Chapter 31
The Hidden Leaf Village had long since begun its reconstruction. Though the scars of battle remained, the once-devastated landscape now sprouted with new life. Wooden houses were slowly taking shape, the streets bustled with chatter again, and even the temporary stall of Ichiraku Ramen was back in business, luring in villagers with the familiar smell of rich pork bone broth.
In a quiet corner of the shop, a young man sat, his figure unremarkable, but his appetite unmistakable. His left hand was wrapped in a fresh bandage, and in front of him sat a steaming bowl of miso ramen with extra pork. He clasped his hands together.
"Itadakimasu," he said earnestly.
Snap!
He broke his chopsticks and dug in like a man who hadn't eaten in days. Slurping hungrily, he inhaled the ramen as if every strand contained a memory he didn't want to forget.
That young man—was none other than Uzumaki Naruto.
No matter what he had become—Jinchūriki, hero, missing-nin, or potential traitor—some things never changed. Ichiraku's ramen was carved into his soul, a comfort that outlived betrayal, war, and the rise and fall of villages. Hokage or fugitive, it didn't matter—when the craving hit, Naruto would risk sneaking into the very village that now hunted him… just to taste that warmth again.
Slurp—slurp—gulp!
He downed the entire bowl, soup and all, in under three minutes, licking his lips in satisfaction.
"Man, that hit the spot…" he murmured, patting his stomach and leaning back in his seat.
But as he turned his head, a familiar figure caught his eye—seated just one stool away.
Iruka-sensei.
Naruto's heart almost leapt from his chest. His first instinct was to speak—to say something, anything—but when he saw Iruka's downcast expression, the words caught in his throat.
Iruka sat unmoving, chopsticks untouched, staring blankly at the lukewarm bowl in front of him. His eyes, once full of warmth, now carried a heavy sadness. Naruto could guess why.
The boy he once believed in had abandoned the village.
Naruto slowly withdrew his hand, clenched his jaw, and quietly stood up. He didn't want Iruka to see him. Not like this.
Behind the counter, Teuchi paused from rolling the dough and glanced up, catching a glimpse of the retreating figure. His eyes narrowed.
"Father?" Ayame, his daughter, looked up curiously. "Something wrong?"
Teuchi shook his head, but his gaze lingered on that familiar back.
"...Nothing," he muttered, returning to his work.
Naruto walked silently through the streets of Konoha. Familiar faces passed him by—merchants, shinobi, children playing tag—but no one recognized him. Thanks to his transformation jutsu, he was just another face in the crowd.
His feet, acting on habit, led him to the spot he once called home.
What he found there was nothing but ruins.
Of course, after Pain's assault, it was foolish to expect his old apartment to still be standing. But the sight still stung.
Naruto turned to leave, but then something caught his eye—red words scrawled in crude handwriting across the broken wall.
"Demon fox."
"Traitor."
"Monster."
"Die."
Malicious words, freshly painted, still dripping.
Naruto's face remained calm. After everything, insults and hate didn't move him anymore. But curiosity made him climb the rubble to get a better look. Some of the older slurs had been half-wiped away, smudged by something like paint.
"What the hell…?"
Then, a familiar voice called out behind him.
"You're the one who wrote today's slurs, aren't you!?"
Naruto turned to see Konohamaru storming forward, paint bucket in hand, followed by Moegi and Udon.
Konohamaru glared up at the stranger standing in the ruins. He didn't recognize Naruto in his disguise, but his anger wasn't dulled.
"Listen here, whoever you are! Naruto-niisan isn't what you think! He's a true shinobi! One day, he's gonna be Hokage—just watch!"
Moegi pulled on his sleeve, whispering nervously, "Don't cause trouble…"
"I'm not fighting," Konohamaru grumbled. "But I'm not letting anyone slander Naruto-niisan either!"
Without waiting for a reply, Konohamaru marched up and began furiously painting over the blood-red insults, covering each one until they disappeared.
Naruto smiled faintly and jumped down from the rubble. As he walked away with his hands in his pockets, he glanced over his shoulder at the young boy.
"Konoha Maru… You don't need to protect me from words. I've learned to walk through fire. But… thank you."
The sun was beginning to set. Naruto quietly made his way toward the cemetery, stopping on a distant hill to look down at the memorial.
Kakashi stood in front of the stone, as he always did, lost in silent mourning. Beside him stood Uzuki Yugao, who had just placed flowers on the grave of her fallen lover.
"Kakashi-senpai," she said softly. "Are you thinking about Naruto again?"
Kakashi didn't answer immediately. His gaze was heavy.
"I wonder what Obito would think," he finally said.
Yugao offered a sad smile. "Everyone's talking about it. Naruto... Danzo's in power now. Public opinion is turning fast, but once Lady Tsunade wakes up, things might change."
"I hope you're right," Kakashi muttered.
From where he stood, Naruto couldn't hear their words. But he knew what they were talking about.
He looked past the monument and whispered, "Ero-sennin… I miss you."
He hadn't placed a new grave for Jiraiya this time. After all, when he encountered the Kara Organization in the future, he saw another version of Jiraiya—altered, cloned by science. That made things… complicated.
"If I'd gone back in time just a little earlier… maybe you wouldn't have died," he murmured. "But it doesn't matter now. All that matters is finding your real body before Amado does…"
Playing with time was taboo, but Naruto had long since broken every rule he once swore to uphold.
"I've already defied time once. If I have to, I'll do it again."
By now, the night had fully fallen.
He walked quietly toward the Hokage's office, passing by the stone wall where Tsunade's face had begun to be carved again.
Before he could get close, two guards stepped out, blocking the way.
"This area is off-limits to civilians. Turn back."
Naruto tilted his head. "Oh? Who's in charge now?"
"Lord Danzo, the Sixth Hokage."
"Is that so…" Naruto chuckled. "Thanks for the info."
He walked away into an empty alley. Once alone, he activated Sage Mode and closed his eyes.
"Danzo… hiding like a rat in his den. Just as expected."
He reached out and placed his hand on a streetlamp pole, marking it with Flying Thunder God technique.
Then he vanished in a flicker.
Moments later, three familiar shinobi passed by—Shikaku, Inoichi, and Choza, all slightly drunk.
As they walked, Shikaku paused, glancing at the lamp post.
"What is it?" Inoichi asked.
"…Nothing," Shikaku said, but his sharp eyes didn't miss the mark Naruto had left behind.
Meanwhile, far outside the village, in a forest clearing, Konan, Orochimaru, and Kisame stood in front of a deep pit.
Swish!
Naruto reappeared, undoing his transformation. He stepped forward, lifting his cloak.
"Is he here?"
Kisame nodded. "Found him, but… well, see for yourself."
Naruto peered into the hole. At the bottom lay a pale, severed head—lifeless, eyes shut.
Hidan.
Naruto raised a hand.
"Vientiane Ten'in."
A pull of gravity yanked the head into his grasp.
Pop!
Hidan's eyes snapped open. "You bastards—!"
Naruto stuffed him into a sealing box and slammed it shut before he could rant.
The box shook violently.
Orochimaru chuckled. "Quite the souvenir."
Konan stepped forward. "What now?"
Naruto turned to them, cloak fluttering in the wind.
"We're heading back to Amegakure."
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