The carriage ride back from the Fire Temple was an exercise in intimacy that none of us wanted.
Twelve people. One wagon. Three days of road travel.
By the time the massive green gates of Konoha came into view, the interior of the carriage smelled like a locker room that had been set on fire and then doused in cheap curry.
A fly buzzed lazily around Asuma's head—zzt-zzt—the only thing energetic left in the vehicle.
We were a tangle of limbs, snoring, and unwashed mesh armor.
Shikamaru was asleep with his mouth open, letting out a soft, whistling snore with every bump in the road.
The wheels hit the paved stone of the village entrance, and the change in vibration woke everyone up.
"We're home," Asuma-sensei announced from the driver's seat, his voice raspy.
We spilled out of the back like clowns from a very depressing circus car.
I hit the ground and stretched. My spine popped in three places—crack, pop, snap—and a groan of pure ecstasy escaped my lips. The air here was different. It didn't smell like sulfur, salt, or ancient incense. It smelled of pine resin, charcoal smoke from street vendors, and safety.
The village gate loomed overhead, the wood groaning softly in the wind, casting a cool, welcome shadow over the carriage.
"Civilization," Ino breathed, checking her split ends with tragic intensity. "I need a shower. I need to boil myself until my skin falls off."
"Seconded," Tenten agreed, adjusting her headband. She looked at her hands, still stained faintly grey from the mine's clay. "I feel crusty."
The group began to fracture naturally, the mission gravity dissolving now that we were inside the walls.
"I'm heading to the Tower," Asuma said, patting the lead-lined pouch at his waist. "Debrief with the Old Lady. Shikamaru, you're with me. I need someone to corroborate the report so she doesn't think I'm making up the 'Space-Time Rift' part."
"Troublesome," Shikamaru sighed, slouching after his sensei.
"I'm going to sleep for a week," Anko declared, cracking her neck. "If anyone knocks on my door, I will summon snakes. Lethal ones."
She waved a lazy hand and vanished into the crowd, blending instantly with the civilians.
Jiraiya-sama stood by the gate, looking up at the Hokage Mountain. He looked better than he had at the temple, but there was a restlessness in his shoulders.
"I've got some research to do," the Toad Sage said vaguely, scratching his chin. "Might head up to Mount Myōboku. The toads have good sake."
He ruffled Naruto's hair, ignoring the boy's protest. "Stay out of trouble, brat. And keep training."
Then he was gone, a blur of white hair disappearing onto the rooftops.
Team Kakashi drifted off silently—Sasuke walking ahead, Neji and Kakashi talking low, Tenten trailing behind.
That left me and Naruto standing in the middle of the street.
"So," I said, rubbing my eyes. My vision was crisp—no glasses needed—but my eyelids felt like sandpaper. "Home."
"RAMEN!" Naruto shouted suddenly, startling a passing cat.
He grabbed my wrist. His grip was warm and vibrating with energy.
"We gotta go to Ichiraku! I haven't had it in like... a week! I'm going through withdrawal, Sylvie! My blood is turning into water! It needs to be broth!"
"Okay, okay," I laughed, letting him drag me. "Lead the way, ramen-boy."
The noren curtains of Ichiraku Ramen fluttered in the late morning breeze.
To Naruto, this wasn't a restaurant. It was a shrine.
We ducked inside. The steam hit us instantly—a savory, pork-bone fog that enveloped us like a warm hug.
The sound of slurping was cacophonous—slurp-slurp-ahhh—a symphony of satisfaction echoing off the tiled walls.
"Old Man!" Naruto yelled, slamming his hands on the counter. "I'm back! Did you miss me?"
Teuchi turned from the boiling pot, a ladle in his hand. His eyes, usually squinted shut in a permanent smile, popped open for a second.
"Naruto!" Teuchi laughed, a booming sound that rattled the bowls on the shelf.
Steam condensed on his glasses, turning the world into a foggy blur for a split second before he wiped them on his apron.
"Where ya been, kid? I started losing money because you were gone! My profit margins took a dive!"
"Missions!" Naruto puffed out his chest, pointing to his headband. "Super dangerous S-Rank stuff! We fought lightning guys! And zombies! And a giant rock!"
Teuchi leaned over the counter, grinning. "Wow. So you're a real-real ninja now, eh? Protecting the village?"
"Believe it!"
"Well then," Teuchi nodded solemnly. "Better give you extra meat next time. Gotta fuel the hero."
The broth bubbled in the pot—gloop-gloop—releasing a thick, fatty aroma that coated the back of my throat.
Naruto looked like he was going to cry. This place... it really was the only home he had ever known.
I smiled, taking a seat on a stool. "Miso Chashu for me too, please."
"Coming right up!"
I glanced at the pair sitting near the register: a rugged, older man with wild grey hair and a scruffy beard wearing a torn sleeveless gi, casually drinking from a white paper cup, and a bald man with a strong jaw in a cowled navy tunic eating silently beside him.
I looked down the counter.
There were two other customers eating at the far end.
I blinked. My new, 20/20 vision zoomed in.
They were wearing green spandex jumpsuits. They had orange leg warmers. They had bowl cuts.
But the spandex was baggy, wrinkling around the knees and elbows. The green was the wrong shade—more 'vomit lime' than 'leaf green'. And the bowl cuts...
The wigs were sitting crooked. I could see messy brown hair poking out from underneath the black synthetic fiber.
The skinny one (Mondai) was sweating profusely. The chubby one (Potcha) was trying to eat ramen through a fake pair of buck teeth that looked like they belonged on a beaver.
A single strand of ramen hung from his fake teeth, swaying precariously as he chewed.
No way, I thought.
I looked closer. They weren't Rock Lee and Might Guy. They were two random guys wearing Halloween costumes they'd bought from a discount bin.
The fabric of their suits made a cheap swish-swish sound whenever they moved, nothing like the high-quality flex-weave of real ninja gear.
"Naruto," I whispered, nudging him with my elbow.
"What?" Naruto asked, drooling over the smell of the broth.
"Look at those guys," I said, pointing subtly.
Naruto turned. He squinted.
He saw the green. He saw the shiny bowl cuts. His brain made the connection instantly, bypassing all logic, detail, or reality.
The rugged man in the torn gi paused mid-sip, his hook-nosed profile turning as he watched Naruto with the amused, tired expression of a veteran actor on a break.
"HEY!" Naruto screamed. "BUSHY BROWS! GUY-SENSEI!"
The effect was instantaneous.
Mondai and Potcha froze.
They didn't just stop eating. They locked up. The noodles hanging from Mondai's mouth slowly slid back into the bowl with a wet plop. Potcha looked like he was having a heart attack.
It was a real-life vomit GIF. Their eyes bulged. Their skin went pale.
They think they're busted, I realized. They think an actual Konoha ninja just made them.
"GUY-SENSEI!" Naruto yelled again, leaning over the counter to wave at them. "I DIDN'T KNOW YOU GUYS WERE BACK! IS LEE OKAY? CAN HE WALK?"
Mondai choked on a piece of pork. Potcha started coughing violently, trying to hide his face behind his bowl.
"Uh... yes!" Mondai squeaked, his voice cracking an octave too high. "Youth! We are... full of youth!"
"SO MUCH YOUTH!" Potcha added, giving a thumbs up that trembled visibly.
Sweat dripped from Mondai's wig, running down his face in a rivulets that threatened to unglue his fake eyebrows.
Naruto beamed. "That's great! You guys are awesome!"
I stared at Naruto. He genuinely didn't see it. To him, the archetype was stronger than the reality. If it walks like a Bushy Brow and talks like a Bushy Brow...
I looked at Teuchi. The ramen chef was watching them, his brow furrowed. He knew. Of course he knew. But he was too polite to say anything to paying customers.
The cash register dinged—cha-ching—as Teuchi tallied up another order, the sound cutting through the tension.
An idea sparked in my brain.
I leaned over the counter.
"Hey, Teuchi-san," I said, keeping my voice low enough that Naruto wouldn't hear, but the imposters would. "You said business was slow, right?"
"Yeah," Teuchi sighed. "Lunch rush hasn't been the same."
"Well," I gestured to the two sweating imposters. "Since 'Guy-Sensei' and 'Lee' are famous ninja... maybe they could help you out? You know, attract customers?"
Mondai and Potcha stiffened. They looked at me. I gave them a sharp, knowing look.
Play along, my eyes said. Or I tell the blonde kid you're fakes.
"Oh!" Teuchi's face lit up. "That's a brilliant idea! Having Jōnin endorse the shop!"
He turned to the imposters.
"What do you say, fellas? Would you mind holding a sign out front for a bit? Maybe handing out some coupons? In the name of... uh... Youth?"
Mondai looked at Potcha. They were trapped. If they said no, they risked exposure. If they said yes, they were free labor.
"We would be honored!" Mondai shouted, standing up and snapping a salute. "For the ramen! And the Youth!"
"YES! ADVERTISING IS YOUTH!" Potcha screamed.
The bald man in the navy tunic leaned in to whisper something to his scruffy companion, who chuckled and tipped his paper cup in a mock toast to the chaos.
"Awesome!" Naruto cheered. "Guy-Sensei is so cool! He helps everyone!"
Ten minutes later, we walked out of the shop with full bellies.
Behind us, two men in ill-fitting spandex were standing on the street corner, miserably holding a sign that said ICHIRAKU RAMEN: THE TASTE OF BURNING YOUTH! while Teuchi watched from the doorway, looking like he'd won the lottery.
Passersby stared, bewildered, as the imposters flexed weakly, their spandex sagging in all the wrong places.
"Man," Naruto said thoughtfully as we walked down the street. "I didn't know Guy-Sensei and Lee quit being ninjas."
I blinked. "What?"
"I mean," Naruto scratched his head. "Why else would they be delivering ramen ads in the middle of the day? They must have retired."
He looked back at them, shaking his head solemnly.
"I guess the ninja life was too hard for them. Poor Bushy Brows."
I opened my mouth to correct him. I looked at Naruto's earnest, confused face. I looked at the two idiots sweating in the sun.
I closed my mouth.
"Yeah," I said, suppressing a snort. "It's a tough economy, Naruto. Even for the Green Beast."
Naruto kicked a pebble down the road, whistling a cheerful, off-key tune, completely oblivious to the absurdity behind him.