Iruka-sensei, Thank You

The door to the Hokage's office closed behind him, with Zetsu shutting out the suffocating smell of tobacco.

Naruto did not pause for even a moment.

Avoiding the scattered pedestrians on the early-morning streets, he headed straight for Training Ground Seven.

The faint morning light filtered through the leaves, casting Madara-patterned shadows across him.

He stopped before the wooden post he had destroyed with his own hands.

Splintered wood curled outward, while deep fist marks covered the post like ugly scars.

[Assessment initiated.]

[Last night's power output exceeded the standard threshold by 37%.]

[Cause: emotional energy infusion triggered an uncontrolled chakra eruption.]

[Conclusion: emotions are a weakness and must be subjected to stricter control training.]

He reached out, slipping his fingertips into the deepest dent and feeling the grain of the wood fibers violently torn apart.

Heavy, hurried footsteps approached from behind.

They were accompanied by the rustling of overburdened plastic bags.

Naruto did not turn around.

From the familiar force of those footsteps alone, he had already identified the newcomer.

Iruka.

"Naruto!"

Iruka was panting heavily, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he forced out what he thought was a casual smile.

He raised the two large bags in his hands. The cup noodles and potato chips inside clattered together crisply.

"I... I passed by the store and thought you might be hungry."

Even to Iruka himself, the excuse sounded stiff and clumsy.

Naruto's brain automatically analyzed the other man's physiological data.

Iruka.

[Heart rate slightly elevated. Microvascular ruptures in the eyes indicate sleep deprivation exceeding eighteen hours... Overall assessment: extreme anxiety and mental exhaustion.]

"To celebrate you passing the test and officially becoming a ninja."

Iruka added another sentence.

"Let's go to Ichiraku Ramen. My treat."

Naruto slowly turned around.

[Objective: provide emotional reassurance and attempt to return my behavioral patterns to the comprehensible category of "normal."]

[Potential risk: exposing further "abnormal" traits and worsening his anxiety.]

[Potential benefit: assess Iruka-sensei's psychological resilience and stabilize his mental state as necessary.]

"Okay."

The single word left his mouth.

There was no excess emotion in it, yet Iruka visibly relaxed.

The two walked one behind the other through the village streets as they gradually came alive.

Iruka kept searching for topics, moving from the weather to maintaining ninja tools. Every subject was dry enough to crumble.

Naruto answered everything with only "Mm," "Yes," or "Understood" as Quan's complete response.

His senses had long since spread out like an invisible spiderweb, covering a three-hundred-meter radius around him.

Conversations carried on the wind.

The chirping of sparrows atop roof tiles.

The subdued complaints of the proprietress of a tofu shop one hundred and twenty meters away.

All the data converged in his mind, forming a constantly updating three-dimensional map.

In that other world, his chakra had been regarded as a psychic ability, and he had received systematic training in the Court of Starwhispers.

The curtain of Ichiraku Ramen was lifted, and the rich aroma of tonkotsu broth rushed over them.

"Welcome! Oh, Iruka-sensei and Naruto!"

Teuchi greeted them warmly. His daughter, Ayame, poked her head out as well and waved with a smile.

"Old man, one extra-large chashu miso ramen. Double meat, triple noodles."

Naruto ordered with practiced ease.

The amount made both Teuchi and Ayame freeze for a moment, but Iruka's taut nerves inexplicably loosened a little.

He got hungry. He still loved to eat. This was still the Naruto he knew.

The steaming ramen soon arrived. The mountain-like heap of chashu made Iruka's eye twitch.

Naruto picked up his chopsticks and began eating with nearly mechanical precision.

There was no expression of enjoyment, no satisfied sigh.

Only efficient, steady chewing and swallowing.

"Naruto, what... are you planning to do next?"

Iruka spoke carefully, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"The village will assign you a jonin instructor and teammates soon."

"I'll follow the arrangements."

Naruto replied without taking Quan's attention from the bowl in front of him.

"Teammates are important. They're companions you can entrust your back to, bonds..."

Iruka went on and on about his understanding of the Will of Fire.

But Naruto saw a different scene entirely.

He appeared to be eating with his head lowered, but his ice-blue eyes were using the smooth inner surface of the ramen bowl to catch an insignificant reflection.

On the roof of a teahouse across the street.

The light there was distorted ever so slightly.

[Three targets locked.]

[Position: southeast, elevation thirty degrees, distance forty-two meters.]

[Formation: standard triangular surveillance positions.]

[Physiological indicators: breathing severely suppressed; heartbeats forcibly slowed by chakra. Abnormal human state.]

Naruto picked up a slice of bamboo shoot. Broth dripped from it, sending ripples across the bowl.

The masks bore fiercer patterns. They might be ANBU, but Root was the more likely possibility.

Was Danzo monitoring me, or making preliminary preparations to reclaim the jinchuriki?

"...So no matter what happens, never abandon your companions, Naruto. That is Konoha's most precious thing."

There was a hint of pleading in Iruka's voice.

Naruto suddenly stopped moving.

"Iruka-sensei."

He spoke, interrupting him.

"You're holding your chopsticks backward."

"Huh?"

Iruka froze and looked down at his hands.

Sure enough, Quan had completely reversed the thick and thin ends of the chopsticks without noticing.

Embarrassed heat crept up his cheeks.

He hurriedly tried to adjust them.

The instant he lowered his head, Quan's attention fully absorbed by the wooden chopsticks in his hands—

Naruto moved.

His right wrist gave the faintest flick at an imperceptible angle.

His chopsticks picked up a slice of chashu soaked in broth.

There was no sound of wind.

No whistle through the air.

The thick slice of chashu seemed to come alive, tracing an arc too swift for the naked eye to catch as it crossed the noisy street and the passing crowds.

"Plop."

A soft, almost inaudible sticking sound.

Beneath the shadows of the teahouse roof across the street, directly below the commander's position, the glossy slice of chashu stuck squarely to the wall.

Like an abrupt mark filled with mockery.

Within the shadows on the roof, a Root ninja's hand signal changed instantly from "surveillance" to "level-one alert."

Icy killing intent passed through the steam of the ramen and the roar of the crowd, while Mū silently locked onto the blond boy eating with his head lowered.

Iruka finally adjusted his chopsticks. He awkwardly lifted his head, utterly unaware of what Quan had just happened.

All he saw was Naruto finishing the last bite of noodles and setting down his bowl.

Not a single drop of broth remained in it.

Naruto picked up a napkin and leisurely wiped his mouth.

Then he looked at Iruka, his expression calm and still.

"I'm full."

He paused.

"Iruka-sensei, thank you for always looking after me."