The steam rising from the bowl of miso pork ramen was the most beautiful thing Naruto had ever seen.
Condensed beads of oil glistened on the surface of the broth, swirling around the naruto fish cake like tiny, savory planets.
"Another round!" Naruto shouted, slamming the empty ceramic bowl onto the counter with a satisfied clatter. "And make it a double chashu this time, old man!"
Teuchi, laughed as he threw a bundle of fresh noodles into the boiling water. A billow of white steam rolled over the counter, carrying the heavy, humid scent of pork bones that had been simmering for forty-eight hours straight.
The shop was small, warm, and smelled like savory heaven—a stark contrast to the antiseptic stench of the hospital they had just left. Here, the air was sticky and loud, vibrating with the slurp-slurp of hungry customers and the rhythmic thud-thud of a knife against a wooden cutting board.
Next to Naruto, Jiraiya was nursing a small cup of sake, looking surprisingly at home on the cheap stool. The wood creaked under his bulk, and the worn fabric of his haori brushed against the grease-stained counter with a soft swish.
"You haven't changed the broth recipe in twenty years, Teuchi," Jiraiya noted, swirling the clear liquid in his cup. "Still has that kick of ginger."
Teuchi grinned, wiping his hands on his apron. "And you haven't changed your hairstyle in thirty, Jiraiya-sama. Though I see you've added a few more lines around the eyes."
The overhead lantern flickered, casting the deep grooves of Jiraiya's face into sudden, sharp relief before softening again.
"Character lines," Jiraiya corrected, winking. "The ladies love distinguished experience."
Ayame, rolled her eyes as she sliced the pork, but she was smiling. It was weird, Naruto thought, seeing the legendary Toad Sage just hanging out like a regular customer.
"Hey! Boss!"
A high-pitched voice cut through the street noise behind them.
The dry drone of cicadas in the summer heat cut out for a split second, overpowered by the shrill call.
Naruto spun around on his stool, noodles dangling from his mouth. Walking down the street was the Konohamaru Corps—Konohamaru, Moegi with her pigtails, and Udon wiping his nose. Trailing behind them, looking stiff and miserable in the midday heat, was the closet pervert himself, Ebisu-sensei.
He smelled faintly of chalk dust and expensive starch, sweating profusely under his high collar.
"Konohamaru!" Naruto slurped the noodles up instantly. He hopped off the stool. "Check it out! You won't believe what I learned!"
Ebisu adjusted his dark sunglasses, sniffing disdainfully. "Naruto Uzumaki. Please do not teach the Honorable Grandson any more...vulgar techniques. We are still recovering from the 'Sexy Jutsu'."
Ebisu adjusted his sunglasses with a trembling finger, light glinting off the opaque black lenses.
Konohamaru scoffs, "Whattaya mean we?!"
"Not that!" Naruto scoffed. "Real ninja stuff! Watch this!"
Naruto didn't hesitate. He didn't think about the fact that he was on a public street. He didn't think about the fact that he hadn't mastered the containment yet. He just wanted to show off.
He held out his right hand.
Focus. Rotation. Power.
"RASENGAN!"
The blue sphere materialized instantly. But Naruto was excited. He poured too much chakra in. The rotation screamed, a high-pitched whine that sounded like a jet engine starting up in his palm. The smell of ozone—sharp and electric, like a lightning strike—suddenly overwhelmed the scent of the ramen shop.
The air pressure dropped. The torque kicked in.
"WHOOP—"
Naruto's feet left the ground. The Rasengan wasn't just spinning; it was pulling him. It dragged his arm forward like an unruly dog on a leash, yanking his entire body into a corkscrew spin. The wind whipped up dust from the street, stinging Moegi's eyes as the pressure wave distorted the air around Naruto's hand.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Naruto yelled, flailing.
He spun out of control, careening directly toward the group. Konohamaru ducked. Moegi shrieked.
Ebisu did not duck.
"What is the meaning of—"
WHAM.
Naruto slammed into Ebisu's chest, the Rasengan grinding into the Jōnin's flak jacket. It didn't pierce him—Naruto lost the shape upon impact—but the rotational force was still there.
Ebisu launched.
He flew backward down the street, spinning like a tossed shuriken, before crashing into a stack of empty crates outside the vegetable market. The crash was followed immediately by the wet, crunching sound of twenty cabbages being simultaneously pulverized.
CRASH.
Dust billowed. Silence fell over the street.
Naruto landed on his butt, dizzy, staring at his hand.
Moegi's mouth dropped open. Udon's glasses slid off his nose and clattered onto the pavement.
Konohamaru stared at the pile of crates where his teacher was currently groaning. He looked back at Naruto, his eyes shining with absolute worship.
"Holy cow, Boss!" Konohamaru breathed. "You blew him away!"
Jiraiya, still sitting at the counter, didn't even turn around. He just lifted his sake cup.
"Check please, Teuchi. We better move before the paperwork starts."
They walked away from the scene of the crime before the vegetable merchant could start yelling. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long, orange shadows across the village gates. The massive green doors held the warmth of the day, radiating a low heat that shimmered in the twilight air.
The mood had shifted. The high of the prank faded as they reached the edge of the village.
Jiraiya stopped near the massive green doors. He looked out at the road—the same road they had walked back on just yesterday.
"Alright, kid," Jiraiya said, turning to face Naruto. "This is where we part ways for a bit."
Naruto froze. The grin vanished from his face. "Huh? What do you mean? We just got back!"
"I have leads," Jiraiya said, his voice dropping the playful tone. "Orochimaru is hurt, but he's not dead. He's going to go underground, and he's going to be desperate. I need to track his network before the trail goes cold."
A crow cawed from the forest beyond the wall, a lonely, jagged sound that made the silence between them feel wider.
"So let's go!" Naruto stepped forward, fists clenched. "I can help! I learned the Rasengan! I just blew Ebisu halfway to Suna! I'm ready!"
"No," Jiraiya said.
It was sharp. Final.
Naruto flinched. "Why?! You think I'm still weak? I stood up to Kabuto! I saved Grandma Tsunade!"
"You did," Jiraiya agreed softly. He looked down at the boy—Minato's boy—who was vibrating with the fear of being left behind. Naruto's hands were shaking, not from the Rasengan, but from the sudden drop in temperature as the sun finally slipped below the horizon.
"And that's exactly why you're staying."
Jiraiya placed a heavy hand on Naruto's shoulder.
Jiraiya's hand was heavy and calloused, rough against the synthetic fabric of Naruto's jacket.
"Naruto. You saw Castle Tanzaku return to the ground."
Naruto stopped. The image flashed in his mind—the collapsing towers, the blood in the stairwell, the sheer scale of the snakes and toads tearing the world apart.
"That wasn't a ninja fight," Jiraiya said grimly. "That was a disaster. You survived because you have guts, and because you were lucky. But luck runs out."
Jiraiya tightened his grip on Naruto's shoulder.
"I don't want the same fate for you. You're not ready for where I'm going. Not yet. Stay here. Train with Kakashi. Heal up. Get stronger."
Naruto bit his lip, looking down at his sandals. "You're... you're coming back, right?"
Jiraiya smiled. It was the smile he used to hide the worry lines around his eyes.
"Of course. I've got a book to write, don't I? Can't finish it without observing my muse."
He ruffled Naruto's spiky hair, messing it up even more than usual.
"I will be back soon. Be a good ninja."
He smelled of ink, sake, and the dust of a dozen different countries—the scent of a man who never stayed still.
Jiraiya turned and walked toward the gate.
At the guard post, Kotetsu and Izumo were standing at attention. They saw the Toad Sage approaching. They didn't wave. They didn't ask for identification. They stood rigid, chests puffed out, eyes fixed on the horizon, terrified to make a sound in the presence of the Sannin.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath as he passed, the leaves on the trees stilling in deference to the Toad Sage.
Jiraiya walked past them, his wooden sandals clicking against the stone, stepping out of the safety of the Leaf and back into the dangerous world.
Naruto watched him go until his white mane disappeared into the trees. The gate felt very big, and the village felt very quiet.