[A/N: I changed some dialogue in the previous chapter to make the story better. In case you don't what to go back, I added the change part here.]
She walked straight over to Kokomi and, without missing a beat, threw herself into her arms, letting out an exaggerated wail.
"Uwahhhh! Mother! Kuro is a big, bad bully!" she sobbed. "He was so mean to me! Hic… Hic… Chains… Hic… Whips… Hic…"
Kuro sat there, completely gobsmacked.
***
Kuro decided to head out, disregarding his 'punishment' as he knew his parents just wanted to spend time with Kisara.
After all, he had spent nearly four decades with her inside the Tower of Heavens. She was like family to him. So if his parents misunderstood their relationship, he didn't mind. Let them think what they want.
Stepping out of the Nara compound, he was greeted by the hustle and bustle of the village streets.
Merchants shouted over each other, children darted between stalls, and shinobi passed by with missions on their minds. It was noisy, chaotic, and alive.
Kuro's gaze drifted up toward the distant hill, where the hot spring sat. The memory of that night sent a cold shiver crawling up his spine.
(A/N: Yes, the one where he saw something in the hot spring that haunted him for weeks. You know the one.)
Shaking the memory off, he let his feet carry him through the streets, aimless but content. The scent of grilled meats, fried dumplings, and fresh miso broth wafted through the air, stirring something deeper than just hunger.
Then he saw it.
Ichiraku Ramen. The sign hung proudly, and the smell of rich broth wrapped around him like an old friend.
"So, the famous Ichiraku Ramen finally opened during the four years I was gone," he mused.
Without thinking, he ducked under the curtain and slid onto a stool.
"One miso ramen," he ordered, offering a small nod to the young Teuchi behind the counter.
Moments later, the steaming bowl was placed in front of him. He broke the chopsticks apart, stirred the broth gently, then took a bite.
The flavor hit him—savory, deep, comforting.
He closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Yeah, this... this was peace.
For a moment, he forgot about everything.
Unseen by the rest of the world, his own shadow flickered slightly.
From within, countless pairs of glowing eyes stared longingly at the bowl in front of their Lord. Silent, disciplined, and ever loyal—yet utterly tormented by the scent wafting through the air.
'GULP'
The entire legion of shadow soldiers swallowed in unison..
Then the curtain rustled behind Kuro.
The stool beside him creaked as someone took a seat beside Kuro.
Kuro's eyes cracked open lazily, glancing sideways.
"White Fang," he muttered, recognizing the silver-haired man beside him. Sakumo Hatake—the legendary shinobi. One of the few people Kuro had ever respected.
'Until he took his own life.'
There was a flicker of something in Kuro's gaze. Not judgment—just memory.
Sakumo gave Kuro a look before ordering casually, "I'll have the usual, Teuchi."
The ramen master gave a short nod and began preparing the order with practiced hands.
For a few moments, silence stretched between them, filled only by the bubbling of broth and the clatter of pots behind the counter.
"Hello there, young one," Sakumo said. "Let me introduce myself. As you may already know, I am Sakumo Hatake." Sakumo smiled.
"I am Kuro Nara, of the Nara Clan." Kuro also introduced himself.
Sakumo's eyes widened in slight confusion when he heard the name. "Kuro Nara? As in the boy who humiliated the Hyuga kids four years ago?"
"The one and only!" Kuro puffed out his chest proudly.
"But you don't look too old to be that boy? I heard he wants out of the village to train."
"A lot happened while I was gone. It's a long story, so I'll spare you. Let's just enjoy our ramen, yeah?"
"Sure," Sakumo said, sensing the shift, but deciding not to pry.
The two of them spent the next twenty minutes chatting about random things and discussing the happenings in the Shinobi world.
"Well, I'm off now," Kuro said, getting up from his stool.
"Take care," Sakumo waved him off.
Afterward, Kuro decided to stroll around to digest all the ramen. He strolled past storefronts and street carts, his eyes casually scanning over weapon shops, restaurants, and the occasional hawker trying to sell second-hand goods.
A small child tugged at his mother's clothes, pointing at a display of dango, and Kuro couldn't help but smile.
Then—
WHAM!
Something red and fast collided with his shoulder.
"Oof—hey! Watch where you're—" a voice barked, high-energy and unfiltered.
Kuro turned to find himself face-to-face with a whirlwind of red hair and fiery attitude. The girl stood with her fists planted on her hips, glaring up at him.
"It's you again! Why are you walking around like you own the street or something? I oughta—!"
Kuro blinked. "You ran into me."
"Wha—!? I did not! You were the one standing still like some broody statue! Don't just randomly appear in my way!"
"You're loud," Kuro said plainly.
"And you're weird!" she shot back, crossing her arms.
Kuro sighed, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "You always make an entrance like this?"
Kushina huffed, cheeks puffed out like an angry cat. "Only when the universe insists on throwing you into my way!"
The street around them buzzed with laughter and interest now. A vendor was already offering popcorn to onlookers as crowds started to form around them due to how ridiculously loud Kushina was.
"…You know," Kuro muttered, "why are you mad at me anyway?"
Kushina flailed her arms in frustration, her voice cracking with indignation. "I'm not mad! I'm just… passionately expressive!"
Kuro stared at her for a long second, blinking slowly. "…Right. Passionate."
"You say it like it's a bad thing!"
He tilted his head, utterly unfazed. "And loud."
Kushina let out a strangled sound halfway between a growl and a scream, stomping once for emphasis. "You—! Ugh! You're impossible!"
With that, she stormed off.
"Well, that was a storm," Kuro muttered as he looked at the fading back of Kushina.
Just as he turned to walk away, he felt someone's gaze on him.
Without any sound, a shadow emerged from the crowd—a figure cloaked in black, the distinctive mask of an Anbu covering their face.
The Anbu moved with practiced ease, pulling a small scroll from their pouch and offering it to Kuro. Sealed with the Hokage's crest.
"Your presence is requested," the Anbu said.
Kuro glanced at the scroll, his lips curling into a faint, knowing smirk. So, the Hokage had finally caught wind of his return. He didn't take the scroll immediately, instead raising an eyebrow. "So, the 'great' Hokage sent you?"
The Anbu said nothing but subtly shifted, waiting for Kuro to make a decision.
With a sigh, Kuro accepted the scroll from the Anbu's outstretched hand. Breaking the seal, he unfurled the parchment and quickly read its contents.
"Well, looks like I wouldn't be heading home yet," he muttered to himself, glancing back at the retreating crowd where Kushina had disappeared. It was tempting to just ignore the summons and let it slide, but he wanted to know what that hypocrite wanted from him.
He rolled up the scroll, tucking it into his cloak, and looked at the Anbu with a small, almost amused smirk. "Alright, I'll head there immediately."
The Anbu nodded, stepping back slightly. Without a word, he turned and vanished into the crowds.