An infant's daily life is a chaotic, humiliating, instinct-driven quagmire. Eat, sleep, excrete—a never-ending cycle, with the only respite being the routine, wary, brief "outings" with "Crow" or "Kite."
The route was always fixed: starting from the musty-smelling room, along the narrow alley with stained and scratched walls, always permeated with the scent of rotting vegetables and sewers, to the slightly more open but equally dusty small clearing at the end, then back.
Despair and coldness almost became the underlying tone of my Soul.
Until that day.
In the air, a dominant and warm aroma rudely cut through the usual decaying smell of the alley, like a sharp sword piercing through thick fog, precisely stabbing into my nostrils!
What was that?
Rich, strong, with the richness of fat and the sweet fragrance of grain starch, intertwined with the deep savory taste of some fermented sauce, and a hint of stimulating spiciness that was barely there...
Like an invisible hand, it instantly seized the most primitive hunger instinct of this infant's body, and also seized the long-lost yearning for "human warmth" that belonged to the adult deep within my Soul!
*Ramen!
This thought, like lightning, split through my consciousness! The steaming, rich, flavorful, and chewy noodles from my past life memories surged forth, perfectly coinciding with the deadly temptation now filling my nostrils!
My body reacted faster than my mind.
Saliva, like a floodgate opening, uncontrollably poured from the corners of my gaping mouth, instantly drenching the coarse cloth bib on my chest.
My small body, which had been dozing off in "Kite's" (it was her turn today) stiff embrace, suddenly stiffened as if injected with high-voltage electricity!
"Eeee—! Yah! Ah ah ah—!" It was no longer the usual bored whimpering, but a shrill shriek filled with urgency, longing, and almost madness! My tiny head desperately twisted towards the direction of the aroma—a small, unassuming shop with a warm curtain hanging at the alley corner.
On the warm curtain, a round, simple smiling face logo with a chef's hat stood out warmly against the dim background.
My hands, no longer flailing limply, but as if I had discovered a rare treasure, pointed with all my strength, clearly and unswervingly, towards the source of that deadly aroma—Ichiraku Ramen!
My short legs kicked desperately in "Kite's" arms, and the force of my leaning forward was so great that she stumbled, almost dropping me.
"Tsk! Behave!" "Kite" snapped, her arm tightening like an iron clamp, trying to force me back into position to continue towards the clearing.
Her impatience and disgust were almost overflowing on her face.
*No! Can't leave! That's the taste of Heaven! It's the only light in this damn infant life!
The instinct to survive instantly transformed into "infant stubbornness"!
"Waaah—! ! !" The accumulated grievance and longing, brought to their peak, turned into an earth-shattering wail, loud enough to shatter glass!
It wasn't a dry cry; it was a genuine flood of tears, snot streaming, my small face instantly turning purplish-red, my body writhing and arching like a fish out of water, a desperate posture of "I'll cry myself to death here if I don't get my way."
This commotion instantly drew the sidelong glances of the few scattered pedestrians in the alley, and the prying eyes in the shadows also showed a hint of astonishment.
"Kite's" body completely froze.
She clearly hadn't expected my reaction to be so intense.
In her cold, task-oriented gaze, a rare crack appeared—pure frustration and helplessness.
Holding an infant who was wildly thrashing and crying hysterically in her arms, and attracting the attention of passersby, clearly pushed her out of her comfort zone as a "monitor."
"...Trouble!" She cursed under her breath, almost gritting her teeth, her footsteps abruptly stopping.
Then, with extreme reluctance, and a stiff, forced compliance, she turned and walked towards the small shop with the warm curtain, still holding me, who was "wailing."
*Victory!
My crying instantly dropped eight octaves, turning into a wronged sob, but my small finger still stubbornly pointed towards the approaching warm curtain.
Pushing aside the warm curtain, a rich, almost impossibly warm aroma, like a physical entity, wafted over me, instantly enveloping my whole body.
The small shop, narrow enough only for a few benches and a counter, was exceptionally clean and bright.
Behind the counter, a kindly-looking uncle with a white bandana, a simple smile, and eyes narrowed into slits, was deftly wielding long chopsticks, stirring noodles in a steaming pot.
It was Teuchi!
Seeing "Kite" enter with a sniffling, red-faced, tear-and-snot-covered infant, Teuchi was momentarily stunned, then a smile even warmer and more genuine than the sign on the warm curtain bloomed on his face.
"Oh my, what's wrong with this little fellow? Crying so sadly?" His voice was loud and clear, with a natural friendliness that instantly dispelled the cold aura brought by "Kite."
"Kite" was expressionless, stiffly uttering two words: "Passing by. He's making a fuss."
"Oh? Did he smell the aroma?" Teuchi smiled, looking at me, still sniffling but with blue eyes fixed on the soup pot, the longing in them almost palpable.
He laughed heartily, "Haha, looks like a discerning little one! Don't cry, don't cry, Uncle here has good stuff!"
He put down his long chopsticks, quickly scooped up a few extremely soft noodles from a nearby small pot, rinsed off the excess salty broth with clear water, then carefully picked up a short strand with his chopsticks, blew on it repeatedly to ensure the temperature was just right, and then offered it to my mouth.
"Here, little one, want to try? Uncle's special 'baby-friendly version'!"
That trembling noodle, exuding the pure scent of wheat and a faint savory hint of broth, was within reach.
I opened my mouth without hesitation, like a chick waiting to be fed, and bit into it!
My taste buds exploded the moment they made contact!
Soft, smooth, with the original sweetness of grains, mixed with the rich umami condensed from bone broth—though bland, it was a delicious thunderclap that pierced the darkness of this infant's diet, filled with milky smells and humiliation!
The adult imprisoned deep within my Soul almost shed tears of emotion.
All traces of grievance on my face vanished instantly, replaced by a pure, almost sacred sense of happiness!
My big blue eyes widened, as if stars sparkled within them, and my small mouth smacked and chewed the soft noodles with gusto, making contented grunting sounds, while an uncontrollable, huge, slobbery, food-stained, unreserved silly grin spread across my face.
My entire small body radiated a light of "no regrets in this life."
"Pfft!" Teuchi was thoroughly amused by my appearance, his eyes narrowing even more, "Oh my, looks like you really like it! Eat slowly, eat slowly!"
"Kite" stood beside me, watching my completely transformed behavior, then looking at Teuchi's heartfelt smile.
For the first time, a crack named "bewilderment" appeared on her cold face.
She probably couldn't understand how a bowl of noodles could instantly turn a "Jinchuriki" from a crying mess in Hell into an angel of Heaven.
*Ramen! The GOAT!* My heart screamed wildly. *Food ticket! This is a long-term food ticket! Must secure it!*
So, I pulled out all the stops.
Every time Teuchi looked over, I immediately offered my brightest, most innocent, and most drool-filled smile, nodding my little head like a pecking chick, and desperately patting "Kite's" arm, pointing at that magical big pot: "Ah! Noodles! Noodles!"
"Kite's" resistance crumbled under the dual assault of the Ramen and my "unrelenting infant stubbornness."
Coupled with Teuchi's overwhelming enthusiasm: "Oh my, big sister, if the child likes it, come often! It's just a bowl of noodles! Look how cute this little one is!"
Finally, a crack named "resignation" appeared on "Kite's" perpetually icy face.
From then on, Ichiraku Ramen became the only fixed and shining landmark in my dim infancy.
Sitting on "Kite's" stiff lap, placed on the corner bench, with a small bowl of specially made, almost mushy "baby version" Ramen in front of me.
I wielded the clumsy little wooden spoon (thoughtfully provided by Teuchi), smearing the mush all over my face and body, making contented, meaningless "smacking" sounds and "eeyah eeyah" self-talk, a perfect little fool immersed in delicious food, oblivious to the world.
However, beneath this perfect, drool-covered disguise, my ears, like the highest precision radar, had already silently activated completely.
Though small, the shop was a microcosm of the Konoha ecosystem.
Ninja, civilians, tired figures returning from missions, neighborhood women chatting...
Their conversations, mingled with the aroma of Ramen and the gurgling of the soup pot, continuously flowed into my ears.
"...This C-rank mission was such a rip-off! Escorting a merchant for three days through the mountains, and the reward was so little, not even enough to repair my Ninja tools! And the captain is stingy, refusing to apply for a subsidy..." A dusty young Chunin, slurping noodles, complained to his companion, his voice low but every word clear.
*(Inner OS: Low C-rank mission reward? Ninja's financial situation generally tight? Mission grading and reward system... Note it down, note it down!)*
"...Did you hear? That Genius from the Uchiha Clan, he's only four and already sent to the Ninja Academy? What a monster..." Two men dressed as civilians whispered in a corner.
*(Uchiha Itachi? Four years old enrolling? Looks like the timeline matches... The Uchiha Clan's Genius aura and subtle isolation... Important intelligence!)*
"...The funding for rebuilding the South District is stuck at the Hokage's office again, saying there aren't enough funds! But I see those big Family compounds being built so grandly!" A middle-aged man who looked like a craftsman gulped down some noodle soup, his tone resentful.
*(Reconstruction stalled, uneven fund distribution, Family politics... Tsk, Konoha's internal conflicts are deeper than I imagined. The Old Monkey (Hokage) is indeed under a lot of pressure.)*
"...Anbu patrols seem to have increased recently? Especially near the orphanage..." A voice even softer, almost drowned out by the boiling of the soup pot.
*(Orphanage? Anbu deployment? Is it to guard against me? Or something else? Need to pay attention...)*
I "clumsily" scooped up a dollop of noodle mush with the wooden spoon, tremblingly brought it to my mouth, smearing half my face, and let out a satisfied "aww" sound.
My big blue eyes stared blankly at the rising steam, as if completely captivated by the food, oblivious to everything around me.
Teuchi chuckled as he wiped the noodle mush from my face: "Eat slowly, little one! There's plenty!"
"Kite" sat beside me, her posture stiff, like a silent guardian statue, her gaze vigilantly sweeping the shop, indifferent to the idle chatter of the customers.
She was only responsible for the physical safety of the "container"; what the "container" heard was not within her purview.
*Perfect!*
Under the warm yellow light, the steam from the Ramen billowed, blurring the surrounding outlines, and also blurring the cold sharpness that flashed in my eyes, completely unbefitting my age.
I lowered my head, burying my face in the fragrant small bowl, greedily inhaling the scent of human warmth.
Long live Ramen!
The motivation to live!
And... the best intelligence station!
The small wooden spoon stirred in the noodle mush, and in this warm steam, an invisible net silently spread.