"Come on, have a drink!"
"Bottoms up, bottoms up!"
"No matter how much ramen I eat, Ichiraku's always hits the spot!"
"Hahaha, as long as you enjoy it, esteemed customers!"
As Naruto approached the entrance, he could already hear the cheerful laughter and lively chatter spilling from within the shop. Clearly, it was bustling.
Naruto paused at the doorway for a moment, adjusting the smile on his face to make it even more perfectly elegant. He pushed open the door to Ichiraku Ramen, and a wave of fragrant steam and warm air washed over him.
When those inside saw who had entered, the lively atmosphere hitched for a split second before resuming its previous boisterousness. The customers continued their conversations as if they hadn't seen Naruto at all. They all knew Teuchi treated every customer equally. Once, a customer had loudly declared he wouldn't eat in the same establishment as the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, demanding Teuchi throw Naruto out. Instead, Teuchi had thrown that customer out.
Since then, an unwritten rule had formed at Ichiraku Ramen: no venting frustrations on other patrons.
"Uncle, I'm here for some noodles," Naruto said with a slight nod and a smile towards Teuchi.
"Ah, Naruto! I've just developed a new recipe. Care to try it?" Teuchi boomed with a hearty laugh.
"Uncle, your ramen is already the best in Konoha. If you keep developing new ones, I'm afraid my wallet won't be able to keep up," Naruto said with a faint smile, taking a seat in the most secluded spot.
"Hahaha, you always know what to say! I absolutely have to show off for you today," Uncle Teuchi declared, his spirits high.
Naruto waited quietly for his ramen, his gaze subtly sweeping over the other ninja and villagers in the shop. One particularly odd-looking ninja caught his attention. He had long white hair, a black mask covering most of his face, and his forehead protector was tilted to cover one eye. The eye left exposed was as lifeless as a dead fish. He looked utterly indifferent.
Naruto had seen many ninja, but this white-haired man was the only one who seemed so listless yet inexplicably exuded the aura of a master.
Though, speaking of which…
How did one eat ramen with a mask on? Naruto wondered, a genuinely puzzled expression on his face.
As if sensing Naruto's stare, the white-haired ninja's gaze flicked over, meeting Naruto's. For a fleeting moment, Naruto saw the ninja's normally impassive eyes quiver, a complex emotion surfacing within them. It was an emotion entirely different from the familiar disgust he usually encountered.
Could it be… guilt?
Was he seeing things? Naruto frowned slightly.
Staring at someone was impolite. Naruto gave the white-haired ninja a small, apologetic nod, then averted his gaze, turning away. Yet, a sliver of curiosity about the white-haired ninja had been kindled within him.
Kakashi looked away, staring blankly at the noodles in his hands, his appetite suddenly gone. He was the student of Naruto's birth father, Minato Namikaze. Minato had taken great care of him, generously teaching him all the ninjutsu he knew. But with the deaths of Minato, his own father, and his close friends, Kakashi had fallen into a state of confusion, living with his grief in solitude ever since.
He was, of course, aware of the unfair treatment Naruto endured in the village. But he was merely an Elite Jonin. He lacked the power to intervene, and in his years of wallowing, he hadn't even tried. He took on missions relentlessly, attempting to numb himself, but every time he saw Naruto, a profound sense of guilt would surge within him.
'Sensei's only bloodline is suffering, and I can do nothing.'
He took a deep breath, his lips trembling slightly beneath his mask.
Naruto was oblivious to Kakashi's inner turmoil. He was currently focused on savoring his Ichiraku ramen. Before eating, he clasped his hands together, a devout look on his face. "Itadakimasu."
He first leaned in to inhale the ramen's fragrant aroma, then took a sip of the broth – rich, flavorful, and aromatic. Next, he bit into a slice of chashu pork; it melted in his mouth, tender and delicate.
"This is too delicious!" Naruto instantly forgot about his cultivated manners, picked up the bowl, and began to wolf down the noodles with gusto.
Seeing the usually refined and elegant Naruto devouring his food like a starving wolf, Uncle Teuchi couldn't stop smiling. This was the greatest affirmation of his cooking.
"Now that you've filled your stomach, let's begin today's training."
Just as Naruto stepped out of Ichiraku Ramen, Aizen's calm voice resonated in his mind.
"Training? I can start training now?" Naruto was instantly thrilled.
Aizen chuckled softly. "I hope you remain this enthusiastic about training in the future."
Arriving at the most deserted area of the training grounds, Naruto had already warmed up.
"You now possess Reiatsu and an Asauchi. You can be considered a preparatory Shinigami," Aizen said, pausing slightly at the word 'Shinigami.' An image of Naruto's intertwined red and white Reiraku flashed in his mind. Even he didn't know if Naruto was human or Shinigami. Or perhaps, both.
"A Shinigami's combat methods are broadly divided into Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Shunpo, and Kido."
"The most basic of these is Hakuda, which can also be called hand-to-hand combat. Zanjutsu is swordsmanship."
"Shunpo is a technique for moving the body so rapidly that it's difficult for the naked eye to follow, thus creating the illusion of teleportation."
"Finally, there is Kido. Kido are specialized spells used by Shinigami, divided into Hado, Bakudo, and Kaido. Shunpo and Kido are still too advanced for you at this stage," Aizen concisely introduced the four main combat styles to Naruto.
"S-so complicated… But I'll definitely master them all! I'll work hard!" Naruto committed everything Aizen said to memory.
"Before you can master these combat styles, you need to build a solid foundation. First, we'll work on your stamina and strength. Start by running three laps around the training ground."
Aizen's next words, however, made Naruto freeze in place. A Konoha training ground had a radius of about ten kilometers. One lap would be exhausting, let alone three.
"What's wrong? Scared?"
"Scared? I'm not scared! I'll run!" Naruto gritted his teeth and began to jog along the edge of the training ground.
"No one achieves success overnight. This world has no shortage of talent. Without the accumulation of time and effort, talent is merely wasted. Today is just the beginning. Later, Zanjutsu lessons will be added to your regimen. Rest assured, the truly hellish training is yet to come," Aizen said gently, but his words made Naruto cry out inwardly in distress.
Aizen no longer watched Naruto's training. He opened a book and began to read quietly. In the past, in his own quest for power and to overthrow the corrupt Central 46, he had undergone demonic training that ordinary people could scarcely imagine. As he'd said, no strong individual was made overnight. Without effort, talent would only be squandered. For him, ten thousand sword swings were nothing more than a normal daily routine.
But there was one thing he didn't tell Naruto.
'Countless exceptionally talented Shinigami once worked as hard as I did. They believed that talent plus time would make them the strongest. Unfortunately for them, before me, they all ended up as mere pawns,' Aizen mused to himself with a cold smile.
'Uzumaki Naruto, I hope you won't disappoint my efforts to cultivate you. Do add a little amusement to my otherwise dull existence.'