I have been doing that - Naruto: Mindfire

The savoury scent of miso and broth hung thick in the air, curling out from the open slats of the wooden counter and into the street beyond. The warm, golden glow of paper lanterns spilt across the worn floorboards of Ichiraku Ramen, painting the scene in hues of amber and red. Steam rose from the bubbling pots behind the counter, mingling with the chatter of satisfied patrons and the occasional clink of chopsticks striking ceramic.

It was late evening in Konoha; the village had settled into its familiar rhythm after a long day, yet Ichiraku's little stand remained lively, a pocket of warmth beneath the dimming sky. Inside, three familiar figures sat shoulder to shoulder at the counter—Satoru, Ito, and Ayano—each with a steaming bowl of ramen before them.

"Another future hero of Konoha, eh?" Teuchi said with his usual booming cheer, setting down their bowls with a satisfying thunk. His hands were steady, practised, as he wiped his apron and gave Satoru an approving grin.

"Word travels fast, you know. Congratulations, Genin Satoru."

Beside him, Yuka leaned over the counter with a bright smile. "You must be proud! We don't get many new shinobi celebrating here right after graduation."

Satoru inclined his head politely. "Thank you, Teuchi-san, Yuka-san," he said, voice measured. His expression was mild, almost unreadable, though the faint curve at the corner of his mouth hinted at quiet amusement. "Feels strange being called that already. Genin."

Teuchi laughed, stirring a pot behind the counter. "You'll get used to it soon enough! The village has a way of turning young hopefuls into veterans before they even realise it."

Satoru's eyes flickered slightly; a shadow of understanding passed behind them. "I'm sure it does."

Ito broke the brief silence by clapping his hands together and leaning over his bowl. "Enough talk! Time to eat before this cools down!" He bent forward, inhaling dramatically. "Ahhh, smell that? Heaven."

Ayano rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. "You act like you've never eaten before."

Ito grinned, unbothered. "Not ramen like this! This is Ichiraku, the real deal!" He dug in with enthusiasm, slurping loudly enough to earn a disapproving tsk from Ayano.

Satoru chuckled quietly at their antics before lifting his own chopsticks. The broth was rich and perfectly balanced; the noodles firm but tender, the aroma carrying just the right bite of soy and salt. He had eaten here a few times before, but somehow, tonight it felt different—like a closing of one chapter and the uncertain beginning of another.

"So," Ito said through a mouthful of noodles, breaking his thoughts, "what now, Genin Satoru? Any grand plans?"

Satoru's chopsticks paused midair. "Haven't even been assigned a team yet," he said evenly. "Hard to plan anything without knowing who I'll be stuck with."

Ayano nudged him with her elbow. "You make it sound like a punishment."

He gave a small smirk. "That depends on who's assigned with me."

Ayano laughed softly and took another bite before speaking. "You'd make a great sensory ninja, though."

Satoru tilted his head slightly, "Maybe. Depends on what they want me to be."

Ayano leaned her chin on her palm, studying him. "You always talk like it's someone else's choice."

Satoru offered a faint shrug. "It usually is."

The quiet weight of that statement lingered for a moment before he flipped the conversation back. "What about you two? You're starting your last year. What are you planning to specialise in?"

Ayano's brow furrowed thoughtfully as her chopsticks tapped lightly against the rim of her bowl. "I'm still torn between sensory work and medical ninjutsu. Both seem useful, and Nono-sensei said I have good control."

Ito, on the other hand, leaned back proudly. "I already decided! I'm going to focus on tracking." He jabbed a thumb toward himself. "I want to be able to find anyone, anywhere, no matter what."

Satoru's lips twitched. "That actually fits you. Persistent to the point of annoyance."

Ito's grin faltered. "Hey!"

Ayano burst out laughing, covering her mouth as she nearly choked on a noodle. "He's not wrong, Ito."

Ito sighed dramatically, waving his chopsticks like a weapon. "You two think you're so clever, huh? Just wait until I'm the one bailing you out of trouble."

Satoru gave a small smirk. "Let's hope it never comes to that."

They ate in companionable silence for a while; the clatter of chopsticks and soft hum of conversation around them filled the small shop. Outside, the night air carried the distant laughter of villagers and the faint music of a street performer's shamisen.

Eventually, Satoru's eyes flicked up from his bowl, his tone taking on a teasing lilt. "Maybe we should all have a spar sometime. You two could see firsthand how it feels to go up against a sensory ninja."

Both Ito and Ayano froze, exchanged a single glance—and immediately shouted in unison, "NO!"

Their synchronised protest echoed off the walls, startling several customers. One man nearly dropped his bowl, while Yuka stifled a giggle behind her hand.

Teuchi turned with mock severity, waving his ladle. "Oi, keep it down, you three! You'll scare away my other customers!"

"Sorry, Teuchi-san!" the three chorused, though their laughter gave away their lack of remorse.

As the laughter faded, Satoru leaned back on his stool, the corners of his mouth softening into something gentler.

'This… feels normal,' he thought, watching Ito and Ayano argue playfully over who had shouted louder.

The night slipped forward quietly; conversation waned, ramen bowls emptied, and the shop's lanterns flickered lower as the crowd thinned. The trio eventually stood, offering Teuchi and Yuka their thanks before stepping out into the cool night air. The streets of Konoha shimmered faintly under moonlight, lanterns bobbing softly as the breeze rustled through.

As they went their separate ways—laughter fading down opposite streets—Satoru felt a rare sense of calm wash over him. His fingers brushed against the headband tied loosely around his arm. For all his doubts, it felt… grounding.

Elsewhere in the village, light spilt softly from the windows of the Namikaze household. Minato sat across from her, the soft clink of chopsticks punctuating the quiet.

"You're supposed to be the fastest man alive," Kushina teased suddenly, eyes glinting with mischief as she pointed her chopsticks at him. "Yet you eat like an old man!"

Minato chuckled, a gentle, almost boyish sound. "I'm savouring it," he said lightly. "Your cooking deserves appreciation, not speed."

Kushina leaned back, crossing her arms in mock suspicion. "Mmhmm. Smooth words, mister Hokage."

He laughed softly, but his gaze drifted for a moment, unfocused.

The shift in his expression didn't escape her. "Something's on your mind, isn't it?" she asked, tone softening.

Minato set his chopsticks down, exhaling quietly. "Just thinking about tomorrow. We have to assign the new genin teams."

Kushina hummed. "Ah, the next generation of troublemakers."

He smiled faintly. "You make it sound like we were never the same."

"We were worse," she said with a laugh, but her tone carried fondness. She leaned her cheek into her palm, eyes thoughtful. "Speaking of which… I noticed a boy during the graduation today. Dark hair, grey eyes. He kept looking at me."

Minato blinked. "Hmm? Oh— that's Satoru, probably. He's one of the top students this year."

Kushina tilted her head. "Huh? He didn't really look like one. He looked… intense. Not in a bad way, but like someone with too many thoughts for his age."

Minato's lips curved into a knowing smile. "You're probably overthinking it. But I can see why he stood out. He reminds me a bit of myself."

Kushina raised a brow. "Because he's handsome?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Because he lost his parents in the Great War. Kids like that tend to grow up fast."

Her teasing expression softened. "Then maybe he needs someone to look out for him."

Minato leaned back, gaze drifting toward the window where the moonlight pooled across the floor. "Don't worry," he said quietly, "I have been doing that ever since he joined the Academy."

The warmth in his tone carried both pride and a subtle melancholy, as though he already knew how heavy that promise would one day become. Kushina watched him silently, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup, and for a brief moment, the world outside seemed impossibly still.

Chapter 52 - I have been doing that