The walk home from the Academy was a data stream of fading light and shifting shadows. Naruto's mind, still humming from the chakra calculations of the Clone Technique, was now running a comparative analysis of ramen shops. The variables were complex: broth viscosity, noodle alkalinity, chashu fat-to-lean ratio, ambient noise levels, and—the most critical factor—proximity to his apartment.
Ichiraku's had a near-perfect score, offset only by the occasional dip in customer service efficiency when Ayame-san was distracted by a complicated order. But the broth consistency was a mathematical constant of deliciousness.
He pushed aside the noren curtains, the familiar, savory steam washing over him like a warm embrace. "Teuchi-jiji! One miso pork, extra noodles!"
The old man behind the counter looked up, his usual genial smile in place. "Naruto! Right away—" The smile faltered for a microsecond, a flicker of something complicated and weary in his eyes, before professionalism smoothed it over. It was a data point Naruto had catalogued long ago. Teuchi's welcome was always 7.3% less enthusiastic than it was for other customers. A tolerable margin of error.
Naruto slid onto a stool just as another customer at the far end quickly finished their bowl, dropped a few coins on the counter, and left without a backward glance.
Hypothesis confirmed, Naruto thought. My presence reduces average customer dwell time by approximately 4.2 minutes. An interesting social phenomenon.
He was about to delve deeper into the socioeconomics of it when a soft, hesitant voice spoke from the entrance.
"Um… e-excuse me…"
Naruto turned. Framed in the doorway, backlit by the setting sun, was Hyuga Hinata. She was clutching a small coin purse in both hands, looking at the menu board as if it were written in a lost language.
Teuchi's smile returned, genuine and warm. "Hello there, young miss! What can I get for you?"
Hinata's eyes darted from the menu to Teuchi, to the floor, and then, accidentally, to Naruto. She froze, a deer caught in the lantern light of the stall. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. A high-pitched, internal whine seemed to be the only thing operating.
Naruto's brain processed the scene in milliseconds. Variable: Hinata. Location: Ichiraku. State: High anxiety. Probability of successful order completion: declining rapidly. It was an inefficient system breakdown.He could optimize it.
"The miso pork is the optimal choice," he stated, turning fully on his stool to face her. "The umami profile has a 92% approval rating among first-time customers. The salt content is also ideal for post-academy caloric replenishment."
Hinata stared at him, her brain seemingly buffering. The whine intensified. "O-optimal…?"
"Yeah!" Naruto said, his analytical tone giving way to earnest enthusiasm. "It's the best! Right, Teuchi-jiji?"
"It is indeed!" Teuchi said cheerfully, giving Hinata a reassuring nod.
"Th-then… that one, p-please," she managed to whisper, her face turning a shade of red that rivaled the simmering tomatoes in the broth.
"Coming right up! Take a seat," Teuchi said, gesturing to the stool next to Naruto.
Hinata looked at the stool as if it were wired to explode. She took a tiny, shuffling step forward, then another, before perching on the very edge of the seat, her body angled away from him. The space between them was a charged gap, filled with unspoken social protocols Naruto hadn't yet deciphered.
Silence descended, broken only by the cheerful bubbling of the pots. Naruto, oblivious to the tension, was perfectly content. The problem (ordering) had been solved. He now awaited the solution (ramen).
Hinata, however, was undergoing a system meltdown. He's right there. Do I say something? What do I say? My father said not to associate with… but he was kind. He's smart. He said 'optimal.' I'm going to be sick. Should I leave? But I already ordered. That would be rude—
"Your posture is inefficient for digestion."
Hinata jolted. Naruto was looking at her, his head tilted in that bird-like way he had when analyzing something. "You're compressing your diaphragm. It will hinder the peristaltic process when the food arrives. You should sit up straight. Maximize abdominal cavity volume."
It was the most bizarre, clinical, and oddly caring advice she had ever received. Slowly, hesitantly, she straightened her spine, her hands still clenched in her lap.
"Oh… th-thank you."
"You are welcome. Logical efficiency benefits everyone."
Teuchi placed two steaming bowls on the counter. "Here you are! One for the genius, and one for the young lady."
The aroma was divine. Naruto immediately grabbed his chopsticks, gave a quick, "Thanks for the food!" and began consuming his ramen with a speed and precision that was, itself, a kind of art. Each slurp was calculated for optimal noodle-to-broth ratio, each bite of chashu savored for exactly the right amount of time.
Hinata watched him for a second, mesmerized by the focused joy of it, before picking up her own chopsticks with trembling hands. She took a small, tentative sip of the broth.
Her eyes widened. It was… incredible. Warmth spread through her chest, calming her frantic nerves. She took another, more confident sip.
"See?" Naruto said between slurps, not looking up from his bowl. "The data doesn't lie."
They ate in a silence that was no longer uncomfortable, but… companionable. The only sounds were their eating and the quiet bustle of the street outside. For Naruto, it was a shared appreciation of a perfect system. For Hinata, it was the first meal she hadn't eaten alone in the silence of the Hyuga compound in a long, long time.
She finished her bowl, a feat she hadn't known she was capable of. She felt full and warm. "It was… very optimal," she said softly, a tiny, brave smile touching her lips.
Naruto looked up, his own bowl already empty. He saw her smile. It was a new data point. A positive outcome resulting from a shared experience. Correlation: Consumption of Ichiraku ramen leads to increased facial muscle contraction indicating happiness in Hyuga Hinata. He filed it away.
He slid off his stool. "I have to go. Evening training regimen must commence before solar radiation is completely depleted. The metabolic window is critical."
He bowed slightly to Teuchi. "Thank you for the meal!" He dropped a handful of ryo on the counter—exact change, plus a 12% tip he'd calculated as the ideal amount for continued excellent service.
He turned to leave, then paused, looking back at Hinata. "Your form during the Clone Technique practice was flawed," he stated.
Hinata's fragile confidence shattered. She looked down at her empty bowl, shame washing over her. Of course he'd noticed. She was a failure. A disgrace to the Hyuga name—
"You're releasing the chakra a quarter-second too early on the Tiger seal," he continued, his voice matter-of-fact. "It causes a 15% drop in stability. Delay the release. Hold the seal until you feel the chakra matrix fully coalesce. It will improve your success probability by at least 40%."
And with that piece of utterly unexpected, incredibly specific technical advice, he gave her a short nod and disappeared through the curtains.
Hinata sat frozen. He hadn't been mocking her. He'd been… tutoring her. He'd analyzed her failure, diagnosed the cause, and prescribed a solution. No one had ever done that for her. Her tutors in the Hyuga compound simply sighed and told her to try harder, to be less of a disappointment.
Teuchi began clearing the bowls. He smiled at the stunned girl. "He's a good kid, that one. A bit… unique. But he's got a good heart."
Hinata nodded slowly, her mind reeling. She paid for her meal, her hands steadier now.
Stepping out into the cool evening air, she didn't head directly home. Instead, she found a quiet, empty training ground. She looked at her hands.
Ram → Snake → Tiger.
She performed the seals, focusing not on her fear of failure, but on the feeling of the chakra. She held the Tiger seal, waiting, feeling the energy build until it felt solid, real…
Poof.
A clone appeared. It was wobbly, translucent around the edges—a far cry from Naruto's perfection—but it had two legs, two arms, and held its form for a full three seconds before dissolving into smoke.
It was her best clone ever.
She stared at the spot where it had been, her heart swelling with a feeling she couldn't name. Gratitude? Awe? Something more?
He had seen her. Not the clumsy heiress, not the failure. He had seen a problem in a system and had offered a solution.
And for Hyuga Hinata, that simple, logical act of seeing her felt like a miracle.