Chapter 57 – Mikoto's Regret
At the outskirts of Konoha, a man with long black hair tied in a knot stood silently. He wore a black short-sleeved shirt, white bandages wrapped tightly around his forearms, and a triangular cloth at his waist bearing the red-on-black "Fire" emblem.
It was Asuma Sarutobi, finally returning before sunset.
He raised a hand, forming the familiar seal to part the village's protective barrier. Nothing happened.
Again, and again—no response.
Asuma's expression darkened. As I thought… they've changed the code. My old access is worthless now.
His jaw tightened. So how do I get in?
Through the main gate? He had seen Kotetsu and Izumo still stationed there. Old classmates, yes—but could he trust them not to report him?
His plan had been simple: sneak in and strike Fugaku first. Catch the king, topple the bandits. But if he was exposed before even entering… everything would collapse.
He drew his trench knives, the chakra blades gleaming faintly. With Wind Release, he could slice through the barrier easily. But then? The Yamanaka clan monitored the seal constantly. If they sensed him, his ambush would end before it began.
Asuma clenched his fists, frustration gnawing at him. Damn it… what now?
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Meanwhile, Fugaku's family stepped into the lively night streets of Konoha.
Fugaku wore casual robes; beside him, Mikoto glowed in a white kimono, her dark hair pinned in a bun. Sasuke walked at her side, while Naruto trailed behind, shoulders slumped.
The lantern-lit avenue bustled with life—bright stalls, chatter, and laughter.
Mikoto glanced back at Naruto, her brow furrowed. Quietly, she tugged Sasuke closer. "Sasuke, keep an eye on Naruto for me, alright?"
For once, Sasuke didn't sulk. He nodded obediently.
The family chose a popular restaurant, lively with customers. Fugaku ordered generously, pointing at dish after dish until Mikoto pressed his hand down, half-smiling.
"That's enough, husband. We'll never finish all of it."
He relented, signaling the waiter. Soon the table filled with steaming plates.
Mikoto's eyes brightened after her first bite. "Mm, delicious!"
Fugaku sampled one as well, then grinned. "Not as good as my wife's cooking."
Mikoto rolled her eyes, but her lips curved with pride.
Across the table, Naruto barely touched his food. Fugaku noticed, excused himself with a trip to the restroom, and in secret created a shadow clone. The clone darted away—destination: Ichiraku.
Back at the table, Sasuke made an uncharacteristic effort. He picked a piece of food with his chopsticks and placed it into Naruto's bowl.
"Try this. It's good."
But Naruto only buried it under his rice and sighed.
A vein throbbed on Sasuke's forehead. This idiot… I don't do this often, and you still ignore me? He swallowed his complaint and ate silently.
Mikoto's heart ached. She pushed dish after dish into Naruto's bowl with a gentle smile. "Naruto, come, taste these. They're all very good."
Normally, Naruto ate with boundless appetite, never leaving leftovers. Tonight, he only poked at his food.
Why… why did I lie to him that day? Mikoto thought bitterly. The truth about Minato and Kushina couldn't stay hidden forever. We only delayed the pain…
She sighed softly.
Naruto sat stiffly, torn. The uncle and aunt who had been kindest to him—kinder even than Hokage Grandpa—had deceived him. Maybe it was, as Shikaku said, a "white lie." But it still hurt.
His parents were gone. And the Nine-Tails that killed them was sealed inside him.
How could he avenge them, if the murderer lived in his own body?
He understood only fragments, yet enough to feel the cruel irony.
His stomach growled loudly. The food looked wonderful, but still he couldn't lift his chopsticks.
Then—
A steaming bowl was set before him.
Naruto blinked. Rich tonkotsu broth, five slices of tender chashu arranged neatly, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, narutomaki, nori, and a soft-boiled egg with golden yolk. Green onions sprinkled on top.
Ichiraku's signature Tonkotsu Chashu Ramen. His favorite.
Naruto's nose twitched. His throat tightened.
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