Chapter 382: A Chance Encounter, Once Again
Ryū genuinely didn't know why his mind occasionally wandered into these bizarrely inappropriate places out of nowhere.
He'd stake his life on it — his tastes were perfectly ordinary, no interest in men whatsoever.
Even setting aside all the Naruto fans who liked to dub Orochimaru "the Snake Princess" as a joke, Ryū felt zero attraction toward him. Orochimaru wasn't a woman, full stop.
Sure, the man could apparently change sex, but underneath it all he was still a man — not genuinely, actually female.
Given that, there was no way he'd ever develop that kind of interest in Orochimaru.
Absolute nonsense.
Ryū hurriedly banished the whole tangent from his head, along with whatever mental images had briefly tagged along with it, and forced his attention elsewhere.
As for why that particular strange thought had surfaced in the first place —
It had to be residual influence from his old life, back when he'd been exposed to plenty of fangirls shipping various male characters together, warping his own instincts and mental associations in the process.
Especially certain Naruto fanfic writers who liked to treat Orochimaru as an implicit "female lead" — sometimes not even implicit, just outright, unapologetically written as one.
It had to be those fangirls and fanfic authors messing with his head. Yes. Definitely. That had to be it.
Whatever the actual reason, Ryū had decided that was the explanation, and so that was the explanation, case closed.
Once the mental static cleared, Ryū's attention snapped back to the present.
Looking at the familiar street stretching out in front of him, he realized with some surprise that he'd somehow, without quite meaning to, wandered his way to the street where Ichiraku Ramen sat.
Even in the dead of winter, the street's usual bustle hadn't dimmed much. Crowds still moved along it the way they always had — though plenty of faces carried noticeably less cheer than usual, a lingering effect of everything that had happened over the past several days.
Not every civilian in Konoha had made it out during the Void Beast evacuation, after all. A fair number had been caught in the village when disaster struck.
Nowhere near the death toll from the Nine-Tails incident, admittedly, but the losses hadn't been small either.
So it made sense the streets weren't exactly brimming with joy right now — plenty of people had only just finished burying their loved ones. Hardly a mood conducive to cheerfulness.
A few more steps brought him to Ichiraku Ramen's storefront, that familiar faint aroma already drifting into his nose.
The moment he stepped inside, Teuchi greeted him with his usual warm enthusiasm. "Welcome! What flavor of ramen can I get for you today, sir?"
The words had barely left his mouth before his expression shifted into mild surprise.
His gaze lingered on Ryū's face, clearly recognizing this particular long-time regular.
Ryū had, after all, left a genuinely unforgettable impression on Teuchi — his sheer appetite alone had shocked the shop owner more than once.
An eater on that scale was hard to forget. Every time Ryū showed up, Teuchi found himself run absolutely ragged — though, admittedly, raking in a small fortune along the way.
To Teuchi, Ryū was essentially a walking money tree.
Picture it: a single customer, casually polishing off dozens — sometimes over a hundred — bowls of ramen in one sitting. How was that not a small fortune walking through the door on two legs? One customer worth a hundred, easily.
There wasn't a second person like him anywhere in the entire village.
Teuchi's smile immediately widened, glowing even brighter than before — practically the expression of a man looking at a beloved son-in-law, maybe even a touch more enthusiastic than that.
"Ah, it's you, sir! It's been quite a while. Please, sit — same as always? Extra cilantro, light on the sesame oil?"
Teuchi's face lit up with genuine warmth, so much so that the corner of Ryū's mouth twitched slightly. Was this guy maybe just a little too enthusiastic?
Still, the owner had already asked, so Ryū nodded along. "Yeah, same as always — though this time, go a bit heavier on the portion. One and a half, maybe double what I usually get."
Double?!
Teuchi still remembered Ryū's personal record — over 120 bowls in a single sitting, and rumor had it he'd walked away not even full.
Double that would land somewhere close to three hundred bowls.
And Ryū's bowls were already the extra-large size to begin with. Nearly three hundred of those...
Teuchi couldn't help sucking in a sharp breath — thankfully he didn't have the phrase "unbelievably terrifying" on hand to blurt out, and had no idea such a phrase existed anyway, or Ryū might have started wondering if the man was some kind of transmigrator himself.
Teuchi ran a quick mental tally of his current ingredient stock, checking whether he had enough to actually pull this off.
After roughly thirty seconds of calculation, he nodded with great seriousness. "One and a half to double the usual — no problem at all! Please, give me just a moment, sir."
Fortunately, business had been a little slow today, and Ryū had arrived reasonably early, so Teuchi's ingredient stock was in decent shape — should just barely cover it.
Otherwise, the entire shop's supplies for the day might not have been enough for one man.
Teuchi sometimes genuinely wondered how someone with such an unremarkable build could put away that much food.
And he drank down every last drop of broth, every single time, without once — not one single time — needing to use the restroom in the entire process.
Eating that much, drinking that much liquid, and somehow the man never needed a bathroom break? Even with an absurdly efficient digestive system, surely something had to come out eventually?
And yet Teuchi had never once seen Ryū excuse himself mid-meal. It was, frankly, more than a little unsettling — hardly seemed human.
Not that Teuchi actually doubted Ryū was human, of course — he'd shared a table here before with both the Fourth Hokage and Orochimaru, one of the Sannin, so the two clearly knew each other.
Anyone who counted the Fourth Hokage as an acquaintance had to be just as reliable, just as trustworthy, as the Hokage himself.
Ryū settled into his seat at Ichiraku Ramen, absently twirling a pair of wooden chopsticks between his fingers.
While waiting for Teuchi to get started, he glanced idly toward the Dimensional Chat Group in the back of his mind — the countdown currently sitting at 11:30:51.
Only half an hour had passed. Twelve hours, apparently, was going to crawl by at a genuinely miserable pace.
Then again, thinking about it, that tracked well enough.
Time moved fast when you weren't paying it any mind — you'd think only half an hour had gone by, and suddenly it turned out to be several hours. But the moment you started actually watching the clock, willing it to move faster, every second dragged on like an eternity.
A minute or two passed, and before Teuchi had even brought out the first bowl, Ryū spotted someone who — at this particular time of day — really shouldn't have been anywhere near Konoha at all.
He'd caught a faint whiff of alcohol a little earlier, though he hadn't thought much of it at the time. People drank. Nothing unusual there.
But as the smell grew steadily stronger, more unmistakable, he finally turned to look in its direction.
And there she was — a familiar figure, and in particular, two very specific, very prominent features swaying rhythmically with every unsteady step, immediately catching his eye.
Well — ahem — any reasonably normal man's gaze would land there first, honestly. That particular area was simply too eye-catching to ignore. Ryū privately noted the size rivaled Yukari's own — maybe even edged it out slightly.
In the whole of Konoha, only Princess Tsunade came anywhere close to that particular measurement.
Ryū twirled his chopsticks idly, an expression of mild surprise crossing his face as he murmured to himself, "What's she doing back in Konoha? I thought last time she only came back because of the Nine-Tails incident."
Maybe this time it was another near-apocalyptic crisis dragging the gambling-addicted princess back for a visit.
He wondered what must have gone through her head, coming back expecting devastation and finding Konoha essentially untouched.
Probably something along the lines of did someone play a prank on me?
Fair enough, honestly — nothing about the current state of Konoha suggested any damage whatsoever, aside from that one long gouge near the village gate courtesy of Yukari's kick.
Under Ryū's watchful eye, a visibly tipsy Tsunade stumbled unsteadily forward, weaving her way straight into Ichiraku Ramen and dropping herself into a random seat without ceremony. She let out a small hiccup and mumbled, listlessly, "Two bowls, whatever toppings you've got... just — hic — just keep it light. Light seasoning's fine."
Back in the kitchen, buried in work, Teuchi let out a resigned call back. "Coming right up! Please give me just a moment, ma'am!"
Today was shaping up to be a very profitable day — and, Teuchi suspected, an absolutely exhausting one.
Thank goodness he'd taken on a few apprentices to help out lately, or he genuinely might have worked himself into an early grave today.
Nearly three hundred bowls on top of everything else walking through the door — genuinely, truly terrifying.
☆☆☆
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