We didn't immediately find a restaurant ready to serve yet.
The day was too early for most of Konoha's establishments to be open and ready for business. We wandered through the quieter streets, past shuttered shops and half-awake vendors just beginning to set up their stalls.
The village had a different personality at this hour. Softer, more honest somehow, without the usual bustle of commerce and duty that defined its daylight hours.
I used the walk to gauge Guy-sensei's approach to this whole surveillance thing. He was being unusually subtle about it, which was saying something considering this was a man who normally announced his presence from three blocks away.
But he was still a renowned jounin with decades of experience and considerable pride in his craft. The moment he realized I'd caught onto his surveillance role, he smoothly pivoted away from the clumsy hints and settled into more familiar territory.
We spent the rest of our walk discussing training regimens, the benefits of weighted exercises, and his latest theories on maximizing taijutsu efficiency through proper breathing techniques. It was almost refreshing, really, getting back to the straightforward dynamic we'd always shared rather than dancing around political subterfuge.
Eventually, we made it to the one place I knew would be open. Ichiraku Ramen.
I wasn't particularly fond of ramen, especially not as breakfast, but it had been a while since I'd visited this little slice of village institution. Plus, the annoying old man running the place was annoyingly dedicated to his craft. First to open, last to close, rain or shine.
Guy-sensei pushed through the noren curtains with his usual gusto. "Teuchi-san! What a glorious morning to fuel the fires of youth with your magnificent cooking! My friend here has graciously offered to treat me!"
I followed behind with considerably less enthusiasm. "Yeah, well, seeing as I haven't been paid for my last mission yet, please show some mercy on my wallet."
Teuchi looked up from wiping down his counter. "Guy-san! Always a pleasure," a smile creasing his weathered features as he spotted Guy. But then his eyes found me, and that smile twitched. His greeting turned noticeably cooler. "And... you."
I smiled back with deliberate charm. "And me."
But Teuchi wasn't the only one giving me a lukewarm reception. Two others sat at the far end of the counter, eating in silence. Shinobi, I noted from their gear and tactical vests. With night duty, I inferred from their exhaustion.
The moment they noticed me, their chopsticks froze halfway to their mouths. They exchanged a meaningful glance, then abruptly stood, dropped some coins on the counter, and left without finishing their meals.
I frowned, not quite sure how to process this sudden notoriety. They, too, clearly don't either.
I'd been getting stares and whispers all morning from both shinobi and civilians alike. On one hand, It didn't particularly bother me; I'd dealt with worse reactions than awkward silence and hastily averted gazes. But on the other hand, a shinobi with this level of public attention would find certain aspects of the job significantly more challenging.
And that was excluding the political complications and general ease-of-living issues this kind of fame would bring. Village politics were delicate enough without having every mission potentially compromised by my face being too recognizable.
I'd known that killing a Kage wouldn't stay secret for long, but this seemed remarkably fast. I hadn't even filed my official report yet, for fuck's sake.
And the Hokage hadn't made any public statements either.
And that was the real issue, wasn't it? The supreme leader hadn't confirmed or denied anything, hadn't positioned himself for or against. This left most people uncertain how to react when the village's leadership hadn't provided direction yet.
They didn't know how to act around me, but that was just a question of time. They would form opinions soon enough. Opinions that might not align with whatever official stance Minato eventually took.
And that was the goal behind it.
Danzo... I wondered if this was the old bastard's way of getting back at me for rejecting his subtle recruitment attempts before. Forcing my hand by making me too visible to ignore, too notorious to use quietly.
I know he was that petty. There was no debating that. But perhaps there was more to this scheme than just making life harder.
Guy-sensei's hand—more of a controlled slap, really—landed on my back with enough force to rattle my teeth. He flashed me that brilliant smile of his. "Pay them no mind, Eishin….. the opinions of others matter little when one's heart burns with righteous purpose!" He guided me to the front counter stools with gentle but insistent pressure.
Teuchi watched the departing customers, pocketed their money, and then turned his attention to Guy as we sat down. "What can I get started for you this morning, Guy-san?" His tone was perfectly polite—and completely ignored my existence.
"Ouch, Teuchi-san." I pouted at the old man with exaggerated hurt. "That's pretty cold treatment for such a loyal customer. Here I was, looking forward to your excellent cooking after being away on a mission, and this is the welcome I get?"
"Perhaps," The old man said, voice still cheery but tight-stitched like a net trying to strangle a shark, and a smile that could have frozen soup. "You'd be more comfortable at one of the other establishments that cater to... your type of clientele."
Well, that's mean and rather insulting. I haven't been to a red light district since forever.
Guy-sensei's uncaring for my plight, or rather… he was finding joy in it! He laughed; his voice boomed through the small space. "Ah, Eishin! It seems your reputation precedes you even into the realm of noodles!"
No, wait… was this bullying? It is, isn't it? I'm getting bullied!
That's when salvation arrived in the form of an angel. "What's all this commotion out here?" Ayame emerged from the back kitchen, drying her hands on a towel, her voice carrying that musical quality that made even mundane questions sound pleasant. "Oh, Eishin-san! You're here." She beamed.
"Ahh, my saviour!" My smile widened instantly, and I turned on every ounce of charm I possessed. "Ayame-chan, what would I do without you? Honestly, it'd be a crime for this place to open without you at the front."
Her smile turned shy, color rising in her cheeks as she tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. "Don't say things like that, Eishin-san. Father was just—"
"Teaching patience," Teuchi cut in smoothly, his smile still in place though his grip on his cleaning rag had tightened considerably. "Something certain people clearly haven't learned yet."
Guy-senei thought it best time to intervene to fuel the fire. His laughter filled the space again. "Ah, the eternal struggle of youth! The heart seeks what it desires, while wisdom counsels restraint!"
I ignored both of them. Turnabout being fair play and all. I focused entirely on Ayame, who had moved closer to the counter. The wooden surface between us might as well have been a mile wide for all the good it did as a barrier. I met her eyes directly, letting my voice drop.
"Can I truly be blamed? I found patience often leaving me, Ayame-chan, but only ever when you're close by. I wonder why that is….."
Ayame's lips softened, parted, she wasn't quite fleeing, rather leaned forward slightly, drawn in despite herself. Her brown eyes were warm and honest, showing every emotion without filter or pretense.
She was the epitome of the girl-next-door. Unpretentious beauty that didn't know its own power. Her work kimono was simple, but it couldn't hide the gentle curves underneath or the way steam from the kitchen had left a subtle flush across her skin.
She was more of a hidden gem than even Shiho had been. Where my shy little nerd had hidden behind books and research, Ayame's appeal was more fundamental, more... accessible. She didn't flee from eye contact, even when blushing, which suggested a core of steel beneath all that sweetness.
It was a pity that, unlike with Shiho, I'd never found the opportunity to properly appreciate what she had to offer. A gentleman's tragedy, really.
The heavy sound of ceramic hitting wood broke the moment.
"Eat." Teuchi slammed a bowl of ramen down in front of me, his smile stretched to dangerous limits. "Before it gets cold."
I looked down at the bowl. Cold. Half-eaten. One of the bowls the departing shinobi had abandoned in their haste to escape my toxic presence.
"I see…" I lifted the chopsticks that came with someone else's leftovers. "Cold takeout from nervous customers? This is the service I get?"
Teuchi's smile stayed the same, but it felt like it stretched wider; his eyes said exactly what his mouth wouldn't. If you don't like it, there's the door.
Whatever happened to that gentle old man who'd feed an orphan everyone else hated?
But if the old bastard thought this petty treatment would discourage me, he was sorely mistaken.
I grabbed a fresh pair of chopsticks with renewed determination. "This was probably made by Ayame anyway. Which means it's good no matter what. It would be a crime not to appreciate her work."
I split the chopsticks and bowed my head slightly. "Thanks for the food."
The bowl vanished before I could touch it.
"Ara, Father," Ayame chided softly, brows knitting together as she set the bowl aside. "You can't just serve leftovers. Honestly." Then she turned that apologetic smile on me. It made me feel like the bastard I was didn't deserve it at all. "I'll make you something fresh, Eishin-san. Please, don't mind my father."
"How could I," I said. "When it's done with your hands? Cold or hot—it's the thought behind it that counts."
"You too, Eishin-san, you should stop," She said with a small scolding frown. "It makes father angry."
I raised both hands. "I'll try. But don't hold me to it. Hard to promise when you're the one to blame—" I tilted my head, eyes catching hers again, "—your smile makes me forget myself."
Her giggle was soft, musical. Behind her, Teuchi's huff sounded like steam escaping a pressure cooker. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture unconsciously graceful. "What can I get started for you? Something... appropriate for breakfast?"
"Anything," I said, "as long as you're the one who makes it."
The blush deepened. She nodded with enthusiasm, a little flustered cadence creeping into her words. "O-of course! I'll put extra care into it."
"She means the ramen, brat," Teuchi grumbled from behind the stove. "Don't get ideas."
"Oh," I chuckled low in my throat, eyes still on Ayame. "I've already got plenty of ideas…"
"Eishin-san!" Ayame's voice pitched higher, caught between rolling her eyes and blushing furiously.
I winked at her. She sighed, lips pressing into a thin line of half-rebellion, and scampered toward the kitchen. "I'll be back soon with your order!" she said quickly, snagging her father by the sleeve to drag him into the back before he decided to leap over the counter and strangle me. Which, judging by his twitching cheek, he'd been two seconds away from.
Once they disappeared behind the curtain, Guy-sensei turned to me with that subdued smile he wore when he wasn't performing for an audience. "You really do know how to warm people up, don't you? There's a gift there, Eishin."
The corner of my eye twitched. Was this guy blind or something? Did he see what just happened? Teuchi hadn't been warming; he'd been one heartbeat from skewering me with his kitchen knife.
"You're giving me way too much credit," I said.
"Perhaps," Guy said, his smile turning thoughtful, "but sometimes a person misses things about themselves that only someone with different eyes can see. You bring out responses in people, whether you realize it or not."
"Then your eyes need a prescription check."
"My eyes? My eyes are perfect! I will have you know. The sharpest in Konoha! Nay—in the world! Twenty-ten vision in both eyes, and my third eye of perception sees beyond the physical realm into the very essence of youth!"
"Yes, yes," I said flatly, watching him gesture wildly. "Your ocular prowess knows no bounds. It's not worth arguing. I'd be a fool to."
The short awkwardness broke with his laughter, and he reached for the cup of water that had been placed quietly in front of him. Mine, I realized sourly, was conspicuously absent. Teuchi's little vendetta had extended as far as hydration. Bastard.
Guy-sensei took a sip, then set the cup down. His eyes turned curious. "Tell me, Eishin. Those Chakra training cards of yours—do you plan to spread them, as with your civilian sealing scrolls?"
I shook my head. "Way more complex to produce. The profit margins don't justify the time investment, not when I can make ten civilian scrolls in the time it takes to craft one training card. Economics of scale, you know? It's simply not worth it."
"Hmm." Guy stroked his chin thoughtfully. "An old man once told me that underestimating oneself is as dangerous as overestimating. Both lead to missed opportunities."
"That was me," I deadpanned.
"Hmm?" He tilted his head. "Yes, it is. You keep underestimating yourself. And keep missing the most—"
"No," I cut him off. "I'm the one who fucking told you that," I clarified, stabbing the air with my chopsticks. "Not some mysterious sage on a mountaintop. Me."
Guy-sensei squinted, unconvinced, then the outrageous bastard waved it off with a laugh. "Be that as it may, you may not see it, but your inventions ripple outward. The village will benefit greatly from your ingenuity if you but believe in it."
A vein in my forehead twitched. I sighed in exasperation. "Guy, none of this stuff is particularly ingenious. The Hokage could probably replicate any of it given enough time. Hell, his wife definitely could—sealing is her specialty."
"The Hokage and his wife," Guy-sensei repeated slowly, then smiled. "You should listen to yourself sometimes." He paused, then his expression shifted to something more practical. "Actually, speaking of business opportunities, you should visit Tenten's weapon shop when you get a chance. She specializes in sealing storage for weapons. You may find her help useful. And she may learn much from you. Tell her her great teacher sent you."
I nodded slowly, though the motion stuck in my throat. I didn't like that. Not the suggestion—Guy-sensei was right, Tenten's shop had use—but the introduction.
Tenten was on the list. Just like Ino, and Sakura, and eventually Hinata. She was catnip for my kind of wandering charm. But having Guy put me there? Arranging the encounter? Made the whole idea sticky. Like sweat under armor.
I trusted and respected Guy-sensei. The last thing I wanted was to drag my baser instincts into that relationship.
"I'll drop by and see what she's got."
Still, I'd need to visit anyway. Business was business, and if her shop could help distribute the sealing scrolls, it was worth exploring. Just... maybe I'd find a way to make that introduction on my own terms.
— — — — — — — —
You can read up to 8 chapters ahead at patreon.com/vizem