen stand; even though his little belly was already rumbling like a drum, he ultimately did not move his feet.

He was accustomed to being driven away, excluded, and deceived; he was not yet able to adapt to the kindness of others.

Especially this kind of kindness that he could not distinguish.

But just as Naruto was preparing to leave, his gaze inadvertently caught the movements of that unfamiliar older brother.

The first bowl of ramen was pushed to the far left, two or three seats away from him.

Is he leaving a safe distance for himself?

The little Nine-Tails hesitated.

The warm bone broth flowed slowly down his esophagus into his stomach, a perfect match for this season of lingering winter chill.

In that very instant, Arata wanted to sell off all the military rations stockpiled at home for a pittance!

The difference in taste between the two was like heaven and earth.

However, such a thought only lasted for a short while.

The utility provided by military rations could not be compared to ordinary food; beyond satiating hunger, they could also restore a certain amount of chakra.

Delicious food like Ichiraku Ramen was fine to taste once, but constantly dwelling on it would affect his training.

Not long after Arata and Izumi began eating, the chair at the far left of the counter suddenly moved. The standard-issue seat seemed a bit difficult for the newcomer, who struggled a bit before climbing up, followed immediately by the sound of impatient slurping and a cough caused by eating too fast.

The scene froze in place.

Three boys and girls of similar age ate their ramen quietly, without a single exchange.

Quiet and peaceful.

Other customers came by during this time, but upon seeing the only remaining seats and the ravenous little Nine-Tails, they would curse their bad luck and turn away.

But this time, Naruto Uzumaki did not fiercely retort like a bristling cat; he merely paused for a moment before continuing to shovel the ramen into his mouth.

It was just that, Boss, why is this broth a bit salty?

"Here."

After putting down his chopsticks, Arata pulled a ten-thousand-ryo banknote from his pocket.

He only used the money Yashiro gave him on weekdays to buy military rations, so he had a large balance saved up.

"Young man, do you have any smaller change?"

Teuchi, having taken the banknote, looked stunned.

He knew the Uchiha were wealthy, but this was just a bowl of ramen; there was no need to start with a ten-thousand-ryo note. This was a rhythm that would empty his cash drawer!

"Keep the change."

"When we come back in the future, just deduct it from that."

Arata, having stood up, deliberately emphasized the word "we," which Teuchi's emotional intelligence would surely allow him to understand.

This was all he could do for the little Nine-Tails.

Any further contact, and the Anbu hidden in the street corners would likely be unable to restrain themselves.

"I understand."

Teuchi nodded gently. The Uchiha had their own commercial district and rarely came here to eat, so the remaining balance would naturally be left for Naruto.

"Thank you for your patronage."

Without greeting the little Nine-Tails, Arata and Izumi lifted the curtain of the ramen stand and headed toward the clan grounds.

But just then—

"Hey, your name, what is your name?"

The ravenous little Naruto had stood up at some point, soup stains still lingering on the corners of his mouth, his eyes still red.

Hearing this, Arata Uchiha halted his steps, his expression as indifferent as ever: "When asking for someone else's name, shouldn't you report your own first?"

The little Nine-Tails froze. After a moment, he came to his senses, wiped his eyes fiercely with his sleeve, and shouted back:

"My name is Naruto."

"Naruto Uzumaki!"